[OculusVeritatis]

My prior relationship was less of a “Female Led Relationship”, & more that of a supremely powerful Goddess that owned a silent, (unless addressed with a question) timidly obedient, indentured domestic servant, and biological piece of property. The only symbol of, or nod TO it being a relationship (with ME) was that she didn’t stick to any bull for TOO long because she found the rising jealousies of THEIR developing expectations, & often quickly risen feelings, jealousies, & possessiveness too restrictive and, picking herself much younger & more virile, stubborn & potentially immature guys, because she enjoyed THEM as physical objects TOO, only as the “active” to my “passive” status, but didn’t really wish the relationships that many quickly grew to hope for, she, being extremely attractive. Also, as the sadistic, and cruelly flaunted act was denied me, my Goddess knowing I burned with aching, frustrated desire to watch her emasculate me, she, instead, had inverted this principal element, deciding a GREATER inflicted humiliation was to KNOW she had spent the weekend at new, or random conquest’s house, but that the essential ingredient of my cruel humiliation was that I was thereby DENIED the visible “in the flesh” treat, and given not so much, even, as a spitefully told “progress report”, her KNOWING that even such scant crumbs of detail would have given me some little to construct an imaginative, fantasy replay of my own construction. She gave me NOTHING BUT the barest, sometimes even ambiguous indication that I’d BEEN cucked AT ALL, save for her verrrrrrrry occasionally tossing me her cum-drenched &/or streaked & stained panties after the fact, or to smile down at me as I knelt to give her my tender, adoring, oral devotion, & she laughed at my suddenly slowing, & looking up at her questionaingly, and realised, via taste & aroma, that her adulterous exertions were an uinarguable FACT, as a peel of nasty, cutting laughter escaped her, but THAT was as much as I EVER got from her, by way of confirmation, unless, it having been nothing more than, she’d boast of sucking off some young, more muscular & hung guy who’d shed met in a bar, in the back of MY car, or leaving the empty wrapper of an unused condom, (for the fun & games of my mental torture!)square in the middle of the front passenger side’s seat, where it absolutely couldn’t be missed! She delighted in these games, & in inverting ALL the traditionally anticipated tropes & expectations, symbolically, of the stereotypical act: sadism & the engaged cruelties of her enacted psycho-sexual power-plays were the preferred modalities of her game-play, & my entire physical absence delivered all the humiliation, but NONE of the visual/physical pleasures derived therefrom! Why SHOULD I be permitted to get ANYTHING out of the big event? It WAS about my humiliation & denial, after all!

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