A Cuckold Story: How to Disappear in the Scene

The Cinematic Reference

There are many cuckolding scenes in cinema, but without a doubt my favourite is the interplay of mirrors and glances in the car wash scene in Crash, one of those fetishistic cult B-movies created by the perverse mind of Cronenberg, which holds some iconic erotic sequences and combines speed and erotic tension with a polished 90s aesthetic.

Prelude

I send D a short questionnaire to understand what the highlights will be, his perspective, and what excites him the most. My sine qua non condition is not seeing my clients: I want their presence, at the moment the scene unfolds, to be purely residual. He tells me he wants to be humiliated and to feel frustrated: match.

At Lux, we have closets, cells, and different types of furniture that, with a bit of imagination, allow us to camouflage our submissives.

The first time D came to a session with me, he wanted to see if there was chemistry. Halfway through the session, he confessed that his fantasy was cuckolding. I told him I offer it as a seasonal special, and that I would keep him informed when my partner in crime was visiting the city.

At last, the day arrives. I inform him that my chosen partner is 1.92 meters tall and embodies all the elements that fully satisfy me.

I do not reveal anything more and I give him an appointment at the studio at 20:00. To my scene partner, whom I have not seen in six months, I send the link to the Crash sequence and a small script, I tell him simply to follow me, to engage, to enjoy it and that I will dress like the protagonist.

I like to maintain the excitement and a high level of adrenaline, so I do not reveal anything else to either of them.

Entering the scene: the cuckoo is on the nest

D arrives on time with a bouquet of flowers. I order him to kneel to kiss the tip of my shoes and present his tribute. I ask him if he remembers the ritual. I guide him step by step on how to offer himself to me, while asking permission to use reiki and placing my hands on his body so he can fee me presence, I can lower his tension and connect with his inner energy.

Almost without noticing, he is already seated and handcuffed to a chair. I blindfold him with a silk scarf and approach him suggestively. I want him to feel my perfume, my body. I brush his face with my satin skirt, place a knee between his legs, and pass the lace of my bra across his mouth.

“Do you like feeling me like this, erotic and sensual? Do you like my scent? This is as close as you will ever get.”

I walk around the chair so that my heels mark a rhythm that alternates with silence, repeating and whispering like a mantra, in each of his ears, the words: soft, rough:

“You have no hands, D… you cannot touch me… you cannot see me… you are blindfolded and restrained… at my mercy.”

CONTROL AND ILLUSION

Then I ask:

“How do you think I like to be taken, D? Soft or rough?”

He hesitates.

“Rough.”

“Fail,” I laugh. “Both. I only wanted to confuse you. But you see, I would never choose someone like you. You hesitated too much. I like men who are confident in their charisma and power.”

I sit in front of him and slowly run the sole of my Louboutins over his trousers.

“I also like big… energy. Do you know why? Because I deserve the best. And you, as I have seen, don’t have much to offer. But C, who is about to arrive, does. You will see in another man the ambition you lack, the allure that ignite a woman like me.”

“Remember, we are here for my pleasure. My pleasure is what matters. It will be satisfied tonight.”

Now listen very carefully: my lover does not know that you are here, so I will have to camouflage you and dehumanise you even further. Have you seen The Others by Amenabar?

You are 'the others'.

I will grant you the gift of vision and invisibility at the same time. You will become a chair - and chairs do not speak.

If you perform your role well, I will allow you to take possession of your own pleasure as well.

“Tell me, D, which hand do you write with?”

“With my right hand, Mistress.”

“Then if you behave well, I will free the left one. If you perform exceptionally, the right one.”

Having said that, I remove his blindfold and cover him with a white sheet in which I have previously cut a rectangular opening, granting him the gift of invisibility and vision at the same time.

I take a photo of D, disguised as a ghostly chair, as a souvenir.

THE ARRIVAL OF DESIRE

A few moments later, the bell rings. As C walks up the stairs, I light the candles and press play on my sensual massage playlist- a mix that blends Massive Attack with Al Green.

To my surprise, C is wearing a suit, and our outfits match perfectly. In the candlelight, he reveals that he has brought an appetizer.

I invite him in, show him the room where I have already hung the leather swing from the ceiling, and ask him if he likes it.

“I love being here, and I love being with you.” Good answer.

I ask him to take off his jacket and casually hang it over the chair, covering its field of vision. Then I ask him to tell me about his trip.

I sit down on the chair and slightly adjust the jacket so that the chair can see.

C stands in front of me. I stretch out my legs and offer him my feet. Carefully, he removes my shoes, and with his hands he begins to move along my legs.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

Between wine and touch, he moves along my stockings, slowly going higher, lifting my pencil skirt up to my garters.

And it is then when I begin to notice that the chair 'reacts' -that I suggest we move the scene to the table, which is large and sturdy.

THE SCENE

“What did you bring as an appetizer?”

“Cheese… but I forgot the baguette.”

“Are you sure you forgot it?” I smile.

And that is how the scene begins - on a table decorated with the flowers D brought - where I eat cheese while my accomplice, true to my name, devours me.

Ladies, first.

And the baguette is not missing. The baguette is important -and it is as generous as the last time.

“Do you know why I like tall men?”

“Tell me.”

“To climb their bodies.”

And with that, without touching the floor, my lover lifts me and carries me to the leather swing, where he kisses my wrists the way he knows I like, and moves along my neck while my nails leave subtle marks on his back, the kind he will discover the next day while brushing his teeth, he sends me a photo.

Soon I forget about everything, except pleasure, surrendering completely to the moment.

“Kiss me as if you were licking me; lick me as if you were kissing me. Everything is for you.”

The condoms are on the jacket, the jacket hangs on the chair.

And it is at that moment - when the chair re-enters the scene - that I exchange a complice glance with my lover. He says he is going to the bathroom for a moment.

I approach the chair to check if it lives, feels, exists.

“Quick, we don’t have much time. I will free one of your hands. Stay silent. Don’t move too much. If C notices you, he might not react well.”

We had left things at a high point.

“What were we doing?” C asks as he opens the door.

I laugh when I see him, naked, fully present, exactly as I expected.

“Come here,” I say.

“Take me soft first, then stronger. I want to feel all your power and your presence .”

Intensity rises again, the atmosphere wrapping around us just as much as the sheet still covers my client, who continues his role beneath it.

Might... Would you like to know how is the end of the session, if the chair was discovered or how C and I reach the climax?

I leave it to power of your imagination.

The contrast between visibility and invisibility, control and surrender creates a layered emotional landscape.

And somewhere within that carefully constructed moment, the essence of the experience reveals itself:

Not everything that is felt needs to be touched.

Not everything that is seen can be reached.

Because ultimately, what makes an experience powerful is not just what happens, but how it is perceived.