‘Pussyfree and proud.’ - audience participation confessionals showpieces

“Pussyfree and proud,” Nikki repeated teasingly and more loudly, rubbing her palms together with delight. “That’s my good little obedient beta bitch.”

“Whmpr,” foofoo replied again, unable to prevent a shudder of shameful acceptance run across his shoulders on hearing such words spoken to him, about him. ‘Pussyfree and proud.’ was a turn of phrase Nikki had recently started to enjoy voicing about him to her friends because they all seemed to giggle at it so much. Worse though, amusing herself further, she had proceeded to instigate having him voice what she called his ‘confessional’ to her visiting girlfriends; ‘confessing’ to them face to face that he was ‘Pussyfree and proud.’ As ever, because it was Nikki, this shamefaced experience did not end there, oh no, Nikki had him go further, and thus his confessionals continued with blushing intensity as she had him explain to whoever was visiting, exactly what made him feel proud to be pussyfree; just to make them giggle and burst into peals of laughter at his profusely blushing, squirming stuttering explanations.

Nikki had explained to him and by extension her friends, that foofoo’s being ‘Pussyfree and proud.’ was the natural evolution to the past few years of having him try and convince her girlfriends to their immense amusement, ‘Why he thought he was only going to be pussyfree for a little while longer…’ because these days they were no longer convinced by the strength of conviction in his answers, in face of the reality, they all knew about. For, of course, Nikki had ensured he remained steadfastly pussyfree and locked in chastity all of the time during his service, both conditions being just his constant state of normality now.

Having to articulate either the old or new explanation, more often than not delivered with his hands on his head, raised, up high, on his toes, without a stitch to wear, to an audience of Nikki and friend or friends were mortifying affairs even for a devoted male submissive like foofoo. However, much he had longed for such humiliating experiences, they still made him burn with embarrassment and awkwardness every single time he was set to mumbling and stumbling his words out; as Nikki and whoever he was having to explain himself to, would be giggling away unrestrained, right in his face. It was commonplace that Nikki would have him repeat his answer, come, explanation, several times, until he did it clearly without any mumbled or muttered words, by which time his audience would typically be in stitches, cracking up, howling with laughter at whatever he had come up with as an explanation this time around.

Between their giggling fits, his explanations would sometimes get challenged and probed by his audience but thankfully, more often than not, the vixens would only demand further humiliating confessions, that they liked to hear him say to them, just for the extra laughs at just how much of a pathetically pitiful loser they could make him be. Thus, during his ‘Pussyfree and proud.’ audience participation confessionals showpieces, he could be found blushing intensely throughout, while coming up with belittlingly honest declarations he knew would make them hoot with laughter, and communicating them in the third person to entertain Nikki and her friends, such as:

“Foofoo is pussyfree and proud because…
…Foofoo has no idea what pussy feels like.”

…Foofoo only knows what the inside of a chastity cage feels like.”

…The only thing foofoo has left is his virginity, please don’t take that from foofoo too Mistress.”

…Let foofoo show you his biggest sex organ.” and then sticking his tongue out, waggling it about and licking his lips suggestively.

…Mistress says foofoo will be sucking a lot more cock before his next orgasm.”

…Foofoo is going through a bit of a dry patch and fears he may have forgotten what an orgasm feels like.”

…Real men have no idea what cum tastes like, but foofoo does.”

…Foofoo has in all seriousness, the hots for Mistress Verity, she is just so beautiful, so dreamy, but please, please don’t tell her!”

…Mistress told foofoo as he hadn’t ever got any, he would be pussyfree for life.”

…Foofoo’s chances of ever having sex stand at 0%.”

…Beta-males like foofoo should always be pussyfree virgins.”

…With such a small penis, foofoo got lucky finding Nikki to serve, there’s no need for foofoo to ever get lucky again.”

…Sex is for winners, not small-cocked losers like foofoo.”

…Foofoo is still a committed virgin and pledges to being a pussyfree beta for the rest of his days.”

On and on and on, the self-belittling would go, each confessional harder than the last as he racked his brains to come up with fresh creative statements to give them laughs at his expense, or sometimes not if he wasn’t on his game; which could quite easily result in the session’s ending involving his being sent to fetch the rattan. Throughout, he would remain, standing there, lifted up, on brightly coloured toes, watching, hearing at least two, often more, women laugh their pretty heads off at what he had told them. A blissful sound to foofoo and thus, more often than not, from the shame of it all, a confessional session would see him helplessly leaking precum from his cage, unable to do anything but remain in his place, feeling ludicrous and soaking up the humiliation until The Mistress and her friend(s) had recovered themselves from their fits of shared giggles. When noticed, the discovery and sight of the long drool of clear liquid oozing from the small hole at the end of his chastity cage was guaranteed to stimulate yet a further bombardment of scorn; amusement and curiosity ratcheted up even further. In turn, it often led to the inevitable probing questions, with regards to being kept aching and frustrated in his cage, how many days it had been since his last permitted orgasm; and/or taunts from those that were more comfortable with sharing such things, informing him about how many times some in his audience had recently enjoyed the ecstasy he was denied.

It was at times like this, throbbing and leaking in his cage, the only male in the room, before an otherwise exclusive collective of feisty, fun-loving women, that he would wonder if it was as close to a threesome he would ever get. Despite actually getting to overhear many of Nikki’s orgasms at various points through his working day, and there were a lot when it came to Nikki, he rarely witnessed or participated in any of them. To his envious mind, Nikki seemed insatiable; living vicariously through her ecstasies, he knew that like clockwork, most days she seemed to easily average five to six orgasms a day, and they were just the ones he was aware of! Only really during his greatly anticipated monthly ‘thank-you to Nikki’ devotional foot worship session, when he was busy, devotedly running his lips, soft and floppy, over the bottoms of her pretty soft barefeet; providing the no tongue, humble and passionate kisses of a submissive beta-male, did he ever directly participate in Nikki’s orgasmic pleasures. Not that he got to observe much of the action on the odd occasion she get busy, up above him, played with herself; for steadfastly his head was down at Nikki’s feet, doing his best to avoid the occasional kick in the face, while giving it his all with his devoted beta-kissing, sniffing too, as deeply as he could, wonderfully wallowing in sub-space. It was during these sessions, that he had come as close to some intimacy with Nikki as he had ever got; for once finished, when she was fully sexually sated and back in the room, Nikki would finally order him to desist with his display of gratitude and then more often than not, have him suck and lick clean her sticky slick fingers or wipe them in and around his snout, marking him and taunting him with what she didn’t allow him; before having him lick up the Alpha-Female worship puddle he had generated. Already an overly excited boy from his action down at her pretty feet, how Nikki ended most sessions would overwhelm him, intoxicating him, first with her heavenly foot odours and then via the wonders of her unique musky, sweet like molasses scent and taste.

To date foofoo had never managed or been permitted to cum during such a hot foot worshiping session, but he certainly throbbed powerfully like never before against his chastity and always leaked more copious amounts of precum from his cage throughout than at any other time. In his book, based on his experience, he viewed their shared moments, as counting as having ‘got off’ with someone on the regular, enjoying to his mind ‘repeat dates’ with a woman, due to their monthly schedule. Not that foofoo had ever dared expressed his view to anyone, especially Nikki! His justifications for counting the sessions as both dates and getting off, to himself were that each ‘date’ involved nudity (him and Nikki’s bared feet) intimate contact (his lips on Nikki’s feet) and sexual relations occurred (his copious precum secretions and on occasion, Nikki’s orgasm) and a merging of sexual fluids (Nikki’s slick fingers across his lips, in his nostrils, on his tongue, in his mouth) between the two them. At the very least, he would argue his case to till the cows come home, this added up to getting to second and third base.

In addition to this oral sex, he was highly conscious and beta-submissive proud, that it was his plight of interminable ridicule and denial, his suffering as to his distinct lack of orgasms as determined by Nikki; that often served as the catalyst to the personal moments his Mistress enjoyed so frequently, when Brad wasn’t around to cater for her needs! He knew this because Nikki did not hold back from informing him of such matters. Either way, foofoo being what and who he accepted he was, lapped it up metaphorically, if not for real; chuffed with his beta-self, with his contributing role, however small or indirect, to a beautiful woman’s orgasm.

So, helpless and denied, he would just remain standing there unable to prevent himself secreting yet more precum in front of his Mistress and her girlfriends, thoughts of his and Nikki’s sex lives, as disparate as they might be, running amok in his head. Such ‘confessionals’ were just one of the many ‘beautiful bashful beta moments’, as Nikki called them, that he got to love/hate, because of something she demanded of him, which were central to his submission to her and his submissive feelings towards her. They were what made him tick, what made him come alive and what made him remain devotionally in awe of his astonishing and wonderful Mistress. Moreover, for foofoo, such shared ‘beautiful bashful beta moments’ were always accompanied with his cock trying to get hard in his chastity cage, leaking and blushing; and involved either working, serving, or being ridiculed, in a clothed Alpha-Female, nude beta-male environment; and as such formed the basis for many of his greatest erotic ever moments. Each such experience left him hoping his existence would continue to be full of such beautiful, memorable, moments like them, for a long time to come (excuse the pun dear reader!).

In reply to his affirmative whimper, Nikki continued, “And I am proud of foofoo being my pussyfree and proud, obedient little beta; it places him at the vanguard of breaking the chains of preconceived societal ideas and arbitrarily assigned characteristics and roles determined and limited by their gender. A new generation of women are taking charge of things, of their lives, knowing what they want out of life and going out to get it, no longer putting up with bad sex, not accepting patriarchal traditions or a no for an answer; in colleges, in the media, in the workplace and importantly, with regards to all that foofoo needs to have concern his pretty little head about, in the home. My home to be more precise, the pet’s place of work. Knowing his place, accepting his pussyfree status, being proud to be pussyfree, and in his acceptance of this; choosing to dedicate himself to chaste service, without reeling off a list of things I can do for him. That wouldn’t be serving and isn’t my Modern-Day-Cinders. That’s what makes me proud of my house-pet.”

“Whmpr,” he affirmed back, glad to be in a discussion now about things he could resolutely agree with his Mistress on without being made to squirm much. Safe ground, no catches in her questions, just mutual agreement, and lots of common ground.

“Real women don’t do housework, do they foofoo?”

“Whmpr, whmpr,” foofoo agreed, his service orientated nature being safe ground.

“No, indeed, that’s what the likes of beta-males like foofoo are for, the domestic menial help, skivvies,” Nikki advised. “Back in the day predominantly exploited female domestic servants toiled; patriarchal societies restricting their choices, aspirations, and opportunities. But, these days, more and more, beta-males are finally finding their true calling, in our more liberating and balanced modern world. One where beta-males like foofoo, rather than having their choices, aspirations, and opportunities in life restricted, hidden away; have instead been liberated from the oppression of gender stereotypes and what it means to be a man, able to come out and be their true selves, answering their calling from the mundane to the marvelous. How wonderful it must be for those who know what’s right for them, accept what will make them content and happy, the uniquely marvelous things, like the authorized essentials I have so generously permitted as ‘beta-approved’; those like foofoo able to openly devote themselves to the more mundane, to merrily serve their betters as menial skivvy’s, or in the pet’s case, as my chaste, hard-worked, working-livestock. Am I not right foofoo?”

“Whmpr,” he replied in an instant.

“My very own Modern-Day-Cinders, who’d have ever thought; kept barefoot amongst the ashes, his acorn sized little cocklet tucked neatly and compactly out of sight, but never out of mind; so not to be a distraction from all the time he spends in his natural habitats of the kitchen and the yard, scrubbing and sweeping. Barefoot, chaste and in the kitchen, that’s my very own pet, toiling away as happy as Larry.” Nikki chuckled somewhat ironically, knowing full well his sexual frustration gnawed away at him constantly, never far from his waking moments, as he toiled in her home. “Pussyfree and proud, his happy ever after…”

***

Extract from the Modern-Day-Cinders femdom & chastity eBook series, where a beta male's next orgasm is measured in duration's of weeks and months, not days or hours like most guys... let's just say Cinderella had it far easier
Enjoy via free Kindle App 4 iOS & Android devices @ http://amazon.com/author/mhmacdonald

 

chuckles, thank you