CALL OF THE DAY: cuckolding and “cabbage” and why do I care?
The Alfredo-making cuckold came back, after an absence of four months. He goes like that, lots of gaps between spurts (heh) of calls, but I remember his drill even before I pull the card from the card box: utter subservience to his wife and, through her, to her black stud lover, Jamal.
I have his card right in front of me, but when thereâ€™s that much time between calls, of course I have to pretend that I donâ€™t remember much, and anyway, pretendingÂ to verify my hazy recollectionsÂ gives me a good narrative reason to ask some very pointed questions, and have him repeat the answers back to me. Itâ€™s a great way of laying down the strong humiliation framework that he enjoys. Sometimes with him, I can just ask embarrassing questions for the entire 15 minutes, and thatâ€™s enough.
– You make dinner for Jamal and Leanne a lot, donâ€™t you?
â€œYes, maâ€™am, once or twice a week.â€
Another great thing about this guy is that I donâ€™t have to make him come, if I donâ€™t feel like it. He supposedly goes for weeks and weeks without coming, and he has to get the go-ahead from his wife. He is supposed to write down in a log book every time he calls a phone sex service, and every time he masturbates, and every time he comes. Female dominance over his arousal is pretty comprehensive, at least it is the way he presents it to me, and my refusing to let him comeÂ fits well into the structure.
– What was the last time your wife let you eat her out?
â€œItâ€™s been a couple of months, maâ€™am.â€
– And that was after Jamal had come inside of her?
So I sometimes do denyÂ him release, if I feel like nailing that spike home, or, to be honest, if itâ€™s been a slow day or week for me and I feel like racking up his tab. He is not, strictly speaking, a financial sub, but he always agrees to follow-up calls without demur, and he talks frequently about how much money heâ€™s spending on Leanne and on Jamal. During this most recent call series of ours, he lingered lovingly on the fact that he is paying Jamalâ€™s bills too, on top of the household bills for himself and Leanne, and that he will always cover costs when Jamal and Leanne want to take a long weekend away.
– Youâ€™re telling me that you are paying for two households?
– You make enough money for this?
â€œOh yes, maâ€™am, itâ€™s not a problem.â€
I donâ€™t trust callersâ€™ statements about their income, any more than I trust any other thing they may say about themselves. But I wrapped up that second 15-minute session telling him to call me again, figuring that, hey, they need to say what they want and they are going to know better than I do what their wallets can handle, it is not my fucking problem. It had been a slow day, and this guy is an easy caller. No squealing or begging on my end, just some sharp, staccato questions about his life, the one he purports to have. Iâ€™m very good at it, heâ€™s getting what he wants, itâ€™s all good.
But when the dispatcher calls me for the third call, she says, â€œCan you try to wrap him up on this one?â€ Iâ€™m surprised, because every follow-up call I get is good for the companyâ€™s coffers too, normally sheâ€™s all about getting them to call back. Sure, I say, butâ€¦ â€œI think heâ€™s running low on funds,” she says. “His first credit card declined.â€
So even though Iâ€™m pretty sure I could make him go for at least another one or two 15-minute calls, I tell him magnanimously in the middle of this third session that I have decided to let him come. His gratitude is palpable, and I suddenly feel a little bad for all the other times that Iâ€™ve strung him along. With his consent, of course. He could have come at any time. He could decide to ask outright for it. He could play a different game. Is it my job to tell him when to stop?
No. It’s not in my job description. I think the dispatcher is thinking more about client sustainabilityâ€”you know, like, don’t pull up the plant by the roots when you can just harvest the leavesâ€”but both she and IÂ are people, and we don’t want to be a part of driving someone into the ground.
This is the part of the post where I encourage you to become a patron of my work over on Patreon, and explain how I rely on my supporters, and normally I’d be a little snappier about it, but I’m sick as a dog right now, so this is what you get.