Self-bondage RSS stream

Summary: In Chapter Five, Rachel recovers from her previous self-bondage stream while her husband tends to her, hoping they’ll pause the escalating content. Instead, the stranger sends a new directive: Rachel must choose a man to dominate and use her live on camera while her husband watches remotely. They discuss the psychological intent behind it—the evolution into a cuckold dynamic. Despite her husband’s desperate protests, Rachel ultimately selects Marcus, a monstrously endowed, intimidating figure, knowing he is the one who will break her completely

She was still sore.

Rachel lay on her side, robe loosely drawn over her body, the pink lines from the ice-lock still faint on her wrists and thighs. Her hair clung to her damp neck, skin warm and flushed. They hadn’t spoken much since the stream ended. She had been bound. Vibrating. Leaking. Denied.

Her husband sat beside her, tenderly wiping the remnants of drool from her lips, the residue of hours gagged and exposed. She flinched slightly when he brushed the cloth over the corner of her mouth. He paused.

“Still tender?”

She nodded. “But good.”

He kissed her temple. For a moment, they lay in silence. There was comfort in the quiet, a false sense of peace. Her husband let himself believe it was over—that the last stream had been the climax, not the prelude.

“We can slow down now,” he said gently. “Take a break. Maybe just go back to the photos for a while.”

Rachel nodded, though not convincingly. “Maybe.”

Then her phone buzzed.

He noticed the change in her body immediately. She stilled.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he asked.

She said nothing. Just opened the message.

Her eyes moved across the screen. Then she began to read aloud:

You pleased them. They saw you writhe. They watched you drip. You endured.

Now it’s time for the next transformation.

You will not be alone next time. You will meet a man in person.
He will dominate you. Fuck you. Use your holes live on camera.
You will be restrained. You will cum only when told.

Your husband will not be in the room. He will not touch you. He will log in like every other fan and watch.

Below are profiles of approved candidates. Choose wisely. Choose soon.

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not. That’s not happening.”

Rachel looked at him, calm but sympathetic.

“He’s not just escalating,” she said. “He’s crafting something. A transformation. For both of us.”

Her husband blinked, confused and overwhelmed. “Transformation? Rachel, this is—this is someone else fucking my wife while I’m forced to watch.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “But not just that. He’s not asking for a threesome. Or swinging. This isn’t even really about sex anymore.”

She paused, then sat up and faced him fully. “It’s about ownership. Submission. Power imbalance. He’s testing us. He’s constructing a cuckold dynamic deliberately—piece by piece.”

Her voice carried a calm, almost scholarly tone, though her body was flushed from anticipation. “Do you remember what we read? The new wave of consensual non-monogamy? The way cuckolding challenges traditional marriage by using love as a foundation for total sexual divergence?”

He shook his head slowly. “I didn’t think you meant that.”

“I think this man does. And he’s making you feel it already. That ache. That helpless, agonising mix of arousal and jealousy—that’s the emotional edge he wants us both balanced on.”

“But what about fidelity? About us?”

“It is about us,” Rachel said. “That’s the paradox. I want your love. Your loyalty. I want you to still be mine—while I’m being taken.”

He swallowed hard. “And what do you get from it?”

Her smile was soft, but devastating. “The liberation. The permission to be completely used. The thrill of knowing I’m watched, judged, and craved by men who know I belong to another. And most of all—knowing that your pain… makes me wetter.”

He groaned aloud, torn between horror and desire.

“When you’re denied me, when you see me tied down and fucked open by another man—you become a witness. And I become truly free.”

She leaned in, whispered:

“It’s the evolution of monogamy. And we’re being pushed into it, one step at a time.”

They sat in silence, trembling. Then finally, with a cracked voice:

“Show me the candidates.”

Rachel opened the file.

Photos. Bios. Cocks.

They scrolled in silence.

Candidate One: Adam.
Fit. Smiling. Tall. Confident but casual.

“I’d tie her up slow. Let her feel it. Make her beg. Fuck her until she forgets who she’s trying to please.”

Rachel smiled faintly. “He looks… playful.”

Her husband nodded stiffly.

Candidate Two: Leo.
Older. Stern. Calm. Sadist.

“She’ll wear a gag the whole time. She won’t speak. Her orgasm will be mine to control. Her body, furniture.”

Rachel shifted slightly on the bed. “He’d use me… methodically.”

Then she scrolled again.

Candidate Three: Marcus.
Black. 6’6”. Muscles carved like stone. Cock: monstrous. Thick. Heavy. Fully hard in the photo, curved, veined—inhuman.

“She arrives stripped. I don’t talk. I fuck. She moans, she cries, she breaks. I fill her throat until she swallows. I hold her hips while she begs. I don’t stop.”

Her husband recoiled, gut tightening at the sight of him.

Rachel paused.

Then—to his immense relief—she scrolled past.

He let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“He’s a lot,” she admitted.

They viewed one more candidate. Nothing notable. Manageable.

But Rachel didn’t move on.

She scrolled back.

Marcus’s cock filled the screen again.

“Rachel… please.”

He sat up, voice trembling. “He’ll tear you apart. You won’t come back from that the same.”

Rachel looked at him gently.

“He’s the one who will break me,” she whispered. “And that’s what this is now.”

“He’s doing this to humiliate me,” her husband said, voice cracking. “He’s making me… your cuckold.”

Rachel’s voice softened. “Yes. And I think he already has.”

“But he’s enormous,” her husband continued, almost pleading now. “I’ve never seen anything like that. You’ll gag on him. He’ll cum in you. I won’t be able to stop it. I won’t be able to do anything.”

“No,” Rachel said softly. “You won’t. And I think that’s the point.”

“You’ll be fucked like an object,” he said. “And I’ll just sit there. Hard. Crying.”

She nodded. “And you’ll still love me. That’s what makes it real.”

She took his hand, kissed his palm.

“Because you need to see what happens when I don’t belong to you anymore.”

Her fingers returned to the screen. Back to Marcus.

“I think… it has to be him.”

the hardest part about self bondage is figuring out what outfit and colored rope to go with.