Making and breaking of a cuckold – 22 The dinner party

“Now it’s my turn cuckold”. Needless to say, Princess Sheridan wasn’t nearly as benign. She stepped onto my chest in her high-heeled shoes and wiped the soles on my shirt initially, then ground the sharp heels into my chest, targeting my nipples. She then ordered me to tongue clean the soles. She stepped off me and spoke,

“I’m only gonna need your tongue for cleaning my soles from now on faggot, I’ve got a real man looking after my clitty. Too bad, so sad, looks like you’ll be stuck in that chastity tube I locked you in forever loser haha”.

Those words deflated me but I didn’t have long to think about it because Empress Christine and Mr Jones arrived soon after. Mr Jones spoke,

“What’s this? I think pisstrough is multi-tasking being a doormat for his superiors”. Oh dear, another convert to the dominant lifestyle. “I hope you’re not staying out here all night pisstrough, I’ll be needing your services after I have a few drinks”.

I was mortified at being trash-talked like that by another male, especially as he was quite shy in his dealings with me earlier on in the day. It didn’t take them long sometimes. Empress Christine was right though, I couldn’t look him in the eye or try to pretend to be his equal after what he’d done to me. Something dies inside you when another human being has used your mouth to piss in, and told you they would use you as their ‘portable urinal’.