The walk of shame of the sissy

And with out so much as a touch, that thought alone causes months worth of sissy juice to flood your frilly silk panties while you groan in pain, your whole body spasming with spurt after spurt. There’s no pleasure, but there’s just the smallest relief of pressure. After the gushing finally stops your breathing slows, and with trembling hands, your training takes over. Finally untangled you straighten to your knees, and with one hand holding up your hem, pinkies out of course, the other reaches down, scooping the gooey cream from your panties to bring hesitantly but deliberately to your lips.

You do NOT ”eat cum”. You savor it, slowly teasing it with your tongue from each finger. In between nibbles and sucks, forcing a tear soaked smile, you repeat the ”cleaning” mantra you learned back when you were allowed the occasional orgasm- ”I am a silly semen sipping sissy. My seed is worthless and must be kept away from real women. The only place my cum deserves to go is into my own mouth.” You have to repeat it quite a few times before you’ve swallowed every nasty tiny, dainty sip. Even after all this time, the taste of yourself that you’re f***ed to consume still disgusts you, and you struggle not to gag while appearing to truly love it, because you never know when I might be watching. Any bit of masculine pride you may have had left dissolves with your spunk.
With it mostly all back inside you where it belongs, the last bit of slime gets patted on to your puffy lips to savor, so you’re reminded of what you are every time you purse your lips in nervous submission- a hopeless little sissy cum guzzler.