Making and breaking of a cuckold - 22 The dinner party
Written by subfootstool, on 2016-02-24, genre domination
I did then Gemma sauntered across and stood in front of me. She slowly raised her right leg and placed her foot on my chest. Smiling, she gave me a hefty push, resulting in me being thrown backwards into the pool. "Stay there till you don't smell so bad loser".
I waited till Mistress gestured to me to kneel at her feet. "Good news fuckwit. We've decided to have a dinner party tonight and you're gonna cater. Max is sending a list of drinks to your phone for you to buy, and you will follow me into the kitchen while Sheridan and I decide on the menu. Oh, by the way, you'll be the chief cook and bottle washer". That was OK, I was a reasonable cook.
I spent the rest of the afternoon on my own shopping and preparing. Max and Gemma went upstairs, probably to fuck, and the others went home to rest for tonight. No such luxuries for me !!
Around 5pm, Gemma sauntered into the kitchen looking dishevelled and sleepy. "You missed out on clean-up duties cucky but your Master and I figured you'd be better off setting up for tonight. They'll be arriving around 6 and I want you dressed in your suit pants, a white shirt and a bow tie so you look like a butler, even though you're gonna be the cook and dish pig as well hehe".
I knelt and gently placed a kiss on the top of Mistress' right foot and said, "Yes Your Highness, what you say when you say". It was moments like these when I realized how I got myself in this position, Gemma was utterly gorgeous, irresistible and there was something about her attitude that pressed every button I had.
I dressed and it was around 5.45 when Sir Max entered the kitchen. He had brushed up well and was looking every bit the dominant stud he was. I knelt before him and kept my gaze averted from his. My balls reminded me to be respectful to this Bull.
"It's raining cuckold".
"I don't want my guests to worry about muddy shoes so you'll lie outside the front door and be our doormat. Invite them to wipe their shoes on your shirt and, if there's still any mud on the soles of their shoes, lick it off like a good footslave would you?"
"Yes Sir. Thank you for the opportunity to serve Sir". Laying it on thick was the best protective mechanism I had at my disposal.
"Well, what are you waiting for, get your faggot arse out there".
It was a strange feeling crawling out the front door and lying on the porch with the rain sprinkling down and night falling. God only knows what the neighbours would think if they saw me but I was kind of past worrying about that in the context of my life, or what was left of it after Max and Gemma had trashed it.
A car pulled up after 10 minutes. Sheridan emerged with a young male in tow. Jeepers, no-one bothered telling me there was an extra guest.
"Good evening Your Majesty".
The male spoke, "So it's true what you told me Sheridan, Max and Gemma have a slave. What's he doing?"
"Answer the man faggot".
"I am your doormat for the night Sir. Please wipe your shoes on my shirt and if there's any mud left on the soles, I have instructions to lick that off".
"You told me just to go with the flow Sheridan so here I go, I'll wipe my shoes on his shirt".
"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'.
Empress Christine stepped on my chest and wiped her ankle boots across my chest. "Stay still cucky; if I fall off and sprain my ankle cause you wriggled I'll crucify your balls with the pointy toe of these boots". She then presented the soles of her boots for me to clean with my tongue which I did without hesitation.
""Your turn Mark". Mr Jones stepped on my chest and wiped his shoes, then wandered down my legs, over my groin then up onto my face, grinding the soles of his shoes as he moved. He was a lot bigger than the girls and it hurt a lot so I had to bite my lip to suck up the pain. He also made me lick his soles. He had come a long way quickly.
They went inside and I waited for further instructions as I assumed no-one else was coming. Mistress Gemma appeared, "Good job faggot; by the look of your shirt and face, there's not much mud left on our guest's shoes. OK, crawl inside. Drink bitch duties first, then off to the kitchen to prepare the first course".
I crawled through the front door and Mistress kicked me between the legs to hurry me along. The toe of her shoe trapped my left testicle against my chastity tube and a white hot pain surged through my body. I slumped forward onto my face and let out a guttural sound. She walked around in front of me and lifted my chin up with the toe of her shoe.
"You just broke two of Sir Max's Rules at once fuckwit. You're not allowed to fall or groan when your superiors kick you in the balls. I'm going to tell your Master you disobeyed him. He might like to show our guests what happens to disobedient cuckolds after dinner. Dwell on that loser".
I was still prostrate at her feet when Mistress Gemma said, "Crawl into the lounge when you've recovered germ".
A few minutes later I was kneeling beside Sir Max awaiting instructions. He spoke, "Firstly, I want the first course on the table in 20 minutes. Is that all under control cuckold?"
"Secondly, I have good news and bad news for you".
"The good news is you'll be released from your chastity tube later this evening".
"Thank you Sir".
"The bad news is that it will be for me to give your balls a flogging with my kicking foot".
"Do you know why faggot?"
"Turn to my guests and explain why I'm going to cripple your balls. Be very clear why you're going to be my kicking bag or I'll make it even worse for you". I really didn't want to be hearing these words and this time I knew there would be no escape or my Master would lose face in front of his friends. I turned to the group and spoke,
"Sir Max has given me Rules to live my life by and I have to memorize them and obey without question. I broke two Rules a little earlier. When Sir Max or Mistress Gemma kick me in the balls I'm not permitted to call out or fall. Sir Max has told me that he owns my balls and they exist purely for target practice for his kicking foot. When I'm being disciplined, I must remain still and wait until my superiors are finished with me when they will either summon me to work for them or dismiss me. I squealed and fell when Mistress Gemma kicked my balls just before and that's why Sir Max is going to punish me".
"Good boy peepee, that was clear. I'm sure you want our guests to have a good night, and seeing me turn you into my foot puppet as you dance around on the end of my kicking foot should be excellent entertainment for them. We'll invite them to join in, of course. Dismissed".
"Thank you Sir". I scurried out to the kitchen and had the first course on the table as instructed, then went to the lounge to inform them all. They all sat and I knelt near Sir Max awaiting my orders. He spoke,
"Let's see cuckold, normally my whore or I use your face as our footrest while we eat but that's being rude to our guests. It's been rainy tonight so there's still going to be splatter and shit on their shoes. We might put your slave tongue to good use while we eat, eh? Be very respectful and don't disturb our guests, but crawl under the table and lick the tops of all of their shoes. Spend about 5 minutes on each pair and we should be finished this course by then. Chop chop".
I guess it was unrealistic to expect my subjugation to plateau, let alone cease, but every day seemed to bring new depths of humiliation courtesy of Sir Max, Mistress Gemma, and their family and friends. I was about to crawl under a table and lick 6 pairs of shoes, 3 male, including one I'd never met before and hadn't even been introduced to yet. My response?
So I started at the opposite end of the table to Max with Empress Christine's ankle boots. They were aromatic from prolonged wear and still moist from the rain. I dug my tongue into all the little crevices, especially between the sole and the upper and, judging by the grit between my teeth, was rewarded with a good yield of dirt and shit. I must admit it turned me on. She was so sexy and the boots were too. My head was full of the smell of her foot sweat in the leather and my submission to her, and my cock strained against my chastity tube. I lost track of time until a little dig in my ribs from somebody's shoe and an admonition to move on.
The next shoes belonged to her date whose name was Zack I had determined, even though we hadn't been introduced. He wore brogues which was unusual for a man his age which, in itself was an issue for me. He was probably 20 years younger than me and we hadn't spoken yet he had wiped his muddy shoes on my immaculate white shirt and now I was under a table licking his shoes. And, of course, brogues have so many nooks and crannies, my tongue was very busy.
I was ignored as I plied my trade as a cuckold footslave and I could tell they were all having a good time by the volume of the talk and the hilarity. I worked my way past Princess Sheridan's shiny pumps and the others then finally onto Sir Max's boots. They were, of course, huge, size 13 in fact, and my tongue was very busy putting a shine on them. I really didn't want any more trouble tonight.
Max lifted my face up with his boot and told me to open my mouth. He dropped in a piece of gristle he had chewed then spoke, "That piece of meat had a sinew in it faggot. That's not good enough. Now you can suck on it as punishment. I want you to keep it in your mouth as a reminder to be fastidious when preparing our food. Don't swallow it, I will ask you to show me it later".
Mistress Gemma spoke, "Go to the kitchen now cucky. We want our main course in 10 minutes".
"Yes Your Highness".
I scurried off being careful to keep the piece of gristle between my cheek and my teeth so as not to accidentally swallow it. I knew Sir Max would make a point of making me show it to him in front of the others before he gave me my flogging as a demonstration of his control over me.
I served the dinner in 10 minutes as ordered then knelt expecting to go under the table again but, instead, Princess Sheridan spoke to me,
"I've been chatting to my sister about your wedding photos you have around the house cucky".
"Yes Your Majesty".
"While we're having our dinner, I want you to collect them all, and any framed photos of you, and bring them to the table. Off you go boy".
"Yes Your Majesty". I headed off to do what I had been told. What was this about I wondered? I'd soon find out.
This story from subfootstool has been read 2 1 9 1 times