And just like that, I was back in the dining room, wiping down wine-stained plates with trembling hands.
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The echo of that night still hummed in my chest. Her words weren’t just a memory, they were a truth I now lived with every day. A truth that had reshaped everything.
No more hoping. No more bargaining. No more fantasies of earning my way back inside her.
That door was closed.
Now, I existed in the margins, cleaning, serving, kneeling quietly while she laughed with someone else across the room.
Mistress’s voice, casual and distant, floated from the living room. "Puppy, when you’re done in there, come kneel by the couch."
"Yes, Mistress," I called back softly, setting the last plate in the sink.
My knees found the floor again.
They kept chatting on the couch for a while, laughing softly, sipping wine, comfortably close. I knelt quietly by the couch, half-forgotten, yet always present. Until Mike shifted slightly and murmured, "I should probably find the bathroom."
Mistress tilted her head. "Why bother?" she said casually, glancing at me. "You can use him."
I froze. My stomach clenched.
Mike hesitated, unsure. "I mean… I don’t want to"
But she interrupted, her voice firm and smooth. "I insist. He's here for your comfort, Mike. Not his."
That was that.
I knew what was expected of me. I stepped forward and knelt before him without a word. But just as my fingers reached for his waistband, a sharp slap cracked across my face.
"Don’t you think you need to ask Mike’s permission first, cuckie?" Mistress said, her voice deceptively soft.
"I’m sorry, Mistress," I whispered quickly, my cheek stinging. I turned to Mike, eyes lowered. "May I, Sir?"
He looked briefly to her, then nodded. "You may."
I gently unzipped his pants and reached inside to free him. His cock was warm in my hand, already half-hard. I opened my mouth and placed the tip on my tongue, lips sealing around the shaft, my eyes lifting to him in silent readiness.
He understood.
A moment later, the stream began, slow and steady. I focused on swallowing every drop. The salty warmth coated my tongue, slid down my throat and filled my belly with shame. But I didn’t flinch. I didn’t spill.
Mistress watched, biting her lip. She looked genuinely aroused, turned on by the quiet obedience, the degradation, the way I gulped it all down like it was my place.
Mike was careful, peeing slowly. He must’ve known the consequences if I spilled even a drop. Mistress could be cruel. He’d seen it before. He didn’t want that for me. His eyes met mine briefly and he gave the nod. I returned it with my eyes, my lips still wrapped around him, still swallowing.
When he was done, he zipped up and returned to the couch.
Mistress was already waiting for him, heat in her eyes. She pulled him into a kiss, her mouth hungry, wet, her hands sliding beneath his shirt. He cupped her breasts and she moaned against his lips.
As they made out, she extended her foot toward me without looking. "Suck my toes," she said.
I obeyed instantly, taking her foot in both hands, guiding her toes into my mouth. I sucked slowly, reverently, my tongue swirling around each one. I watched them as her legs curled over his lap, his fingers teasing her nipples, her body rocking gently with need.
My cock pulsed wildly in its cage. I could feel the precum leaking, so much arousal and absolutely no release.
Mistress noticed. She pushed her foot deeper into my mouth. "Pathetic little thing," she murmured. "Look at how hard you leak just from serving."
Eventually, they paused just for a breath before rising from the couch. Her lipstick was smudged. His fly was still slightly open. She looked down and saw the small puddle of my precum on the floor.
She laughed softly. "You made a mess again."
I looked away, ashamed.
"Lick it up," she said, calm and decisive. "Then crawl to the bedroom. We’ll need you there."
"Yes, Mistress."
They walked off without waiting.
I knelt and bent down, dragging my tongue slowly across the floor, cleaning up every drop of my own mess. When the floor was spotless, I followed them.
On my hands and knees. Like the obedient little thing I’d become.