The Bull, Part 6 (Patreon)

Hi everyone! Hope you had a good Christmas and are about to have a happy new year. Right now as I write this post it's the afternoon of new years' eve, and in a few hours I'm headed down to the beach for a bonfire - one advantage of living in the Southern Hemisphere.

Sorry to keep you waiting so long for new content; December has been an incredibly busy month for me. What with Christmas shopping and a bunch of social engagements keeping me busy earlier in the month, through to several days tied up with family visiting town for Christmas, I haven't had much time to write. I've been off work for over a week now but today is the first day I've had properly to myself in that time.

And when I finally have been able to squeeze in a bit of time, I've had a bit of of writers' block that's made it really hard to pick up where I left off with this story. It's been a while since I've found writing this hard, and I'm not used to it! 

I think part of the reason I'm struggling is because I took a long break from this story to write I'll Be Cucked For Christmas, and I need to get back into the right frame of mind. I think it's also because this story is a little more complicated than most of my more recent ones - so I know where I'm trying to get to and I know a bunch of general things I want to happen on the way, but the order of them and how they relate to each other is hard to work out.

So thanks for your patience! I still only have a little bit (about 800 words) to share, but I have a few days before I go back to work so I'm hoping I can get really stuck in over the next few days and have some more to share soon. In the meantime I hope you enjoy this little bit.

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So from that point it was clear it was the cuck’s job to keep the marital bed made. But that was only the start; it became apparent real quick that this guy fucking loved playing the household slave. He cooked all the meals, did all the cleaning, bought the groceries, and did all the laundry — including mine. He took care of everything so Cooper and I could take it easy and enjoy our time together — which we very much did. We spent some evenings fucking for hours, and others curled up on the sofa together while the cuck sat quietly out of the way on the other side of the room.

It was pretty obvious that it wasn’t just about the servitude though; as well as being a service oriented sub the guy was also a total pig for humiliation. It didn’t take me long to settle into the role of bully, which was interesting — I’d been raised to be respectful, so I was surprised by how much I enjoyed pushing this little bitch around. Seeing his reaction when I disrespected him wasn’t just entertaining, it even turned me on a little.

After about the first week I’d given up calling him by his name; as far as I was concerned he didn’t even have one, he was just ‘the cuck’. I stopped acknowledging when he did chores for me, and I started berating him when he didn’t get to them fast enough. I even made a rule for him that every time his husband and I fucked he had to thank me for it. And after the first day of that he’d become so accustomed to thanking me that I never had to remind him again.

Pushing his buttons was how I found out about his foot fetish. We were lying on the sofa in front of the TV watching a movie one night, and my feet were killing me from the long run I’d been on earlier that day. I commented on it, and as a joke said to Cooper, “Maybe I should get the cuck to give me a foot massage.”

The cuck’s eyes lit up at that and he hopped to his feet. “I’d be happy to,” he volunteered.

Surprised by his enthusiasm, I just shrugged and nodded. And for the rest of the film — maybe close to an hour and a half — he sat there on the floor in front of me, massaging my feet. He was facing me, not the TV, which meant he didn’t even get to see the rest of the movie, but he didn’t seem to mind; every time I glanced down at him he seemed completely enthralled by my feet. And when the movie ended and I got up — of course, without a thank you or any kind of acknowledgement whatsoever — I could see that he was pitching a tent in his pants from the experience.

“Gross,” I said, gesturing at his crotch. “Go take care of that, no one wants to see your little hard-on.” And the guy hurried off upstairs, half bent to hide his little erection.

The next morning I decided I’d give him a treat. When I got out of bed I called out for him. He came hurrying down the hallway, still looking half asleep. “What is it?” he asked, concern on his face.

“Follow me,” I ordered as I got out of the bed and walked into the en-suite.

I walked over to the toilet and started to take a piss. “Kiss my feet,” I told him.

I thought he might hesitate, ask for me to repeat myself like he usually did when I gave him a new command. But he didn’t wait a second. He was down on his hands and knees behind me, craning his neck around my legs to kiss my feet as I stood there pissing. God, it was pathetic, but it was clear the cuck was loving it.

I made sure to let a few drops of piss land in his hair as I shook my dick off. Then I told him, “Now fuck off,” and gave him a gentle kick out of the way as I walked back into the bedroom and got back into bed with Cooper.

The next morning he came creeping out of his room tentatively as soon as he heard me get out of bed. So I let him follow me into the bathroom and worship my feet again as I took my morning piss. And on the third day he was kneeling at the bedroom door before I’d even woken up, just waiting for his invitation. From that day on our routine was established, and the little foot freak loved it.