“My goodness,” said Alyssa, blinking as she took the contract of his sperm-slavery from him gingerly, “some degraded, cuckolded, sperm-eating pervert certainly needed to commit himself to that, eh?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Brad replied quietly. He watched her place the dripping sheet of crimson paper carefully flat so that its fluids would congeal in place, properly memorializing the undeniable evidence of his sweet, subservient ejaculation. Again he marveled at the phenomenal mess. Ah, but in the throes of his helpless delight, how good it had felt, how natural, how right! For was that not, he mused, what any shameless perversion was, so long as it had been commanded by his dear mistress…?
But then he blinked. Suddenly he realized she was looking at him. Quickly he drew his guilty gaze from th
