The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains' slits, tinting the room in a soft pink hue that contrasted with the darkness of the previous night's humiliations. I, Allen, lay on the rumpled bed, my body still trembling from the echoes of Aiz's brutal footjob.
My small cock, sensitive and reddened from the stomps and kicks, rested flaccid against my thigh, but the mere memory of her insults—"useless cuck," "tiny dick"—sent a tingle of arousal through me. Aiz was curled up beside me, her naked body marked by fresh bruises, and though the Mark of Submission was just a mental link from the system—nothing physical, invisible to all but its effect on her—it had transformed her into a creature of amplified lust.
For now, only she bore it, a perverse secret that only I knew, along with the system that controlled everything.
She stirred first, stretching her arms overhead with a satisfied moan, her small tits rising with the movement.
Her blue eyes opened, focusing on me with that mix of forced love from the Oath and sadistic lust injected by the Mark. She turned toward me, her hand casually brushing my chest, trailing down to my crotch where her fingers toyed with my flaccid cock like an insignificant toy.
"Good morning, my little cuck," she murmured with a lazy smile, her voice hoarse from the night's moans. "Did you sleep well after licking your own cum off my feet? I have to admit… I'm starting to love this new lifestyle of ours. I used to be a proud noble, but now… being used like a whore by real men, humiliating you in front of them… it makes me feel alive.
The master knows what he's doing. And you? Do you like being my submissive bitch, watching them break me while you jerk off like a pathetic loser?"
Her words hit me like a wave of shame and pleasure. My cock twitched under her fingers, hardening slightly despite the exhaustion. I nodded, my voice coming out in a choked whisper. "Yes, Aiz… I like it. At first I hated it, but now… the humiliation turns me on. Being a cuck, cleaning up others' messes… it's addictive. It makes me feel… powerful in a twisted way. Like every degradation brings me closer to the throne."
She laughed softly, a musical but cruel sound, leaning in to kiss my cheek, her breath warm against my skin. "Well said, worthless. We're the perfect duo: me the noble whore, you the royal cuck. But now, I need a bath. My pussy's still dripping from last night… and I don't want you smelling like me all day. Stay here and think about how you're going to hand over your family as offerings."
She rose from the bed with feline grace, her round ass—marked by red welts—swaying as she walked to the door leading to the adjoining bath. The sound of her bare feet on the stone floor was hypnotic, and I watched her disappear, leaving behind a trail of her scent: sweat, sex, and submission.
The door closed with a soft click, and the noise of running water filled the air.
Alone on the bed, my mind flooded with images: Esther crawling in the Asura Sect, licking sweaty feet; Aiz riding my grandfather's massive cock; my mother bent over the Duke Wallenstein's desk, moaning like a slut. My hand instinctively slid to my crotch, wrapping around my small cock, which was already semi-erect from the memories. I began masturbating slowly, the motion familiar but laced with shame. The sensitive skin burned a bit from Aiz's stomps, but that only heightened the pleasure. I moaned softly, imagining my mother screaming in ecstasy under the duke, her pussy dripping cum as I licked up the excess.
The pace quickened, my fist pumping up and down with more urgency, pre-cum lubricating the head. I was close, the orgasm building like a storm, when the room door burst open. My mother entered without warning, as always, with a maternal smile on her face and a cup of tea in her hand.
Her eyes landed straight on me: kneeling on the bed, pants down, furiously jerking my tiny cock.
She stopped short, but instead of horror, a bubbly laugh escaped her lips. She covered her mouth with her free hand, but her eyes sparkled with malicious amusement. "Oh, son! What are you doing?" she said, her voice tinged with playful mockery. "Gods, look at that… so small. It's just like your father's. I always thought you'd inherit his… modesty. No wonder Aiz needs 'outside help.' Poor little cuck, masturbating alone in bed while your fiancée bathes."
Her words froze me, but my treacherous cock throbbed harder at the humiliation. I tried to cover up, but it was too late; she'd seen everything. A blush crept up my face, but I couldn't stop my hand's motion, which kept rubbing instinctively. My mother set the cup on the nightstand and approached the bed's edge, her mature curves pressing against the mattress. Her fitted dress accentuated her generous breasts, which rose with each stifled laugh. She leaned forward, her deep cleavage offering a tempting view of her soft, pale skin.
"Don't stop on my account, Allen," she whispered, her voice now lower, laced with a tone I'd never heard from her: seductive and dominant. "Let me see you stroke that ridiculous little thing. It's so… cute. Just like your father's, always struggling to satisfy. He begged me to cheat on him so many times, you know—said it would excite him—but I never did. I stayed faithful, even if his tiny dick left me wanting."
Her eyes didn't leave my cock, and that only aroused me more. I moaned, speeding up the rhythm, but before I could cum, she reached out decisively.
Her fingers, soft but firm, wrapped around my diminutive length, squeezing with unexpected force. The grip was painful and pleasurable at once, her palm warm against my sensitive skin. "Let Mommy help you, son," she said with a wicked smile, pumping once, twice, with a pressure that made me see stars.
The orgasm hit me like lightning, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Spurts of thick white semen splattered her hand, coating her fingers and palm with my pathetic load.
I moaned loudly, my body convulsing as she kept squeezing, milking every drop until nothing was left. The cum dripped between her fingers, warm and sticky, the salty scent filling the air.
My mother lifted her hand, inspecting the mess with a soft laugh. "Look how much you made, with so little… just like your father. Always so premature." Then, without warning, she leaned closer and smeared all the semen on my face: spreading it across my cheeks, my nose, my lips, as if painting me with my own shame. The hot liquid stuck to my skin, dripping down my chin, and I tasted its salty flavor when I inadvertently licked my lips.
She smiled broadly, her eyes gleaming with a mix of maternal affection and hidden sadism. "You're just like your father, Allen. A natural-born cuck, with a dick that impresses no one. But don't worry… Mommy will help you reach the throne, no matter the cost. Now, clean yourself"
She turned and left the room, leaving the door ajar, the echo of her laugh resonating in my ears. I remained there, my face smeared with my own cum, aroused and humiliated.