A New Low, and A Proprosal

Literotic asexstories – A New Low, and A Proprosal by hersalways,hersalways
Please note that this is a reasonably extreme tale of servitude and femdom, with toilet play, oral service, bisexual interaction, and general debauchery. Please do not read on if you are not seeking that. Another Night in Her Service is the precursor

My mistress wife and her lover Ben arrived home on a Sunday night, sometime after dark. Coming through the front door, they took off their shoes and sequentially handed them to me; I was kneeling awaiting their arrival, my head bowed. Neither spoke a word to me, instead heading upstairs to the bedroom. I diligently arose and went to the car parked in the driveway to collect their bags and bring them inside.

They had been on a camping trip the last three nights. Well, a “glamping” trip really. A quaint single roomed shack in a forest glade out of reach of cellphone reception. Beautiful setting, but basic; no water or flushing toilet, just a small gas BBQ and two wine glasses. Years ago, I would have loved to have taken her on one of those trips. Now, it is a complete pipedream for me. I stay at home, to keep the house clean, to perform the menial tasks on the list she left behind, and think of how much they were enjoying themselves. I suspect that she didn’t even think of me once.

Taking the bags inside, I went to the laundry. Most of the items inside were clothes from the trip. There were several dirty dishes from their meals that I would take to the kitchen and wash later. In the bottom of my wife’s bag was a pair of underwear from the trip. Shaking hands betraying the many months it had been since I had last cum, I raised the gusset of the frilled, skimpy lace to my nose and inhaled.

My god.

If the steel cage around my ever-shrinking cock wasn’t locked around my ever-aching testicles, I would have erupted right then and there. I had not smelled or tasted my mistress in such a way for three days. Her scent, concentrated in that she had not been able to shower or have her human washcloth attend her, and that of Ben’s after he had kept her entertained was intoxicating. A strong smell of her unwashed backside coated further along the gusset, which I pathetically also almost came over. The overarching smell of her piss was also present, a scent I remained intimately familiar with.

Before they had drove off on the trip, my wife had had me kneel down in front of her. She had indicated two bottles on the floor next to me.

“These I have filled for you the last two mornings. Apparently the first of the day is the strongest, I wouldn’t know. We’ll be gone three days so you will have to make them last.”

The contempt with which she viewed me now was heartbreaking. I knew that she found it disgusting that I lived to serve her and resorted to degrading myself in the lowest ways as a show of my ongoing love. Once, I knew she enjoyed the servile attention I provided her, but long ago that had disappeared, perhaps replaced by a genuine fascination for how far she could push the boundaries. I’m not sure there were many left. My wife had pissed in bottles to allow me the humiliating joy of having just something of hers whilst she was away.

“Upstairs.”

I heard Ben call down to me to meet them in the bedroom. I crawled up the stairs, conditioned to maintain a low position at all times when near them.

“Did you finish the bottles?”, my wife asked as I entered the room. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yes mistress”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes mistress”

“You enjoyed drinking my stale piss from bottles.”

“Yes mistress. Anything to please you”.

Ben scoffed in bewilderment. “A grateful human urinal. Fuck me, how pathetic”.

My wife looked at me with almost pity, although the look was only a flash, displaced by genuine disgust.

“We have had a wonderful trip, my slave. I honestly did not think about you once, until on the drive home. Ben and I discussed how degraded you have become. We’re not sure how much further you can be pushed.”

“I would do anything for you mistress.”

“I know. We haven’t showered for three days. There was no running water or flushing toilet. We couldn’t even make love last night as we were getting too ripe. How would you feel about cleaning us up?”

I started to shake uncontrollably. What a depraved request, and I was even disgusted at myself for how much I desired this. The humiliation and shame was clearly evident on my face, and my wife was almost surprised when I nodded.

“Me first”, she said, standing up.

I crawled over to her front and shakily reached up to pull her panties down. Immediately I was greeted with a cacophony of smells and I just about came again. Dank, stale pussy, clearly unwashed for several days, and old urine, with an overlay of sex secretions from her and Ben. My beautiful mistress turned away as I placed my mouth onto her pussy to start.

“Jesus. That’s so rank. I’m so sorry babe”, she said to Ben.

“Don’t be sorry babe, it’s his problem to deal with. My turn next”, he grinned.

I lapped away at the slime and juice that poured from the sex of my wife. My senses were completely overwhelmed. The earthy, salty taste of her was punctuated by the sour, acrid taste of stagnant urine and secretion. Ben’s loads which had clearly been left from the first two days of the trip, added another element of awful creamy flavour with the added humiliation and jealousy of what they represented. I swallowed several times to clear the fluids and felt waves of nausea.

This was infinitely worse that having to clean her pussy after they had recently fucked. On regular occasion, I had been called in to clean her up the morning after one of their sessions, and this new flavour was reminiscent. The bitter cream gave way to sour tang.

My wife patted my head, and I pulled my mouth away after a time. She then turned around and bent forward slightly.

“Now clean my ass”, she said, with the last word exiting as a giggle.

I leaned in to the smell of my wife’s dank ass. I could see residue on the inside of her crack and marveled at my own submission. I used my tongue like a wet wipe. Starting at one end, I licked upwards and collected the slime in my mouth. My nose bore the brunt of the assault as the smell was worse than the taste. I repeated this maneuver several times and then burrowed with my tongue down to her rosebud. My wife had not wiped this well after it was last used, and I collected a small amount of her shit on my tongue doing so. I swallowed quickly, tried not to gag, and continued, hoping I would dilute the taste with her other scents.

After tiring of my ministrations, my wife then reached around and pushed my head away abruptly. She turned around and regarded me as something disgusting she had accidentally stepped in.

“I need to piss now.”

With relief, I placed my mouth under her pussy so she could piss into it without touching it. She held my jaw and mercifully released a torrent of acrid, salty fluid into my mouth. It overpowered the other tastes that lingered, and was more fresh than the offerings from the bottle from the recent days. I moaned and closed my eyes.

The depths of my depravity now overcame me and I felt tears prickle my eyes and trickle down.

My wife finished and motioned for me to head over to Ben, turning and heading for the bathroom for her shower. Now that I had completed my debasement and act of submission, she could clean up.

Ben, still seated, had pulled his pants down and now presented me with his enormous member. I could see the shine of his and my wife’s discharge decorating its head, and I suspected his cock would taste more awful again. I was right.

I took his cock into my mouth and used my tongue to suck the last three days’ of activity. Buried somewhere in the taste of his excretions was the odour of my wife’s pussy. I tried to focus on that but it only came in waves, along with the nausea. The underlying cum taste kept coming to the fore.

When he was satisfied with my humiliation, he pushed my head away and stood up, turning around.

I was presented with my wife’s lover’s ass, and I leaned in to clean it.

Three days of sweat, discharge, and bodily function accumulated in the crack of a man who had long ago cuckolded me, and I leaned in to taste it. To clean him. I had reached a new low in life, and Ben sensed it. I had long ago been broken, but now I was truly shattered.

“Whoa man..”, he said, as I tended to his behind, swallowing periodically. “I didn’t really think it was possible to debase you to this point.”

As I shook nearly uncontrollably now with my arousal, I tried to continue cleaning Ben’s ass, but the shaking made it hard. He tired, and leaned forward to remove my tongue from his behind. He then wordlessly went to join my wife. I almost wanted him to piss in my mouth to change the taste in it.

I went downstairs to finish the unpacking and cleaning.

Later, freshened up, Ben and my wife came downstairs. It was well after dinner time so I had not prepared anything but crawled to the fridge to get them each a drink.

With sodas in their hands, they both sat at the table, and I knelt at the other end, my head just above the surface. I remained lower in position than them at all times

I was aware of the overpowering stink of their asses on my face as my wife spoke.

“I don’t love you any more.” She had said this many times before, and it still stung every time. “I do not view you as a husband, and haven’t for a long time.” She sighed, and regarding me as a sad object of pity. “How do you view me?”

The question threw me a little, as my wife had not asked my point of view for some time. I hesitated. “I guess as a goddess, mistress. I live to serve you, and to provide you with pleasure. I derive pleasure in debasing myself for you as it is in service of you.”

“Hmm”, she paused. “I view you as an object. A toilet. A cumrag. As something I might tolerate, like a tampon. And I think I was once curious as to how far you would go with it.”

Her words confirmed what I had suspected; and waves of humiliated arousal took me. My submission was complete. If I could have become erect, I would surely have done so.

“But”, she continued, “I wonder if we have reached the very bottom.” I felt a panic of anxiety at this.

“I will continue to serve you”, I offered, pleadingly.

Ben spoke: “you just voluntarily used your tongue to clean our genitals after not washing for three days. You did not hesitate when your wife asked you to clean my arsehole of shit and slime.” A feeling of dread crept over me.

My wife then spoke, and a ringing started in my ears: “I might have come to the end of the road with you. I’m bored of you now.” The direction of the conversation was becoming more apparent. “Ben has a friend who runs a brothel..”

“Please, mistress.”

Ben turned to her and nodded. “There’s nothing further for you here.”

My wife then looked me in the eye and finally delivered the blow: “you will serve at the brothel as you have served me. I am donating you as a morale slave.”

I could not believe what I was hearing, and slumped to the ground. My wife continued. “Perhaps your debasement will continue to find new lows there. You can go from my private urinal to a public one.”

Ben laughed at my misery now. “I’ll deliver you there in the morning”.

Then my mistress and her lover stood up and left to go to bed, leaving me in my agony and the pungent odour of their combined assholes in my nose and mouth.