One day, you came to me and said in a simple tone, “I just want to please you.” I could see that my years of abuse, manipulation and reconstruction had finally left you pure and stripped, brilliant in service but blissfully stupid in your need to serve. I had you kneel while I explained how you’d become more the slave, wife, and woman than you ever imagined you could be, and I let you earn three loads from me, one for each facet of your success.
That was fifty-three years ago, today. I am an old man, as feeble as most. My hands tremble. I don’t have much… no, shush. Listen.
I don’t remember everything, but I remember that day, so long ago, and I know you do, too. You remember what I said to you. You remember the feeling of those three loads; you’ve felt them all these years, despite the gallons of my cum you’ve earned since then… yes, I knew you would. Shush. Wipe your eyes. I have to tell you this.
You are still more the slave, wife, and woman than I could have asked for. You take every affection and degradation with equal gratitude. You humble me with love. You have earned your place. You are worthy.
Shush. Sit beside me. I love you. Forever.