At various establishments between Rotherham and Newcastle there’s a back room. Well, in some it’s a back room, in others a basement, in others an upstairs room. These rooms act as illegal brothels where a working man can have a quick blowjob or hand relief. Thankfully for the workers, the owner is meticulous on points of hygiene and all oral is performed with the guy wearing a super fine condom. After a busy night, in which dozens of burly lorry drivers have passed through their doors, there may be as many as forty used condoms in each of these establishments.
For more than a year I’ve had two of my sissies driving from establishment to establishment across the north of England to collect these used condoms. The two sissies are an unlikely duo: one is a successful biochemist and the other works in a bottling factory; however, in my hive the drones are the drones.
Once they finish their rounds they take the condoms to a spare room where the biochemist has set up a cum processing farm. Exactly what the process is, I don’t remember – for only a filthy sissy would be interested in such details – but the result is the same: cum is hand squeezed out of each condom, and collected (I believe they like to call it harvesting). The biochemist then does something with a high velocity centrifuge and some bio agents – which kill any nasty bacteria (apparently, they keep some of the uncleaned sperm for personal use, but I haven’t been able to confirm this.)
At the beginning of each month, the sissy from the bottling plant swipes 24 ketchup bottles to store the sperm in. This allows the cum to be squeezed like ketchup into the mouth of slaves at The Sissy Farm, and also makes the preparation of a cum bowl much easier.
The cum bowl is for you, my pretty little sissy, and you will experience it on your second night at The Sissy Farm when, as a special treat, I allow you to stay up late and sit at my feet as I talk to my Angels.
Yes, you will sit at the foot of my leather chair. You will be dressed in a powder blue satin nightie with matching robe.
But before we go on, let me ask you a question. I know that a sissy likes thing all frilly, but do you like latex?
Your Mistress only wears custom made garments made by the world’s finest latex tailor in Bavaria, using a unique blend of rubber and organic materials. As you sit at my feet you will marvel at the shine of my latex catsuit…it gleams like insect armour and will send a shiver through your body and your sissy clit will strain against its chastity device. There is something primitive about that shiny plastic which, like a PVC remote control, has you extending your tongue, desperate to lick it. Of course, a sissy with its tongue out is most unsightly, so I rebuke you. However, as my housekeeper informed me that you carried out your maid’s duties well that day, I will dispense your reward.
Dipping my latex gloved finger in the bowl of cum, I extract a generous blob and place it on my latex clad leg. You stare a moment at the white globule as it starts to drip downwards and then I look at you. Your sense of individuality is so subsumed by the will of your Mistress that you know this look is your permission to feed on the cum-cocktail you thirst for. Leaning forward, you take an exploratory lick, and then thrust your sissy snout into that puddle of cum and latex and start slurping away.
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