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I’ve just gotten back from my first date and honestly… it went perfectly. He had a little foot fetish and I thought it was so hot, so of course I decided to indulge him. I spent the night teasing him with my feet, letting him worship them and even gave him a footjob that he’d never forget. Meanwhile you weren’t there, were you? Of course not. You’re not the guy who gets the date. You’re the one who hears about it afterward while I sit here smiling about how much fun I had with someone who actually deserved my attention. Now it’s your turn to come in and deal with the aftermath, exactly like the pathetic little cuck you are. I mock you for how excited you get just hearing about my night, reminding you that your role was never to be the man taking me out. Your place is beneath that, cleaning up the mess and proving how devoted you are to me. It’s honestly hilarious how turned on you get by it, but I suppose that’s what makes you useful, isn’t it cuck?