New Shoes for Mistress

My darlings, I wrote the little scene below just for you...and in first person, so you could imagine yourself in the role of my sissy slut cuckold husband as you read. While you read, tink about it, what would "you" do to get Mistress her new shoes?

I approach Mistress, stop, and curtsy.
She and Master Alex are cuddling on the sofa, reading the Sunday paper. "What?" she asks.
I curtsy again, "I finished cleaning the kitchen, Mistress."
She dismisses me with a wave of her hand, "Go ahead and eat your breakfast."
I lay on my towel, on the floor, at their feet. My oatmeal has been in my dish for an hour, before I made and served their breakfast and cleaned up. I bend my head into the dish and begin to lick out the cold, congealed slop.
"Ooohh, look at these shoes," Mistress says.
I hear the rustling of the newspaper.
"Nice, very sexy," Master Alex's deep voice sounds from above me.
"Three hundred dollars, rather pricey," Mistress nudges me with the heel of her slipper. "I want these shoes, slut."
"Yeth, Mithreth," my face is in my dish, my tongue full of oatmeal.
"You know," Mistress begins to think out loud, "if our little slut gives blow jobs for $10 each, that's only 30 blow jobs and I could have these shoes." She kicked me, "You DO want me to have these shoes, don't you?"
I nod my head, "Oh, yes, Mistress."
"I can throw her in the back of the van," Master Alex says, "take her down to the warehouse, the loading dock. The workers, truck drivers, hell she could probably make that in a day and a half, a day if she really worked at it."
"Really?" Mistress's voice had an evil tinge, "that's about what, sucking a cock every fifteen minutes for an eight-hour shift? So in three or four days, I could get a red and a black pair."
I feel Master Alex's foot on the back of my head as he pushes my face into the oatmeal.
"I don't see why not," he says "I'll even award everyone an on-the-spot performance bonus so they have their entertainment money."
"You can do that?" she giggled.
I hear them kiss.
"Sure, I'm the plant general manager."
She kicked me again, "Hear that slut, you need to give 60 blow jobs this week, and the sale on these shoes ends Friday, so I'd get with it on Monday morning. The quicker you earn my shoe money, the better."
"Don't forget sales tax," Master Alex added.
"Yes, good point, 70 blow jobs, hear that, you need to have at least 70 cocks in that slut mouth of yours this week. And I still expect all the housework and your chores done."

(c) 2010 Constance Pennington Smythe

Whips and Kisses,
Mistress Constance