Perfect Madam Amelia is so perfect that I’d stare at her puke all day, and …

… and perfect Madam Kay is so damned perfect I’d look at her shit all day!

I’d worship them both – without exception – and I haven’t even seen them

But if either one asked me to drop down and kiss their feet – polish their shoes – bring them tea etc – I’d do it!

And drinks too, of course!

And food!

“Cooking is the most important, boy!” 

So said perfect Goddess Su, NO, not the cuckoldress – this was the OTHER Su, the Madam who wanted me to buy her diamonds!

“Cook and clean is your job too, boy!”

And the lady I did this the most for – even more than the others – the lady who sissified me so expertly from day one?

I still remember it!

PERFECT MADAM SUVI!

There is a reason I wrote “Mai,my lovely Indian maid” – 20,000 plus words- in one day – truly in the flow.

I still remember that long writing sessions, so did Suvi entrance me with her eyes, commands and statements!

Princess Joanie was written in the flow too …

So were most of my books, but as far as Goddesses and parties?

The Indian ladies I served did it best all those years ago.

Perfect Ms. Priyanka, Pooja and Mansi!

Moo, boy, moo!

Then of course Madam Carrie and the rest of her cohorts!

And they often puked on the floor after too much revelry, much like the ancient Romans did.

Then they’d eat again, puke again …

And often times, I remember this one Madam (lets say Amelia, but she was Madam Jyoti’s friend!).

She ordered salmon.

She was drunk before she ate, and it didnt agree with her, and as I pressed her legs (she was goin gto sleep) …

She just puked – without warning!

Normally, she’d (or anyone would) do it by turning their face the other day, but so blase and debase was my humiliation, she didnt care, and I had puke dripping ALL Over me.

(Much like I had Sophia’s Madam’s last bit of poo all over me the other day – as her third eye spat it out as I cleaned it reverently as she was bent over the sink, ass cheeks spread…)

I could literally taste the salmon!

She laughed at me, irritated.

“Boy! Clean!” 

And she pushed me away with her foot, and as I was cleaning, she said something she thought I didnt hear.

“I bet he’d eat that too!” she giggled. 

It was undigested, so …

Would I?

Probably not!

But I’ve eaten my own puke before – Jyoti made medo it, so who knows!

Is there any LIMIT to how far a true submissive male can go?

That one sole shot … that FOOT, that loook in the eye.

I’m gone, Madam!

Best,

Mike Watson