What's next?
Tagalong
You opened the door. Carrie was there with a sly smile.
"Hey," you said, inviting her in.
"So. Jerome got a promotion. We're moving to Atlanta," she said simply. You stared at her.
"So ... I won't see you anymore?" Carrie scoffed.
"I want you to go with us. Tagalong. Continue to be my cuck. Be my secretary. Be whatever the fuck I want you to be and need you to be." She walked in, pushing you back to the couch.
"I'll hire you. Make sure you have a living wage. But you're just a toy," she said, reaching down to undo your jeans and unzip them. She pulled out your small white cock, tsking it as she jerked you hard.
"I don't know, Carrie," you said, doubtfully.
"Shut the fuck up. You do know. Your cock knows. I think it likes knowing the peak it'll get is handjobs. What do you think?" she taunted. After a moment, she got her answer as you squirted your weak seed all over your shirt, leaving a vivid stain.
"Here's your ticket. I'd pack light."
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