Day In The Life 3 (Dinnertime)

Dinnertime came, and Rob found himself seated alone, at a table large enough to fight eight comfortably, and it could easily sit ten without much trouble, either. Yet, he sat by himself, his slaves standing to his side, four to his left and four to his right. Lying on the floor before the girls were eight stainless steel dog dishes. Only Tifa and Brigitte were absent, but they soon made an appearance, entering from the kitchen, dressed only in thin aprons that clung to the front of their bodies, hiding little and revealing much.

Tifa carried with her a tray covered by a silver cloche, while Brigitte held a large stewpot and ladle. As Tifa set the tray down before Rob, Brigitte went about to each of the dog dishes, spooning a pile of high-protein, nutritious, but grey and tasteless slop into the bowls. All of the other slavegirls stood perfectly still and at attention, arms at their sides, unblinking, with faint smiles upon their faces.

"Dinner is served Master!" Tifa declared as she lifted the cloche with a flourish. Her culinary skills made her the primary cook in the household, with Brigitte now assisting given her role of domestic **** and housewife. Rob inhaled deeply, savouring the aromas of Tifa's cooking, while she and Brigitte took their places to Rob's immediate left and right, joining their fellow slaves in attentive trances.

Rob ate the first few bites of his dinner with deliberateness, chewing thoroughly and enjoying the flavour. Enjoying the effort, the service. He could really taste the devotion and obedience in his girls' cooking.

"I think you've outdone yourselves tonight, girls." Rob said after a sip of wine. Tifa and Brigitte both smiled proudly.

"Serving you is my life, Master." Tifa replied. "You are my everything, so I do all I can to ensure your happiness."

"I love being your domestic ****, my love." Brigitte chirped. "I know I am new at all this and still learning, but I promise to be the best slavewife I can manage."

Rob leaned back in his chair, nodding and smiling, giving a quick snap of his fingers, before going back to his meal.

Upon his snap, all then women dropped down to their knees and shoved their faces into their respective dog bowls, ravenously devouring the gruel served to them as if it were the finest meal on the planet. As if they had been starved for weeks and weeks and finally found food and sustenance. They ate with only their mouths, hands firmly on the floor as instructed, thoughtlessly consuming the slop as fast as they could.

Rob had no sustained desire to be cruel to his harem, he fully did believe he loved them and would shower them with the affection they deserved. But, every now and again, some misogynistic namecalling or forcing them to perform some demeaning act wouldn't hurt anyone, now would it? After all, variety was the spice of life, and what were slaves for if you couldn't have some lurid fun every once in a while?

The girls all ate ceaselessly, finishing their dishes before licking the bowls clean, and then licking the hardwood floor for any glop of gruel that spilled over during their feeding frenzy. As Rob finished his meal, the ten of them had gathered about, licking and kissing their faces clean of any stray foodstuffs, like a clowder of cats.

"Would Master care for any dessert tonight?" Brigitte asked, as she and Tifa cleaned the table.

"Not tonight, no." Rob said. "I think I'll take a shower soon. But first, be a dear Brigitte and fetch me those new mugs we got today. The big glass ones."

"Right away, dear."

Soon, ten glass boilermaker mugs were placed upon the table, each of them twenty-four ounce behemoths that wouldn't be out of place at an Oktoberfest beer garden. One by one, with his harem still kneeling tableside, Rob went about the table and stroked his cock, urging it to fire off instantly. An impossible outburst of semen followed, Rob filling each mug to the brim with his hot spunk like he was his own personal beer tap. With his sexual powers, he had them all filled in no time, his **** each taking turns to clean up any stray cum that splattered on the table or floor.

"Okay, ladies, we're going to play a little game." Rob said, once he sat back down at his seat at the table. He motioned for them all to stand up, each taking a position at the table in front of a mug of cum. They all stared with a primal need to consume the bubbling cup of seed before them. "I think I'd like a companion to join me in the shower, so we'll do this nice and fair. The first one of you to drink all your cum gets to join me. And no powers," he looked straight at Kamala who pouted. She easily could have turned her mouth into a narrow pipe and just vacuumed the slurry right up. "I want this to be fair and square. The girl who wants this the most wins, understand?"

They most certainly did, as it seemed from a glance all of them wanted it more than anything. Zarya craned her neck side-to-side like she was about to enter a fierce physical competition. Urbosa licked her lips, having had her first taste of cum ever only recently, but no craving more. Shulkie idly tweaked at a pointed nipple while Korri gently touched herself. This contest was going to make the feeding frenzy moments ago seem like a proper British tea party.

Rob raised a hand. "Ready? Begin!"

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