I’m on my knees, my face inches from the floor, as she struts past me. Her heels click against the hardwood, each step a reminder of where I stand. ‘I’m glad you’re home, baby,’ she purrs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. ‘I was bad today. Make me yours again?’ The words hang in the air, a challenge and a command. I can smell the musk of another man on her, a scent that makes my stomach churn. She’s already cleaned herself up, but the memory of what she did lingers. I’m her cuck, her plaything, and I know my place. I’ll lick the floor if she tells me to, just to prove my devotion. Her laughter echoes as she walks away, leaving me to my thoughts and the lingering aroma of her infidelity. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I’d do anything to keep her happy.