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“You're welcome, sissy,” she laughed. “And my, what an adorable, tiny little sissy-clitty you have, now that you're going all soft after you've cum!” My blush intensified dramatically, hearing that. I'd always been a grower, not a shower; I knew six inches was slightly above average, when I was hard, but now that I'd cum I was rapidly shrinking to barely three.

“Cardinal Phelps! It was Cardinal Phelps! He ordered me to kill you! It’s as you say, because of Seraph and the Knight’s Sheath. Do you have any idea how much damage you caused this country and the church with your sins? Uther was mighty, with a bright future! Then you came along, sowing seeds of discord, driving a wedge between the kingdom and the gods, and crippling our savior! Had you stayed in exile, you would have been left alone, but you being here now will bring nothing but trouble!”

I retrieved my bag that had some clean running clothes in it and returned to the master shower. I turned on the water, steaming hot, stripped, opened the glass door and stepped in. I thought at the time it was a nice shower, but I know now it was a typical tract house cubical. I was thankful for the opportunity to jack off, as my cock had been rock hard since Mrs. B’s dress rode up, exposing her lovely thighs when she got in the car. I was just soaping up my dick to get some relief when I was startled by the opening of the shower door. Mrs. B. stepped into the shower, naked, holding a plastic cup. She handed me the cup.