It happened gradually but what can I say. I had no choice. I was subject to her whims, her desires, her impulses and if I didn't comply, I would take the consequences. It was a beautiful day, and the sun was shining. Karen suggested we go for a walk. I grabbed my trainers from the porch.
"No not those the wellingtons," Karen instructed. It was not the weather to need them, and they would make my feet sweaty and uncomfortable. It was not worth the argument.
We drove to the local woods and I was relieved when she drove into the small North carpark. The overside of the woods was known for dogging.
"Stand there a moment," she said as I was getting out and she opened the boot and then stepped behind me and slid her hand inside the pocket of my track suit bottoms and squeezed my thigh. She held the waistbands of my tracksuit bottoms and pants open at the back. She paused and I wondered what she was doing. The unexpected cold wetness shocked me as she poured a 1kg carton of custard down inside my pants. I could already feel it seep out of my pants and trickled down the backs of my legs. She let the waist band go at the back and moved to the front opening the waistbands again of the pants and track suit bottoms and poured another 1 kg carton inside. I watched as she methodically squeezed the custard out. The cold gloopy vanilla filling my pants surrounding my cock and balls. She let go the waistband and I stood still trying not to disturb the sticky liquid in my pants but she grabbed either side of the waist band of my track suit bottoms and pulled them upwards giving me a wedgie. A wave of custard squeezed out of the leg holes of my pants and streamed down the inside of tracksuit bottoms. It continued to flow, and I felt it trickle over my skin until it reached my ankles. It gathered inside my ankles and started to soak into the top of my socks.
Karen opened another carton of custard and poured it inside the front of my pants.
"Right, come on," Karen said taking me by the hand and led me into the wood. As I walked the custard glided down the inside of my tracksuit bottoms. It cool stickiness slid over my skin. The custard leaked out at the ankles into each of the boots and pooled in the foot. I nervously watched for other walkers aware of the squelching sound that came from inside my boots. It soaked though my socks but continued to run down the inside of the lined tracksuit bottoms and gather in the boots. I walked on my socked feet in their own private custard puddles. My legs sticky, the inside of my tracksuit bottoms clung to them and custard continued seeping out of my pants.
I wanted to walk at a brisk pace but Karen was in no rush. We sauntered into the woods getting closer and closer to the cruising area. My lower half was covered with custard and we happened to be heading into a notorious dogging area. This was not a coincidence. Two men walked past us and Karen winked when one caught her eye. We continued walking and the custard slopped in my boots.
We came towards a clearing and I saw a big white van its back doors were open and a group of men were gathered around it. As we got closer I could see they were a bit intimate and I came to a halt but Karen just smiled and led me on. We joined the watching group each waiting for their turn in the van. Some with cocks out, some touching others. But no women.
"Does anyone want a taste of vanilla ?" Karen offered as she pulled my tracksuit bottoms and pants down far enough to expose me front and back. After showing them my custard covered parts she pulled the pants back up and then poured another 1kg carton of custard into them and pulled the tracksuit bottoms up. She pushed me back so I sat on the back of the van.
"Take his boots off," she told two men. They pulled my boots and they squelched as they slipped off. Another man stood between them as they lifted my custard soaked sock clad feet together around his hard cock. and rubbed them back and forth. I made his throbbing cock wet with custard and then he pulled back.
"Take his socks off." Karen said,"he has been wearing them for a week." Now I knew why she hadn't let me change them. The two men took them off and put them on their erections. Each held one of my ankles in one hand whilst licking my feet clean and masturbating themselves into my socks with the others. As their tongues stroked my feet, Karen's did the same to the hard-on of the third. They came in my socks and put them back on my now clean feet and then put my feet back into the custard boots.
"Today was a taster event" Karen said addressing the group, "you have my email, contact with your proposals on how you intend to use him. The dirtier the better."
Then Karen led me back through the forest.