It was the second year
Between me and her there is a somehow of a free relationship, with the risks
Source: uncustomary.org
As usual, I woke up early; I squeezed out of my Mistress’s arms, I licked her soles, then the boots with heels, beside the bed. I went to the bathroom, I took off my shorts and I washed them with my hand and I put them to dry. I washed carefully and read the bathroom list. Every day, according to my schedule, according to the Master’s rules, I had three punishments for the morning in the bathroom. I checked out a square of tiles, which meant to wash and lick it, I cleaned up the sink, with a wet cloth, then a dry cloth and finally a scented solution. I went back to the room, I took my Mistress panties and dressed them. It was the ritual everyday to dress the Mistress’s underwear for a day before washing it. I licked the Mistress’s panties and then I started a light massage, from the breasts down, ending with the toes. The breast massage was done after the Mistress was awake. She moaned easily. When I did all those things, she smiled, opened her eyes for a moment and changed her position in sleep, almost coming back on her abdomen and loosening her legs gently. I continued to lick in circles, sucking from the ankles to the thighs and especially to the buttocks. I used to squeeze the tip of my tongue into a perfume of roses from time to time. As I reached her anus, I dipped my tongue into a regenerating oil and began licking, toning the anus, while I was slowly massaging her buttocks. I kissed her lightly on her butt because time passed. I changed my nightgown with my kitchen gown and I went over to prepare breakfast.
My portion, much smaller, I prepared it, mixed in a bowl. I put a fried egg, a slice of bread, a teaspoon of jam, a glass of milk, a piece of ham. Usually I was allowed to eat before. The condition was to consume afterwards everything that my Mistress was throwing into my bowl. “I love seeing you eat,” she was saying. Once, she threw a napkin. I do not know if she was distracted or did it intentionally. But I consumed it in front of her, that crumpled napkin, and she did not say anything. She woke up. I sat on my knees behind her, dressed again in the night coat. She sometimes was playful. I did massage her bust, arms, head. With her head turned sideways, she gave me the morning kiss. A brief kiss. At that moment, I was not allowed to touch her with my hands (only She ) … It was by convention the price of my slavery, the only moment of the day when we were meeting like equals … In the morning when she was not doing it, I was waiting for a possibly torture chamber. There, she was getting my skin caught with all kinds of clamps and accessories; she was letting me eat leaves, stuffing my mouth with old socks. She was making me wear very tight clothes and she was whipping me. I helped her to dress, of course, and I pulled on her the new panties and some white and large pants. She served breakfast in bed, then grabbed my penis and pulled me over her. I forgot to say: always when she was eating, if I wasn’t eating, I had to wait with the penis on the edge of the table or bed, a position where I seemed to be very exposed, vulnerable. Think: If a stranger was assisting: how humiliating my situation would look like! The Mistress put herself on doggy style: I pulled her pants and panties up to her knees and I penetrate her from behind. I was not allowed to ejaculate except at the command of the Mistress. I was having experience.
I stopped only once, until the Mistress told me like it was a serious command: ” Lick me!” and she was turning until I reached the tongue between the buttocks, the vagina, the clitoris, between the legs. “Go and eat,” she whispered. I sat down on the carpet and I took the dish tray. I brought the Mistress some leather pants, which she made me sign to put them on the bed. I tied up the lasso to my penis, which was connected to a handle placed near her bed. I headed, like I was a dog, to the bowl at the end of the kitchen. ” Crawl,” she told me, when I had just begun. I’ve executed. That crawling was involving a special technique, by putting the penis in constant contact with the soil. She was doing, the poor thing, her tedious duty of being as harsh as possible with me, more and more harsh, without falling into vulgarity … We were getting along so well and used to smile, even when she was mimicking anger, she was having something of a child, and something feminine and loving at the same time. She was the kind of person who you could not resist to. In society, everyone was falling naturally to her feet, without even understanding why. She was imposing like a feline …
– I love you! I told her, before leaning over to the bowl.
She pulled her leather pants on and she was coming near me with big steps.
– Then I forgive you, she told me while she was getting on my back to ride me me and she was pinching my collar to my neck.
– You will not have to wash the bowl now, I’ll whip you when you wash the dishes.
I was crawling when a gentle push in my ass with her foot told me what she was thinking.
– Get up, she told me at the same time as she pulled the collar. Continue!
That meant picking up the bowl, putting it in the place specially designed for this situation, somewhere higher. I was OBLIGED to eat everything without using my hands. When she felt I was licking, she pulled the belt and took me to the bathroom. In the bathroom, she twisted my back on the floor from a strap. I turned back on my abdomen and got up in 4 feet. She got off my me.
While the Mistress was washing her teeth and face, I washed my face and the tongue with the toilet water.
It was also a test of the exceptional cleanliness I was keeping in the whole home. It was never known when the Mistress wanted me to lick a window … I started to wipe my face with my towel, a giant feminine panties, made of cotton … I sat on the toilet. She came in front of me. I unzipped her pants, I took them off and I kissed her. She was sitting sideways in my arms and urinated. Her urine was flowing along my penis while we were kissing.
– I love you, she told me.
She slowly raised her legs and I undressed her. She suddenly took my penis in her hands with naughtiness.
– When did you last ejaculate? She asked me.
– 22 days ago, Your Grace, I replied.
– If you are good, maybe today … she said.
An old rule of ours said that we did not dispose of my sperm, I was not ejaculating, masturbating, except at the command of the Mistress. Even when we were having sex. That was keeping my potency, my sexual libido, for the needs and pleasure of the Mistress. If it happen to masturbate in her absence, I had to report it and I was harshly punished. Like in that moment. She had refused me, for so long, the right to ejaculate … And that day …we had a guest! It was about one of the Mistress’s friends. I did not talk to her, except on the phone, at the command of the Mistress.
