Master's House

I like to think master cherishes the time we spend together the same way that I do. Or at least I would if I had the capabilities of independent thought. Making my final preparations for the day before he gets home from work I was considering if he thinks of me when he's there. This, of course I shall never know. Asking his excellency such impudent questions would most likely earn me a spanking and a cut back on my food privileges, so such things were probably better left in my head. For an educated man he has a surprisingly irritable disposition toward my inquisitiveness - I want to know how important I am to him so that I can fuel my ego.

As all good dominant partners recognise this aspect of a subs consciousness must be obliterated without prejudice. Humility should be the centre of my existence so I can be the best agent of his will as is in my power, all sense of selfhood should be wiped like dust from the top of his bookshelf. Acting as his housemaid furthers my convictions in his ownership and reinforces that all his training can be seen in my tending to his living space. Allegorical conformation in the physical sphere - if you will for a second indulge my pretence. As a dumb whore having objective metaphors to translate masters salient direction for my mind is helpful and humbling. It reminds me that even when he is not there his mastery resounds.

Returning my duster to it's cupboard, I heard a key in the front door. I'm not in position to greet and I can already feel the pangs in my ass from the correction I shall receive later. My carelessness will not be overlooked. Sir marches into the living room and I instantly drop to my knees. All the air leaves my lungs and he doesn't acknowledge me. I stare at the floor. Master removes his coat and drops it in a heap next to me, sits on the sofa and removes his work shoes. Wordlessly he waves his hand in a downward motion gesturing me to stay put and exits the room.

Having slipped into something more comfortable he stands above me lifting my chin. 'Good dog' he intones kindly and ruffles my hair before issuing his orders 'You may go and hang masters coat up now pup, then bring me my brandy and your collar'. My heart fell out of my arse, knowing I was going to pay for my abstract attention to detail. Before could begin to cry I scarpered raising his coat along with myself.

Master is sat reading something or other that my brain could probably not decipher when I walk back into the room. Placing his brandy on the coffee table with care I once again fall to his feet holding the collar out to him. Without looking up he speaks down to me 'last time I checked dogs don't use their hands' he takes it out of mine placing it on the floor between his feet and orders 'give it to me properly, bitch'. Its between my teeth and the only thing that I can think is why is he talking so long to remove it. Fifteen minutes pass by without him even so much as acknowledging me and I just sit before him as if I'm a piece trash he's too good to pick up. Eventually I feel my bladder convulse and become uncomfortable causing me to let out a whimper. Outraged he looks down on me with a face like thunder.

'Do you not have better things to be doing that sitting in front of me waiting for attention that I'm not going to give? If you want my cock you roll over and beg with your face down and ass up.' When he said this my instinctual penis envy kicked in (which of course is the root cause of my submissive nature) and I began to go through the motions he had just described to me.

But, before I could fully turn he grabbed the scruff of my neck and placed me back on my knees. I couldn't help but illicit high pitched yelps as he bought me back to face him. Flicking me on the nose, I puffed my chest out as he manhandled my breasts digging his nails into my nipples, squeezing and pulling whilst I writhed in discomfort. Wordlessly his grasp on my chest got tighter and tighter causing me to pull away. He grabbed my ankle as I tried to escape his grasp. Pulling me towards him as if I were a suitcase he then lifted me onto the sofa and began to penetrate my holes.

His day was clearly long and stressful without me.