Morning Coffee

I'm so tired...

I shuffle into the kitchen to make my morning coffee. I take the coffee from the cabinet and smell it when I open the lid. God, I love coffee. As I add the grounds and the water to the machine, I go through the day's routine in my head.

'That sales report is due at work today, and I've got to pay the cable bill before I forget. Oh and the kids...shit, today is snack day at preschool. Guess I'll have to whip something up before I leave for work. Where did I leave the pom-poms for cheer leading practice? I need to check the car...'

So much to do. I sigh deeply as I realize how hectic the day will be. But coffee will make it better. I flip the switch on the machine and turn absent-minded to grab my favorite mug; and I see Him out of the corner of my eye.

"Good morning, Master." I stand on my toes and move to kiss Him as he approaches me. He turns his cheek, denying me His luscious lips.

He has that look. I feel my eyes widen as a shiver runs through me and my skin prickles into goose bumps over every inch of my body. All it takes is that one look. I know it well. It sends me into a trance that only He can free me from. I stand frozen in place, holding my empty mug, feeling my panties moisten just by being near Him. His eyes narrow and He speaks:

"Pour me some coffee."

I turn around and fill my mug and hand it to Him.

"Now strip for me, slut."

I hesitate; the kids could wake at any minute...

"They're asleep. Strip."

He knows what I'm thinking. He always knows. There is no escape from Him; I silently chide myself for not knowing better. I begin to slide my panties down my thighs. He stops me by grabbing my wrist.

"Shirt first."

I immediately let go of my panties and slowly pull my shirt over my head, exposing my breasts, still tender and throbbing from the previous night's play. I look up at Him, His approving smile, and I melt on the inside. That smile always turns me into a quivering puddle of girl goo. I'm completely helpless now. I don't even want to fight it.

"Now the panties. Slowly."

He takes a sip of His coffee while He watches me. How can He be so calm? I'm absolutely vibrating on the inside, every bit of my being desperate for His touch. I slide my panties down to my knees, and let them drop the rest of the way to the floor, stepping out of them. I dare to sneak another look at His face, to see if He is pleased. He gives me no indication of His thoughts; He only meets my eyes and says very softly:

"Turn around and lean over the counter."

My breath catches in my throat at the mere words. My pussy is sore from the pounding my Master gave me last night, but I hunger for more. Anything to please Him. I turn around as instructed and lean forward, my legs trembling in excitement. I can't wait for Him to fuck me. My mind is screaming in desperation, but I remain quiet. As I feel Him nearing I stick out my ass and spread my legs.

"What an eager whore you are this morning."

"Yes, Master."

Silence.

I nearly turn around, but then I feel a strange warm sensation on my back. What is that...

"You're a table now, slut. You're going to hold my coffee for me. Balance it on your ass while I fuck you. No spilling or you will pay for it."

Oh my god...another delicious surprise, cooked up by my Master's beautiful, dark mind. I feel His cock press against my pussy lips; I want Him so bad.

"Don't. Fucking. Move."

I groan as He pushes into me slowly, filling me with His thickness. I want to push back, eager to feel every inch; but I dare not spill my Master's coffee. I can feel how hot it is through the bottom of the mug. I struggle not to arch my back or spread my legs further. I glance down and see His boxers pooled on the floor around His ankles as He finally pushes all the way inside me. I gasp and quiver; and feel hot liquid on my back. No...I was being so careful...

"You spilled."

He quickly pulls back and takes His dick away from me. I want to cry; I need it so bad. I need Him inside me, so badly that I physically ache for it. I feel empty now. He removes the mug of coffee from my back and takes another sip. So quiet, so calm. He moves away from me and I start to think it's over. No, please...it felt so good. I can't get through the day with this ache inside me. I begin to think of the words to beg Him to continue when suddenly He leans over me and pulls open the drawer next to me. I can see what He is after: the wooden spoon. The one with slats in it, the one that moves through the air so swiftly that I can't even hear it before it makes contact with my soft skin. He's going to spank me.

"I'm going to put my coffee back and use the spoon. I don't think I need to tell you to remain still."

"No, Master."

I giggle inside my mind, I can't help it. I love the way my Master knows how to handle me. I love how He keeps me in line, how He makes me obey. This is why I chose to be His, why I can't live without Him. I remain as still as possible and wait for my punishment. I was warned what would happen if I spilled His coffee – and now I will pay for not being careful. I know that I deserve my punishment and I wait patiently for what is coming to me.

CRACK

My first instinct is to jump as the spoon smacks against my ass, but I know I cannot. I bite my lip, search my mind for resolve, and strengthen myself for the next strike.

CRACK

Still no spilling...god, this is such sweet bliss. The feeling of the impact excites me like nothing else. I love being at my Master's mercy. I crave it.

Silence. Where is the third? I want more...

I feel the tip of the spoon barely touch my sore ass cheek. I feel His breath on my ear as He leans over me and whispers:

"You're enjoying this too much. You don't get any more."

The spoon clatters to the floor as He drops it. I feel Him remove the hot mug from its resting place on my ass.

"Kneel. Now."

My knees are weak already, so dropping to the floor would be such a relief - but I know my Master better than that. I must kneel gracefully, slowly. As I do so my thighs burn and my knees threaten to give out, but I ignore the pain as I lower myself all the way to the floor; kneeling in front of my Master, where I belong.

I assume the position I know He likes, with my feet tucked under my ass and my toes pointed. I sit tall and straighten my back, making my tits stand out – showing off my best feature for Him. My hands fall to my knees, resting on them with an open palm, facing up. I raise my head, but lower my eyes. This is second nature to me by now. My body knows this position so well I don't even need to think about it anymore. I was made for this. I wait for Him to speak, to move...to do something, anything. Moments pass, making minutes feel like days. When is He going to say something? How long must I wait?

His hand reaches down and He gently lifts my chin until I meet His eyes. My heart flutters. God, I could just drown in those eyes...my Master is so handsome, I'm so lucky.

"Since you enjoy being pleased so much, I'm going to stop. Now you will do the pleasing."

"Yes, Master."

"Wait here."

He lets go of my chin and I lower my head back into position and wait. I see His boxers being lifted off the ground, and then watch His feet as He walks out of the kitchen, leaving me alone and empty. I listen to His footsteps, trying to discern where He is going, what He might be doing. I yearn for His presence; I need Him back here with me. His footsteps near once again, and as much as I wish to lift my head and look at my Master; I keep my eyes to the floor and remain perfectly still.

"The kids are still asleep, so you're lucky. You get to make me cum before they wake."

"Thank you, Master."

The words escape my lips instantly, without thought or hesitation. He grabs His coffee and takes another calm, measured sip. He lowers the mug to my lips.

"Take a big sip of this and hold it in your mouth."

I oblige happily, holding a mouthful of hot coffee in my cheeks. Wow this is really fucking hot, how long do I have to do this?

"Now your head is the table, my little slave. Nod if you understand."

I nod eagerly, the coffee sloshing in my mouth as I do so.

"Good girl."

He pulls my hair into a ponytail (ouch, it's tight!) and nestles His mug on the top of my head. This is not the first time I have been made to balance an object on my head for my Master, and I sincerely hope that it won't be the last, either. As He steadies the mug and removes His hand, I force my body to remain perfectly still. I don't want to disappoint my Master, but I also really don't want coffee in my hair. I will not make a mistake this time.

He moves about the kitchen, locating the sugar and cream, and a spoon to stir. What is He doing? He doesn't even like that stuff, I buy it for my own coffee. I can't help but wonder what is going through His mind. He approaches me once more and...is He pouring the sugar in the mug on my head? I raise my eyes in confusion.

"Hold still, slut."

He must have seen my eyes wandering, searching for answers as to what is happening on the top of my head. I hear a soft splash as He slowly pours cream into the mug as well. Then the musical tinkling of the spoon against the sides of the mug as He stirs it. Every move is deliberate; He never does anything He doesn't mean to. I feel a gentle pressure come off of my head as He lifts the mug. He lowers it to my lips once more.

"Swallow that mouthful and take another."

Of course I do as I am told. Mmmm...there's nothing like that first drink of coffee in the morning. I feel it warm my insides as it goes down. I do prefer it with sugar and cream though, so I silently praise Him for flavoring it to my taste. I eagerly take another mouthful and hold it once again. Damn, it's still so hot. Why is He making me hold it? The pressure on my head returns, He's returned the mug to its place.

"Now that you've had a drink, the mug is not as full. Now you can use your mouth to please me without spilling it."

A moment of panic runs through me; how am I going to make this work? I've never had to move with something balanced on my head. I'm afraid I won't be able to succeed and the thought of displeasing my Master worries me deeply. But I take a slow, deep breath and concentrate. I will not fail.

"Swallow that coffee and open your mouth."

The coffee warms me once again as I drink. And again, I am so thankful for being allowed to have some. I'm nothing in the morning without my coffee. My Master knows me so well. After swallowing and licking my lips, I open my mouth as I was told.

"Remove my boxers."

With my mouth still agape, I've started to drool. But I cannot move to wipe my chin or it would displease Him, so I allow it to fall down my chin, onto my chest. I lean forward very slowly and gently tug His boxers to the floor. I then lean back into position, every cell of my being focused on the same goal; not spilling a single drop of coffee. Damn, this is really fucking hard. I panic every time I feel it wobbling...I don't think I can do this. But I will try. For Him I will try anything.

He takes a step closer...I can smell His skin. He gently takes my face in His hands. My mouth is open, waiting for him. I know what's coming and I couldn't be happier; I love pleasing my Master with my mouth. He places only the tip of His sweet cock in my mouth and says:

"Suck."

I happily oblige, closing my lips around Him and sucking gently. I use my tongue as an added sensation; flicking it across the tip, teasing Him. I hear Him gasp as He says in a low, shuddering voice:

"Fuck, your mouth is so hot. Now do you know why I made you hold the coffee, whore?"

"Yes, Master." I say, attempting to speak around His dick.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

I hear him laugh gently, and although I won't allow my exterior to show it, I relish the moment. I love making Him laugh; it is one of my few powers as His slave. I would never wish to take away my Master's power, but I do love seeing Him break his cold exterior and smile during play. It warms my heart.

The moment has passed and He's not smiling anymore. I tell myself to get serious and focus – the children could wake any moment and I haven't made my Master cum yet. I lean forward as much as I dare, attempting to taste as much of Him as I possibly can. As another inch of Him slides through my lips, I begin to alternate sucking and licking, in the way I know drives Him crazy.

With each slurping sound He moves closer, blessing me with more precious inches. I eagerly take them into my mouth and suck my Master's cock with as much creativity as I can muster with this damn mug on my head. God, I would love to be able to twist my mouth and neck right now, to really give it my all. I don't like this movement restriction...it's such an agonizing punishment. I can only taste what my Master gives me and nothing more. I can't please Him the way I want to. He must see the annoyance on my face.

"You don't like this, do you?"

He pulls away from my mouth so I can speak. "No, sir. It's not enough."

He slowly pushes back into my mouth. "It's enough for me, and that's all that should matter. Now be still, my little whore. Remember not to spill."

He begins slowly fucking my face...agonizingly slow. I can tell my Master enjoys it, so I relax my throat and prepare for what I know is coming. He groans...oh god He's close. I want so desperately to reach out and fondle His balls, to clench His ass with my hands, digging my nails into His flesh and feeling Him reaching climax. But I can only let Him use my holes as he pleases, and right now it's my mouth he's after.

I see the muscles in His legs tense; He's close. I can't fucking wait, I love the taste of my Master's cum. I'm excited now, I can't wait to receive His gift. I can feel my nipples harden as I get more and more eager. His breathing is faster now. It's coming any second...please, please, I need this. I need to make Him happy; I need to know He is satisfied.

With one last agonizingly slow push into my mouth, He begins to cum. I lean forward very carefully, aiming to catch it in my throat the way He likes me to. The mug is wobbling on my head; I freeze in place, hoping to steady it. Master groans and finishes, shooting his load into my throat. I love the sensation of His cum dripping down my throat – I swallow it happily as I feel His cock going limp on my tongue.

He draws away from me; His dick falling from my lips, dripping with drool. I swallow once again and clear my throat while licking my lips. I can still feel the mug on my head, but no hot liquid. Is it possible I actually succeeded? Did I please my Master with my performance? I wait, still kneeling, completely still. Fuck; now that I'm not distracted by any longer, I realize that my knees are really starting to hurt. Shit, my feet are asleep too. I feel the mug lifted off my head and feel relief at the fact that I no longer have to balance it.

"Good girl. You didn't spill a drop. You can stand now."

I struggle to stand with pins and needles shooting through my feet. I try my best to be graceful but I stumble a bit. As I start to fall, a firm and strong hand catches me around the waist. He then blesses me with a sweet and tender kiss with His soft, delicious lips.

"I will always catch you when you fall."

"Thank you, Master." I say with a big grin.

"Now wash down that cum with some coffee and go get ready for work."

He touches my cheek tenderly, then hands me my still hot coffee. I take a big sip and swallow, once again warmed by the feeling. Now this is the proper way to start a day. I go to leave the kitchen, but He steps in my way. I look up at Him, curious.

"Before you go, you need to do one more thing. Pick up the spoon you made me drop."

Of course, the spoon. The one that brought me so much pleasure, the one I got taken away from me by enjoying it too much. I walk over to where it is on the floor and bend to pick it up. He stops me by speaking 5 beautiful words:

"No. With your mouth, slave."

I smile and get on my hands and knees, retrieving the spoon with my teeth. I stand and walk over to my Master, who takes it from my mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Now you may go."

He smacks my ass playfully and turns to get a mug for himself. As I go to leave the kitchen, I look over my shoulder to get one last glance at my beautiful Master. He's standing there, smiling, sipping his coffee, looking out the window. I hear a tiny chuckle and see Him shake His head. I smile widely – He's pleased. I can walk away now, knowing I've satisfied Him.

I sigh happily. I love my Master, I would be nothing without Him. I don't know if I could get through a single day without His presence. But there is one thing I do know, with a strong certainty - I'll never look at coffee the same again.