My Brown Sugar Domme

"My slave doesn't like his new name?" she asked, faking a sort of soothing concern. "Oh, come on," she continued, speaking in a sticky sweet voice and stroking my cheek, "it's all in fun, little slave. In time you'll come to love hearing me call you... 'Come here, Assface, I have a chore for you!' Doesn't that sound perfect? I just know you'll come to WANT me to say it. So let your Princess have her fun... especially since you have no choice in the matter, anyway." Her eyes bored into mine, again daring me to say something wrong.

If I'd said I didn't care for it, I have a feeling Tawny would've given me three seconds to change my mind, or my lily white ass would be out the door. Or at least I'd be in the doghouse - perhaps literally - for months. What was the point in that? Besides, I was her slave, her sub, her plaything. After all the other verbal abuse and humiliations, what's in a name? So, I smiled and nodded and said, "I think it's a fine name, Princess. Perfect, as you say."

"Wonderful!" she said, almost clapping her hands with glee. "Then you are 'Assface' for the time being, in honor of the incredible ass-licking you just gave me. 'Assface' it is!" Obviously, she enjoyed saying it over and over again. After all, humiliation was Tawny's strong suit. It made her feel powerful. And, what the hell, I wanted her to have that.

Tawny laid back down on the bed, smiling happily at the ceiling. "Hmm," she mused, "I guess I'm sticky all over again. So much for my bath. Well, Assface, you're going to have to give me another bath. This time, no funny business. If I sit on your face again, I'm just going to get all sticky and need yet ANOTHER bath. So don't expect me to feed you any more pussy, okay? I need a serious bath now. Let's go, hop to it."

I was exhausted as I headed for the bathroom for a new washcloth and towel. Tawny went up ahead of me, waiting for her slave to bathe her. As I ascended the steps, she was already moving ahead to my itinerary following her bath. "And after my bath, I'm going to need some serious sleep. A two hour nap should do. After you dry me, I'll lie down and you can massage me from head to toe until I drift off. Then, when I'm asleep, set the clock for two hours. Got that?"

"Yes, Princess."

"And when I fall asleep, you can curl up at my feet and nap there until the alarm goes off. Don't try to sneak kisses or licks on my feet, though. That'll just wake me up and piss me off. I know the bottoms of my feet will be a great temptation for a foot hound slave boy like you, but resist the temptation... or else. Got that?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Or would you rather sleep with your face in my ass? You do seem to like either the smell or the taste of it... or probably both." She laughed, slapping her knees. Not waiting for a reply, she added with a touch of cruelty, "I'm just joking. Having your face in my ass would keep me awake, too. And I do need some rest. I just thought that since you're such an ass hound now, you might be more comfortable with your lips near my cute little asshole. I mean, your name being 'Assface' and all." She was howling, her head reared back with her raucous appreciation of her own humor. I just smiled and blushed. Then, one final jab from the Princess, rubbing in my embarrassment. "Wait, let me be sure on this, slave. You DO just LOVE me calling you Assface, don't you? Don't you, my little Assface?"

"Yes, of course, Princess." What was the use in saying anything else? I'd made my bed, and now it was time to sleep in it.

"Good. I just want to make sure you really do like the name. So, seriously, while I'm sleeping you just stay curled up at my feet until I'm ready to put you to good use again. Understood?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Then, when I wake up," she went on, "we'll discuss our new living arrangements and such. I can't be bothered carrying on a long distance relationship with my slave. That would be WAY too inconvenient. I need constant attention. And I'm sure you want to be my live in slave, don't you, my little Assface?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Of course you do. You know where you belong... and who you belong to. So, have you got all that? Bath, massage, sleep, curling at my feet, planning out the rest of your life. You've got all that stored in your little slave boy memory?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Good, then get started. I'm really exhausted. Four orgasms has that effect on me."

"Yes, Princess."

I bathed her and dried her all over again, then massaged her for about a half hour before she drifted off to sleep. While she sighed her plans for me to the Sandman, I curled obediently at her feet. She was right, I did long to kiss her feet and tell her how much I adored her. But, I'd have to do that another time. With a wry smile, I wondered what hell there'd be to pay if she awoke and found me anywhere other than at her feet where she'd ordered me to be. I didn't think it would be pretty.

In looking back, I wish I had a single dollar for every time I've subsequently replied to Tawny with the phrase "Yes, Princess" in compliance with her wishes, whims or commands. I'd be not only retired, but wealthy and living in a mansion somewhere. Or, rather, WE would be in a mansion somewhere... as Tawny and I have now been married for almost twenty years. She is aging ever so gracefully, moreso than myself, I think. But every tiny wrinkle seems to my eyes to only improve her luscious appeal, making her more lovely and seductive than ever. My love for her, my lust for her, my obedience to her, have neither diminished nor wavered in those almost two decades of time. Each day I get to serve her, I feel luckier than the last. I don't need pride. I have a Princess to worship for all time. What could be more rewarding than that?

God, I hope Tawny never tires of me. What would I do without my brown sugar Domme to serve and worship? What WOULD I do? Lord help me, I hope I never have to find out.

End

"My Brown Sugar Domme" copyright Bacomicfan/Mike, 2006