I kneel. I always kneel before you. You are my Master. I welcome you home from work as you enter the door. I am waiting and have been for some time. I don't want to be missing as you enter the house. I want to prove my worth, as I do every day.
You are here.
As you enter you close the door behind you. Dropping your trousers for your daily welcome home. It's a routine I am ready for. You are already hard and your skin musky with heat. You like me to taste you straight from work. No washing or preparation. You tell me it is my treat, you are giving of yourself and I should be grateful.
I never raise my eyes in your presence. I am not a submissive, I am a slave. I am locked by you. I wear your collar. I am always naked in your presence. It is a sign of my slavery. I live to serve you. It was my choice and I know others will not understand. I crave the loss of control and not having to think for myself. You care for me. You are in total control. That is your love.
Tough love.
Your hands stroke my hair and I know the next move. Gasping with pain as you pull my hair into a tight knot around your fingers. I lick my lips and touch the tip of the tiny hole in the head of your hardness with my tongue. My eyes are locked onto yours. This is the only time I may do it, as it is your pleasure. To look into my eyes. You love my eyes but surrender your own pleasure to maintain my slavehood.
I look up at you as your cock enters my open mouth. I know how to take you now. My head is held still by your strong hand as you thrust gently but deeply. I have learnt. I must not react, I have practised. As you stare into my eyes I see yours glazing. I know deeper and harder thrusts are coming as your cock twitches with the surge of cum leave leaving your balls and travelling speedily towards my mouth. I am ready.
I taste it. The salty heat of it. I swallow. And as you withdraw, I cast down my eyes. And you release my hair with a careless toss.
I bow my head and you walk away, to rest after your hard labours.
