Accomplished Submission

My vision clouds as I imagine my own image. A snapshot in my mind of myself preparing for Master's return home from work... how He likes to have His brandy or His scotch ready. How He requires the house to look tidy and clean by my own hand. How He demands that my positioning be just so as He walks through the front door.

Today, it shall be brandy as Master requested before leaving this morning. I arrange the snifter on the tray, with the right amount of amber liquid breathing in the brandy glass, the carafe sitting next to it for any refill, should He want one. Also on the tray, arranged carefully, is His favorite leather-tipped crop, a small crystal bowl filled with scented oil, and various clamps and clips. Master doesn't always use these items, but should I forget to offer them upon his arrival, it would mean punishment for me. The tray arranged to specifications, I place it on the floor, next to where I will be waiting when He walks in the door. I turn, wearing only my white lace apron, and make a circuit of the house, ensuring that all is in place. I note how the shine of the coffee table reflects a splash of light coming in through the shear curtains, remembering how I polished the wood using an oiled cloth while completely naked except for the intrusion of the plug inserted inside of me by Master this morning. Using a swirling motion as I polish and wipe down all furniture that is wooden. Making sure our house is beautiful.

I wander into the kitchen, smelling the roast with potatoes and carrots simmering in the electric skillet, smiling as it is Master's favorite meal. I take the tray of homemade biscuits and open the oven door, feeling the heat escape and wash over my bare, pink-tipped breasts and belly, sliding the tray in and setting the timer as I close the oven door. Putting the pot-holder away, I leave the kitchen, my ass swaying with each step, feet bare for now until Master comes home, and amble into the dining room, checking how the table is set. I lift the matchbook and light the candles sitting there within the flower arrangement picked by me in our garden early this morning. I smile remembering how chilly it was today with my bare feet on the dew-tipped grass, my nipples puckering in the cool air, making my way to the flower garden and using pruning shears to choose and pick the perfect buds and blooming roses. As I stacked them in my arms, I could feel their prickly thorns poking into my bare skin, one directly on my areola. Reaching for the last yellow bud, I happen to glance up and spot old Mister Carson in the next yard up on his sundeck, watching me while I work, and quickly turning away to walk back into his house. It embarrasses me that Master makes me perform these chores completely nude and I am caught doing so by Mr. Carson or, one time, the UPS delivery man. However, the choice is not mine to make. I must trust Master to guide me (hand reaching up to finger the silver choker around my neck).

I leave the dining room, making my way back into the entry way, looking over at the grandfather clock in the hall and note that Master shall be here any minute now. I go to the broom closet and wash my feet, dry them, and insert them into my three inch black heels. Master's choice. I return to the breathing snifter of brandy and kneel on the floor, ass on my heels, thighs opened as wide as I can, hands behind my back, wrists crossed, head bowed, mind open.

I don't have to wait long before I hear Master's car and the hum of the automatic garage door opener. Master prefers to leave the garage from the outside, coming in the front door after pressing the down button on the garage door. I face the front door, chin up, eyes downcast, tongue protruding slightly, and await His scrutiny.

I am always amazed at my reaction to Master's appearance when He comes through the door. He is a fit man, tall, dark with intense green eyes that immediately rest upon me and take me in. He drops his paper on the settee, reaches for the leash sitting on the shelf by the door, and begins to walk toward me. His presence makes my heartbeat increase, my palms sweaty, and my pussy spasm with controlled pleasure. Master stands in front of me and reaches to my collar, snaps on the leash, giving it a gentle tug, and say's "Ahhh, my sweet slut, I need you this day... work was hell" as He begins to loosen His tie at the collar and tug and pull out his shirt from His trousers. With His one hand, He releases His belt. My eyes remain downcast, and I hear the jingle of His belt buckle, then the release of His button, zipper, and the sound of clothing being maneuvered around. I feel a tug on my leash and move my eyes up to His groin... His cock now sits there in front of my opened mouth. My collar is pulled on gently as He brings my mouth closer to the tip of His cock and I can feel the heat of Him there. I anticipate tasting His beautiful cock, my tongue wet and ready, when I feel the heat move away.

"This day, slave, I want all your senses alive..." and I feel Him place a blindfold over my head, the band tightening, and the leash again taken up and pulled upon. The heat is there... His cockhead is there, now turgid and full, and finally I taste Him... hot with a bead of moisture at His cock tip. I lick His cockhead clean, moistening the tip and sucking upon Him gently. I know to suck what is only allowed, what Master feeds me at His own pace. He offers me only His cockhead, the tip so soft on the outside, the edges rounded and rigid with unreleased passion. My lips close upon it as I inhale His musky scent, a smell I'd recognize anywhere as Master's own lovely odor. My lips suckle and feed upon His purple mushroom, lathing the underside with care, sliding my tongue back into my mouth from the underside, swirling it around, feeling Him feed me another few centimeters. I moisten what He gives me, suckling, tasting, teasing, worshiping with my mouth. Master groans above me, murmuring "Ah yes, pet, use your magic tongue to please your Master."

Master pulls out of my mouth and I feel His cock spring up and out of my reach. "Slave, suck My balls... one by one... into your mouth. Wash them with your saliva." Dropping my head a bit, using my nose for a compass, I feel Master's short hairs tickle my nose, then my tongue as I bring one of His large testicles into my opened mouth. My tongue runs around it gently, bathing it in my secretions, popping it out and sucking the other in, giving it the attention of the other. I begin to lick around Master's balls, catching little hairs in my closed lips and tugging gently, feeling His sack scrunch up and hearing Him exhale in sweet exctasy. I blow cool air upon the wet sack, the little hairs blowing gently. "Now slowly kiss up My shaft, my eager slut, make Me wet and ready to fuck you."

I begin to use my swollen lips to kiss and lick up Master's shaft, feeling Him spasm and jump in my mouth... catching His cock shaft and sucking on it gently at the underside, traveling up the shaft to His tip again, and at His "Yes" I catch His head in my mouth again. "Fuck My cock, slave", and I begin to bob my head upon Master's cock, taking His head and His shaft in as far as I can, then sucking as I withdraw, my cheeks hollowing, my tongue swirling and wetting. Immediately I sink down again on His cock, feeling His head hit the back of my throat, and withdrawing. In my mouth again, further this time, a tear escaping out of my eye at the control needed to fight my gag, and withdrawing. Deeper this time, holding my breath as my throat is impaled upon Master's cock, nose buried in His patch of hair, spasms in my throat that cause me agony, but cause Him excrutiating pleasure, and I withdraw again. I stay at His cockhead to take a few breaths and feel Master's hand at my head shoving my mouth down on His cock, throat impaled again, stuffed with His thickening cock, unable to breathe, but not daring to move as Master leaves His cock in my mouth, my throat spasming around it. "Ahhhhh yessss my slave, hold it there" my eyes watering, my face turning red with pressure until finally Master releases me for a brief, fast withdraw before He shoves Himself down my throat again, establishing a rhythm now. He is moaning with undisguised desire as He pleases Himself by using my mouth. I learn to take short quick breaths on the withdraw as He fucks my mouth harder, faster, deeper.

I feel the telltale signs of His impending orgasm... the excess heat, the increased thickening, the bulging and raging stiffness of His cockhead, the pre-cum as it seeps out on my tongue assiting in my own lubrication and I know to take a deep breath of air as Master shoves His steel rod down my throat all the way and leaves it there as He begins to cum. My tongue at the back of His cock can feel the waves of sperm as they begin to travel up His shaft, the first one exploding down the back of my throat, not even tasted by me before the second and third and uncounted more begin to fill up the pockets of my cheeks, the areas in my mouth now filling with hot, salty cum as His orgasm wracks His body, emptying Him of the day's stresses, and filling His slave with His gift, giving her His pentup frustrations knowing she accepts them willingly because that is who she is.

Master begins to soften in her mouth, His cockhead pulling away from her throat slowly, His hand pulling on her head to pull it out further and finally to release it from her mouth, white cum coating her lips, His cock shiny with His own seed. "Swallow, pet" He say's. And I do.

A picture sent to me by a Dominant inspired this story. To me, it epitomizes submission, yet I do not know if it is copyrighted or not and would not offer it without the author's permission.