My Duty A Short Ass Worship Story

I began to look around slowly, trying to focus on anything to help keep my mind off the trembling, shivering body. My owner's house was always kept on the cold side, and my naked, thin, and hairless body wasn't doing me any favors. Admittedly, anticipation, fear, and nervousness were likely contributing to the chill making its way up my spine, as well. I did my best to remain still, in spite of this, as my owner demanded discipline and obedience at all times. Being in this position, on my knees with my back straight and my arms bound behind my lower back was more than uncomfortable however, and I constantly felt the urge to roll into a ball and warm myself. The cold steel handcuffs keeping my wrists bound chafed and chilled, most likely hand-selected to make me suffer further.

Almost a contrast to my cold suffering, my owner's bedroom seemed almost warm and inviting. Her large canopy bed was covered in a beautiful red silk comforter, meticulously kept made and clean by me, her personal slave attendant. The ornate curtains covering her windows were closed, and the overhead light relatively dim, giving the room a cozy and warm feel. A large flowing dress hung near the bed, and with luck I would have the honor of helping her into it later, assuming I did not find myself locked in the cage in the corner for disappointing her.

My mind slowly returned to my situation, however, and my nervousness became worse. I looked up and to my left, taking in the long chain locked on a hook about four feet above me, hung next to the door to the large master bathroom. On the other end, the chain connected to a tight pink, and also locked, collar around my neck. While the handcuffs physically bound me, the chain almost served as a symbol of my slavery. Before entering the bathroom, my owner had nonchalantly dragged me over here and locked my chain to this hook, like one would lock a dog's leash to a post before entering a store or restaurant. I blushed thinking about this, humiliated and realizing how truly low I was.

My thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of flowing water, and then heavy footsteps on the tile in the bathroom behind the door. It swung open, and my owner, my Mistress, emerged. She was still wearing her nightgown, her large pear-shaped body visible through the relatively clear fabric. She was a large woman, a Goddess in my eyes, and her very presence controlled the room as she entered. She turned to face me, and I, as trained, averted my eyes from her gaze and looked down at the floor before speaking.

"Good morning, Mistress. How might this humble slave serve you?" I asked, speaking as meekly as possible.

Without a word, she unhooked my chain from the spot near the door, and dragged me towards the corner of the room. She was a powerful woman, and with my arms still bound, I was at her whims as she did so. With her eyes no longer fixed on me, I stared in adoration at the beautiful view I was now able to take in. Her large gorgeous ass bounced with each deliberate step, carried by thick smooth thighs. Her gown flowed and rippled over them, accentuating them as she walked. Despite the pain and humiliation of being dragged like this, it was truly an honor to be able to see this. My small cock twitched in excitement in spite of my fear, but was held in place by the cold metal chastity cage I was required to wear at all times.

Before long, my Mistress had reached her destination. Before me, next to my punishment cage, was a wooden box. It was around three feet tall, painted black, with an open front. Inside the box were some leather straps to bind an unlucky slave's head in place, and on top of the box was a luxurious purple leather seat, complete with a hole, resulting in it largely resembling a fancy toilet.

My Mistress unceremoniously forced me to the ground on my back, and slid me into the box. Before long, my head was strapped in, and there was no escape. The darkness of the box was contrasted with the warm light through the toilet seat above me. That light did not last long, however. My Mistress lifted her night gown, and began to lower her large ass onto the seat. I could see her take out her phone and begin to browse Instagram as she did so. She truly did think of me as nothing more than another piece of furniture in her home.

As her ass reached the seat, the box grew dim. My Mistress' wonderful smooth cheeks were spread, and her tiny pink asshole was visible, although barely, in the darkness. Suddenly, the last of the light vanished as she lowered a cloth flap over the side of the box I slid into, and the leather straps began to lift me into her ass. Admittedly, in spite of my training, fear washed over me, and I struggled a bit in my panic. To make matters worse, the strong aroma of my Mistress' ass grew, the air trapped in the box by the cloth seal.

Each morning, my Mistress uses the bathroom to answer the call of nature. While she does a cursory job of cleaning herself afterwards, due to her large size and her personal desires, she likes a bidet to give her a deep cleaning afterwards. She has been training me to be that bidet. I did not expect any of this when entering her service, and certainly would not have agreed to it, but I belong to her now, and I have no rights or ability to contest the matter.

As my face became buried in her warm supple ass cheeks, my Mistress yanked twice on my chain, still in her left hand. This was my signal to begin cleaning. With great reluctance, I stuck out my tongue and slowly pressed it against her cheek. Opening my mouth let more of the strong aroma in, and my senses were overwhelmed with hot tangy sweat, likely a result of a long night of sleeping under her heavy comforter. I did my best to suppress my reaction, like a good bidet, and began to lick her clean. The texture on my tongue was rogue and grainy in spite of her cheeks generally feeling smooth, likely from her salty sweat. She tugged harder on the leash, and I began to lap at her cheeks quickly to prevent any further impatience from her. Displeasing my Mistress was always ill-advised.

My mouth began to fill with the taste of her ass, and my tongue made its way to her asshole. As I began to probe and clean gently, the salty taste became metallic and bitter. My Mistress let out a sigh, perhaps in relief or pleasure, as my tongue gently pushed its way in. She took great pride in her cleanliness, and I needed to be as thorough as possible.

As my tongue slid deeper inside her tight asshole, I felt my Mistress lean back, and her breathing grew deeper. The taste in my mouth grew stronger, and I did my best to remain focused on my duty. I began to probe deeper, my face now drenched my in own saliva, sliding against her warm cheeks. My breathing grew more labored, as my nose was still pressed in her ass, and the box was still sealed. I knew I had to finish my job before the air situation grew much worse.

In order to please my Mistress, I began to sliding my tongue in and out of her asshole. It grew more accepting with each light thrust, and I felt her pull harder on my chain, an indicator to keep doing this. Her right hand moved down to her crotch, and she began to pleasure herself as I penetrated her ass with my slave tongue. My jaw ached as I went harder, faster, and deeper. My Mistress' body began to writhe in pleasure, and her large body began to fuck back, pressing against my tongue. Her breathing grew more and more rapid, and before long she had yanked the chain so hard that my face was flush against her body, my tongue as deep as humanly possible in her asshole.

I felt her muscles grip my tongue suddenly, as my Mistress reached climax. She quivered and let out a large moan that nearly thundered within the box. I felt her asshole grip my tongue harder, and suddenly release as she relaxed. She let out another sigh, and in a final humiliation, I felt a burst of hot air escape her ass, a mere quarter inch from my face. It was accompanied by a large rippling sound, and a light giggle. The air became hot and foul, far worse than before, as I stifled a gag. I knew this could happen, especially after such an intense orgasm, but it did not change just how pathetic and humiliated it made me feel.

Without a word, my Mistress stood up, and quickly lowered the toilet seat above me, most certainly to make sure the air remained trapped. I heard her large, heavy body saunter away towards the bathroom, most likely to begin her morning shower. She had completely ignored me, leaving me sweaty and filthy, marinating in the hot heavy air of the box.