By sophiaslave dedicated to her Master, Brabazon
As morning sunlight filtered through the bedroom blinds, my slave still asleep, the chain attached to her ankle, I shook her gently awake.
She smiled, her face still a mask of sleepiness. She stretched, as she willed the lingering sleep to vanish, running a hand through her dark curly hair.
"It's going to be a big day for you, beloved one, so we need to get moving."
She looked at me, but was too well trained to ever question her Master. Depending on what was going to happen, sometimes I'd readily explain, but this particular morning that was not going to happen until just before departure time.
I unlocked the chain from the cuff, and rubbed her foot as the cuff was unfastened. As she did every morning, the ritual firmly established, she quickly went to the bathroom, into the oversized stall shower, sinking to her knees. I followed her, still naked as I'd slept, stood on the other side of the shower door and reached for my cock. Automatically, she raised her face, her tongue extended in wait for my first urination of the morning.
After I'd relieved myself and there was no doubt there would not be further sprays of golden fluid upon her, she begged permission to clean my cock. Still holding it in my hand I nodded, and she took into her mouth. Then as part of what is to happen every morning, she reached for the lips of her cunt, pulling them apart to give me the pleasure of watching her as her stream was released.
No matter how many times we did it this way, and it had been a long time, my heart never ceased to skip a beat as she knelt, body fluid flowing, her face and hair dripping with mine--the epitome of submission as I'd always hungered to have.
The first time I tied her to a tree to be whipped, I bent my head to kiss her before it began, she whispered, "Show me no mercy, Master, I am yours".
It was if she handed me the key to my Dominance, the darkest areas needing release--she, with her unfaltering submission, the key itself.
I stepped into the shower and turned on the jets. As she started to rise, I shook my head and my hands pressed down on hers. This was not necessarily part of the ritual, dependent on my mood. I was extraordinarily excited regarding what was to take place later, and desperately needed her mouth. As she sucked me with perfected technique, I guided her head. After she swallowed my cum, as usual, we lathered each other down, the warm jet spray pelting us as I passionately kissed her mouth.
Wearing thick terry robes, I sat at the table as she prepared breakfast, serving my food without setting a place for herself.
