The Diligent Slave

The slave had been ordered, by his owner, to book a sumptuous hotel room. The chosen location was private, remote and most respectable. The slave felt the twinges of anticipation at being able to feel the overwhelming presence and power of her once more. As early in the day as was permissible by the hotel booking the slave entered the suite and breathed a sigh of relief just hoping that his choice would please her and she would be lenient with him.

The hotel maids had done quite a good job of cleaning the room but immediately the slave set about making things just right for his owner's arrival. He pulled the sheets back from the bed and remade it ensuring that there were no creases or kinks in the crisp white cotton bedding. The large king sized bed was comfortable and high up from the ground. She liked it this way. A large sweeping cast iron headboard was the crowning glory and the slave swathed each end of the headboard with two long black silk scarves. She would require these later, no doubt.

Opening the curtains the slave stood for a while taking in the wonderful view. He knew he would be allowed no such privilege later this evening when she finally arrived. Rain drizzled down outside and he hoped that she would drive carefully in the poor conditions. If only she would allow him to drive her. But, alas, this was a dream. She was far too independent for such a thing, or so he supposed.

Having straightened the covers on the bed the slave immediately moved onto presenting the room as he hoped she would approve. He removed a small bud-vase from his bag and collected some water from the large en-suite bathroom. He then trimmed the stem of the single rose which he had bought in order to show his appreciation of his owner. He wiped the droplets of escaped water from the base of the vase and placed it on the unit to the left hand side of the bed. This is the side that he knows she will sleep - if she decided to stay at the hotel all night, of course. He hoped that the careful positioning of the rose would allow its delicate aroma to please her as she woke in the morning.

Having hours of time to fill yet feeling tired from his journey and yearning anticipation at his owner's arrival the slave busied himself about the room. The large armchair must be moved into a more advantageous position. She would, undoubtedly, want to sit there at some point. The mirror on the dressing table was tilted to just the right angle for her to be able to observe herself if she so wished. The rug was not symmetrically positioned to the side of the bed and he moved it with precision.

Then, with the room being about as perfect as he could make it, the slave turned his attentions to himself. He moved into the bathroom and emptied out some contents from his leather hold-all. He had already preened and buffed his body for her arrival but must ensure that he did not have a hair out of place. He placed his items tidily on the side and moved back into the bedroom with his bag.

Reaching inside he found a long black robe which she always demanded he presented for her to wear if she saw fit. It was a long and flowing item which shimmered in the light. Hoping she would decide to wear this garment this evening the slave found a hanger and hooked it over he door of the wardrobe. The robe must be on show. She would certainly punish him if she believed he had forgotten it. He ached again at the thought of her. She filled his mind almost all of the time but on those few rare occasions when he was allowed to see her it filled him with an immense emotion he could not even begin to describe, even to himself.

Next he removed a black toiletry bag from his hold-all. This contained all the items that his owner had regularly used on him. He was never to be apart from this small collection of items. She may request action at anytime, even remotely and he must be prepared to respond accordingly to remain in her favour. The ultimate fear of being entirely rejected and eternally ignored by this magnificent woman filled him with such deep dread, as it had done so many times in the past. Life would not be the same without her, without her power, dominance and sexuality.

Next, he removed a larger bag which was heavy and cumbersome. Knowing the contents of this bag he placed it on the side unit and moved away from it quickly. She had ordered that he was never allowed to open this bag, despite him being placed in charge of it at all times. Thoughts of the items in this bag filled him with anticipation, arousal, fear and dread all in one pool of feelings which always made his head rush.

Finally he pulled a small piece of carpet which formed a small round black rug. This was his slave mat and he had come to adore it as much as his owner. He straightened the edges of the rug and placed it centrally in the free floor space in the room.

Carefully the empty hold-all was hidden in the bottom of the wardrobe and the slave checked the time by his watch. Only 2 hours to go until her arrival. A lump suddenly rose in his throat. His heart started to race and he felt his cock eager to rise in his jeans. This was strictly forbidden and he must remember that his own arousal was only permitted with the consent of his owner. Even now, all this time later, it was still almost impossible for him to contain his own baser instincts. He tried the familiar approach of thinking about anything else.

Moving into the bathroom he ran a bath and emptied a few drops of soothing patchouli oil into the water. She loved this scent and he hoped that if she were to smell it on him again that she would be pleased with him.

Having quickly shaved and cleaned the bathroom sink of any trace of his almost invisible stubble the slave quickly undressed and slid into the water. The scent of the oil filled his nostrils and his cock instantly flexed in arousal in her honour. Warm water enveloped his body as he slid down even more allowing his head to slip under the surface. For a split second which seemed like hours he held his head under the water. Remembering previous experiences and the overwhelming power of her he felt his cock twitch again. Perhaps this evening she may even let him touch her again. Luck would have to be on his side tonight.

Bursting through the water and taking in a deep breath he felt a rush of his senses and looked down at his cock. This part of his body was the sole reason for his servitude to this woman. She controlled him through the urges and compulsions of his own man-hood. In time gone by he had been aroused by many other women for many different reasons. Following a chance meeting with this woman and the time that had since passed between them, he had eventually given over his sex and his own gratification to her, his owner. She had taught him how to control his urges for others, how to have mind blowing orgasms at her request and how to pleasure not only himself but first and foremost, her. She owned him now. This cock before him, this thing, twitching at the merest thought of her through the water in the bath, belonged to her, his owner, his Goddess.