boy

"Come, boy."

he turned from the sink, wiping his hands on the bright white dish towel, dutiful servant. he wore a white apron with a bib and ruffle and nothing more, save the 2" black pumps and Aneros insertable that nobody would know was there unless they watched his face battling to stay focused from the chronic stimulation, knowing he would be punished if he dared give in to the pleasure.

his expression as he turned, what can I say? It was beatific. Taller than Me by five inches if we each are barefoot, this evening, I equalized a bit by wearing six inch platform patent leather strap-ins, making the difference only marginal. he came to Me, knelt, legs spread, palms up on his nicely developed thighs.

"Worship."

he carefully unzipped My black spandex pants, not knowing what he would find. he gasped in a ragged breath as he extracted My perpetually turgid favorite black cock. his hands went immediately behind his back, and Mine to his head as he opened his mouth wide to take Me in. I held fast, letting him have a moment to adjust, to lubricate My rod before forcing Myself through his throat sphincter.

"That's it, pretty, make Mistress happy. Mmm, take Me..." Pushing his lips all the way into My belly, rocking back and forth, knowing he could not breathe, right to the edge, and then letting him back off. I tilted his head up to see him, eyes watering, rich spit flowing from his lips to My phallus. his eyes shone, and I said, "you do please Me, boy. you worked very hard this week, I have a gift for you. Please do your obesiance and then come with Me." he wiped My phallus with his apron, kissed it, and zipped My pants, and said, "You honor me, Mistress. Thank You for allowing me to please You."

I turned and went down the hall to My bedroom and stopped at the door, blocking it. he began to kneel as I stood, but I stopped his descent, seeking his member under the apron. Fully erect, as I anticipated, I felt his girth and the heat emanating, and grinned evilly. I pulled him to Me for a kiss, finding his tongue, dancing, nibbling his lips. his hunger telegraphed itself to Me, yet his disciplined restraint never slipped.

I stepped away from the door and he saw the suit bag hanging in front of the closet sporting a large red bow. "Go ahead, pretty. Open it." I lounged on the edge of the bed and watched as he reached to unzip the bag, carefully folding back the cover to expose black silk. A jacket and slacks, with a cut that was distinctly different, soft almot cowl neck collar on the jacket, tucked in a bit at the waist. The dense lush black of fine silk, with silk lining, a deep forest green.

"Please take special note of the construction of the trousers, boy." The slacks also exquisitely tailored, made for his long frame, with one delightful difference: the zipper in the fly did not end, but went the entire length of the seam, so that a devilish Mistress who desired access could unzip from the back, taking Her boy in all manner of opportune and inopportune occasions. He found the odd construction and immediately turned bright red.

I laughed and said, "The rest is here, boy," pointing to the boxes on the bed. The look on his face was worth the expense. He knelt next to the bed and opened the box with the shirt, pure white, soft deep cuffs, soft collar again, form fitting.

The shoes, of course, were men's opera pumps, naturally, with a heel slightly higher than was traditional. Soft black patent.

"Mistress, if i may?" "Speak."

"It is beautiful. It is a men's suit but....not. Softer, feminine, but not so that..."

he struggled for words and I interjected, "It is a suit sewn for a proud submissive boy, My dear. you deserve it. your obedience and fealty do not go unnoticed. And, besides, I thought you might want something nice to wear when, with our friends around us, you formally accept this."

I handed him one last box, smaller than the rest, keeping his gaze for a long moment. Those eyes, reflecting back the love that I felt fiercely, My boy, dear slave.

he opened the wrapping, exposing a black velvet jewel box. Hands shaking, he opened the box to expose an antique white gold finely worked thin torque, with an emerald in the middle and a clasp that made the piece a solid collar.

he touched the torque and brushed away a tear. I let the moments pass in silence. he moved so that he knelt directly in front of Me not looking up, tears flowing now, shoulder shaking. Such a sweet moment, this, the fruition of much time passing, challenges faced, many victories, some losses. And here we were, a question in My heart, an answer in his.

he took a deep, deep breath, wiped his eyes and looked at Me, started to speak, then stopped. Started and stopped. I smiled at him, took his face gently, and pulled him to Me, enveloping him. I felt his strength and his openness, his vulnerability. I reflected briefly on the warp and weave of our lives and thought about how his service made the fabric of My life unspeakably richer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he whispered. Clearing his throat, louder, more steady, "Yes, Mistress, i will humbly and so proudly do this thing you ask, all of it, kneel before you surrounded by our friends and accept this beautiful collar. Yes!"