06 - Rewards
Dear Reader,
I would like to express my thanks to you for enjoying that which I've put so much effort into. Despite the short length of each chapter, a tremendous amount of work goes into each one, both from me and from my editors, NaughtyPaladin and thegoofyproofyreader.
I would like to clarify a couple of things before we get into the swing of things again; this story, along with any other stories I put out, will have a definite conclusion to them. I can't promise any sort of regular upload schedule at this time, but I hope you'll bear with me as I produce more chapters. Additionally, I would like you to know that, while you might not see uploads for a while, it likely means there will be a big release of them when I finally do get them published. Patience deserves rewards :)
Ms. Mel
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"Are you sure, slut?" Jakob's question broke through the stunned silence at my announcement. I nodded; I'd told him I wanted to cuddle on the couch and watch a scary movie. He shook his head in bemusement. "Go make some popcorn and then you can come join me." He said as he stood and headed for the living room.
I practically skipped into the kitchen. I wasn't a fan of scary movies but, ever since he took me to one for our first date, I would never miss the opportunity to yelp and bury my face in his chest as some poor woman was hacked up on the screen. That wasn't why I asked to watch one, though. Well, okay, it was part of it. I also wanted to give Jakob the opportunity to step back into a "protector" role, if only for a little bit.
Ever since my revelation during his check-in, I had felt like a monster for not allowing him to be the caring, compassionate man I knew. He was forced into this hyper-dominant, aggressive, almost cruel role because it was the only way to get me to realize what a cunt I was being. Getting spoiled had made me self-centered and apathetic to the trials that others went through. Now, it felt like entirely new vistas of human emotion were open to me.
I wanted Jake to feel good, to be happy. Not because he was kind when he was happy; I knew his kindness was going to be very limited for the next two years. I wanted him to be happy simply because he was Jake. He had shown me nothing but love since the first time I gave him my attention, and now I was ready to make up for lost time.
I prepared the popcorn with lots of melted butter and salt, then came happily into the living room to see him sprawled out on the deep-seated couch, patting the open space in front of him. I laid down, scooting myself back into his warmth and offering the popcorn to him. He took a handful while scanning for something to watch, and eventually settled on a shark movie. This was particularly good for us, since his intimate relationship with deep water and my avid fear of it served to push us further into our roles of protector and protected.
By the time the movie was ten minutes in, I had rolled away from the television onto my other side. I kept myself pressed into the safety of his chest, only glancing back when I thought it was safe to do so. Still, I jumped whenever a sudden, loud sound startled me. He kept his arms wrapped around me, pinning my soft, full breasts against his chest.
When the leading couple shared a particularly steamy kiss, I felt one of Jake's hands drift slowly towards my plump ass. He stopped just above it, and I pulled myself up a bit to wiggle it right into his palm. He glanced at me, smiling briefly. I returned it with a flutter in my chest, feeling him start to stiffen. I slid a hand down his chest, across his stomach, over his trimmed bush to rest lightly on his cock. I raised an eyebrow in question, and he nodded with a slight hitch in his breath.
With a small, coy grin, I slipped from his arms and scooted down the couch. Jake rolled onto his back, but kept his gaze on the screen. For some reason, it gave me a thrill straight to my core that he was going to try to keep watching the movie. Like what I was going to do was the normal way to watch a film now.
I settled myself between his legs and inhaled his delectable scent through my slightly open mouth before placing the tip of his cock just inside. A shiver ran through me when I tasted him; as much as I loved Jake playing with, or pounding the hell out of, my pussy, there was some deep, inexplicable part of me that took just as much joy from sucking his dick and drinking his delicious cum. It didn't give me the release that I so often craved, but it satisfied the submissive part of me that seemed to be growing larger with every passing day in Jakob's care.
I slowly worked my way up and down the head of his cock, working slowly down to take more and more of him into my mouth. He twitched whenever I hit his particularly sensitive areas, and I moaned in satisfaction at the pleasure he took from my ministrations. I gently cupped his balls in one hand, rolling them over and massaging them while I worked his dick down towards my throat.
As I reached the bottom and wrapped my lips around it, I looked up to his face. He was no longer looking at the television, but was fixedly staring at the lewd performance I'd been giving. I gave him a slow wink, and felt him shiver beneath me. I held there for as long as I could before coming back up for air. Gasping as I separated from his length, I stroked it and stared at him.
"Would Sir like to fuck my throat?" I asked huskily, leaning down to kiss his cockhead. In response, Jake reached down and placed a hand on either side of my head. I moved my hands to brace myself on his thighs; I didn't want to impede his use of my mouth, but I had to keep my upper body raised a bit to provide a good angle for the imminent throatfucking.
He started out slow and gentle, making sure I was ready for it before picking up the pace. He worked himself into a frenzy, drawing obscene "Gluk! Gluk! Gluk!" sounds from me as he pulled my throat down around his dick repeatedly and forcefully. I tried my best to maintain my watery-eyed stare up into his emerald green eyes, but the constant pushing and pulling on my head made that difficult. He pulled out suddenly, letting me have a breather.
"Please, Sir. Give me your cum. Fuck that hot, sticky load into your little slut's eager mouth. Please give it to me, Sir!" I moved myself back down onto his cock, and he started using me again.
No gentleness or slow working up this time; he was driving hard towards his finish, and the primal part of his brain had taken over. He throatfucked me hard and fast for what felt like half the movie, but had really only been a few minutes. I loved every fucking second of it, and moaned in delight when I felt him seize before spilling his load all over my tongue. Most of the wives, when we'd talked about it, had said they found it incredibly bitter or salty, but Jake's seed was like an aphrodisiac to me; I loved the taste of it, and it just made me want more of him.
Once he recovered and looked down at me, I presented my prize to him and swallowed it. God, that made me feel so fucking sexy. If he hadn't taken care of me right before starting the movie, I don't think I would have had the restraint to not make a move myself. Instead, I just curled up into his arms again to bask in the pleasure of being so close to my Jake.
When the movie finally ended, I felt Jake squeeze me hard one last time before relaxing his embrace. I knew he wanted me to get up, but it was so damn hard to leave the comfort of this intimacy. It had only been a movie, but it was everything I wanted the training to lead to. Training I had yet to complete, and that I knew would take me further outside of my comfort zone before we came back to this. I felt the tears start to rise to my eyes again.
I fought them back. God, why was I such a mess? It was like... Oh. My. God. I had fucking conditioned myself to cry for someone else to fix my issues, and it WORKED. Jake couldn't stand to see me crying; his first reaction was always to immediately change whatever was upsetting me.
I couldn't let him see the tears anymore. Not unless they were genuine. I had already made this unfairly difficult for him by forcing him into the role he was filling. I stayed in his embrace until I was certain I could get away without him seeing anything, then I slid from the couch back onto my knees.
He sat up and looked at me. I could see it in his eyes: the searching, looking for any sign of my discomfort. Whether he found any or not, I didn't give him the opportunity to yield to my subconscious efforts to persuade him.
"Thank you very much, Sir. Your slut is very happy to have earned a measure of your affection." I spoke proudly, and it shocked me at how steady the slur was when it dropped from my lips. I had acted the slut, but now I was his slut alone. I was proud, too. Proud to be his. Proud I had figured out a portion of what was wrong with me. Proud I had, to some small degree, earned the love I once took for granted.
Jakob also seemed to take notice of the change, and he puzzled over me for so long, I began to think I'd done something wrong. When he finally did speak, it was with that same, cautioned restraint that I knew was trying to control his desire to give me everything I ever wanted. I couldn't believe such a generous and kind man would want anything to do with me, now that I knew exactly how horrible I was.
"Wait here, Sarah." He stood and left me in shock. He only used my name when he was overwhelmed, often with his cock buried in my pussy. What did this mean? Was my acceptance of being a slut all he was actually after?
Of course it wasn't. He returned with a large jewelry box that I hadn't seen before, grinning when he saw my confused expression. He sat back on the couch and gestured for me to join him. I slowly moved to sit next to him, and he opened the box to show me its contents. They were a collection of leather collars. They each had small studs wrapping around them, a metal tag sewn directly onto the front, and a buckle to secure it in the back. They were all different colors, as well.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the tags in the front each had a different title on it, presumably for me to earn. The one that belonged on me right now was the brown one, labeled "Slut" in stylized writing. There were four others; a black one with "Bitch, a red one with "Toy", a purple -- my favorite color -- one with "Pet", and a teal -- Jake's favorite color -- with "Darling". They were arranged in such a manner that "Slut" and "Darling" were on opposite sides, indicating the advancement between earned titles that he had mentioned.
"Do you like them?" He asked with an amused tone. He knew, of course, that it wasn't something I would have ever wanted to get into before. Now, however...
"Honestly, Sir, they're kind of hot." I admitted, a warmth beginning to grow within me at the thought of what he might like to do with me once I had my "Slut" collar on. He chuckled and reached into the box, withdrawing not the brown collar I expected, but rather the black one with "Bitch" on its tag.
"Sir?" I questioned.
He sighed, but kept his choice and closed the box before turning to me. "I am choosing to believe that the changes I've observed over the last few days are genuine. I had planned on giving you your first collar today, and I figured it would take you a few weeks for you to earn this one. There are certain criteria that must be fulfilled before each new collar is granted, but I am not going to disclose them to you until you have earned it."
"Thank you, Sir."
"You're welcome. I certainly hope I'm not jumping the gun with this, but I feel that you've been improving much faster than I anticipated. Not only that, but you seem to be much more motivated by carrots than sticks. That's not to say there won't ever be sticks; they are an important part of your discipline, and I am nothing if not thorough. For now, though, we'll continue with the carrot."
As he spoke, he collected my hair in one hand and held it above my head. Taking my cue from him, I grabbed the hair and allowed him to tighten the black collar around my throat. It was snug, but it wouldn't interfere with my ability to swallow or breathe. When he finished, I let my hair down and he sat back, enjoying the view.
"You're right, bitch. That collar is very hot, especially now that it's on you." I blushed, and I wasn't sure if it was from the use of this new title or from the compliment.
"Thank you, Sir."
"You have earned your new title for two reasons. The first is that you willingly, without instruction or resentment, adopted your old title for yourself despite hating it. The second is that you've acknowledged that this whole ordeal is not about revenge or humiliation for the sake of humiliation. It is about you finally earning something of your own merit, even if it's something you already know is yours. My love has always been yours, but I can see the hunger in your eyes that says you want to be someone that you think would deserve it.
"For those reasons, you may now set aside the title 'slut' in favor of your new one, 'bitch'. I think we both know that it is preferable to you." He gave me a cheshire grin, and I blushed deeply. "Bitch" was the first, and only, derogatory name I'd ever used while we were married. There was a time, when it was fresh and exciting, that I simply refused to be called anything but his 'little bitch'. That had waned with the novelty, but it never disappeared.
Why I'd gravitated towards that particular word was anybody's guess, but it always got me going fast. Still, I recognized that it was the lowest name in the box besides 'slut'. I might enjoy it, but I certainly wanted to earn the others as well. Each of them had meaning for us. We hadn't ever used 'Toy' before, but I had a hunch that it would entail even more surrendering of my own choices. 'Pet' was what he called me when we had experimented with a collar and leash before, but that had been a gentle, pleasure-based domination that still gave me the warm fuzzies when I thought about it. 'Darling', though, was what I wanted back. That's what he called me on a daily basis, when he was doting upon me and displaying his unending adoration.
I got back down on my knees before addressing him again. "Thank you very much, Sir. Your little bitch will do her best to be worthy of this title, and more." I pressed myself against his leg as I spoke, wanting to be near him.
"I expect nothing less, bitch." He said before standing up. "I have some paperwork to take care of, as well as an assessment to put together for D.O.C., so I will be in my office for the remainder of the afternoon. When the house is spotless, come see me."
I nodded vigorously at his instruction, and he stroked my hair once before striding away. When he was gone, I stood up to get to cleaning. We had never really discussed kneeling and standing, but I had inferred that while he was in the room, I should be kneeling unless performing a task that required otherwise.
While alone, I usually stood. My knees were becoming somewhat acclimated to being used more often, but they were still sore. Light bruises had popped up on them from where I knee-walked over something hard or set them down too vigorously as I crawled. I wasn't sure what Jake was going to do about those when it came time for my physical next week.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head and went to start in the master bedroom. The cleaning didn't take very long at all, since Jakob and I were both fairly neat people to begin with. I took it a step further today, however, and dusted every flat surface I could reach. Most of them were filthy. It was something I had never been able to convince him to take seriously. The one area of our marriage where I still knew hands-down that I was right.
With the dusting done, I walked into the hallway and stood in front of his office door. I knelt, then knocked. Upon hearing him call out for me to enter, I opened the door and crawled in. The office was exactly as I remembered it, except it had a shelf of books on the wall above his desk now. He turned around in his chair to face me as I entered.
"Are you all done, bitch?" He asked calmly.
I shook my head. "No, Sir. I have everything done, but I want to wash the windows as well, and I am concerned I'll be seen by the neighbors."
The brief expression of sternness at my "No, Sir." was instantly washed away with thoughtfulness. He considered me for a long moment before he spoke.
"Very well. You may dress in your bathrobe for long enough to clean the windows, then you are to report back to me."
"Thank you, Sir." I responded. "Is there anything else I can attend to, Sir?" I tried not to side-eye his crotch while I spoke, and failed miserably. The movie, the collars, the casual compliment; they had all left me surprisingly wanton for him.
He laughed. "Maybe after you finish the windows, if I think you've done a good job with everything."
I nodded and, when he'd turned back to the computer on his desk, crawled back out of the office and shut the door behind me. I wanted to hurry through cleaning the windows; my brief lapse in concentration in the office had gotten me positively soaked. I forced myself, through no small effort, to be as methodical as I was with the rest of the house, however.
It felt weirdly constrictive to wear the robe after being naked for a week straight. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was like wearing a pair of jeans a size too small, despite the billowy, loose nature of the robe itself. I debated trying to throw myself at him while cleaning the window in his office, but decided against it. I didn't think he'd appreciate me trying to interrupt his work. He rewarded me for my diligence with a soft slap and a lingering grasp on my ass when I crawled by him to leave.
Without even thinking, without meaning to, I let out a long, whorish moan at his touch. I scampered from the room, hearing his soft laughter behind me as I looked for another window to clean. I couldn't believe he'd been able to extract such a naughty sound from me with a simple slap on the ass. I must be even worse off than I thought I was.
I moved efficiently through the house, doing my best to get all the dirt and dust off the windows and their sills throughout the house. It took me over an hour to work my way across the house. I didn't even enter the master bathroom; the only window in there wasn't worth cleaning, since it was a frosted window and sat so high up on the wall.
When I finished with the windows, I hung the robe back up in the master bathroom and knelt at the office door. He had shut it himself after I fled. Embarrassed, I knocked lightly. He bid me to enter, and I crawled in to kneel behind his chair, my hands folded in my lap and my eyes downcast. He continued typing away on the keyboard for what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, before finally turning to face me. I raised my eyes to meet his.
"Are you all done now, bitch?" He asked with a smug grin. I was sure he'd been replaying that overly sexualized moan the entire time I'd been finishing up.
"Yes, Sir." I said, trying to fight the trance that his emerald irises always cast upon me. "I'm sorry for not shutting the door when I left."
"It's quite alright, my little bitch." A shiver ran down my spine, thrilling me in a way that was so good, it should be illegal. "You certainly seemed to have other things on your mind at the moment, and you were in quite a rush to finish your chores. I will forgive it, this time."
"Thank you, Sir." I said as the blush fought its way back onto my face. I forced myself not to ask the question. I dearly wanted him but, after that display, I found the idea of asking for it now to be utterly embarrassing. Surely I was able to hold myself together through a small pat on the butt. Surely that wasn't all it took to tip me over the edge of "aroused", straight into "wanton whore".
He said nothing, however. He just simply grinned down at me, enjoying my inner turmoil. I almost gave him my puppy dog eyes, but even those I managed to rein in. I realized, now, just how many of my mannerisms were actually manipulative behaviors masquerading as "defensive mechanisms". Fighting against the heat in my core, the desire to break the rules he'd laid out, and my own subconscious ability to play him for whatever I wanted, my strength deteriorated much faster than I would have liked to admit.
My subconscious broke first, but it only lost by a fraction of a second. A pitiful whine escaped my lips right before I tried to surreptitiously rub my thighs together to gain any measure of relief for the burning desire between my legs. His grin widened and broke into a full smile.
"I think we're in need of a change in the house rules, bitch." He said, his smile never faltering as he grabbed a pen and strode out of the office to the dining room, where the rules were still pinned to the wall over the dining table. He took the list down and began to modify it. I whimpered once, but managed to control my limbs.
When he was finished, he held the rules down for me to read.
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Rules of the House
1) The prisoner will respond not only to her name, but to any title given to her.
2) The prisoner will speak with respect, and always when spoken to.
3) The prisoner will address her jailer as "Sir".
4) The prisoner will only wear what is appropriate for one of her status.
5) The prisoner will keep every corner of the house in spotless condition.
6) The prisoner will cook all meals.
7) The prisoner will kneel when speaking with her jailer.
8) The prisoner will keep all holes ready for her jailer at all times.
9) The prisoner will always thank her jailer for punishments.
10) The prisoner will not cum without permission.
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It was a small change, but he had crossed out the word "only" in Rule 2 and replaced it with "always". Subtle, but with great importance; I could speak first now. With that restriction lifted, the rest of my defenses crumbled in record time.
"Please, Sir!" I immediately began begging him as I rubbed my thighs together again. "Please, give your little bitch your delicious cock, Sir!" I grasped at his leg, careful to avoid actually touching his package until given permission.
He laughed again and said, "Well, if I'm so lucky to have a bitch addicted to the taste of my cock, I certainly can't say no to that, can I? Come here, slide under the desk. You can enjoy your treat while I finish up."
He pulled the chair back and gestured under the desk. I took the hint and quickly shuffled under it, backwards. He stripped off his pants and boxers, freeing his thick dick before sitting down and scooting the chair in. As soon as he was in position, I took his half-hard cock and guided it into my mouth.
I moaned around his length and forced my hands to remain off of myself while coaxing him to rise to his full size. The scent was heady, overwhelming, and overtly masculine. I loved every single second of his musk filling my nostrils while I serviced him. I plunged to the base and cupped his balls, massaging them while my throat did the same to his head and the top of his shaft.
I pulled off briefly to ask him one question. "Sir, may I still enjoy your tasty cock until you're finished up there if I make you cum?"
"Yes, my little bitch. For now, it is yours. A reward for cleaning the house so well."
"Thank you very much, Sir." I said before sinking back onto his length. I worked him over voraciously, hungry for his first load. I alternated between deepthroating him with lewd sucking and slurping sounds and short, rapid bobs of my head along the top half of his cock while stroking the rest with my hand. When I banged my head on the desk, my eyes watered and I paused to readjust, going slower and lower to avoid it. Jake briefly leaned back to check on me and I just winked at him to let him know I was okay, and he went back to work.
Soon enough, I could feel him tense beneath me as the pleasure I provided him flooded his senses. I felt him lean back in the chair again and thrust up into my slutty mouth, so I sank it all the way to the base and swallowed repeatedly, massaging him with my throat. He groaned, long and low, as he emptied himself down my throat. I pulled up for his last few shots, making sure I got a good mouthful to show him. I savored the taste of his cum on my tongue for a moment; his spunk, for whatever reason, tasted so much better than the few others I'd had before we started dating.
"Thir!" I eventually mumbled around the load in my mouth. He scooted back a bit and glanced under the desk to see me with my mouth open wide, showcasing his spunk. I swallowed with exaggerated movements before showing him my now-empty mouth. "Aaah!" I gasped. "That was very tasty, Sir. I think I'd like another."
He chuckled and shook his head before sliding back in. Unfortunately, my antics had given his cock the chance to go soft. I licked all over his deflated shaft, careful to avoid giving too much stimulation to the head, as I knew it was especially sensitive after cumming. I peppered kisses all over his groin, moving my tongue's ministrations to his sack, and massaging each of his balls in my mouth in turn.
I wasn't hurrying or rushing him back to an erection. I could have gotten him ready a lot faster if I had really tried to. I was trying to convey, through my more muted ministrations, that I wasn't just trying to milk loads out of him. I wanted to care for him, as he cared for me. I wanted him to feel like royalty; a king among men. He'd always loved the slow, sensual moments between us, though they were often focused on me. Now that they were focused on him, I hoped he enjoyed it even more.
When he reached full mast, I didn't change my practices. I kept the languid pace, lavishing him with my mouth and tongue; I tried to make him understand that I was making love to him, not fulfilling my own desires, however rampant they might be. They just happened to be in line with our current activities. I coaxed him through another orgasm, and didn't let him go soft this time.
I kept up my efforts until he pulled back from the desk, apparently finished for the day. A small whine escaped my lips when his cock was withdrawn from me. He scooted back far enough for me to crawl out, and offered a hand in assistance. I took it and wiggled out from under the desk, where he drew me up to my feet before kissing me on the cheek.
"Jesus, Sarah." He said as he peered under the desk. I followed his gaze and saw, much to my embarrassment, an enormous wet spot on the hardwood floor. It was large enough, I could have been convinced I had peed under there if I didn't feel the river of wetness running down my thighs. I was on the edge of losing my mind with desire, but I had not broken Rule 10. I had not even asked for it. This was for him. The reward he had given me for cleaning the house so well was given right back to him for his own pleasure.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'll clean that up." I murmured. I walked briskly from the room and fetched a towel from the linen closet next to the master suite. When I came back, the smell of pussy hit me like a truck. I flushed in embarrassment, but it only renewed the lust that had dimmed during my trip across the house.
I knelt again, mopping up my juices from beneath the desk. I heard him step up behind me, and prayed he would do what I thought he was going to. I wiggled my ass just a little bit. Just enough that it was blatantly obvious it was for him and not to readjust. I felt his knees touch mine as he joined me, and my heart and pussy sang in joint exhilaration.
He didn't bother checking to see if I was wet; he probably noticed the smell get stronger when I came back in. I felt the dome of his wrapped cock against my entrance, and that was the only warning I got before he sheathed entirely within me.
"Cum for me, bitch."
My overly-sensitive pussy clamped down on him like a vise, and an orgasm ripped through my body. His hands gripped my hips as he ground into my violently shaking body. I would have screamed if I had any free brain cells to work with, but they all seized as tightly as my muscles did.
I moaned lewdly as I came back to my senses and began to thrust back towards him. "Please, Sir. Your greedy little bitch needs more! Please let me cum again, Sir!" Jake laughed from behind me, and I felt him bend forward over me to reach my clit as he pounded me. He brushed his fingers across it lightly, and I moaned again.
"You can cum as much as you want until I finish. You've been a very good bitch today." He suddenly went into overdrive with his fingers, rubbing furiously as he worked me towards another orgasm. This one was even stronger, and I could feel the explosion rising up from within me. I'd only ever done this a few times before, but the combination of my extreme arousal and his diligent work on my pleasure button made me erupt.
A shriek tore from my lips as my body seized entirely in his grasp, and I squirted all over the floor I'd been trying to clean up. It blanked my mind out momentarily, and Jake held still within me until I gasped for breath again and returned to earth with a low, throaty purr. I wiggled my ass into his crotch, and he got back up to speed in no time at all. His thrusts began to grow erratic, and I could tell he was getting close.
His rough, husky voice sounded behind me as he slowed his pace to make sure I heard him, and to prevent his own orgasm from arriving before my third one. "This was supposed to be a reward for your job cleaning, and here you are making a mess again. Do you think I ought to stop pounding my little bitch if she's going to ruin all her hard work?"
My mouth began spewing all sorts of obscenities at him; begging for more, promising him every filthy thing I could think of, even offering him my tight little asshole if he just kept going a little longer. I was ecstatic I had extracted two orgasms from him while he worked. He had never pounded me without breaks or repositioning like this before. Every stroke felt like he'd break the floor with me as he molded my pussy around his cock.
"No! Please, Sir, No! Fuck! God, that's so... Sir, I need it, please! Don't stop fucking your little bitch's brains out! I promise I'll clean it up again. I'll lick it off the floor if you want, just- GODDAMN!" My pleas for leniency were interrupted by him suddenly jackhammering into me. He went from zero to a hundred in a millisecond, and drove me over the edge nearly instantly. I felt him clench up behind me, and the cursed condom keeping his load back, as my third enormous orgasm tore through me.
We panted together, breathing heavily as we came down. When he withdrew, I moved from above the puddle I'd made and slumped to the floor. I was so blissfully worn out, I couldn't support myself any longer. I heard him moving around behind me, but he didn't say anything to me as I recuperated.
Eventually, Jake left the office altogether, and I took that as my cue to get a move on. I pushed myself up and used the towel to clean up my fresh mess before heading out to find him. I dropped the towel in the basket in the master bedroom, and decided it was full enough to run a load of laundry. While I was loading the washer, I heard Jake call for me from across the house.
"Get in here, my little bitch!" He sounded angry. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I threw the rest of the clothes into the machine and practically sprinted out of the room towards the master bathroom. I already knew what I did.
"I took a walk around the house to make sure you'd done a good job cleaning the windows, bitch." He said as I knelt in front of him, keeping my eyes downcast. "Do you know what I found?"
I looked up at him and shook my head, trying to feign innocence. "Did I do a bad job, Sir?"
"You did a fine job on the windows you cleaned." Jake said, shifting to the side and pointing at the window he had been blocking from my view. There, up on the wall behind the freestanding tub, was the bane of my existence.
The small, frosted window was set into the wall. It was higher than a window normally ought to be, and the tub in front of it meant that I had a very difficult time getting to it. I had to get a silly little ladder out of the basement and set it up in the tub so I could get the extra two feet up in order to clean it.
I never fucking cleaned that window and, as far as I was concerned, it didn't exist. Jake was actually tall enough to see the dust and dirt collecting on it when he showered, though; it was one of his very few pet peeves around the house, but he very rarely ever made a fuss about it. Usually, he'd just clean it himself since it was so much easier for him to do it. I had, like the selfish bitch I was trying to grow out of, left it alone in my eagerness to get back to him.
I lowered my eyes to the floor again and whispered to my knees. Jake took a step closer to me and spoke firmly. "Repeat that. Louder, and looking at me."
I raised my face to him again and said, "I think your little bitch needs punishment, again."
Jake nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, you do."
- Jakob, seeing me in a more submissive role, appreciated the opportunity to step into his protective role once again.
- As a female submissive, I found a sense of joy and satisfaction in performing a blowjob for Jakob, satisfying the submissive part of me that seemed to be growing.
- The romantic evening with Jakob, complete with a movie and a blowjob, was a reward for my patience and submission, a step towards earning his title of 'Darling'.
- In the world of dominance and submission, I felt like a slave, eager to please Jakob and earn his favors, giving in to his demands in bondage.
- Despite the drama that often accompanied our relationships, the love between us remained strong, fueling our desire for dominance and submission, with Jakob as the maledom and I as his willing slave.