 |
|||
|
|
THE TALE OF PRETTY ASS
BY PAUL ALEXANDER
CHAPTER FIVE
Kneeling beside her Master's (the only) chair while He enjoys the lamb chops etc. she has prepared for His dinner, she really hopes she has prepared enough. He has worked hard today and is obviously hungry, but since her meal comes from His hand, there might not be enough to feed her, in which case, she goes hungry. Not a big problem, it's happened before and will certainly happen again, but that muffin He fed her for lunch has sort of worn off and she's starving. Still, not a good idea begging to be fed, it means five strokes, which, today, is a consummation to be avoided; maybe she can wheedle him into allowing a late night snack.
"There you go Pretty Ass, I think I've had about as much rabbit food as I can take for one day"
Setting the plate on the floor beside His chair.
"Thank you, Master. May pretty ass be permitted to feed?"
, Must keep the formalities straight, just because Master puts a full plate on the floor, is no reason to assume he intends to feed her.
"Anymore of that Chardonnay, that was rather tasty."
"Yes, of course, Master, permit pretty ass to pour you a glass."
"Very well, slavegirl, you may feed."
"Thank you, Master."
Hands firmly placed beside her ass, she takes delicate little bites from the Caesar salad, it wouldn't do to have her mouth full if she needs to respond to Master.
Pause while he stuffs his after dinner pipe and lights the fragrant, aromatic tobacco, a sip of coffee, then...
"What's for dessert, Pretty Ass?'
Gulp.
"Would Master care for Dutch apple pie, slavegirl could nuke it and there is still some cheddar to go with it, or there is still a creme caramel, it would only take ten minutes to heat and brown in the small oven,... slavegirl made Nanaimo bars last weekend, Master always seems to like them?"
"Decisions, decisions, decisions...right, nuke the pie but it had better be the OLD cheddar."
Luckily, she still has a slice of the old, so her ass is not in danger. The last time she confused sandwich cheese with dessert cheese, she couldn’t sit for a week. This is not quite the disaster it seems as she is absolutely forbidden to sit, anyway! The difficulty is that she is also forbidden to rub her ass!
Ping from the microwave; slide the slice of pie onto a china dessert plate, the cheese, place in front of Master.
"Would Master care for more wine?"
"No, this is enough to be going on with, I'll take another coffee in the chair when I'm done."
"Yes, Master."
She steps through her chain yet again, kneels and delicately attacks the remains of the salad.
Master finishes his pie, collects his pipe and strolls off to the leather armchair to read the paper while His slavegirl attends to the dishes and straightening out the kitchen. A snap of His fingers, she finishes pouring a mug of coffee and scurries out to His chair, holding the mug between the tips of her fingers, handle turned away from her. She kneels, lifts the cup to her lips, plants a long, deep kiss on the side of the mug, lowers her head and extends her arms to offer up the mug and herself. While sipping on His coffee, His other hand goes exploring between her thighs, bringing a helpless wriggle and moan along with the usual gush of fluid.
He brings His left hand to her lips so she can lick and suck her juices. After drying His hand on her breasts, He snaps His fingers.
."The dishes, pretty ass."
A rustle of newspaper.
"Yes, Master"
Ten minutes later, another fingersnap. She hurries to Him, stops three paces in front of Him, bends forward to step through the chain and kneels submissively, hands behind her back.
"How may a slavegirl serve her Master?"
"An afterdinner brandy would go down nicely, just about now."
"Master said He wasn't happy with the Desjardins, perhaps some Armagnac would please?"
"Yes, good thought, save that other stuff for cooking"
"Right away, Master."
Rising gracefully, she goes to the sideboard, steps through her chain, takes down a lead crystal brandy snifter, holds it between her breasts to warm it and pours two fingers worth of the fiery spirit from a crystal decanter. Carrying the glass again between her fingertips, she walks slowly to kneel before Him, again raises the glass to her lips for a long, lingering kiss and offers it to Him, her head down in submission. She refreshes her lipstick and bends forward to kiss His feet.
"Yes, Pretty Ass?"
"Master, when pretty ass is done in the kitchen, would Master permit His slavegirl to dance for His pleasure?"
"Very well, slavegirl, but a full hour this time, none of this half-hour warm up stuff."
"Yes, Master."
"And fetch my tobacco."
"Yes, Master."
End of chapter five
|
|
|