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Cash Verified Slaves
AphenoditeVenus
by on September 16, 2018
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Those eyes look straight through his pretense. No matter how well he plays the part, She knows he aches for Her command.

So, She obliges.

Nothing too obvious, just a simple, "Hey, if you've got a minute..." and, "Oh! Would you mind...?" The beaming smile and the sudden pep in his step give him away immediately. If he'd had a tail, the sound of his name alone prefacing these requests would resemble the daily reunion between a puppy and the Mistress who adopted him. The thought of being, even temporarily, useful makes his heart palpitate, his skin perspire.

Then, suddenly, it's different - She finally realizes Her true Power over him, and decides She wants Her own personal jester. "Skip for Me. Again. Now, backwards... now, the other way..." Her smile is intoxicating, makes him feel so fragile and free.

The best part is when She starts requesting serenades. Finally, he felt he could express himself - She noticed a guitar pick fell out of his pocket, as he offered Her a bandage strip for Her finger. The whole dynamic is non-sexual, even though certain parts of his anatomy wish She would change the course of their activities in said direction.

In those fleeting moments of vulnerability, he feels genuinely honored to be allowed to tend to Her.

One night, while chauffeuring Her to the karaoke bar for one of his weekly performances, She pretends to slap him across the face while they're stopped at a red light - immediately, the thought of peering up from between Her thighs as She slaps him, grabbing fistfulls of his hair and directing him to Her pleasure overwhelm his senses.

"Do it," he pleads, eyes desperate.

"I would," She laughs, "but, then, you'd have to be My slave forever, and you're not ready for that, yet." The idea of him collared and forever ready to fulfill Her every whim is too much - could he ever BE so lucky?!

"What would I have to do? Please..." begging with his eyes.

"Not now. We're here." Obediently, he accepts Her decision. "Open My door for Me."

--

Thoughts taunt him all night - each pint gives him the bit-more confidence he needs. Finally, alone in the parking lot, numb, he sinks to his knees.

"I'm begging you, please, I can't stop thinking about you. I want to follow every order you give, even if that means being Your slave for the rest of My life. Please..." She takes the keys from him.

"I'm driving - we're going to My place. In the morning, if you feel the same way, we'll see."

Like Christmas Eve, he barely sleeps, staying put on the floor while She sleeps on the loveseat, to "keep an eye on him". Mostly, he watches and waits for Her to awaken. Finally, She rises, smiling when She sees him. "Go to the kitchen and make us some coffee."

"Yes, Mistress," tail wagging.

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