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My wristwatch alarm vibrates me awake an hour before Mistress typically wakes. I make her coffee, get breakfast prepped, and hurry to her bedroom to present myself to her. I wait on my knees next to the day bed in her bedroom, where she sometimes lets me sleep. My hands rest on my thighs, palms down. My back is straight enough for her liking. It's one of the easier poses she taught me, but I still struggle to keep my back straight. I am nude, of course, except for my collar. She likes me this way because she says my body belongs to her.

She stirs, and my heart speeds up. "C'mere, little bear," she calls to me in a not-quite-awake voice.

"Yes, Miss." I look up. "I'm right here. How may I serve you?" I stand up and take a step toward her.

"I will be showering first thing."

"Yes, Miss. Shall I run the water first and then help you disrobe?"

"Yes, little one."

I scurry to the master bath. I turn the shower on and make sure the water is the right temperature and doesn't spray the tile. Both are mistakes I've made in the past.

"Inspection, please," she says as she enters the bathroom. "Eyes down."

I stand with my back straight, arms up and over my head, each hand holding on to the opposite wrist. With my arms up overhead, my breasts thrust out in front of me loud and proud. My legs are spread more than shoulder-width apart in case she wishes to inspect between my legs. I desperately want to look at her, but I am not allowed. She runs gentle fingers over my body. Face, chin, throat. My nipples harden at her touch. She splays her hand flat over my heart for a few moments as if listening to my heartbeat through her hands. I often lose my breath, like now, when she does this.

"Look at me," she says, and I look into the most brilliant olive-green eyes I have ever seen. Her long blonde hair frames her pretty face beautifully. Her nightgown is deep violet and makes her look like the queen that she is. It is all I can do not to melt under her gaze. My breathing amps up again; I know she can feel it.

"Disrobe me."

"Yes, Miss." I have been trying to keep my hands from shaking every time she asks me to touch her, but she's only owned me for three weeks and everything still feels new. Even so, I don't think I will ever stop shaking in her presence. I undo the clasp at the back of her nightgown and then reach down free spin for the hem. She raises her arms as I pull it up and over her body. I blow out a sigh at the sight of her gorgeous body. Her tight torso, her perfect hourglass shape, her full breasts. My lower region flutters at this privileged sight.

"Clean towel, Miss." I point to the fresh towel I had placed on the towel rack late yesterday afternoon. I am surprised my voice works.

"Thank you, little bear." She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me on the forehead. Quietly she says, "Go make my bed and then wait for me in the bedroom."

After making the bed and snapping the bedspread tight, I resume my waiting pose. I practice the mindful breathing techniques she taught me when I first came to live with her.

Her voice startles me as she comes out of the bathroom. "Look up." I do. She stands close, her shaven sex right in front of me. My mood lifts. Does she wish me to service her? She snaps a leash onto the metal ring of my collar.

"Thank You, Miss," I whisper.

I wear her collar 24-7 to remind me that I am hers. Her property. As if I could ever forget. She pulls up on the leash, and I stand up. She does not often ask me to crawl. Humans were meant to walk, she always says.

"C'mere, little bear." She leads me toward the bed and finally stops when the backs of her legs reach the end of the bed. She sits.

I remain standing in front of her waiting for instructions. The expression on her face has become severe. She raises a stern eyebrow.

In an instant, I realize what I have done and fall to my knees as gracefully as I can. "I'm sorry, Miss. I should never allow myself to be above you." I lean forward and put my hands on either side of her bare feet. I press my forehead to the tops of her feet. I kiss her feet in reverence as tears fill my eyes. She is not pleased, and I know it.

She lifts my chin with her right foot, but I keep my eyes down. I can't face her right now. I am not worthy. She pulls me toward her as her legs open. "Service me, my pet." She drapes the leash over my shoulder and says, "Later you will be punished for your momentary indiscretion. But not right now."

She puts both hands on my head and rakes her nails along my scalp. She then grabs two healthy handfuls of my short hair and pulls my face to her sex so that my bonus veren siteler nose becomes coated with her arousal. I inhale her sweet yet slightly earthy scent. This is heaven for me. This is the altar on which she allows me to feast. I inhale deeply and moan my pleasure.

"Good girl," she says. "Little bear likes her Mistress's pussy, doesn't she?" Her words electrify my own sex, but I ignore it. "Lick me like the good girl that you are."

My pussy surges with desire at her words. But this is about her, not me. I reach low with the flat of my tongue and press hard against her perineum and then move my head to lick her entire sex. When I reach her clit, I give it a little flick. It's my promise of things to come. In the three weeks since she's been using me, I've learned what she likes and doesn't like. Although these things have been evolving lately. It doesn't matter, though; she always corrects me.

She sighs and loosens the grip on my hair. I am going to take my time now. I lick her fleshy outer lips, pausing to suck them into my mouth as I work my way around. I shimmy closer to her and wrap my left arm around her leg from underneath to give myself a better purchase. I rest my right hand on her inner thigh. She tends to close her legs on my head when I am servicing her, and I need room to work.

Her juices flow freely. That makes me happy because I have barely begun. I lap her up like the puppy on a leash that I am. I carefully avoid her clit and trace my way around her thin inner lips. I pull one into my mouth and suck hard. She moans her approval, spurring me on to greater feats.

I wedge my shoulders in between her legs now so that I can free up my hands to work. With my left I spread her labia wide and then insert my tongue. I run my tongue around her inner walls as if licking her clean. She tastes so fucking good. I can't help thinking that this is the best taste in the entire world. I am the most privileged house slave there ever was.

I flatten my tongue again and lick her from bottom to top like I am licking an ice cream cone. A Mistress-flavored ice cream cone. The best kind. With the index and ring fingers on my left hand, I split open her furrow. I dip my middle finger into her well making sure it is well coated. I slide it up across her clit. She moans and I feel her legs squeeze my shoulders. deneme bonusu veren siteler I dip and slide my middle finger several more times to her obvious approval.

She has one hand still wrapped in my hair and she lifts my head up with the other. When she gets close to cumming, she likes her slaves to keep eye contact with her. It makes it harder for me to work, but my tongue finds her swollen clit. She keeps my head still and rocks her hips. She rubs her clit against my stiff tongue and lips. I do my best to keep my tongue solid as she rocks. Her rhythm intensifies. She's getting close. Her breathing is labored.

I take a chance and poke two fingers in her moving center. I twist my fingers up and she knows where my fingers want to go. "Yes, little bear. Yes." Her movements slow momentarily, and she lets me find her Goddess spot. I stroke her spongy tissue from the inside. Her bucking hips start up again and I hang on. Her thighs close against my shoulders and I dip down so she can squeeze my head between her legs when she cums.

Her low moans begin. My tongue is getting tired, but I steel it hard and help her out by flicking it against her very erect clit.

She cries out as she cums, bucking and moaning as she does so. Her muscles spasm around my fingers deep inside her. Her legs have a vicelike grip around my head.

She finally lets me loose, and I resume my attention pose, my face inches from her center. I inhale her intoxicating scent, grateful for the odd series of events that led me to her three weeks ago.

"C'mere, little bear," she says. I look up at her expectantly and lean forward. Is she going to? Oh, oh, yes, she is! She leans down and kisses me square on the forehead.

"You are such a good girl. Such a good little pussy licker."

My heart clenches with joy, and I tear up at her praise. Oh, how I have come to live for her approval.

"Now, go get my favorite flogger from the playroom. You know the one. Somebody needs a punishment for her earlier transgression."

"Yes, Miss," I say and leap up to do her bidding.

C'mere, little bear are the best words in the world because it means that she has noticed me, that she has chosen me, that I get to please her in some privileged way.

It takes me an overlong minute to find her favorite flogger because it's not in the usual spot next to the crops and the whips.

"C'mere, little bear," she singsongs from down the hallway. "You might as well get your ankle and wrists cuffs, too, because you're taking way too long."

My heart pounds in my chest. Oh, yes, C'mere, little bear are the best three words in the whole wide world.