Chapter 8

"Katherine!" I bellowed as I stormed into the apartment. Furious, I slammed the door behind me.

"Yes, Master," you replied softly from almost beside me. Looking down I see you kneeling in the classic submissive pose. Your knees are spread almost straight out to the sides opening your slit wide and fully revealing your now-throbbing clit. With your hands behind your neck and your elbows thrown back, your luscious tits are up and your nipples are visibly throbbing. "Request permission to look up at your face, Master?" you continued with your eyes downcast.

Katherine, what is wrong with me? I come in with fire coming from my eyes. You say just a few words and I forget everything. Particularly I just forgot why I was mad. "Of course you may look, my darling Katherine."

Looking into my face now — but while still holding your position — you grin and say, "My name is Kate, Master. You know that. I am your slave and sex toy. You are my beloved master." Then your eyes widen and you ask, "Might my master be interested in a light snack?"

That was another change. Where formerly I used to eat at least three huge meals a day, now we had breakfast or brunch, perhaps a small snack or tea, then a late dinner. And, my beloved slave, I also find out that you are training the kitchen staff. Heaven only knows the quality of food being served is light-years better than it ever was in history.

And, by the way, I learned this from my lord chamberlain, who reported that you did apologize to him. But does my darling let it go with an apology? My Katherine? Don't be silly. My Katherine has to take his face lightly between her hands, tip it and then melt her lips to his. He told me that, first, he almost lost consciousness because of the power of your kiss, but second, he is almost at the point of reconsidering his sexual orientation! What did you do to the poor man? Oh! And if I failed to mention it, he adores you, my love.

But a snack? The idea sounded interesting. "I think a snack is an excellent idea. What now?"

"Permission to rise, Master?" you asked softly.

Slowly shaking my head I replied, "Of course, my darling." Then I added, "Aren't you finished with the playacting yet?"

At that you just quickly shook your head, stuck out the tip of your tongue, and led the way to our small dining table. There on the table was a large domed silver cover but it was impossible to see what, if anything, it covered. Sitting in front of the cover was a side chair. My armchair had disappeared. Before I could say a word, though, your fingers were busy and in no time I was as bare as you. And, of course, my cock was rigid due to its proximity to your cunt, it's favorite sheath.

"Seat yourself, please, Milord," you said softly.

As soon as I did you sat across my lap and easily fitted my throbbing erection into your pussy. With just a few little wiggles you had taken all of it in that our relative positions permitted. Then, although I expected you to begin to move your body on mine, instead you began to work your internal muscles. My eyes involuntarily began to close as your cunt began to massage my cock.

But then I opened them again when you removed the silver cover revealing an iced caviar service. While still massaging my cock you open a chilling bottle of Dom Pérignon and poured a flute for me. (You know, that Dom Pérignon stuff is really great! Or will be when they get around to making it in a few hundred years.) After giving it to me you wait for me to have a sip. When I do and nod, you pour your own and then fill my glass. Then taking a tiny saucer, my love holds it under her left tit. Then with the greatest care you ladle caviar followed by all the trimmings to your erect and throbbing nipple. "Caviar Sur Kate's Nipple, Milord," you announce. "I so hope it meets with your approval."