It was a cross, on top of a hill, crying out to be occupied. I couldn’t actually fasten Mat to it and leave him to enjoy the view from a lonely vantage point, but I put him where he belonged as best I could.
Mat was feeling slutty. He had been feeling that way for a while and his need was boiling over in him. I should probably point out that I had (originally) no intention of letting him cum that day and he knew it.
Lunch was leftover pizza from the night before. Well brunch really. Actually I mean, despite the lateness of the hour, it was actually breakfast – but pizza for breakfast is good, right?
I’d heated it up in the oven and was offering Mat some but he was initially reluctant. Then he suggested (frivolously) he could spunk on a slice of seafood pizza and then eat it.
Oh, so much, yes.
I gave him a plate with the one remaining slice of seafood pizza (tuna, onion, prawns and double anchovies) and sat back with my own plate of pizza to watch the show.
Mat was feeling slutty. He was naked, wanking his cock and telling me his filthy fantasies. Expressing a desire to suck cock, to be spunked on and to have his virgin cunt raped by an enormous cock.
That fantasy wasn’t enough for him alone, he needed more. He requested permission to use a toy and I granted it. He fetched my big blue dildo and proceeded to fuck himself on it eagerly.
I watched, I ate pizza, I tweaked his nipples and slapped his balls and told him what a filthy slut he was. I enjoyed the show.
He came, like a good boy, on his slice of pizza and then, like a good boy, he ate it up. Grimacing in the aftermath, a pizza almost too salty even for my anchovy loving Boy.
A pizza with a topping you can’t order.
There is one gesture that will melt my heart and move me. One little thing that means so much and it is this, my boy kneeling at my feet.
It’s simple, non sexual, even publicly acceptable but it puts our D/s relationship in central space for that moment.
I had Mat kneel for me recently in a busy town centre. I was amused (and not entirely surprised) at the cries of “say Yes” that ensued. What those observers didn’t know is in that moment we were both saying “yes” to each other. This gesture from him at my command underlines who we are.
He kneeled at my feet atop a beautiful hill as I sat on a throne like rock, my willing submissive, my boy, my own. No queen ever felt so powerful, so respected or so worshipped as I did then.
Mat kneeled at my feet unbidden at the end of a hard day and helped me off with my shoes. As he gently massaged my feet, I felt loved and cared for. A simple service, spontaneously offered and the more precious for it. He gave me his submission without words and I took it with joy.
It is a gesture that sums up who we are. It never fails to move me deeply. At my feet, my Boy offers himself and I accept gladly. I give him my love and my approval. There is no quicker way to my heart.
This then is my favourite view of my Boy.
Holding him tight, feel the tension.
Because really, who doesn’t want to be worshipped.