I woke up, groggily, the extra large dog basket that had become my bed over the last couple of months was as always damp. It was a Monday , two and a half days since Master Darren had returned and reclaimed me after my stay with Peter and Michael.
After the tenderness of our reunion, life had returned to one where obedience , punishment and limit stretching were the main features. After we left the gym that Friday, Masters collar round my neck, he insisted that we went for a walk . He wanted to check how comfortable i was with being collared in broad daylight. At that moment in time i knew deep inside that i was so pleased to be back in his company that i'd have walked naked all the way to Clapham had he so wished.
On arriving home, he announced that he had a gift. It was a new crop that needed to be broken in, and i was immediately pushed over the end of his sofa, my butt in the air where the twenty whacks that we had discussed back at the gym were administered .
The rest of the weekend was quiet, as Sir still had some loose ends to tie up. I was prohibited from speaking as he did not want a distraction, as a result much of Saturday was spent with a muzzle over my head, my mouth gagged so effectively that even saying Yes Sir in response to an order was difficult.
"I understand that you really got off on polishing Peter's boots, I have more than enough pairs that you can be getting on with while I work"
That was an understatement. In our downtime moments i would joke that He was the Leather Master Imelda Marcos. So the task of polishing his vast collection was challenging yet a pleasure, Thankfully the muzzle left my nose uncovered and i took deep breaths not only of the leather, but the inside of each boot, an opportunity to get high on the scent of my Master's feet.
Sunday was less fun, my ankles and knees were shackled, and a butt plug inserted and locked into position. I was then handed a dozen brand new toothbrushes and instructed to clean the grouting in the bathroom tiles, Once i had finished that task, i had to get to work in ensuring that the toilet was sparkling clean with no trace of limescale, or hard to shift skid marks anywhere. This Master Darren said would keep me busy for the day. He did not expect to hear more than just the occasional sound, anything more would be tallied and i would be punished. Of course I had no way of knowing what noise would be acceptable, and what would incur a punishment.
Sir was right, it took me the best part of the day to get through my assigned tasks, i fully accepted that i would be punished for making a noise regardless of how quiet i tried to be, but a greater fear was punishment for not carrying out the assigned tasks to the correct standard. I went over the grouting cleaning in between each tile at least a half dozen times before i realised that i could not possibly get it cleaner.
Next it was the toilet. A toilet that i had still not properly used since entering Master Darren's house as his slave. Knowing i was in close proximity to His throne made my heart leap.
I got together the cleaning equipment and got to work. 50% of Masters piss went if i was accessible down my throat, or if at night over me as i slept, so on one level the amount of cleaning required was minimal, however, there were a few shit stains at the bottom of the bowl that had been there for weeks, and had proved difficult to fully shift. Over the last few weeks when doing the housework and faced with toilet cleaning, my mind would occasionally wander and think what his shit tasted like. Would i be a better slave if i ate it, would my bathroom cleaning duties be less arduous if i took that next step. I soon realised that it would be better to put my mind to getting rid of the shit that was there than the shit that was possibly yet to come.
After putting some decent effort into the work the stains finally disappeared, the toilet was gleaming. On other days i would have reported to Darren to say that the work was done, and wait for him to either inspect, or to allocate me a new task. Today I knew that i had to remain silent. I knelt alongside the toilet, and waited. And waited.
Oi Boy, who said you could sleep?
I felt a tug on my ear, as my head was lifted from the lid of the toilet. I guess i was still tired after my time at Michael and Peters.
"Sorry Sir" I panically replied. "I didn't want to disturb your work" "Sound like as if you are creating reasons for a harder punishment to me, perhaps i should leave that arse of yours untouched for a few days. That would be a real punishment wouldn't it"
"Whatever You wish Sir, I'm sorry Sir"
Darren laughed, "Ok let's see what kind of job you have made of cleaning." He lifted the lid and inspected it. "Looks clean, but is it clean enough to eat off?"
"Lick the seat?" he commanded I looked up at Him
"Come on Lick it" I bent down and worked my tongue over the newly cleaned toilet seat, secretly wishing that it still tasted of the Darren's sweat.
"That's enough,'' he lifted the seat . "Now for the underside I need to make sure that you did a proper job: Lick"
I obeyed.
"Good boy. Now for the bowl. Lick the outside, whilst I pop to the kitchen. You'd better have your mouth on that porcelain when i return.
I crouched down to floor level, and began to lick the base of the toilet where it met the thankfully clean tiles. Never had i been so glad that i had spent so much time cleaning His throne. Darren was gone for sometime, so much so that i was approaching the top third of the bowl when he reappeared.
I think you've proved that that's clean enough. Now what about inside?
Would you say it's clean enough to eat from ?
"Sir Yes Sir"
"Let's see",
He briefly disappeared, returning with a tin of tomato soup in his hands. He opened it and poured it over the inside of the bowl, covering the porcelain that i had worked hard to make gleaming and white all afternoon.
Washing his hands he said one word
"Eat, if you leave any then next time it won't be soup"
I looked up at him. "Yes, Sir, Thank you sir" I put my head into the bowl and began to lick trying to get as much off my the bowl and into my mouth as possible. Of course i knew that the object of this was not to feed me, but to test my obedience.I knew that even if i had skimped on the cleaning i'd have obeyed his instruction.
After five minutes by which my tongue was started to get sore, i felt a tug on my collar as my head was lifted.
Master Darren looked in, to the bowl, fuck that's a mess, he looked at me, laughed, and ordered me to look on the mirror.
My face was covered with traces of tomato soup, globules of it dripping off my beard
He dragged me back to the bowl.
There's plenty more left. Carry on eating.
My head had only been in the bowl for a few seconds when first i felt my head being pushed down, and then a torrent of water enveloped me . Master had pulled the flush. He lifted my head. He didn't say anything, the only noise was the cistern filling up.
He then pushed my head back in and for a second time pulled the flush. He repeated this four times. He finally pulled my head up, looked in the bowl.
Looks a bit cleaner, you do too.
Now get that bowl properly clean, get that shit out of your beard, when you've finished come and sit beside me. I'm going to watch some TV
I spent the next half hour making sure His throne was again spotless, and washed the remains of the soup off my face, i was now presentable. I crawled to the living room, where Master was sat, in full leather, a cigar in his hand and a bottle of beer on the table beside him the heavy scent of tobacco filled the air. I approached his chair and sat on the floor beside him.
After a few minutes he indicated that i was to sit on the floor between his legs. As i sat he moved his legs closer together, the smell of leather was intoxicating, he moved my head back so it was resting on the cushion of the arm chair. Looking up i could see the glow of red from the tip of his cigar illuminating his face. We both smiled, his right hand caressed my face, and slowly pushed my jaw down so my mouth was now open. I continued to look into his eyes waiting. Waiting. It did not have to wait for long as a large ball of ash fell from the cigar into my mouth.
I wanted to yell in pain, instead I just said Thank You Master, it's good to be home.
He smiled, It's good to have you home boy, as a large ball of spit fell from his mouth on to my face.