Worship...

Last week, my boy's work commitments meant that we were not able to see each other. He was having to leave very early and was arriving home very late. It was difficult for both of us as we were not able to be in our normal close contact by text either. By Thursday he was begging to see me...

So I gave 10 minutes of my time for my boy, and got myself to his house.

He really was missing me. He was like a little puppy dog excited to see his owner. Eager and giddy with excitement.

The week hadn't been made easier by the fact that we had been thinking a lot about rubber clothing. We were hoping to enter a photo competition and had planned a photoshoot day where I would dress up and my boy would be photographer. His ideas and thoughts around poses were not helping cocklet. 

"Mistress I was desperate before you came here.  Cocklet has been making things harder and harder.  He is aching (as are my balls).  He feels denied, lost, helpless and utterly hopeless.  There is no hope at all for him.  He is just purely your toy now.  That has been hitting me hard over the last few days especially.  Tonight... you didn't relieve that.  You didn't touch him or let him out even.  Instead... you made it harder for me.  Thank you."

We went straight upstairs and layed on the bed together. He needed to worship me. I knew. So, I pulled down my jeans and, on all fours, presented him with his place of worship. 

His eagerness and sense of desperation were very obvious. The speed with which he flung his mouth and tongue onto me. And I placed my hand behind his head, holding him there.

"I wanted to throw myself at you, give myself over purely to worship.  And just as I was thinking about this, you dropped your jeans and allowed me to do just that.  Your bottom felt amazing.... tasted fantastic - better than ever before.  Very much so.  I absolutely loved it and feel extremely privileged.  Thank you."

I loved his worship. It lead me to a place of pleasure. Devotion at this level is incredibly sexual....

"Your orgasm.... when I need one so badly... 3 months and 2 weeks since my accident.  8 months, 2 weeks and 5 days since my last proper orgasm.... I REALLY need one. Yet you took one at a whim.  My god.  I LOVED your orgasm Mistress.  Whilst all I could do was worship your body.  Your slave, so so frustrated and desperate, I felt I was just there to please you and to feed your orgasm.  To increase the thing that you denied me.  Mistress, giving up my orgasms is worth the pleasure derived from seeing and feeling you have yours.  Especially to know your orgasms are caused by my lack of them.  Thank you."

In return for his devotion, and my quickly having to leave, I wanted to give him a gift. I cleaned myself with them first, and then placed them under his pillow.

"Your knickers... what an unexpected and amazing gift!  You know that I shall be going to sleep tonight with them over my nose.  That I will be sniffing them in bed..  And grateful... truly truly grateful for what you gave me.  Thank you...

Finally, just to let you know some things....

Your body is the most amazing, beautiful and sexy body I have ever seen or touched.  I genuinely want to worship you with my entire being every time I see you unclothed.  Your bottom is SO delectable.  Your pussy... owns me...."

And so I left him..but we both felt replenished for having our few minutes together.

"Dear Mistress Keyholder,

I feel it is beholden on me to write you a formal thank you following your visit just now.

I feel utterly used, abused, overwhelmed and engulfed by you.

I think it is fitting that I write this thank you whilst on my knees - I am genuinely kneeling before the computer as I type.  I am doing that because I think it would please you and also because it feels like the proper position to write this letter from..."

Don't you just think my boy is becoming the most lovely slave? Isn't he everything I ever wanted, everything I ever spoke to you about in my early days of searching? He is becoming such a good boy....

Male chastity..

This is why it is my obsession.