Mistress, slave and Golden Showers (A true story)

Ashley


I remember like it was just yesterday, and my Mistress was visiting me at my home. We had been watching a couple of DVDs on my TV, and, of course, I was seated at Her feet, ready to serve Her at a moments notice. The film was nearing an end when She ordered me to bring Her a soda. I missed the end of the film, but servitude to my Mistress was always my first priority regardless of anything else. I knelt down next to Her chair as She sipped her drink. I looked at Her from my place on the floor, admiring Her female beauty. Her feminine movements brought me erotic dreams of lust and passion. The pussy worm (as She called it) between my legs was throbbing in sexual heat. I imagined a milieu of sensual dreams swarming in my head all ending with my face between Her legs and my lips pressed between

Her sweet pussy. I thought how many hours of pleasure I could sustain pleasuring Her to climax again, and again, and again. What infinite joy dominated my thoughts when I heard Her leave the chair and murmur with a degree of exasperation, "Too bad slave you're not into golden showers," as She headed toward the stairway leading to a bathroom.My heart started pounding furiously. I found it almost impossible for me to believe what I heard. I ran to Her side, nearly screaming with anxiety, "Dear, Dear Mistress, what in the world makes you think I'm not into golden showers?"

"Are you, my little slut?" She replied.

"Yes, yes," I was nearly begging for such an experience.

"Then strip perv; Everything off."

I nearly tore off my clothes in my mad rush to obey Her demand until I was totally naked.

"On your knees slave and crawl into that corner," She ordered, pointing to a clear space near the stairway. "Go on," She commanded, "Crawl like the worm you are."

"Roll over on your back," I want to see that pussy worm between your legs."

I obeyed immediately. My pussy worm was in a heightened state of excitement. It appeared to please my Mistress, and She laughed as She kicked my throbbing worm with the tip of Her shoe, commenting "Oh what a filthy little slut we have here." She went to the kitchen and brought back a face cloth which She placed over my eyes. Then started to mount the stairs. "Don't go away," She laughed, "I'll be right back."

There I was, spread out on the floor, totally naked with a wash cloth over my eyes waiting to be used as a human urinal. It excited me to think of myself as such while the worm between my legs throbbed with sensual expectation. Minutes passed that seemed like hours. At length Mistress returned. I could feel her naked thighs enclosing either side of my face. "Are you thirsty?" she asked.

"Oh yes, yes Mistress,"  I softly murmured.

"Then beg me for it," She laughed, "Beg me for the privilege of tasting my golden nectar."

"Please, please beloved Mistress of my dreams.  Please let me taste your golden nectar." I begged and pleaded over and over again until I felt a trickle over my nose and into my mouth. The trickle almost immediately became a steady stream, leaving my mouth and running over my chest, stomach and my pussy.

"Rub it in, rub it in," Mistress directed. I obeyed, rubbing the nectar over my body and into my cock and testicles. That pussy worm was expanding and I begged Mistress for permission to orgasm. She laughed and said "What would you do if you were still in chastity?" I couldn't answer that one. All I know is that I was unable to hold it back, and as I rubbed Her precious nectar into my genitals, I climaxed.

"You didn't have my permission to do that," She said, but had to laugh at my despair. Now I was rubbing cum into the pussy worm. I was still in a high state of eroticism. My Goddess left me for a few moments. When She returned She was dressed and removed the washcloth from my eyes. With washcloth in hand, Mistress proceeded to pat dry my chest, stomach, the genitals. When She finished, She pushed the washcloth into my mouth, ordering me to suck on the juices.

I didn't particularly like the taste of my cum, but the thrill of consuming the golden nectar of my Mistress made everything palatable. For me it was like a sacred ritual. But Mistress wasn't finished with me yet.

Another ritual began. "Open your mouth slave," She ordered.

I did as She wished. She bent over my prone body and spit into my mouth and commanded me to swallow. She repeated this four or five times: "Open your mouth, slave," spit, and "Swallow." Of course I thanked Her for every swallow She made me take. She enjoyed that, and she suggested that next time she would bring a couple of her girl friends to partake of what She calls my baptism. And yes, that possibility does excite me. The verb swallow has become for me my strongest and amazing Aphrodisiac, and it doesn't cost anything.

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