“My little champion.”

The murmured words seemed to call me up out of the dreamy world of sleep. I cracked my eyes open as little slits and found the grinning face of Mistress Eliza a few inches away, lying next to me in bed. She had tucked herself right up close to me, her legs entwined with my bound ones, pressing herself so…so nicely up against me. In all the right ways.

“Mmph!”

“You are though. Champion of the BondCon races, and winner of platinum status for your Mistress for next year.” She ran a hand over my cheek and down to my chest, “A job very well done little one.”

I blushed a little, but found an unmistakable welling of pride up inside me at this. I squirmed around a little in my bondage pyjamas, and her arm drapped over me to hold me generally in place. I felt a little shiver run through me at that and felt my muscles melt a little at the embrace.

“Is someone bashful about how well they did yesterday?”

“Ggghmmm!” I felt my ears heating a little, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth around the soft ball gag I had worn through the night.

She leaned forward and planted a soft yet firm kiss on my forehead, and then a slightly harder one on my gagged lips, “You are my little champion Davey. And don’t you forget it.”

“Mmmmmm.” I moaned a little into the gag, shifting towards her in the bed to press myself as much as I could against her. She wrapped an arm around me, and I got to lie there with her. At peace with the world, and luxuriating in her warm embrace. It being the end of BondCon there was evidently no particular rush to be out and about. And after the way yesterday ended I was perfectly content to drowse about in bed for as long as I was allowed to.

I stole one or two glances at her, our faces close enough. She seemed…better. Those two Kraken jerks had really gotten her going, and that had stayed with us for a while. Whatever they had been trying to get from her, they had gone about it in perhaps the worst way possible. But then, one needed to know Eliza to understand how she would react to someone threatening me. Hell, I probably wouldn’t have thought she would spring to the defence of her slave in my early days after she snatched me. I would’ve thought, as those two idiots clearly had, that I was just…property to her. Like threatening to take someone’s car away from them.

But that…that didn’t seem to be the case. I snuggled deeper into her embrace, whiffling into my gag a little, and her grip tightened around me. I don’t know if she sensed the general train of my thoughts, but that firm, secure grip was everything I needed. That told me we were okay. I buried my head into her shoulder and gave some contented little grunts.

Damned arrogant idiots that they were. My hands clenched inside my straightjacket for a moment at the sheer gall of trying to force my Mistress to do anything. Trying to ruin her day. Bastards.

But she was relaxed now, eyeing me every now and then, but just lying there with me otherwise. Exercised whatever demons had arisen from the Krakens’ insinuations about taking me from her. That forcible separation had scared me. Well and truly. But all was right with the world now. Mistress and slaveboy. Both of us, together.

Eventually she tightened her grip for a brief moment and then gave my encased rear a playful smack.

“Mmmmpph!” I squirmed around, but her arms were tight around me, and her smile widened as she enjoyed the feel of my body struggling.

“I think it’s time for us to get up.” She shook her head in mock disappointment as I groaned my own feelings about that plan, “C’mon now, we’ve got to pack.”

I huffed another sigh into my gag and gave grumbling assent to her point. It was time, I suppose. She started by undoing my leg bondage, taking her sweet time about it as she started to unstrap them. A strap would be undone, and then her hands would roam about, tracing little patterns over me as she stared either at her moving hands or at my face as I moaned, and squirmed, and generally enjoyed myself.

I felt my legs come free, and then a single finger traced its way up from my hip to run along my collarbone. I gave a little whimper of pleasure into the ballgag, and bunted my head back, exposing as much of my neck to her as I could. Eliza gave one of her hungry chuckles, and leaned in to trail a pair of kisses, and some gentle nibbles across my neck. Then a finger hooked through my collar and pulled me upright.

“I trust you had a rejuvenating sleep? Recovered from your victory yesterday?”

I gave a contented nod, trying to grin around the gag, “Mmmmhmm!”

She smiled, “Good! Now…breakfast!”

 

“…I honestly thought I was done more than once.” I gave a shrug as I finished zipping the last luggage bag closed, “But it was…fun.” I paused for a moment, “I kinda feel for, umm, Jem though.”

I turned back towards where Eliza sat on the couch. I had been re-dressed in clothes that I was clearly meant to be out in public in. Some casual pants concealed the now re-seated security plug and my ever present chastity cage. A long sleeved shirt concealed a bondage belt that had small chains leading out through my sleeves to discreetly connect to steel cuffs around my wrists. From far away, even perhaps from where Eliza was sitting, it would be difficult to determine what was around my wrists.

Eliza smiled, similarly in casual, though still business smart attire, “It’s meant to be a challenge. But you, my sweet boy, beat it on your first go. And won me platinum access which we’ll just have to take advantage of in the future…” her eyes twinkled at me at that.

I flushed a little at that, more at her gaze than anything else. BondCon had been fun. In spite of some of the scarier moments, it had actually been fun. Then a half-remembered moment came to the fore in my mind and my eyes widened a bit,

“Umm, Mistress?” She cocked her head, “Did I…that is, last night was…did I get kissed by a redhead? I remember…” I broke off as she gave a giggle.

“I was wondering how much you remembered after winning your race. You just had this dazed look from the moment you planted that kiss on my boot right up until I tossed you into bed, fully bound up in your 'jammas.”

She beckoned me over to where she was sitting, where a small breakfast platter had been delivered. I sank smoothly down to my knees next to her as she continued, “And yes. Two red heads actually. Lady Rubina and another lady I met while watching you gave you a little kiss of fire. The winning slave gets some perks don’t you know?”

I flushed a little more as she grinned at me, and squirmed a little on my knees there.

She laughed at my reaction, scooping up some fruit, “Plus I carried your exhausted little butt out of there.”

I gave her a sidelong incredulous look as I munched on the offered berries.

“I have pictures and video…”

Her eyes danced as my mouth opened and shut a couple of times, the words failing to come out. Me being carried out of a room. By my Mistress. Seen by who knows how many people. And it was recorded. Damn it.

She giggled as I very visibly worked through my reaction to that little revelation.

“I think my training montage of you just got its capstone moment for BondCon. I mean, so many wonderful little moments caught on camera for me, and I didn’t even have to do any of the recording. Beyond taking the occasional picture.”

Matching action to words she hefted her phone. As she snapped the first picture I gave the camera a long suffering look and rolled my eyes. She reached out and tucked a finger under my chin, raising my face up to face her, and her camera. The sparkle in her eye sent me back to furiously blushing, and my eyes darted around to try to find something that wasn’t the beautiful, wonderful woman in front of me to focus on. And failed.

She grinned.

“Perfect.”

 

DING

The elevator door smoothly retracted, showing the lobby in a general state of activity. The BondCon structures and posters were slowly being disassembled. From a brief aside from Eliza they apparently had all day and a bit of tomorrow to re-transform the hotel back to a ‘normal’ state of affairs. And many people would likely take most of the day to stick around and have a last romp through whatever activities they wanted to do.

Not us though. Eliza had been quite firm that enough excitement and out-in-public time had been had. I had made one or two wheedling attempts to go back and look at some of the dungeon devices. Which is how I found myself sporting a bright purple ball gag.

“We have fun dungeon toys at home Davey,” Eliza had said whilst buckling the gag on amidst my ‘mmph’s’. Sounding for all the world like a weary parent scolding a child. I had giggled into the gag at that thought, which had then earned me the attention of her crop. Which had then delayed us getting out of the room. By which point the lobby had gotten just a touch more crowded than it might otherwise have been.

Eliza shot a look at me as she took in the extent of the bustle in the lobby. I gave her a wide eyed look of innocence that won me nothing but an irritated and amused snort from her. She gave my leash a slightly more forceful than usual jerk, leading me out of the elevator. Most of our stuff had already been spirited away to be packed into the car by hotel staff, so all I had to drag behind me was a single large rolling suitcase. My travel bondage tinkled merrily as I shuffled along behind Eliza, making a beeline for the front desk.

The lobby was itself the scene of some spirited goodbyes and chatter among convention goers as they prepared to leave this little oasis of fantasy and trek back into the real world. Most appeared set to leave in ordinary seeming clothes, while carrying plenty of bags and packages that were bulging with outfits, costumes, restraints, and other acquired or already owned items. Others had clearly elected to drive home still in varying states of kinky dress. A few of them still sported slaves in full bondage who appeared likely to spend the homeward journey bound in the backseat or trunk of whatever vehicle their master or mistress brought.

Several convention staff were arrayed near a small table off to the side near a small rather discreet looking door. As I watched a naked girl was frogmarched into the lobby by two BondCon enforcers, her wrists and ankles shackled, a ballgag straining her jaws, and a collar firmly strapped around her neck. A few sharp questions were asked of her by one of the ladies seated behind the table. When she gave jerking nods in response to all of them, the lady gave a sharp nod to the enforcers, who then efficiently unbound her. The woman behind the desk pushed a bundle of clothes across the table to her, which the girl grabbed and scurried from the lobby, eyes refusing to meet the looks of those enjoying the show.

As a bound, and naked, man was next marched through the door I realized. The last remnants of Sinner’s Row getting released. That’s what this was. One last humiliation for the rule-breakers before being released to clean themselves up. Absently I wondered about Red and her two blonde friends. Were they already gone? Finally escaped from Caitlin’s exacting domination?

Lost in my little world I nearly ran into Eliza as she halted in front of the lobby desk. Fortunately she didn’t notice, or chose not to notice my brief panicked clattering halt just behind her. I looked around, paying attention with half an ear to Eliza’s talk with the fetish maid manning (womaning?) the reception desk. Motion off to the side drew my gaze and I blinked in surprise as I saw Jake standing there. He was dressed in a fetish outfit vaguely like an old style butler costume, complete with collar and wrist cuffs, though no gag. He grinned as he saw me, and Eliza, and gave us both a wave.

I smiled as much as I could around my gag and waved back, my chains tinkling. I liked Jake. He had been nice, much nicer than I thought some random staffer was going to be when getting roped into spending his one day off pushing my butt around in a latex cube. And he had helped get rid of those Kraken jerks.

He winked at my grin, and then his attention got pulled away by a trio of young girls lugging their baggage towards the entrance. He gallantly stepped forward to offer his assistance, which was gratefully accepted as two of them surrendered their assorted luggage to him. The girls also appreciatively eyed him as he loaded himself up, giggling at some soft comment from him. Quite the ladies’ man it seemed.

I watched him trundle off behind them, a little bemused. Imagine me not knowing that I could have been a volunteer at BondCon. Pre-Eliza that would have been an amazing, though incredibly intimidating opportunity. Pre-Eliza I don’t think I could have handled spending days out in the open, in ‘public’, in bondage, however much it would have secretly appealed to me. But Eliza had happened. Whirling into my life like a force of nature and opening up a world of fantasy to me.

As that train of thought started up, and all sorts of feelings started to well, I minced forward a pair of paces and pressed my head into the back of her shoulder. She was wearing heels, so she was just a touch taller than me.

“…and it seems my boy is looking forward to heading home too.” Eliza said with a chuckle, reaching a hand back to stroke my face.

The maid grinned, “I got to see the final race last night. He’s got every right to be tuckered.” She had a lilting accent that made her words almost musical, “I’ve taken the liberty of transferring your details over to next year’s BondCon, and flagging your platinum status already. All you’ll have to do next year is show up, and everything will be laid out for you. The organizers have also elected to book you a suite as well. A final apology for the disturbances.” The lady gave a warm smile.

Eliza returned it, “Thank you.” She turned back to me, guiding me around and away from the desk.

As she began to move away, the leash twitching me to follow, she muttered, “Now then, no more bloody drama with you and people trying to take you from me. I am getting you safely back home without any…”

“Ah, Mistress Eliza.”

I’ll give my Mistress credit, I don’t think anyone except me could have heard the small muttered “damn it” that she managed before smoothing her face and pivoting around.

“Yes, Caitlin?” A sigh and raised eyebrow accompanied that.

I turned around, still clutching the rolling luggage. Mistress Caitlin stood behind us, dressed in a killer leather outfit that would, just, pass for acceptable in the outside world while still screaming dominance. Though just about anything on her would scream that, I supposed.

She casually held twin leashes in her hand, which trailed back to Jem and Red, standing behind her. Both had been strapped into leather armbinders, and an array of leather straps across their respective chests to secure them and probably just cover them in leather as well. Each wore short latex shorts which showed off their respective chastity devices, and their legs were encased in knee high high heeled boots. Chained for walking. And they each sported large ball gags with a harness of leather firmly securing the silencing balls into their mouths.

I gave a small gagged smile in spite of myself as Red flashed as big a grin as her gag made possible at Eliza and I. Her armbinder’d hands gave a wiggling sort of wave from behind and I gave a small, though muted, snort of laughter. I wiggled my own hand a little in return, my face flushing. I felt better about her now, though my awkwardness around her from the attempted kidnapping had been partly compounded by my brief evening in charge of her. I was torn between hoping I never got put in charge again and remembering the little thrills that had shot through me during it.

 Jem remained passively standing behind his Mistress, his face a careful mask. I shivered a little at that, part of me wondering at what sort of program his domme had put him through. He was so utterly obedient to Caitlin, but without any of the little teases and interactions that I had with my domme. I had really, reeeeeeally lucked out with Eliza.

“I trust you haven’t forgotten that Jem will be coming to stay with you? I have some matters to settle back home, but will dispatch him your way in a couple days.”

“Do I look like I’ve sustained head trauma in the last few days? I don’t have amnesia, thank you.” Eliza’s tone had just a touch of exasperated waspishness that told me she was about done with people. I meanwhile took another look at Jem. So he would be coming to stay. I wonder what that will be like?

Caitlin grinned at the reproach in Eliza’s voice, “Just wanted to confirm.” She gave a sharp tug on Red’s leash, in response to a muted snort from Red. Red squeaked at the sudden movement, “I’ve let the two blondes go. BondCon will sort out their releases, though I’ve ensured they’ll be the last of the Sinner’s Row to leave. But I’m going to hang onto this one for a while. She seems rather eager to explore,” Caitlin shrugged, “And I rather like having a ginger around to beat as needed. Perhaps I’ll take her on the road with me while Jem stays with you.”

She gave the leash another jerk as Red was midway through another teasing wiggle behind her, “Some private one on one time ought to cement the lessons she’s learned here.” Red gave another squeak as she staggered, and began ‘mmph’ing’ in quick agreement when Caitlin looked at her for a moment.

Eliza nodded, like this conversation was the most normal one in the world to be having in a hotel lobby, “Well she isn’t a complete waste of time.” The tone gave the words some added warmth. Caitlin raised an eyebrow but, probably wisely, left it there. With a twitch of her leashes, and a brief wave to Eliza, she turned away.

Red managed a final wave at the both of us before being pulled away. I found myself oddly apprehensive. I actually hoped that Caitlin wouldn’t go too hard on her, that some of that spirit was still around. I shook my head a little. A few days ago she had tried to kidnap me from my Mistress, my original kidnapper, and now I wanted her punishment to go easy. Gah.

I huffed a sigh at my internal oddities, and Eliza gave a slight grin, “She can be a bit much sometimes, hmmm?”

Any further thoughts or response I might have had to that were cut short as she gave my leash another tug, “Now we are getting out of here, slave. Heel.”

I burbled along behind her, casting sidelong glances at convention goers and staff members. Apparently I was just slightly famous as I received some waves, smiles, and a few appreciative glances of my own. By the time we had crossed the lobby and were exiting the hotel my face was flaming red. Bloody hell.

Eliza looked back at me as we began making our way over to her car. She grinned a little seeing my flush, but was evidently eager enough to be headed home to save any ‘I told you so’ for later. We got to the car without incident and I lugged the bag into the trunk, along with the rest. I shuffled over to the seat and settled myself down.

Eliza leaned over me, attaching my ankle restraints to the seat, my wrist chain to my ankle chain, and then giving me a quick peck on the nose. I grinned at that around my gag.

“Alright Davey, lights out time for you.” She held up the blacked out sunglasses and I gave an accepting nod. She fitted them around my head, plunging me into near darkness, with only the edges allowing light in. A few moments later she was settling into her own seat, and bringing the car roaring to life. I gave a happy little sigh and settled back for the drive home.

The motion of the car as it settled into a steady driving rhythm partially lulled me into a sort of half awake consciousness. Also helped that I had no visual stimuli to interest me and keep me awake. Just my own little world. And Eliza’s hand which, as she drove, would settle every now and then onto my thigh. Every time I would give her a happy little grunt into my gag and wiggle my hips as best I could.

She left the windows down this time as she drove, and I enjoyed the play of the breeze over my face. That, the warm sun, and her own gentle touches soon had me drifting off even further, letting me exist in a wonderful sort of suspended awareness. Much like our journey out to BondCon, I had a fuzzy notion of time passing, but had no idea how long it actually took to make the drive home. A few times I thought Eliza spoke, though it didn’t seem as though she was talking to me, and it wasn’t enough to lift me out of my half-dream world.

Eventually I felt the roads noticeably change underneath the car, which shook me a bit. I recognized the feel. We were almost…home. I grinned a little around my gag at the thought. How far I had come to think this was home. Back when Eliza had first snatched me I had wanted nothing more than to end what seemed to be a nightmare. Even after my escape attempt was brutally thwarted, and I buckled under her dominion, I had still harboured some hope to eventually flee. But somewhere along the line, with Eliza training me at home, and then rescuing me and papering me at BondCon, that had…changed. Not just when she had invited me in to share the bath with her. It wasn’t just knowing I couldn’t escape and giving in, it was actually wanting to stay. To be near her. With her.

Gaaah. My brain really does go to mush. I gave a slight snort through my gag, and Eliza’s hand on my thigh gave me a small squeeze in response,

“Just about home Davey.” I could hear the relief in her voice. I blinked behind my glasses. I guess I hadn’t realized just how much BondCon must have taken out of her. I squirmed a little, thinking of how much she had done to protect me, and make sure I was able to enjoy the convention. My wonderful Mistress was clearly ready for a break.

 Moments later I heard the distinct crunch of gravel under the car that announced we had found the lane leading up to the main entrance. I gave a happy trill into my gag and got a soft laugh from Eliza at my vocal pleasure at returning. She guided the car smoothly in, and parked. The sunglasses were slipped off my face, and I was greeted with my Mistress’ smiling face. She ran a hand along my jawline,

“Let’s get inside little one.”

This time I was responsible for dragging all of the bags back inside the house, rather than when we were leaving and she was ensuring I would be surprised. I managed it in three loads, my chains tinkling as I moved. Eliza stood off to the side, watching me with a slightly bemused grin as I tried to load up as much as I could with every trip. I made it without any incidents of falling though, probably because I wasn’t also in my normal heeled boots that she loved to see me in. That certainly helped when negotiating several large bags through a door at once.

Once safely inside, and all items piled neatly up in the front hall, Eliza stepped around in front of me with a small armful of leather restraints. With short quick movements she unlocked all of my chained restraints, letting them fall in a tinkling pile in front of me.

“Strip.”

I obeyed quickly, shucking my pants and shirt, and placing them with the rest of the baggage. A few more moments and I was standing naked before her, save for the chastity cage and my collar and gag. Eliza gave a brief nod of approval, and then began buckling me into my normal house bondage. Wrist and ankle cuffs were buckled on, locked, and then chains connecting wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle were attached. A leather belt was then snugly fitted to me, and additional chains were locked between each cuff and the belt. She stepped back for a moment, running a quick but thorough glance over my restraints, and giving a tired nod,

“Alright Davey. Get my bag and follow me.”

I turned and picked up her personal bag and then she stepped in close, snapped a leash to my collar, and pulled me after her up the stairs.

My plug vibrated away at a pleasant and not overly intensive level. I was with her after all, and she hadn’t reimposed the vibrating barriers to my access for upstairs generally. I had, after all, been cleaning the whole bloody house before we left. Though if she decided to step outdoors I was fairly confident the plug would let me know in no uncertain terms that I was to remove myself back to the kitchen and living room until she returned.

But up the stairs we went, with her tugging insistently on the leash to hurry me along. She moved quickly down the hallway, with me shuffling quickly behind her carrying her baggage. She eneterd her bedroom, and for the briefest moment I froze on the threshold, remembering the sheer vibrating volume that could await me. But a tug from the leash pulled me over, and I breathed a small muted sigh of relief. One could never be totally sure she didn’t have a surprise like that waiting for me. Eliza loved to keep me on my toes that way.

I felt the leash drop against me, and I blinked in surprise as she kept right on moving and collapsed face first onto her bed. The mounded covers and pillows seemed to just swallow her up, with her two booted feet sticking out haphazardly over the edge of the bed. I almost, almost, laughed at the sight of it. I carefully approached the bed, and gently placed her bag down. An arm emerged from the tangle of blankets that had seemingly eaten my Mistress and gave a desultory sort of wave in the general direction of the door,

“Go make like a slave and clean up.” Her voice was muzzy with exhaustion, “Mistress needs a nap.” She gave a soft sigh, “And then I’ll order us some food for a quiet little night in, ok?” The last words were both muffled like they were being said into a pillow and almost plaintive. I felt my heart give a bit of a lurch at the tone, but nothing else emerged from the blanket pile, apart from her gentle breathing.

I stood there for a moment, not quite knowing what to do. My thoughts from the car flashed back through my mind. The entire experience at BondCon, and the borderline unbelievable experience of going from kidnapping victim to…something…more. Something that involved some deeply locked feelings for her. She was my mistress, yes. Kidnapper, most definitely. Owner? Yup. But also my protector. My safe place. And yeah, my Mistress. It wasn’t really until BondCon though, until I had seen that fiery, fierce protective side of her that this had crystallized within me. Hell, I still couldn’t quite believe that she could feel that way about me. Even after that first dungeon day, even after all the little talks, and heart to hearts, and her just being…her. How could someone like Eliza truly care that much about me?

But she did. And she had taken me out, in public, and done as much as she could to just shower me in bondage games and fun. Despite the real risk she had though she was running that I would try to escape. Despite all the things that could have gone wrong, and in some cases nearly had.

I felt a bit of a burning sensation around my eyes as I stared at (roughly) where I thought she was under all those blankets. She deserved thanking. Properly, thanking her. I held my position for another few moments, trying to think of something I could accomplish, and then realized. Dinner. Yes. That was something I could do.

She deserved thanking.

I exited the room, shutting the door behind me, as quietly as I could with the tinkling chains announcing my discreet retreat. I made my way to kitchen, and started searching the pantry and fridge for options. I had never been a particularly good cook in terms of the breadth of options I could prepare before this. But that was one of many skills Eliza had ensured I developed under her demanding expectations. While she was often enough the cook and I the cleaner, I had been trained in preparing a selection of meals for days just like this when she was too busy or tired. Very rapidly I settled on making pasta. It would be easy enough for that bit, and let me show off one of my few native cooking skills that I had had before she grabbed me. I could make one of the best damned prepared from scratch sauces. Thick with blended veggies and meat, and nicely spiced. Almost a meal in and of itself.

Soon enough I had the sauce and pasta steaming merrily away on top of the oven, while I scurried about the kitchen, trying to pretty up the table. I found a deep red table cloth and laid that out, as well as a pair of nice, thick candles. I swept and dusted and generally made the kitchen as spotless as I could. There would be no bloody filth here for tonight.

A few hours later, with the cleaning done, and the food settling in several large bowls that I fixed onto the table, I laid out her place, with the exacting attention to detail that had been drilled into me. More than that though, I wanted this to be perfect. I had to be careful at this final stage, as the scents of food wafted over me, to control the level of my head and mouth, lest any drool escape to spatter. Fortunately, with some not quite comfortable head positions, I managed to avoid that.

I stepped back for a moment to survey the dining table and prepared meal, and then carefully began making my way back up to Eliza. As I began climbing the stares I gave a moan into my gag, as my buttplug began to slowly ratchet up in its vibrations. Bloody hell. It must have automatically shifted to in-house mode with her going to sleep. Or maybe she had flipped it over before bed. I gave my head a shake as I reached the top of the stairs. Getting her attention from outside the bedroom was probably not going to work, so this would be…hell my insides were going to get a workout.

I began to pant as I got closer to her door, the plug telling me in no uncertain terms that I really should not be up here. I growled into my gag at that. Fuck. No. This was…gaaaaaaaah…important.

I poked her door open with a toe, shifting back and forth and moaning just about non-stop now into my gag. Eliza didn’t seem to have moved from her position. Two boots still stuck out haphazardly from the bed, and the mounded blankets and pillows still otherwise completely obscured her from my sight. I gave a moaning sigh and, with my face tightened up with resolve, softly entered the room. My plug immediately kicked up two notches in vibration, forcing me to halt just inside the door with my teeth clenched tight around my gag.

“MMMmmmmph!” I gave a solid grunt.

Eliza’s head rose out of the blanket sea like some sort of majestic sea creature, somehow managing to look regal and elegant in what for anyone else would have been bleary curiosity.

She turned towards me, her feet kicking partly free from the blankets, “Hungry?” A smile tugged at her mouth as she saw me mincing around near the door. She leaned back to rummage behind her, and I let out a heartfelt sigh of relief as the plug inside me slowly wound down its frantic vibrations to a more manageable level. I looked back to her, and shuffled slowly forward.

“Mmmph? Hmmm grggghh mmmm!”

She cocked her head a little to one side with a questioning look. I reached the bed and gestured back towards the door.

“I can order the food just fine from bed, slave.”

I gave a firm shake of my head, and emphatically gestured towards the door. She arched an eyebrow at me.

“Excuse me Davey, are you giving me attitude?”

“Mnnooohh Mifftressffhh. Pweaaassshhhh.” I bent forward to dangle my leash in front of her, which she delicately took hold of. I pleaded at her with my eyes, and paced back a couple of steps towards the door, giving her a plaintive look, so that the leash became taut and gave a tug towards the door.

She looked at me again, the touch of irritation fading back to curiosity at my antics. She raised herself fully up to a sitting position and considered me for a moment. I found I couldn’t hold still, through the combination of plug vibrations, her looking at me, and trepidation over whether she would like the dinner I had made. She gave a world weary sigh, but flashed an exasperated smile at me all the same,

“You’re lucky you’re so bloody cute sometimes Davey.” She gave a fond sort of tug on the leash.

I gave a happy trill into my gag at that, and gestured again for her to follow me. I led her out of the room, the leash comfortably tight behind me as I pulled her along. I turned around to look at her as we neared the stairs and I caught an odd sort of expression on her face as she watched me. That smile was still there, but the eyes held something I couldn’t quite describe. The smile was enough for me though, and I gave another happy grunt into the gag before carefully making my way down the stairs. I waited for her at the bottom, and then began insistently tugging her towards the kitchen.

“Yes Davey, I know. You’ve probably done a wonderful job an--.”

She cut off as I pulled her into the kitchen, and I heard a soft, and extraordinarily quiet gasp. She looked at the set table, the candles, and the slave-cooked meal steaming there. Her plate I had already filled with pasta and sauce, a feast fit for a queen. Or Mistress.

“Oh…Davey.” I felt a hand grip my collar from behind, and spin me around. Then her lips were forcefully pressed into mine, one hand tight behind my head and the other clutching my rear. I moaned into her kiss through the gag. She broke it off just long enough to pull the ballgag free and then her lips were back, pressing wonderfully into my own.

I settled my restrained hands gently onto her hips, and gave another moan as her hand on my rear grabbed it tighter.

“Such a good boy,” she whispered as she pulled back a little, a smile firmly fixed on her face, “My good boy.”

I flushed and tried to gesture at the table with one of my hands, getting it yanked short, “I just…I just wanted to thank you…for everything.” I turned back, feeling the flush becoming a flaming crimson blush, and managed a soft, “thank you, Mistress.”

Her eyes were dancing in front of me as I said that, above her smile, and she pulled me into an embrace, her lips brushing across mine again, and then finding my ear, “Well chef, let’s see if your cooking tastes as good as it smells, hmmm?”

I nodded against her shoulder, giving a little moan.

“That…ooooooo…that would be g-good Mistress.”

She strode regally across to her seat and settled herself down. She waited as I eased myself down onto my knees at her feet, and smiled down at me, my leash held casually in her hand. She rolled some noodles and sauce up and took a slow bite, savouring the rush of flavour.

“Mmmmmm.” She looked down and nodded appreciatively, “Very well done. I see this will have to be a more regular thing.” I ducked my eyes a bit, thrilling at her words.

She spooned up another mouthful, and turned partly to me, “One for me, one for you slave.”

I leaned forward, my mouth opening to accept the proffered food. I felt…good. At peace with this.

I was home.