Worshipping (Part 3)

Something remarkable happens to me, when i let down my guard.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does…

There i knelt, naked but for the collar and short leash He had placed on me.   i’d been bathing His boot with my tongue.  i’d been so intent on my task that i hadn’t noticed Him lean over me.  Gently, His hand touched my head, stroking my hair.

“Good boy.”

i felt so many things when He said that.  Pleased, grateful, perhaps a bit proud.

“Take off my boots.”

i sat back, on my haunches, head bowed, focused on untying His left boot.  Once untied, i gently lifted His leg until i could pull the boot off.  Once it was in my hand, i risked looking up at Him.  He was watching me, knowing what it was i wanted.  A small smile played on His lips, and He nodded – ever so slightly.  i slowly drew His boot to my nose, inhaling once, twice.  my chest felt full of His scent.  Before i could get too distracted, i placed His boot off to the side, repeating the process with His right boot.

“Now the socks.”

i gently pulled up His left foot, once again, removing the sock, feeling the hair of His bare leg under my hands.  As i went to set it aside, He held out his Hand.

“Give it here.”

Once securely in his grasp, i reached for the other foot.  

Before i could touch it, i felt His hand gently on my check, my jaw, raising my face to look at Him.  In His hand was the one, well warn sock. 

“Open your mouth.”

Without reservation, i opened.

He placed the point of the sock on my tongue.

“Close.”

It rested on my tongue, in my mouth.

“Now take off the next one.”

i was beginning to feel overwhelmed, awash in His scents and His taste.  Once the second sock was off, He had me sit back, hands behind me.  i was struck by the resemblance of my pose to that of a dog, trained or begging.  i sat their quietly while He looked at me.

“You’re my good boy, aren't you?” It was a rhetorical question.  i was whatever He would have me be.

He reached toward me – hands going to my chest, rather than my face.  i felt the contact of His skin against mine, realizing how warm i’d become.  He stroked down my chest, pausing at each nipple.  Playing with the jewelry He found there.  Gently, stroking.  Slightly twisting.  Little jolts of sensation going to my groin.

Stroking lower, across my stomach towards my dick – my dick that was hard, so hard.  He stopped short of touching it.  Watching my face, as my eye lids dropped, while i was immersed in sensation.

He moved away from me, sitting back on the bench.  His withdrawal opens my eyes, afraid I’ve done something wrong.  He’s still smiling at me. 

“Help Me with the rest of my clothes, boy.”