Morning Greeting

I’ve said that my current fantasies have been trapped in a groove of late.

They are also trite as Hell; hence I haven’t felt like spelling them out. But I’m in the mood to type. This is likely to work out to a series of very short notes.

Every scenario has a zillion variations as my imagination yanks me this way and that (annoying how undisciplinable fantasies can be).

Maybe my owner comes to me where I’ve been locked up for the night. Or to a certain spot in the house where I’m required to wait until my owner arises. Or I’m performing some assigned task.

Instantly I drop to my knees. Kiss each boot (foot, shoes) once. Lower my head to within an inch or two of the floor and beg my owner that I be permitted to serve another day as a slave.

And wait: for permission to rise, orders.

Sexual service, a degrading breakfast or assignment of chores may follow. The choice isn’t mine.