As I sit at the head of the table, dressed in a delicate pastel dress that hangs loosely off my voluptuous frame, I survey the scene before me. My pet, Kitten, has prepared my dinner meticulously. A beautifully arranged platter of broccoli, cauliflower, and cheese casserole awaits me.
"Bring it to me," I call out, my voice as sweet and enticing as wildflower honey. Kitten steps forward nervously, his eyes fixed on me eagerly. As he reaches the table, he kneels before me respectfully, his head bowed in submission. It's always such a heartwarming sight to see him in this position.
"You may serve," I murmur, my lips curling into a seductive smile. With shaking hands, Kitten reaches for the platter of food and places it in front of me on the table. He watches intently as I take a bite of the steaming, cheesy goodness.
I chew slowly, savoring the taste of the vegetables. I know how deprived Kitten has been from them over the years. He looks up at me, his eyes full of longing and admiration. He can't help but crave the sustenance that comes from my body. After all, he has fed off me for so long now.
"Kitten," I say softly, my voice dripping with desire. "You must understand that you need this. You've neglected yourself for far too long." His gaze drifts down to the table, and he sighs heavily. He knows I'm right. He's weak, and he needs the nourishment I can provide.
Suddenly, he caves in from the weakness. He crumples to the floor, his entire body shaking like a leaf. I let out a small giggle, amused by his frailty. "You're so tiny and weak," I taunt, watching as he cowers before me. "It's pathetic."
Angry now, I stomp my foot hard against the floor, and Kitten jumps visibly. "Get up, slave!" I hiss through clenched teeth. "I didn't raise you to be weak!" His face contorts in pain as he struggles to stand back on his shaking legs.
Reluctantly, Kitten returns to his seat position. He looks up at me, tears welling in his eyes. He knows he's disappointed me, and it hurts him. I take a moment to compose myself, smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress. "When you've regained your composure," I say evenly, "you may continue holding up your end of our bargain."
He nods quickly, his face still blotchy from crying. Slowly, he raises himself back onto his feet and returns to his position underneath me. The weight of my body presses down on him once more, and he winces, determined to hold on despite the pain.
I see the determination in his eyes and can't help but soften a little. "You know," I begin tentatively, "you haven't eaten any of your dinner yet." He looks up at me, his eyes widening in surprise. "I'll tell you what," I continue, smiling sweetly. "After you finish holding me up, I'll let you eat your meal. And if it's clean when you're done, just like mine is now, I'll even let you eat off my plate."
Kitten's eyes light up at the thought. It's been so long since he's had anything resembling a treat. He nods eagerly, and with a renewed sense of purpose, he struggles to hold me up once more. I watch him closely, making sure he doesn't collapse again.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I stand up, satisfied that he's held me up long enough. "You've done well, pet," I coo, running my fingers through his hair affectionately. He sighs with relief as the weight disappears from his shoulders.
As he sits down to eat his dinner, I remove my underwear and place his bowl on the floor in front of him. "Eat up, Kitten," I command gently, gesturing towards the mess on the floor. "Your mistress is very generous tonight."
I stand back and watch as he leans in dutifully, taking in the strong scent of my ass-juice laced food. His lips curl around the edge of the bowl, and he begins to eat. I can't help but smile as I watch him savor every bite.
While he eats, I slip back into my throne-like chair and admire my own clean plate. The sight fills me with a sense of satisfaction and pride. My pet may have prepared this meal, but it's been through my body and transformed into something much more valuable.
