Today is my slave's birthday, or at least I think it is. I'm not really sure because he's not important enough for me to remember these types of things. However, I received a reminder on my phone that today was significant for him, so I figured I should at least acknowledge the occasion.
I call out to him while he's washing dishes in the kitchen and in an instant, he comes crawling on all fours towards me. His head is down, and he looks like a lost puppy waiting for its master to punish it. It's almost cute, in a way.
"Get over here, boy," I say to him with a smirk.
He does as he's told and approaches me quickly. I can tell he's expecting me to scold him or something similar, but I have other plans.
"So, Turner," I begin, using my pet name for him. "They say it's someone's birthday today, huh?"
He nods nervously, confirming my suspicions.
"Well, since it's your special day, I think I'll be generous," I tell him, feigning kindness.
I watch as his eyes light up momentarily before realizing the truth. I chuckle to myself, knowing that he still has no idea what I have in store for him.
"Don't worry, Turner," I console him. "I didn't order a cake for you, but don't worry, I've got a special idea."
I take a candle from a nearby drawer and wave it in front of his face. His eyes widen in confusion, not understanding what's happening.
"A cake made by me," I say, laughing at his gullibility. "Sure, I baked you a cake. In a... unique way."
I make him lie down on the floor, surprisingly acquiescent to my every command. Maybe this will be an interesting day after all.
"Now, I'll grant you the privilege of licking my ass," I tell him, knowing how much he enjoys that particular activity. "Think of it as the cake you're about to receive."
He hesitates for a moment, unsure of whether he should comply or not. But then he remembers who he's dealing with and doesn't want to upset me. So, he obeys my command, his tongue already moistening his lips.
I stand over him, watching as he gets into position. My heart races with excitement knowing what's about to happen.
"Open wide," I tell him, my voice commanding.
He does as he's told, and I place the tip of the candle on his tongue. With a flick of my wrist, I light it up, and there it is - my cake for him. It's not exactly what he expected, but it's a cake nonetheless.
I kneel down next to him, taking in the sight of him with my masterpiece in his mouth. It feels strange, almost like a moment of pride.
"Sing with me," I say, my voice soft but firm.
Together, we sing "Happy Birthday" while he's still holding the candle in his mouth. It's surreal, almost beautiful.
Once we finish singing, I lean back on my heels and watch as he savors every last bite of my divine creation. But this moron doesn't seem to appreciate my efforts and starts vomiting half of what he's eaten.
"You don't waste a single bit of the Mistress's cake!" I shout, furious.
I grab him by his hair and drag him over to a mirror, forcing him to look at himself. His face is covered in vomit and shit, and it disgusts me.
"Clean it up," I say through gritted teeth. "Every last bit. And you'd better enjoy every bite because the Mistress's cake is never wasted."
With that, I storm out of the room, leaving him there with strict orders to finish every last bit before I return. I know he'll do as he's told; after all, he knows better than to cross me.
