The dinner is ready.

The oven beeps and I open the door. I poke the potatoes and check that they're done. The ribs still need a little more time: I brush them with a bit more sauce and let them finish with the residual heat. No need for me to be on top of it, dinner is almost ready.

I check the time: my Owner is about to arrive. I take off my apron and that leaves me naked. I'm always naked, except in the kitchen, it's one of His rules. I take a quick walk around the house. I straighten the bedsheets a bit, place a couple of cushions, make sure everything is in order. My duty is to ensure His house is perfect and few things give me more pleasure.

At the entrance, I check my appearance. I am also one of his possessions, so I have to be perfect. I'm slim and fit, the result of a strict exercise routine I follow religiously. In my butt, I have a jeweled plug that I put in every afternoon after the corresponding cleaning. In the front, hang my swollen balls and a tiny cock, barely a pinky finger in a resting state. I'm completely shaved, thanks to laser. I look like what I am: a 22-year-old boy, immaculate, pure.

I position myself at the entrance on all fours, with my butt raised and kissing the floor. I estimate there are about 15 or 20 minutes left before He arrives. Not only do I enjoy waiting for Him on the floor, it's another of His orders. The thought of Him arriving and me not waiting for Him terrifies me; I don't want to disappoint Him. Those moments of silence on the floor allow me to reorder my thoughts and calm down.

I hear noise outside. Again, I start to get nervous. He's about to arrive. The sound of a conversation filters in as He opens the door. I only hear the last part:

—...a man like you deserves a good woman to accompany him —says one of the elderly neighbors across the street, whose voice I recognize.

—Thank you for your attention, Madam, but I have everything I need. Good night —says Ricardo, He, my Owner.

Just hearing Him already gets me excited even though I haven't seen Him because I'm still with my head resting on the floor. He closes the door and I hear two steps approaching me, a sign that it's my turn. He stops and His shoes come into my field of vision. I devoutly kiss each of them, then I lift my head, look at Him, and say:

—Good evening, Master.

—Good evening, slut.

A shiver of pleasure always runs through me when He calls me that. I have little time, but I still allow myself to glance at Him. He's 50 years old, more than double my age. Perfectly trimmed beard, a rugged, tough face, but with soft cheeks occasionally showing a mocking smile. He towers over me about twenty centimeters and fifty kilos. The suit covers him up well, but it suits him. Underneath, I know there are strong legs, a prominent belly, and a lot of hair. Despite his weight, he is rather burly, and his size gives him a self-assuredness that I find so attractive...

Before I get lost in my thoughts, I snap out of it and avoid a punishment. I obediently stand up and help Him remove his jacket, being careful not to wrinkle it. He walks into the living room and sits in his usual armchair. I like that He doesn't even have to tell me anything, that I'm just another one of His tools. I know the routine so well that questions are unnecessary. I go to the minibar, pour a glass, and serve two fingers of his favorite whisky. I hand it to Him along with a napkin and I kneel at His feet.

As soon as I hear Him take the first sip, I remove His shoes. I do it slowly, trying to cause the minimum inconvenience. It took me a long time to learn to do this elegantly, and believe me, it's difficult. The socks are much easier, but first I have to smell them. They are executive-style and retain the day's sweat. I inhale, but without making an unpleasant sound. I kiss them with the same devotion I showed towards the shoes and then remove them as well. And there are His feet. Everything else is fine, but what really drives me crazy is this. They are big, hairy, and sweaty. I take care of massaging them, moisturizing them, and doing the proper pedicure every day. They are perfect, and I must pamper them while my Owner finishes his drink.

As always, I lose track of time while I kiss, lick, clean, and revere His feet. I do this several times a day and I never get enough. When He removes them from my mouth, I know I have to stop and I kneel, waiting for His orders.

—Get ready for inspection —He orders, and I get on all fours.

I feel his hand caressing my butt, until he spanks it hard. Being in this submissive position makes me feel so helpless, like an object to Him... He plays with the plug and without any care, removes it, undoubtedly observing the hole it must have left in my behind. Since it's not very large, it closes up quickly, inviting him to enter, which he does, slipping one of his thick fingers in. A pleasure runs through me as he does so. The exploration doesn't last long: he touches my butt with his knuckles and then removes his hand, offering it to me to clean. He positions me so I'm in front of him and he can still see me on the floor.

—Have you completed your tasks?

—Yes, Master.

—Are you happy?

That question throws me off. Am I happy? How can I express it? How much my life has changed since this Man decided to adopt me and make me His. Still thinking about it, I receive a slap on the face, a punishment for not responding promptly.

—More than ever, Master —I finally reply, my face red.

—Undress me.

I get to work. I stand up and remove his pants and underwear. He leans to help me, but he doesn't lift a finger. Since he ordered me to undress him, I can't linger, even though I would love to smell those boxers. I carefully remove his clothing and place them neatly to avoid wrinkling. When he is naked, I allow myself to admire him. How can I not be happy when I have the fortune of worshipping this every day?

He sits back in the armchair and signals for me to approach. I know what I have to do. Our connection is so deep that he can give me commands with his eyes. I head towards his cock and lick my lips. Like the rest of his body, it is surrounded by hair, although neatly trimmed. I bend down and take in that scent. Without delay, I start by licking his balls, move up along the shaft, and finish by cleaning the head thoroughly. It's a normal size but very thick, which makes my jaw drop every time I take it in. I love it.

Just like everything else, I've learned to do it exactly as he likes it. First, I lubricate it entirely with my own saliva to make it easier to insert. Then I slowly start pushing it in until I touch the back and begin moving up and down in rhythm. I don't need to press hard, the cock fits snugly in my mouth. The key is the rhythm and varying the intensity. Occasionally, I take it out and focus on the tip or go down and lick his balls, but most of the time, my mouth acts as a hole. He places his hand on my head, and I stay still in case he wants to fuck my mouth. It doesn't seem like it, so I continue with my task. I never swallow saliva, so the cock remains lubricated and makes sounds that I know he likes. I also don't use my hands. Sluts don't use hands.

I keep sucking him off while looking at him. He has his eyes closed, enjoying my skills. He opens them, looks at me, and smiles. I smile, or rather, I try to smile with his cock in my mouth. Nothing pleases me more than feeling valued. He grabs my hair, spits on my face, and thrusts into my throat as I roll my eyes back. He suddenly pulls out and tells me:

—Bend over, slut.

I stand up and turn around. I spread my cheeks with my hands so he can see my tight hole since I've been without the plug for a while, and I approach his cock. I feel his glans rubbing against me. It's hard. I'm dying to feel it inside me. Struggling to relax, I sit on his cock. I feel his head trying to enter. It's not going to be easy. I bite my hand, concentrate, and he presses his cock against me. The glans enters, and with one thrust, he fills me entirely. I tremble with pain and stifle a scream. That's one of the things I learned from him: it should hurt initially when you're being fucked. I control my pulse as I feel my anus pulsating and widening. At least he hasn't started moving yet, sometimes he starts thrusting as soon as he penetrates me. But I like feeling like the whore he can fuck without more lubricant than his saliva.

Ignoring the pain for now, I start moving up and down on his cock. The position on top of him, but facing away, allows me to move with greater range of motion. My ass tightens against his pelvis every time I go down, and I like that the cock is always on the verge of slipping out when I go up. I enjoy it like a slut, although there's still a bit of pain. I love feeling him inside me, having my hole always available for him. I lean forward so that his cock rubs against my prostate, and I have pleasure spasms. This is the only moment of the day when he lets me cum of my own will, without touching myself, of course. When I'm really turned on, I can climax with his cock in my ass.

I focus on my pleasure while still fucking him until I feel his grunts. As soon as I see he's about to climax, I forget about my pleasure and milk him as best as I can. I squeeze, beat, and drain. I feel his cock swell and fill me with his cum. Sometimes I feel it inside me, but generally I notice he's climaxing by his breathing, how he grabs me, or because he tells me "I'm breeding you, slut." For me, there's nothing more beautiful than that. I enjoy the last throbs of his cock. I've missed my chance to cum, again, but that doesn't matter. He is satisfied. What more could I ask for. In total, it must have lasted about ten minutes. That's how he is: he fucks me until he finishes. Sometimes for longer, and others, like today, only to use me as a hole. I love that he only thinks of his satisfaction.

I carefully remove myself, feeling my ass widening, staying open. He has broken me once more. A drop of cum falls on it. Without wasting time, he puts the plug back in my ass. It's so stretched out that I have to make an effort to keep it from coming out. I turn around and clean his cock. It's not a blowjob; it's just cleaning. It took several punishments to learn that lesson. I clean his cock, lick the head, and also swallow some of his cum. Sometimes after cleaning him, he lets me eat his ass. He relaxes like that. Not today. He gets up and leaves me in the living room, sweaty, with a sore ass but well-covered by the plug.

I hear the shower, and I resume my duties. I gather the clothes. The dirty ones go into the laundry, the clean ones are put away. I go to the kitchen, put the potatoes in the oven, and start heating everything up. I tidy up in the guest bathroom, turned into a service bathroom, in other words, my bathroom. There's no time to shower, but it's not necessary because he likes me smelling like Him after he has fucked me. I carefully set the table: a plate, a napkin, a glass, a knife, and a fork. When in doubt, only he dines. I sometimes eat on the floor or in the kitchen when I clean up. At the table, never.

I've already opened the bottle of wine and taken the dishes out of the oven when he appears in the dining room, dressed in his bathrobe. I announce the dinner dishes for tonight and seat him. One of the things he insisted on when he adopted me was that he wanted a first-class butler. I stand by, waiting for his orders, but without obstructing his field of vision.

Dinner is silent, and I make sure to refill his glass whenever needed. There are a couple of potatoes and ribs left on the plate along with some bread. He indicates he's finished, I pull his chair back, and he leaves. I stay behind, tidying up. I clean the table and take everything to the kitchen, including his plate, which will be my dinner. Even though I always make plenty of food, he always feeds me his leftovers. I eat quickly, clean everything up, and go back to the living room. He's distracted watching TV.

I approach him and kneel at his feet. I don't know what he'll command me to do, whether it's applying lotion, if he feels like hitting me, if he'll use me as a footrest, or if he wants me to cuddle against him. In any case, I will obey.

I am his slave, his servant, his whore.

He is the reason for my existence.