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youthfuldominance:

Patiently waiting for his Sir to come home. Not simply because the boy is horny, but because he adores his Sir and misses him. Submission need not be highly sexual. It is a devotion to another. It can be a form of love.  

Henry has his own spots around the house, his pillow in the living room, his futon next to Sir’s bed, his customary spot under the table, but this one is his favorite. The view isn’t much, just the porch railings and some buildings outside but it’s the sounds that matter. Here is the only spot where he can hear Sir’s bicycle as it comes down the alley to the garage. There are a lot of bikes in Amsterdam but over months Henry learned to distinguish the sound of tires and brakes and pick his Sir out of them all. The anticipation is the best part, both the waiting for the right sound with his head tilted and the long seconds between Sir putting his bike away in the mudroom and coming up the stairs. Henry will bound to the door, wiggling and turning in impatient circles.

All those hours apart have left the sub missing his Sir and so eager to see him again. The house is clean, rugs beaten, dinner prep is done, the plants are watered, there’s fresh sheets on the bed and so many other little things. Henry just wants to feel a heavy hand on his head and those short nails scratching his scalp behind his ear and be told what a good boy he is.

When Sir comes through the door he presses himself up against his slacks and nuzzles his crotch murmuring a “Welcome home Sir”, oblivious to his cock dripping all over his shoe. The new jockstrap helps with the leaking, but only so much when he gets excited. Henry is kept locked so often, he often forgets about it until he’s forced to lick the mess off his Sir’s Oxfords. He often hopes his Sir will give him an opportunity to pleasure him but Sir says a horny boy is an obedient one. Henry understands, but he hasn’t been exercised yet today and is full of energy and cum and joy that his Master is home so he’s a bit hard to control. Luckily, Sir always knows what to do.

“I’m home boy, hello. Woah, hello!” he caresses his sub’s head, “Down boy. Down. Good boy. Now, go to the bedroom and get on the bed position 2. You can lick my shoes clean later, I’m horny as hell!” he commanded as he loosened his tie.
“Yes sir!” Henry is gone in a flash.

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I exhale in mourning at the destroyed bed scene, still warm but no longer habitable. This is what happens when you adopt a Great Dane pup and don’t get up early enough. They get bored and bring you their favorite toy to play, but when you don’t wake up they snuggle up with you and of course doze off. In their desperate need to cuddle, you end up pushed out onto the floor. Awakening to the sensation of falling out of bed and hitting the floor with a smack was a rude experience, but I just cannot be furious at my big troublemaker. I know, I should drag him out and scold him with a swat but instead I want to rub his bel  – wait, where the hell did his collar go? Did I not put it back on after the bath last night? Christ, he was filthy after playing rugby at that meet-up.

A yawn escapes my mouth. I will not let my pup run the house. Take up the whole mattress, will you now? I crawl back into my bed and push him onto his back, then splay out on top of him, ignoring the jut of his sternum and pelvic bones. I use his shoulder as a pillow and pull the comforter up to my neck. He whines and squirms at my mass and we have a bit of a tussle. Eventually, we end up spooning side by side, my arms wrapped around his chest. He pushes his butt up against my crotch and then stills in rest again. I throw a leg over his thigh and grind back. Great, now I’m half horny and half asleep. His ass is going to take the full brunt of the punishment for this when I wake up later. I ghost my fingers over his abs as I too drift back into slumber.

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I’d finally gotten on medication for my depression, but I still wasn’t leaving the house much. In a gesture of support, my friends at the leather club decided to get me a puppy. At sure I was hesitant because pups are a lot of work. After just a week of owning one though, I began to enjoy having his needs to focus on instead of mine own. My therapist did say that having a routine was important.

Every morning, the pup would wake me up by jumping on the bed; he’d cuddle the hell outta me while rubbing his whiskers against my shoulder. He had to be let out to relieve himself and walked before breakfast, so normally he’d bring me the leash too. Once, I clipped the leash on and fell back asleep. A few minutes later I woke up again because he was making the mattress bounce. I forced open an eye and saw him sitting there, bright eyed and eager, leash in mouth and ready to go. Christ, he was adorable. I cracked a smile for the first time in weeks. “Alright, alright,” I threw off the blanket, “You win.”

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