I was gutted. What was supposed to be a night of worship involving hours of physical contact with my Princess had now been taken away from me, all because I had been unable to control my urges. I had managed to go for around three months without masturbating; I thought I had cracked it but for some reason I just gave in to the primal urge the other morning after my Princess had left for work. Of course, all I thought about during masturbation was my Princess and how confident, beautiful and superior she is, but that does not diminish the offence.
I apologised profusely for my behaviour, whilst kneeling next to her and kissing her leg. I promised I wouldn't do it again. I asked to be allowed to make it up to her by working as hard as possible all afternoon, in the hope that she would let me pamper her later.
"You just carry on, and we'll see" was her reply.
Needless to say, I immediately turned into a very efficient housework machine, hoovering, mopping, dusting, scrubbing, washing, hanging and ironing, for several hours. My Princess was in the house the whole time but didn't help at all. I think she has finally realised the power she has over me. She has also accepted her place in the relationship - on top - and no longer feels guilty or lazy when I am toiling away around her.
Thankfully for me, my Princess took pity on me and allowed me to give her a bath after I had earned sufficient brownie points.
During the bath, she was a lot more demanding than usual. After I had spent a long time washing her hair. massaging her scalp, applying moisturiser, scrubbing her back, shaving her legs, armpits and pussy, she demanded I clean her asshole. This is something I always do anyway, but was never sure if she found it a bit too invasive. It was amazing though, actually being commanded to do it.
Imagine having so much power over someone, having them worship you so much, that their heart leaps with excitement at being ordered to clean their anus whilst they lay there relaxing. Beautiful.
After my Princess had dried herself she called me into the bedroom to moisturise her legs whilst she stood in front of the full-length mirror, towel-drying her lustrous hair. She had a perfect view of her servant, kneeling at her feet, stroking her legs and occasionally kissing her ass. It seemed like an act of deliberate belittlement and humiliation, making me do it in front of the mirror. There was no doubting the power structure in that tableau, and I could feel her eyes looking down upon me.
The whole time she was quite distant and frosty. She hates masturbation. I am lucky that she allowed me to serve her at all.