He slowly folds onto the ground, legs closing, ankle to buttock as he rests before the computer.  Leaning forward onto all fours, his head touches the ground beside his hands.

 

Kneeling before Her is... powerful. Doing it, I feel a range of emotions that I don't tend to connect very often. Perhaps the most overpowering at times is heat... in a sense as a slave feeling heat to serve.  Junk, Trunk, and Belly... all ache gently.  My breathing quickens, shorter and shallower, The hairs on my arms stand on end.   I feel also that I am doing something for Her, something personal and special, for Her. 

 

It is important for me to feel like I am serving Her, rather than feeling I am simply indulged in my slave-life fantasy.  Kneeling is perhaps only a little thing, in the grand scheme, but for me it shows me I am Hers - Her owned beast, behaving as She chooses.    In these precious minutes, kneeling for Her, I do imagine what it would be like if we were to ever meet.  It is an indulgence I know will probably never bear fruit, thought the ideas are quite enjoyable.