In the shower, I knelt at Master's feet after soaping his upper body. He began to aim, and I held my breasts up to him.
It was cold, kneeling in the tub. Cold and smelly. I still felt lucky to be allowed to wash him. I soaped his legs and feet, his balls, his dick, between his legs. My butt was stinging from the caning it had just received, and cunt may have still dripped from his deposit there. (Ha ahahaha- cunt as sperm bank!)
Master mentioned that he needed to haul some wood later on.
I must have given him a funny look, because he said "Stop thinking in the gutter, slut, I mean firewood!"
But really, truly, all I was thinking about was whether he was going to make me haul firewood in the frigid cold too!
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