preferredmodeofpain:

diner

My owner and I will often go out to lunch. We’re both of a reasonably chubby size, and we enjoy settling down and talking almost as much as we like eating. My owner also likes breakfast foods. A lot. She almost always orders breakfast foods when it’s on the menu. (I’ve only seen her once forgo breakfast foods for lunch foods.) With breakfast, she enjoys coffee.

The very first time I noticed her drinking coffee, I noticed how she took it. She pours in the entire amount of creamer with three sugars. The next time we went out, I grabbed the creamer and poured it in, along with sugar, for her. It was something that I explored with someone else five years ago, the idea of a service slave.

It’s a small thing I can do for her that makes sure she gets enjoyment from something, and no one around us is any the wiser as to the dynamic we have. I’m doing the work, and she’s reaping all of the benefits of said work, but the work and her enjoyment are my rewards.

I think I just stumbled across a very basic fact of what I get out of serving. My work, and her enjoyment of my work, are my rewards.

Of course, my masochism is almost purely seflish. Pain feels good.