In the beginning, things were simpler.
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Back then, oral sex was worth ten points. A good, solid score enough to make it feel worth pursuing even on the days I wasn't particularly craving it. I still enjoyed it, of course I wasn't faking but there was always something transactional humming underneath the surface. I'd touch her in bed casually, softly tracing her thighs or slipping my hand under her shirt when she wasn't expecting it. We were equals then. I could be playful, even mischievous, coaxing her into letting me please her.
She always let me. And when I finished, satisfied that I'd earned my ten points, I'd often roll away, pleased with myself but not always thorough, not always reverent. Sometimes I forgot to clean her fully. Sometimes I'd rush to the bathroom to cool off my own arousal.
But now?
I no longer slide under the sheets hoping to "earn points."
Now, I kneel.
I don't touch her without permission. I wait. Watch. Crave.
There's no announcement, no rule that made me start kneeling before asking to please her. It just started one day after a series of other small rituals had already become part of me: calling her Mistress, keeping my eyes lowered, waiting for permission to speak.
One evening, without even thinking, I found myself lowering to my knees in front of her.
"Please, Mistress," I said softly. "May I taste you?"
She raised an eyebrow, not in mockery but in intrigue. Then she nodded and I dove in like a man starved.
It wasn't about points anymore. At least not just that. Something in me had shifted. Now, I savor her every sound she makes, every arch of her back, every pulse of her body under my tongue. I lap up every drop like it's holy. When she cums, I don't stop until she makes me. I don't move until she dismisses me.
And afterward, I clean her slowly, thoroughly. With my mouth. With care. With devotion.
She noticed.
She always notices.
Back then, when she played with herself in front of me, I used to take it as an open invitation. I would slide in beside her, kiss her neck, maybe slip a hand between her thighs. I wasn't just offering pleasure, I was claiming a part of it for myself. There was no hesitation, no protocol. Just hunger.
But now… now I kneel.
I wait.
I don't touch her unless she signals me to. I don't climb into her space like I used to. I lower my eyes and wait for her to beckon me forward like a privilege I have to earn.
And when she does, I worship her differently.
Back then, I never licked her asshole. It simply never occurred to me. But now… it feels natural. Expected. I don't even hesitate. My tongue finds every part of her with the same reverence. Because she deserves it. Because I want to show her how much she's changed me, how completely I've surrendered.
One night, after a long session, her second orgasm still trembling through her thighs, she looked down at me with something between amusement and delight.
"You seem to be enjoying this way more than you used to… don't you?" she said, voice low and rich.
I blushed but nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
"I like it," she said. "In fact, I think even if I removed the points you'd still beg me for it. Wouldn't you?"
My heart thudded in my chest. I nodded again. "Yes, Mistress. I would."
Her smile deepened.
"Such a good boy," she whispered, her fingers brushing my cheek.
Then she tilted her head thoughtfully.
"I have an idea," she said. "Let's make our point system a little more… spicy."
My breath caught.
"What do you think about negative points?"
I blinked, confused for a moment.
"You know," she continued, "something to keep you on your toes. A little fear of losing what you've worked so hard to earn."
She paused, letting the silence stretch as her eyes pinned me in place.
"You will give me four orgasms a week. If you don't…" Her voice turned light, almost playful. "You lose fifty points."
My cock twitched violently in its cage. She saw it, of course.
Her grin said everything.
It twitched again helplessly, shamelessly.
She chuckled softly. "I think I got my answer," she said. "Your cock just said everything there was to say."
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came.
It didn't matter.
My cock had sealed the deal. And I didn't get a say in the matter.