She's late! Again!
  
Agitation swells but is forgotten when she arrives safely. Forgotten but never forgiven. Words aren't necessary.

Looking nervously at her feet, she kneels at mine, kissing each painted toe. She begs with  a sincerity that sends flutters non-stop to my clit. Grabbing her head I grind her face to my cunt.  

Her tongue pleases. I praise. She beams. Spotting the nearby cane, she trembles. From fear or arousal? Likely both. Despite the dominant facade she knows our love is true. No collar necessary. Her secret, symbolic marks are hidden for our sight and touch only. Always fresh.