Knock knock

You know your slave is doing a good job when he stops you in your tracks and he isn't even there...  

Today walking thru my kitchen I paused briefly because I thought I smelled my slave. Yes, I said smell. I have a very keen sense of smell and often associate smells with people. 

My slave wears a cologne that I have come to long and request he wear whenever he sees me; it is his scent. Almost religiously after he leaves my apartment, my sheets, clothes, hair, couch, and anything else he has touched or brushed passed smells like him. I thought I smelled it today in the kitchen. I kept going to the front door and seeing if he was waiting on the other side because sometimes he does that until I open the door for him. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was his collar on the front door leaving behind his alluring aroma. Ahh...what a wonderful aroma it is...