valentine’s day looks a little different for this duck.

tonight i am not just preparing the scene. i am part of it.

Madam has me in my special sex-butler outfit. tailored vest, crisp white shirt, fitted trousers, collar gleaming at my throat. it is formal, dramatic, and just submissive enough to make the role perfectly clear. i am not the date. i am the devoted manservant for the evening’s festivities.

Madam and her Mister will go out to dinner first. elegant. romantic. polished. while they are away, i will transform the estate into something warmer and more decadent. the hot tub will be heated to perfection. candles placed safely but intentionally. rose petals scattered just enough to feel indulgent. the bed turned down, sheets smooth, pillows fluffed, lighting dimmed to that soft glow that makes everything feel lush.

when they return, my role begins in earnest.

i will greet them at the door. take her coat. kneel to remove her heels. offer drinks. guide them to the space i have prepared. throughout the evening, i will be attentive and silent when needed, responsive when commanded, present but never intrusive.

i love this kind of service. being the one who anticipates, who adjusts, who makes sure everything flows seamlessly. refilling glasses. bringing towels. adjusting lighting. offering hands when she wishes. withdrawing when she does not.

there is something incredibly powerful about being trusted in that space. not as the focus, but as the steady presence that keeps everything running smoothly.

valentine’s day for duckie is not about flowers or chocolates. it is about being useful. about being chosen to stand close. about playing my part perfectly while Madam enjoys her night exactly the way she wants.

and honestly? i would not trade that role for anything.

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