Pet (formerly known as Brett before she had him legally change his name as proof of his devotion) twitches and gives out a muffled moan as the shock butt plug activates inside him, sending a harsh jolt into his ass. As the shocks keep repeating his face twists into a pained grimace, but he can’t help feeling relieved a little. The shocks mean his Goddess needs his services, which in turn means he can leave the damn cell under the staircase where he was made to stare at it’s blank walls, silent and unmoving, for several hours now.
When he came to Cathexis, his Goddess made it clear there would be a trial/training/indoctrination period before he would be trusted to work around the house freely with the other slaves. The training period was necessary as she had learned men are best trained by teaching them only one task at a time, forcing them to master it, then adding a new task. Their simple minds were to small to deal with it any other way. And it allowed her to examine his patience and obedience, pure and simple. Now in his second month, he has been trusted with a three minor tasks. Acting as her toilet, preparing her tea, and learning how she preferred her oral pleasure. When not being used for any of those, he was to wait silently and unmoving in his cage beneath the stairs. She had told him when he arrived to get used it as it would be his room for the foreseeable future. And because he was yet a fully trusted slave of the household, he would be locked in at night, only to be unlocked by one of the other slaves during their morning chores.
Now summoned by the shocks in his ass, he crawls across the living room on his knees, towards his Goddess’s workspace, his chains rattling and whimpering in pain all the while. He knew the shocks would only get ever stronger until he reached her workspace and then a few minutes more if Goddess finds him too slow or just feels like taking pleasure in his helpless wriggling.
Fortunately, she has no time for playing with him right now. When he finally gets to the workroom, Goddess stops the shocks and utters a single word without taking her eyes off the screen:
“Tea.”
Pet turns around and crawls back to the kitchen. The Nespresso machine has been moved to a stool where he can actually reach it and luckily for him, Goddess likes her classic black tea, not too dark, hot but not scalding, with just a squirt of MCT oil. All he has to do is put a capsule into the machine, place a cup on the holder and push the button. As it filled, he stared at the caption written boldly across the mug – ‘On Wednesday’s We Smash the Patriarchy’. The more challenging part, in fact, is getting the cup to her workroom careful enough not to spill it and quick enough to keep it hot. He’s done it more than enough times to get good at it but he still fucks it up every now and then, earning himself quite a few strokes of her cane.
By the time he gets back to Goddess she’s in a conference call. She takes the tea cup from him, then pulls up her silky skirt and spreads her thighs, revealing her naked crotch. She doesn’t even need to glance at her slave for him to know what is expected from him. He crawls closer, pushing his ball gag against Goddess’ divine pussy, then as she unbuckles the gag he covers her peehole with his open mouth.
He rightfully dreads the punishment for spilling as much as a single drop. Goddess would never put up with her workroom smelling of piss!
Once his Goddess relieved herself, Pet cleans her pussy with his tongue, then proceeds with eating her out. He keeps pleasing his superior to the best of his abilities but he’s in no hurry; Goddess will let him know when she wants to cum, and it won’t be before the conference ends. Besides, eating pussy is Pet’s favorite pastime by far. He’d be much rather doing it all day than staring at the blank walls of his cell by any rate.
In the end he is allowed to tease his Goddess’ pussy and clit for about half an hour before she says goodbye to her female colleagues and quits the call. She stretches her arms and gives out a weary sigh, then pulls her slave boy closer with her left leg and holds him there tight, burying his face deep into her pussy. Pet gets the hint and starts to move his tongue faster, doing his best to get his Goddess to the climax before he runs out of breath. Almost a minute later, just as he starts suffocating, he finally feels Goddess’s body go rigid with pleasure, her thighs trembling. Pet keeps licking, choking and suffocating, until the waves of the orgasm fade and he’s tossed down to the floor wheezing, disheveled, his face covered with her vaginal fluid.
For a minute or two Goddess simply lays back in her chair, eyes closed and a heavenly bliss on her face. Then she regains her composure; stands up, smooths down her skirt and runs her fingers through her hair. At last she looks her poor slave in the eye for the first time that afternoon and slowly raises an eyebrow.
As if she’s asking if he has anything to say.
Pet would have so, so much to say. He wants to tell Mistress how sick and tired he is of this ruthless bondage he has been kept in non-stop for over a month now. How desperately he needs to stretch his legs and shift the position of his arms. How gravely he needs a good night’s sleep, a warm shower and fucking soap and shampoo instead of that cruel cold hosing he gets every morning. And he wants to tell her how horny and frustrated his cock is, how it’s writhing and swelling in the unforgiving steel cage of his chastity belt right now. How hopelessly he wants to experience just a tiny fragment of the pleasure he gives his Goddess day by day.
But here is the thing: he knows that his Goddess’ raised eyebrow does not mean “you may speak”. Not at all. It means “I dare you to speak.” And he also knows what the punishment would be for speaking without permission – the extension of his predicament for another 24 hours.
What Pet does not know is how long it’s supposed to go on. He only knows he can’t stand it for a day longer! So day after day he gulps down his complaints, hoping this would be the last day, even though night after night he keeps tossing and turning and sobbing in his cage, still cuffed, belted and chained the same way.
His pleading eyes fill with tears and he opens his mouth. He opens it real wide and keeps it that way, asking for his gag.
Mistress straps the rubber ball back between his jaws and pats his head.
“Cage.” she says before returning to her work. Pet crawls back through the living room, into his cage under the stairs and resumes staring at the blank wall without making a movement or a sound. He bites down hard on his gag to hold back the weeping, and only his tears flow in silence as he tries his best to cling onto those two words:
Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow it will surely end…