Nothing like a naked breakfast. I tucked into the bacon and eggs with my legs spread nice and wide under the table, twitching every once in a while against the underside of my frizzy belly. I made sure to get plenty of looks at my breakfast companion. Tyler was also nude, but with a bit more to show for it. The red marks across his chest showed where I had tightened the straps just this morning to suspend him from the ceiling. If it weren't on a chair I'd be able to see something like a handprint across his ass, too.
My mind was working things over as we ate in silence. We'd been doing this regularly for almost two years now. I'd come over to this stock suburban home of his, tie him, smack him, fuck him, basically do what I liked. The man has an unforgettable whimper, and there's nothing quite like the way his knees buckle just slightly when he realizes that he's just lost control of the situation.
Not that that's all we did, of course. Someone from the outside could have easily seen us on a date and mistaken us for a normal couple. Just that nice gay couple, Tyler and Mars. Domination was a sex thing. Behind closed doors. For now.
Because last time I'd seen him I'd floated the idea - what if it started to come out of the bedroom? I knew he liked me to take the lead even when he wasn't getting fucked. So make it official. Let me control you.
He'd think about it, he said.
We were supposed to discuss it when I came over the night before, but I was already hard when I got to the door and I wasn't about to slow things down for a conversation. So there we were, the next morning, the conversation that wasn't happening hanging in the air.
"So," I finished my eggs, "you think about it yet? Submission on a more full-time basis?"
He took a breath and nodded. "I have. And I think... I think I like the idea. But there's something about it that's bothering me."
"What's that?"
"Well, the way I see it, I'm giving up something for this. I'm giving up a lot. My autonomy. I mean, of course I find that exciting, but so do you. So we both get excitement, but I'm the one who has to cede so much ground to you."
"That is sort of the point."
"I know, I know. I was just thinking, well, what if you gave up something too? Something that would make it fair?"
I sat back in the chair and dangled a piece of bacon from my lips. "Uh, like what?"
He took a deep breath. "Well, I have a sort of fetish..." Didn't we all? He stood up and walked to the other room, giving me another good view of his paddled ass. He returned with a small box, putting it on the table. "I propose a trade."
The box clinked a bit when he set it down. It was a chastity device. A metal one, and small, designed to hold the cock close to the body. "My autonomy for your erections. You put this on and hand me the key, I belong to you until you ask for the key back. Then I'm back to being my own."
I blinked, a bit stunned. "You want me to wear that?" I picked up the box and looked at it. "You want me to dominate you in that?"
He shrugged and nodded. "You don't think you can be dom without using your cock? I know you can. How many times have you come over and not even fucked me? I don't think those were wasted nights."
My cock stirred and I swallowed hard at the thought of being locked up and restrained. Not exactly the most dominant thing to do. But I looked over at him again. The thought of being able to look across the breakfast table and see a slave...
"Now it's my turn to have to think about it." I finished the bacon. Before I left to head back home, I pinned him to the kitchen floor, blindfolded him, and fucked his face while listing all the reasons he was a bitch.
The box sat on my bedside dresser for a few days as I thought about it. I imagined how the scenario would go - having my very own slave to order around, eager to do whatever I say. But unable to fuck them. I grunted. Why did he have to make it so difficult?
The next Friday arrived and it was about time for me to head over. I stared at the box for a good twenty minutes.
There was no way I was going to pass up a chance to own him completely. "Fuck it."
I opened the box and read the complex instructions. Shaving myself? All this work just to not get hard. A lot of lather and a few nicks later, I was back in the living room. I dropped my pants to my ankles and began to feed my balls through the metal ring one at a time. Then, the little metal cage hung just in place so that I could tuck myself into it. Thankfully soft, it retracted into me a few inches to make room. I struggled with the latch a bit but finally snapped it.
There I was, in a chastity cage. Hadn't seen that one coming. Felt kind of cozy actually. I looked at myself in the mirror. Gruff bear in a leather jacket, with a flash of metal between his legs. Maybe I'd just tell myself it's some kind of Harley codpiece. Yeah.
The box had something else in it - a padlock and key, likely added by Tyler before giving me the box. I slipped those in a pocked and slipped the jeans back on. Still fit well. A very odd sensation, as a few inches of cock that would normally be filling out the crotch was replaced by metal.
I grabbed my keys and was about to head out the door when I thought about where I was going and grunted. My cock, trying to get hard, lurched forward, pushing the cage up off of my body, my balls pulled tight by the ring. I sweated; after waiting a few moments it went down, the passing sexual thought that had caused it still lingering in my mind. He'd better be a great fucking slave.
You could see his heart skip a beat and the smile curve up his face when I pushed the key into his hand. I'd sat outside the house for a good ten minutes deciding whether to slide the padlock on. But there it was, and there we were.
He took a deep breath. "Thank you Sir." My cock tried to stir, but was once again restrained. I felt a fire behind my eyes. God I wanted to fuck him.
I grabbed him by the arm, hard. "That's Master." He nodded meekly. I pushed him to his knees and yanked his clothes off, I think ripping at least one stitch in the shirt. He crawled after me to the living room. I'd usually be naked by now, but not tonight. I sat on the couch and put my feet up.
"Fetch my things." He started to get up but I snapped my fingers and pointed at him. He stayed down, and crawled off, returning before long with a collar and leash held in his mouth, a paddle carefully balanced on his back, and a glass of scotch in one hand, crawling with the other.
I slowly took all three things from him. I snapped the collar around his neck and tugged at it. Holding it taut gave me a good angle to swat his ass five times with the paddle. Of course, I rescued the scotch to a nearby table before bothering.
"If I can't fuck you I'm gonna have to get this out some other way, slut." The paddle finished its initial run of five and went for five more. My skin tingled with need. "Who owns you?"
"You do Master. You do, I'm yours, I'm your property, I'm your plaything." His voice wavered. If I hadn't been spanking his ass for two years I would have just thought it was pain, but this was something different. He was falling deep into submission. A constant stream of pre connected his cocktip to the floor, and the front of my jeans was getting fairly wet as well.
I yanked his leash again and put a hand on the back of his head, grinding it against my wet, metal crotch. "You did this to me, and for what, so you could be a worthless piece of property? That's exactly what you are. It's what you wanted to be" I had an eager whisper, leaning over and hissing it in his ear as his face was buried against my nub. All he could do was nod and whimper. There was the whimper. Needy and located entirely in his throat.
I pushed two fingers into his mouth and felt around "You prefer this to my cock I guess, huh?" I grinned and he sucked on my fingers. The fingers jolted a bit deeper in his throat every time I swatted his ass again.
Nearly grinding my teeth, I removed my fingers and pinched his nipples with my wet fingers. "I want to see your face covered in cum, and if it's not going to be me it's going to have to be you." I felt as though steam was rising from my forehead. Getting right in his face and channeling the energy from every nerve in my cock that wanted out so fucking badly direectly at him, I growled. "CUM."
He had never cum without his cock being touched before, but there's a first time for everything. The noise scared some birds on the front lawn.
The evening progressed with me taking advantage of my new toy. He'd had to clean up, of course, most of the mess he wore now on his face.
I had him playing housewife then, cleaning what I told him to and preparing a dinner just for myself. He'd be too busy to eat, putting on a show for me by riding his thickest toy.
After dinner I had him rearranging the furniture to my liking, while inventing and singing songs about how perfect his Master is. I sat and watched, every once in a while my hand drifting to my crotch before remembering. And it sure was doing its level best to wiggle out. Watching Tyler stoop and obey every word, seeing that little eletric twinge he seems to get when a new command comes in.
I was getting my everyday domination, and I liked the taste. I liked it a lot. And I could tell that Tyler did too. Given a chance to express himself in song lyrics, he did not shy to mention how assertive the cage had made his Master, and how seeing me that way made him shudder like plaster (lyrical ability not being a prerequisite for servitude).
And it was true. The rest of the weekend progressed the same way. Sure, I smacked him a few times, and forced him to keep a butt plug in all day, but the cage had made me focus on just how much I enjoyed controlling him at all times, without restraint. I was nearly squirming myself whenever I saw him do whatever ludicrous thing I had demanded. Midday I had him dress and we went to the grocery store. Even making him go through twenty apples to find one that suited me was a thrill.
And Monday morning came to a close. Taking me to the door on his knees, he pressed the key back in my hand and stood up, giving me a long, deep kiss before I headed off.
The drive back home was almost shaky. I called in sick. I jacked off five times that day.
It progressed like this for weeks. I'd spend the weekend locked up and in complete control, and the week like normal, like nothing had happened. His training as a slave was coming along well. If there had been any hesitation in obedience, it was fading. I developed a system of basic hand signals so I could order him without having to waste breath on my property. He was learning to speak only when spoken to, and given permission.
And, to be honest, I had started to come along too. My greedy domination on the weekends was honed, and I could see the excitement in his eyes simply being in my presence. The frustration of the cage fed into me, and I found myself wanting more of it. My cock had learned how not to struggle against the cage in a painful way. Instead I found the struggle incredibly erotic.
After the third week, I had started locking up earlier than I needed to, early Friday, just to build up more energy for the weekend. Friday turned to Thursday, Thursday to Wednesday...
I did miss fucking him, the power, watching him squeal. On Friday of week four, I arrived with a new toy - a large strapon dildo, designed to attach to the cage and hold on. Two inches bigger than my real cock too, which Tyler certainly seemed to appreciate. I fucked him on the couch and later that night he was cleaning cum off the TV screen a solid six feet away. I loved the power of it, thrusting my hips, feeling the heat. I didn't even particularly miss doing it with my own cock.
After six weeks, Tyler was showing up at the door attentive and desperate to please, like he'd gotten exhausted running his own life and wanted to hand it over so badly. And I found myself unlocking Monday morning, jacking off once, and then immediately slipping the cage back on. I just felt more comfortable with it on by that point. Like it was part of me.
Then came week eight, which also happened to fall on my birthday. Not that I needed an excuse for him to focus on me, but he'd certainly expanded his gear closet as a present. The use of his hands became a privilege, locked away the rest of hte time in rubber mitts.
Monday morning came and he began our ritual. This time as he offered out the key, I closed his hand back around it and smirked, heading back out to my car still caged. And, by our agreement, still completely in control.
That evening I texted him. "Prepare the house for me. I'm moving in."
Thirty seconds later he responded. "Yes Master."
I thought back to the previous Monday, realizing that that may be the last time I get fully erect for a long time, maybe ever. My phone buzzed. A picture of him at work in his collar. I had no regrets.
Epilogue
Things moved fairly quickly from then on. It was probably one of the easier moving-in-together experiences a couple could have. After all, it's not like he gets a say in which of our things stay and which go. He did have a good idea of how to arrange things at one point. Seems like a shame to let a good idea go to waste, so I just had him repeat the mantra that it had been my idea until it seemed like he believed it.
I had only a vague sense of nostalgia about erections, but orgasms I wasn't about to let go, and after three weeks in the permanent lock I knew something had to be done. So I got myself a set of anal toys. Many of our evenings from then were spent with him servicing my ass with the toys, stretching me wider, and training my prostate to orgasm from anal stimulation alone.
One month to the day after handing him back the key, I came. Tyler jumped back, surprised by the loud growling and yelling sound as cum spritzed at high pressure through the opening in my cage. I could barely see after that. It was like my whole body had been a cock and had exploded all at once. "Fuck."
I rewarded his hard work later that night by tying him down, face up, to the new bondage bench we'd acquired for the living room. I put a latex mask on him, removed my strapon and pushed it down his throat. I climbed on top of him and rode his cock while I pinched his nipples and slapped his latex-covered face. We came at the same time. "Fucking worthless," I grinned "needing a cock to cum. Good thing you have a real man to guide you."
Anyone who thinks that topping is the more dominant activity has never wrapped a leash around their hand and yelled at a sub to fuck their master's ass harder or else you'll shave their head.
A year into the slavery I realized that it was indeed for good. I was certainly no closer to wanting to back out of the deal. And Tyler was better trained than ever. He was having more and more trouble making simple decisions, when allowed to. The decision-making power had shifted to me. Even sending him grocery shopping would prompt a list of texts asking which brand of ketchup to buy. A promotion at my job allowed Tyler to quit his, which was just as well, as "servile and unable to make decisions" is a good employee description in some jobs, certainly, but not sales.
At that point, the house was put in my name, as were all of his accounts. Legally, the slut is penniless. I had him strapped to a chair, gagged, as I completed the deal on the phone. When his life savings officially became mine, he let out a deep moan and a thick drop of pre trickled down his cock. Then I shoved my strapon in his face.
Of course, any couple needs hobbies. Tyler has been properly trained as a pup and a show pony, and we compete in regular shows in the area. Having seen me fuck him with my strapon in the corner after a particularly good showing, the other participants are under the impression that I'm a trans man. I let them think what they like. One particularly exciting time, another owner was going away for a month, and Mars agreed to take the pup in. For a whole month, Tyler and his new friend stayed as pups, serving as they could. They returned the pup back to his owner very well-fucked, a little better trained, and having a little trouble returning to speaking human language.
And here we are now. It's been ten years since I've had an erection and since Tyler was a free man. I don't think things are about to change, and don't want them to. After all, if they did, I wouldn't be able to punish him for the spot he missed mopping by tying him to be completely immobile and edging his cock with my ass for hours while I write this story.
Now, I should be going. His cock just twitched, and if I'm about to cum, I'd like it to be while he sucks the cum from my cage. He's been getting real good at it lately.