I never planned to become her slave. It started with a single drunken confession one night after too many drinks and her hand gripping my cock under the table at the bar. "You'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" she whispered, and I nodded like a man possessed. From that moment on, I was hers. Not boyfriend. Not lover. Slave.
She made it official the next weekend. I knelt naked in her living room while she sat fully clothed on the couch, legs crossed, sipping wine. "Strip your pride away," she said. "From now on your only job is to please me. Mouth, hands, cock—whatever I want, when I want it." I agreed instantly. My dick was already leaking onto her floor.
The first week she tested me hard. Every morning I woke her with my tongue between her thighs, licking slow and steady until she came on my face. She didn't let me fuck her. Instead she used my mouth like a toy, grinding down until my jaw ached and my chin was soaked. At night she had me edge myself for an hour while she watched TV, stopping every time I got close. "Good slaves don't come without permission," she reminded me, smirking when I whimpered.
By the second week the dynamic deepened. She started calling me "toy" instead of my name. She bought a leather collar and locked it around my neck with a small padlock.
The key stayed on a chain between her tits. "This stays on unless I remove it," she said. "Even at work. Feel it and remember who owns you."
Work became its own torture. I'd sit in meetings with the collar hidden under my shirt, my mind replaying the night before—how she'd bent me over the bed and spanked me raw before riding my face until she squirted. I'd come home aching and desperate. She loved that desperation. She'd make me strip at the door, inspect my cock for any sign I'd touched it without permission, then decide my fate.
Some nights she used me gently. She'd lie back, spread her legs, and let me fuck her slow and deep while she whispered filthy praise. "That's it, slave. Fill your owner up." Other nights she was cruel in the best way. She'd tie my wrists behind my back, shove a plug in my ass, and make me watch while she used her vibrator. If I begged well enough she'd finally let me inside her, but only after I cleaned her with my tongue first.
The weekend she invited her friend over changed everything. I was already collared and caged when the doorbell rang. Her friend, a tall redhead named Lena, knew exactly what I was. They had me serve drinks naked except for the cage, then ordered me to my knees between them. "Show Lena how good your mouth is," my owner commanded. I ate Lena out while my owner watched and stroked my locked cock through the bars. When Lena came she pulled my hair and called me a good little slut. My owner smiled the whole time.
After that, sharing became regular. Sometimes two women, sometimes three. I was never allowed to come during those sessions. My owner saved that for private moments when she'd unlock the cage, ride me until I was shaking, then make me pull out and finish on her feet so she could watch me lick it up.
Months in, the submission became total. I did her laundry, cooked her meals, and slept on a mat at the foot of her bed unless she wanted my tongue or cock. On bad days she'd come home, push me face-down on the floor, and fuck my ass with her strap-on until I was sobbing from the intensity and the relief of being used. On good days she'd let me worship every inch of her body for hours, kissing and licking until she was satisfied.
One night she unlocked the cage after a long week of denial. "You've earned this," she said, straddling me. She rode me slow at first, then harder, telling me exactly how pathetic and owned I looked beneath her. When I finally came it was with a broken moan, shooting deep inside her while she ground down and took every drop. Afterward she made me clean her with my mouth again, then kissed me and said the words that still make me hard just thinking about them: "Good slave. You're mine."
I still wear the collar. I still wake her with my tongue. And every time she calls me toy I feel that same rush of surrender and lust. I am her slave. Completely. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
