Sex Pet For Rent

At The Party, i'd first served as 'decoration' -- kneeling, naked, collared, backcuffed and shackled, gagged and blindfolded. And of course quite effectively harmless to Mistress' guests, my manhood caged in the confining bars of the CB-2000 chastity device i am required to wear. It had been the first time Mistress had displayed me for anyone else.

In the course of the evening, as Mistress' guests grew accustomed to the sight of a naked man in their midst, and comfortable with the concept that i was secured in my cage and chains, she released me from the kneeling position, removed the blindfold (i just about died when i saw 20 women watching this process!) and the close-linked handcuffs that had restrained my wrists behind my back. She left in place the collar, the 'daychain ensemble' of shackles and handcuffs with their 18" chain, and the gag. And the CB-2000 cock cage, of course, but that's always in place.

And so i had been promoted (?) from 'decoration' to 'serving slave,' a task i performed until the last guest left. That last guest, however, was to be the hostess of next month's party, and she offered Mistress $100 for my services at that affair.

We spoke of it no further in the coming month. But for the past two weeks, i had been locked in the CB-2000, even after servicing Mistress orally. As Mistress is a woman of healthy appetites, i have usually been released from the cage after bringing her to her first orgasm or two, to join her in intercourse. Two continuous weeks of denied access were making me anxious.

When i asked if my actions were displeasing, she said quite matter-of-factly, "You're fine; i just want you to be an eager to please serving slave Friday night." "But, but..." i stammered, but Mistress was having none of it. "Your business hasn't been doing that well, and we can use the money. Besides, the ladies really liked the show you put on for them here, and several have asked when you'll be making your next appearance. In fact, you're already booked for parties the next 3 months."

Well, life was certainly taking an interesting turn here... i'd evidently gone from proprietor of a home-based business to professional naked serving slave in the course of one fateful evening.

"To improve my profesional bearing" Mistress had me on a strictly enforced diet and exercise regimen. She took particular glee in urging me to new standards of performance on the stairstepper with stinging swats to my ass with the leather flogger.

When Friday arrived i was apprehensive but resigned. i showered and prepared myself for what was certain to be a difficult evening. i was wearing my usual daychain ensemble - steel collar, the Smith & Wesson shackles, the handcuffs with 18" separating chain - that let me perform my household chores. And the CB-2000 that makes unauthorised autoerotic activity impossible while Mistress is away at her day job.

When i heard Mistress' car in the drive, i positioned myself in the living room for her preferred greeting - i knelt, knees spread Gorean pleasure-slave style, one chained wrist atop each thigh, staring at a spot on the floor between my knees. When she entered, and saw that i was ready, she just said "Position" and took off her coat.

i moved the long chain behind my body. Mistress crossed to a box on the coffee table and removed a pair of close-link handcuffs, which she snapped on my wrists in addition to the daychain cuffs. She tied a long black scarf over my eyes, and said "Open." i opened my mouth to accept the gag thrust deep between my lips, felt it bucked tightly, heard the click under my left ear as it was locked into place.

This sequence of events was not new -- it was how i'd been prepared as a 'decoration' at Mistress' last party, but i knew tonight's party -- the one for which i'd been rented as a naked serving slave -- was not here. i then felt a length of light chain padlocked to the steel collar -- leash length -- and a soft cloth hood pulled over my head, blocking even the dim light i could still see through my closed, blindfolded eyes. i felt even more exposed than ever.

After a few minutes i heard the shower and the sounds of Mistress' preparations. Soon she returned, grabbed the end of the chain leash, and tugged me to my feet. "Heel" she said, and i gingerly moved to follow the pressure at my throat. We were headed for the garage.

i hadn't expected this! i thought i'd be taken dressed to the party site and prepared there. Instead, i was to be taken naked and chained to an unknown destination! But there was no resisting now!

i heard "Step up" and "Mind your head" as i was led into an unfamiliar vehicle - a commercial van from the size and lack of appointments, i guessed. Where had it come from? i had no time to wonder. Mistress said "Position" and i assumed the now-familiar kneeling position, on what was evidently a small scrap of carpet. The door closed with a tinny slam, the passenger door opened, a person got in, and closed the door. That person was Mistress, for i heard her say "Let's go!" and the engine started. Someone else (who!?) was driving.

i heard the garage door open and we started through. Mistress and the mystery driver exchanged no conversation, and we drove for what seemed about an hour. i'd lost track of direction after the first few turns; i had no idea where i was - another first. If the humiliation of being a naked serving slave had been too much at the first party, i could have run off to another room - it was, after all, still my house. But this night, there would be no escape. As far as i knew, i was many miles from my clothes, from the keys to the cuffs and shackles that enforced my nakedness.

At last, the van stopped, the doors opened, and i felt a hand take hold of my chain leash and tug me up and out. i stepped out into what felt to be outdoors. The van drove away!

Taking comfort in the smallest of familiar settings, i was relieved to hear Mistress' voice say "Stand-Stay." i moved my ankles apart to the extent of the shackles, feeling the cool evening breeze against my skin. i heard a few other voices - female voices - around me. In a few moments time i felt another tug at the leash and Mistress again said "Heel." i followed, of course.

We moved indoors, the grass and concrete beneath my feet replaced by the feel of luxurious carpet. The smells of wine, Bourbon, and hot hors d'ouevres were unmistakable. The hood was removed, and i heard some murmurring -- it seems the gag was an unexpected sight. Next removed was the blindfold.

i had never been in this house before - i had no idea where i was. i heard and felt keys working in the close-linked cuffs behind my back, and they were removed. Mistress steped in front of me. "You know what to do - get to work! Oh -- new duty tonight -- you are to answer the doorbell!"

The next few hours were something of a blur. Again, i opened and poured wine, mixed drinks, listened for the doorbell and shuffled as quickly as the shackles permitted, to open. The amazed looks of dressed-to-kill women greeted by a naked, chained, gagged and collared man was humiliating and amusing. Nearly every one looked --there-- and pointed, giggled, and smiled at my caged manhood.

i hadn't seen Mistress for a couple of hours as the guests began to trickle out. When there were but two or three remaining, the evening's hostess came to me and took the chain leash in her hand, pulling me to the garage. She had a small slip of paper in one hand, the black velvet hood i had worn in transport in the other. Reading from the paper, she said "Down, Position." i knelt, hands behind my back.

She withdrew several items from the hood. The first was the pair of close-link handcuffs, which she closed over my wrists. Next came a padlock, which she used to lock the shackle chain to the handcuff centerlink, restraining me in the hogtie position. She tugged at the locks and chains, as if to reassure herself i had been effectively secured.

A steel screw eye protruded from the concrete garage floor. Perhaps it once restrained a dog. Hostess took another padlock and fastened the end of the chain leash there. She pulled a sleeping bag from a box labelled 'Summer Camp' and laid it out next to me. It wouldn't be comfortable, but i would at least be somewhat insulated from the cold concrete. She continued from the paper.

"Your wife has been called away to work; she will return for you in the morning. You will remain here until her return. Can you do this without making a fuss?" she asked. i nodded. "Good," she said, "I have been authorized to remove your gag for the remainder of the night so you can sleep." She unlocked the small padlock, and unbuckled the gag -- my jaws ached as i slowly closed and opened them a few times. "That is the only key I was given," she said, "you will have no choice but to remain here until your wife returns to free you." She put the black velvet hood over my head, and walked away. She turned out the light, closed the door, and i heard it lock.

Dead tired, i flopped onto my side on the sleeping bag and was quickly asleep, although i awoke many times during the night, chilled, moving what little i could, trying to find a slightly more confortable position. Twice i awoke from dreams seeing only the pitch-black inside of the hood, powerful erection driving the spikes of the CB-2000's 'Points of Intrigue' into the shaft of my cock.

In time, i heard the garage door roll up and a van drive in. i heard the jingle of keys as the padlocks securing my leash to the concrete floor and my wrists to my ankles were removed. i was helped to my feet and into the van, where i was able to stretch out just a little more. By contrast, it was so much more comfortable than what i'd just endured that i fell asleep again, despite the pain in my shoulders. When we returned home, the hood and close-link cuffs were removed, and i was allowed to take a long hot shower.

The daychains and collar stayed on, though, as did the CB-2000.

That was six months ago, and little has changed. Mistress tells me that when i've earned $1000, she'll remove the cage and treat me to a hand job. That ought to be four months from now, but i think i heard her talking with one of her friends about painting a house for $200. i'm sure the release and the hand job will be nice, but i grow tired of being kept chained in the garage on these multiple-day projects...

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Page last updated 02-May-31 by: Altairboy@aol.com