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The next few days were normal. I mean, whenever I wasn't at work, I was at home, naked, with a metal collar and a chastity cage on my dick. And I was watched (at least potentially) the whole time by cameras that were up in my apartment. And I sucked a fake cock for thirty minutes each day. But other than that, things were pretty normal.
Friday morning, I woke up with a start when I felt my hair being pulled, dragging me out of bed. What the fuck?! It hurt so much, and who? Why? My thoughts were all over the place as I was pulled out of my bed. I saw Sir, even in the darkness, and things started to click. It was early. Sir had let himself into my apartment, and wanted me for something. By the time I had figured that out, Sir had pulled me onto the floor and back up, throwing me onto my stomach on the bed, bent over.
I didn't move, even though Sir let go of my hair. I started to ask, "Sir, what..." when he stopped me with a swift, hard slap to my ass.
"Quiet, faggot," he ordered. I immediately shut my mouth, and felt Sir's hand sliding into my asshole, along with cold lube. Guessing what was coming, I made myself relax. I was right. Soon, Sir removed his finger, and I felt his cock pressing against my hole. Sir wasn't gentle, but was taking my ass without regard to my feelings. I would use the word "rape" if I wasn't submitting willingly, but it was hard. I mean, I just let a man come into my home, wake me up in a rude and painful way, and now I'm just going to let him fuck me, without fighting back? How pathetic was that?
Sir didn't take long to finish, but before he let me up, he slipped a butt plug into my hole. Then he smacked my ass again, before saying, "Leave the plug in until you get to work. Then you can take a video of yourself removing it and letting my cum drip out of your ass. Bring the plug to my house tonight. You're going to spend the weekend with me. Bring clothes for Monday, you're not coming back here in between." Then Sir pulled up his pants and left.
Just like that, it was over. I went back to bed and cried for a little bit, as much out of the surprise encounter as the roughness of it. I'd always had time to mentally prepare myself before, but this time I hadn't been able to, and it was harder to process. At the same time, I knew that I'd given up the ability to be secure in my own home, that Sir could use me anytime and anywhere, and he'd just driven that point home.
When my alarm went off, I got out of bed and showered, making sure I left the plug in. I got dressed, packed a bag for Monday, and then went to work. I took care of a few things, then went to the bathroom, where I filmed myself removing the plug and allowing Sir's seed to drip from my ass into the toilet. I felt so used, now that even my work space had been another place of humiliation. I sent Sir the video, but he never responded. __________________________
I managed to go through my work day without any further embarrassment. After work, I headed straight to Sir's house, and as soon as I parked my car, I stripped and left my clothes in my car.I put on my collar, and then walked up to the front door, where I noticed an envelope taped to the door that was labeled, "Slave." I opened the envelope and took out a piece of paper with a note on it. It said, "Slave, I'll be home later. While you're waiting for me, make yourself useful. Plug your ass (use spit to lube it up) and clean the back patio. If I'm still not back, take the plug out and practice sucking it."
Now Sir wasn't even dominating me himself, but was just doing it by letter. And I was just going to go along with it. There really wasn't even doubt in my mind, even though another part of me knew that a sane person would leave at this point. But no, I obediently sucked on the plug Sir had left in my ass that morning to cover it in my saliva. I got down on my knees, and stuck my ass out while reaching back. I slowly pushed the plug in, getting the final part with some effort and a loud grunt. Thanking my luck that Sir lived in the country, where nobody could see me, I walked around back and saw a broom leaned up against the house on the back patio. I picked it up and started sweeping the patio. I decided to take my time and be thorough, hoping I wouldn't have to suck on the plug that was currently in my asshole.
In some ways, it was almost peaceful. The weather was beautiful, not too hot or too cold. The only things I could hear were the sounds of the broom on the patio, the occasional click of something moving on my chastity cage or collar, the birds singing, and the breeze in the trees. I was settling into a calm, sedate rhythm, enjoying myself - a moment where I was thoroughly owned without being humiliated or in pain.
Finally, I finished sweeping the porch. I still hadn't seen any sign of Sir. Unfortunately, I knew what I had to do next. However, I decided to walk around to the front to check my phone, to see if he'd messaged me anything further. I got to my car and checked my phone - nothing. So I resigned myself to sucking on the now-ass-flavored plug that I was about to remove. So I went to the small porch in front of the door, got down on all fours, and slowly pulled the plug out of my ass. I set it on the ground, sticking up in the air, and prepared to start sucking on it. Then I heard a very welcome sound, Sir's car pulling into the driveway.
I looked up, and watched as Sir pulled his car up in front of his garage. I stayed where I was, but decided to keep my eyes devotedly on Sir instead of sucking the dildo, mostly because I didn't particularly want to. I could smell it already, and it wasn't appealing in the slightest. Thankfully, Sir didn't seem to mind. Or, at least, he had other plans. He got out of his car and walked over to me as he said, "Good, you're here. I gotta piss."
I knew that meant he intended to have me drink it. Outside. Where anybody driving by could (maybe) see. But in addition to knowing what was expected of me, I knew that I made the choice to be here, and I was going to obey. So I got up on my knees and took the head of Sir's dick in my mouth after he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Almost immediately, I tasted the warm acidity of Sir's urine in my mouth, and felt the overwhelming sense of shame I felt every time I'd drunk his piss. It was becoming too easy to do something so disgusting.
Before long, Sir was done. He pulled his dick out of my mouth and put it back in his pants, leaned over to pick up the plug, and walked into his house, expecting me to follow. Remembering last weekend, I followed on my hands and knees, crawling behind him, both eager and terrified to know what else he had planned for the weekend.
Once inside, Sir pointed a recipe and said to make dinner and bring it to him, then left me naked in the kitchen, while he went into the living room and turned on the TV. I got to work, making the instructed dish as quickly as I could. I made enough for me, as well as Sir. I put my food on a plate and left it in the kitchen, not wanting to assume that I'd be permitted to eat with him. And I was right. I brought the plate in to Sir, who took it from me, and then instructed me to get on all fours in front of him. I did, and felt him put the plate on my bare back. Apparently I was going to serve as Sir's table, regardless of how hungry I was. Good thing I ate lunch, so I wouldn't totally starve.
It didn't long for that decision to become boring. I mean, I couldn't see the TV, although I could hear it, so there was that, but otherwise, I had to stay still so that I didn't spill Sir's food. I had nothing to look at, no sensations to experience, and Sir wasn't talking to me. It didn't take long for me to realize that I really felt like an object - at least when Sir hit me or talked down to me, I was somewhat equivalent, but now his interaction with me was limited to putting something on me. I managed to stay there for a while, though I'm sure it wasn't nearly as long as it felt. Finally, I felt like I had to move something, so I shifted slightly. Sir immediately reacted. "Stay still, boy, or I'll beat your balls." Well, I didn't want that to happen, so I gave every effort to obey.
After several more minutes, during which I managed to remain motionless, Sir lifted his plate off my back and put it in front of me. "Dishes, then fold my laundry," he ordered.
"Sir, may I eat first?" I asked.
"You had lunch, didn't you? Now it's time for work," Sir replied, without looking at me.
I was annoyed, but I managed to swallow it. I had made the choice to give Sir the ability to make that decision for me, and I had to live with the consequences of it, whether I liked it or not. "Yes, Sir," I said, a little sadly, then carried his plate back to the kitchen. I threw away my food, and did the dishes. Then I found his laundry room, and emptied the clothes in his drier into an empty basket. I carried the basket to Sir's bedroom, and then looked around in his closet and dresser to determine how Sir organized his clothes. I then folded them and sorted them on his bed, after which I put them away.
Before this, I had started to feel like my relationship with Sir was that of a sex slave. I submitted to him sexually, and he used me primarily for sex. That wasn't really what I had expected when I gave up control. I mean, I had expected sexual use, of course, Sir had never hid his intentions toward me, but he hadn't done a lot of service that didn't have some sort of sexual edge. Even when I mowed his lawn, I was impaled on a dildo, after all. But now the only way you could get to a sexual component was the fact that I was naked, except for my collar and cage. And after a week of pretty constantly being naked and caged, I was finding that less and less sexual. But all the same, I was laboring away for another person's benefit, and for what? So that he would use me, even though the way he used me wasn't something I was into? Then why was I here?
Because I was owned. I liked being owned. I liked not having control of myself. And oddly enough, I found that I was missing the sexual interaction. Don't get me wrong. I enjoyed being a slave, but nobody willingly becomes another person's slave so they can fold their laundry. Was this Sir's way of showing me that, now that I was a slave, and had so willingly submitted to him, he could play with my sexual desires so much?
I finished the laundry, and realized that I had to use the restroom. So I returned the basket to the laundry room and then crawled back to Sir. When I was in front of him, and the TV was on a commercial break, I said, "Sir, I finished the dishes and the laundry. May I use the restroom, please?"
Sir shook his head. "No, you may not use the restroom in the house. You will crawl outside, crawl to the middle of the yard, raise your leg, and piss like a dog."
Well, fuck. I needed to piss, and I wasn't going to deliberately disobey a direct order, so I did it, ashamed of myself the whole time. I crawled out to the backyard, and the whole time I asked myself why I let myself be treated like this. Why did I let another man dictate to me how I could use the bathroom, especially when he made me do it in such a humiliating way. When I got to the yard, I made sure to keep my pee off of me, and then turned around and crawled back to the house, back to Sir.
"Good boy," Sir said. "Start by the front door, and sweep every hard floor in the house. You'll vacuum the carpets later. I've got a friend coming tomorrow, and the house will be spotless when he gets here."
"Yes, Sir," I replied, while wanting to ask questions about the friend. Who was he? What will I be doing? I should probably get ready to sexually service Sir's friend, as well, right? I mean, I'm his property to share if he wants, and if I'm here, I'm sure he'll share me. He didn't have a problem doing it with his other friend, after all.
Regardless of what the future held, though, I had a job to do now, and I did it. I worked as quickly as I could, but I made sure I was thorough, and soon swept the floors. It was mindless, but I understood that I was as useful to Sir as a tool as I was as a sex toy. When I finished, I informed Sir, and he checked my work. Again, he complimented me, telling me I had done well, which just made me feel absurdly good, considering that I was naked and doing it on his orders, subject to punishment if I had failed him. But still, I liked hearing that I had done well, and it made me want to keep on doing well.
Sir next instructed me to vacuum his bedroom, which I did quickly. He then attached that electric alarm strap to me, behind the cock cage. "I'm going to bed, boy. You will vacuum the remainder of the house. Then you will go the the playroom, and put yourself into the cage. There is a timer padlock on the cage, which is already set. You just need to lock yourself in for the night. You will know when the cage unlocks. Then you may come and wake me up by sucking my cock like a good little faggot. Do you understand your instructions?
I did, and didn't have any questions. Sir went to his room, and I vacuumed the rest of the house, making sure I did a thorough job. When I was done, I put the vacuum cleaner away, and walked into the playroom, where I saw an open padlock on the cage door. I crawled into the cage, closed the door, and reached through the bars to lock it. I hesitated before clicking the lock shut, though. I mean, I'm going to spend the night in a cage, like I'm some sort of animal, instead of a person? Why was I doing that to myself? And why didn't Sir want to sleep with me? He had before, when I spent the night.
I couldn't believe that I was missing sleeping with another man, especially a man who insisted on waking me up either by electrocuting my privates, or by brutally almost-raping me. What was happening to me? I was confident that I was straight. Even now, I didn't look at Sir and want to have sex with him, but I was so glad that he owned me. I was happy to belong to him. I was happy to be his slave.
I sighed, not sure I'd ever figure out what was going on inside me, then I pushed the padlock shut, locking myself in this cage until whenever Sir set it to unlock. Feeling grateful that the cage had a little bit of padding, I laid down and curled up, because I couldn't stretch out even if I wanted to, to try and sleep.
Sleep didn't come easy that night. I would have tossed and turned, if I'd had room, but I really had no choice except to lay still. Finally, I felt myself drifting off to sleep, tired and nervous about what the next day held.