After calling in sick to work, I stayed home, my mind racing. I still couldn’t believe what had happened earlier—it was mind-blowing. All I could think about was having that thick cock stretching my ass again.
“Daddy,” I moaned softly, fingertips circling my small, already-leaking dick. Curious, I Googled “sub” and “gay,” and “sissy” flooded the screen. The images—smooth boys in lace, caged and collared, getting used—hit like lightning. I’d never pictured myself that way, but fuck, it clicked. My cock twitched hard as I imagined Roger pinning me down, railing me raw, or forcing every inch down my throat until I choked. One hand dipped back, two fingers sliding easily into my still-slack, cum-slick hole from yesterday; the other stroked my pathetic little shaft in frantic little pumps.
My phone buzzed—Mr. C (he’d told me to call him Roger, but “Daddy” already felt right). “Hey hun, did you have fun? I hope so. I got your contract written up.”
I rolled onto my stomach, hiked one cheek high, spread myself wide in the mirror, and snapped a close-up of my puffy, reddened hole still glistening with lube and his load. Sent it without a caption. The message was unmistakable.
Moments later: “Tomorrow morning, 7 a.m.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I typed back, heart hammering.
I pulled up a favorite femboy threesome video—cute twink in pink getting spit-roasted—and matched my strokes to their brutal rhythm, whimpering every time the top bottomed out. My fingers fucked my ass in time; I came hard within minutes, ropes splattering my belly. I scooped the warm mess onto my fingers and sucked them clean, tasting salt and shame, already addicted.
The next morning, I woke buzzing. Shower, full-body shave until I was baby-smooth everywhere, then my shortest denim cut-offs (ass cheeks hanging out) and a cropped white tee that rode up to show my flat stomach. I crossed the hall to Roger’s door.
He yanked me inside, slammed the door, and crushed me against the wall—rough, devouring kiss, tongue claiming my mouth while one big hand squeezed my throat just enough to make me dizzy.
“Fuck, I’ve been hard thinking about this tight little ass all night.”
“Oh God, Daddy, I’ve been dripping for your cock since yesterday. Please use me.”
He handed me the two-page contract. “Read it. Sign it. Bring it back signed, and you’re mine—no take-backs.”
I skimmed: total ownership, grooming rules, orgasm denial, mandatory femme presentation, service on demand, and punishment clause. My dick throbbed reading it. I signed with shaking hands right there in the hallway.
“You’re mine now, baby.” He kissed me again, deeper, then led me to the bedroom.
First: pink lace panties, barely-there thong style. I dropped my shorts, stepped in, and twirled. The fabric cupped my balls snugly, the string nestling between my cheeks, already tenting obscenely when I got hard.
“Perfect little slut,” he growled, palming my ass hard, then delivering three sharp smacks that made me yelp and leak.
Next: a shiny red jeweled butt plug, fat and tapered. He bent me over his lap, spread me, and drizzled cold lube straight onto my hole. His thick finger circled, pushed in knuckle-deep, then two—scissoring, stretching. I whimpered into the sheets. He pressed the plug’s cold metal base against me, twisting slowly. The widest part burned, then popped past my rim with a wet suck. I gasped, clenching around the neck as the jewel nestled flush against my cheeks.
“Good boy. Feel that weight in your pussy all day.”
Then the pink chastity cage—small, cruelly tight. He knelt, sucked my cockhead once—hot, wet suction that made me buck—then forced my softening shaft into the tube. The ring snapped behind my balls; the lock clicked shut. Instant pressure. My dick strained uselessly against the bars.
He showed two collars: a slim pink leather collar and a thicker black one. I chose pink. He buckled it snug around my throat, kissed the front, then pocketed the contract and left for errands. “Stay plugged, caged, and ready to serve when I get back.”
The cage was immediate torture—every twitch made the bars bite. I teased my nipples until they ached, watched sissy hypno porn, tugged my trapped balls, desperate.
An hour later, his truck rumbled up. I dropped to all fours in the living room, ass up, plug glinting, collar tight.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Fuck, look at you—gorgeous little whore.” He stroked my hair.
“May I suck your cock, please?”
“Of course, baby.”
He sat on the couch, spread wide. I crawled between his thighs, unzipped him with my teeth, and freed his thick, veiny cock—already leaking. I licked the slit first, tasting salty precum, then swirled around the fat head before sliding down inch by inch. He groaned, hand fisting my hair.
“Suck it right, you greedy little slut.”
He took control—thrusting up, forcing me deeper until my nose buried in his pubes. I gagged hard, throat convulsing, tears streaming, spit bubbling out and dripping down his balls. He held me there, pulsing, then pulled back just enough to let me breathe before slamming in again. I relaxed my throat, took him to the root over and over, wet glurks filling the room.
He slapped his wet cock across my tear-streaked face. “Serve it properly. Eyes up, tongue out.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He hauled me onto his lap, legs straddling, and we kissed filthy—tongues sloppy, my caged dick grinding uselessly against his abs while his bare cock smeared precum on my panties.
Without warning, he flipped me onto my back, hooked my knees over his shoulders, and sucked each toe with a slow, hot tongue between them, then licked down my calves, thighs, nipping the sensitive skin. He tugged the plug’s jewel, twisting it, making me whine, then yanked it free with a wet pop. My hole gaped, fluttering.
“Such a pretty, hungry little pussy,” he growled. He dove in—tongue spearing deep, fucking me with it while one hand squeezed my caged balls, rolling them roughly. I writhed, moaning like a bitch in heat.
He added fingers—two, then three—curling hard against my prostate until precum drooled steadily through the cage bars. He licked my sack, sucked each ball into his mouth, then lined up his dripping cock.
He pressed in slow at first—fat head breaching me, stretching the ring wide—then sank balls-deep in one long, relentless thrust. I cried out, back arching; he bottomed out with a grunt, pubic bone grinding my taint.
He choked me lightly—thumb and fingers collaring my throat—then started pounding. Deep, punishing strokes that slapped skin on skin, his heavy balls smacking my ass. Every thrust punched my prostate; clear precum leaked in thick strings from my cage, pooling on my stomach.
“You’re such a good fucking slut for Daddy.”
“Yes, your good slut; harder—please…”
He flipped me onto my side, one leg hooked over his shoulder, railing me sideways so he could slap my ass red with every drive. Then onto my stomach—prone bone—his full weight pinning me, hips snapping brutally. He spat into my open mouth; I swallowed greedily, begging for more.
The pressure built unbearably. “Daddy, I’m gonna cum… please!”
“Don’t you fucking dare, bitch.”
But it was too much; the relentless pounding, the cage squeezing, his cock swelling inside me. I shattered—orgasm ripping through without touch, cum spurting in weak, ruined pulses through the bars, soaking the couch. I sobbed with relief and shame.
He growled, spanked me hard twice, then gripped my waist like a vice and unloaded—hot, thick ropes flooding deep, pulse after pulse until it leaked out around his shaft. He stayed buried, grinding lazily, milking every drop.
Finally, he pulled out—slow, obscene wet sound—removed the cage with shaking hands, tossed it aside. Climbed on top, cocks sliding together, slick with cum and spit. We kissed deeply, messy, tongues tangling as our spent dicks rubbed in the mess.
“Come sleep in my bed tonight, baby. You’re not going home.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, already aching for the next round.
