By Taurus

Teddy Bear in a Toy Box

The other day, Master told me he’d invited someone over to play for a week. I asked him about it, but he never disclosed any more information than the fact that he was a male sub.

…I think I already know that Master is gay.

In all seriousness though, I felt really happy for him. Master has been trapped with me for a long time. Even though he says he loves me all the time, I’m sure at some point he gets burnt out and needs some space.

When the visitor arrived, Master led me in my best outfit to the door to meet him. I wore the beefiest shackles with the heaviest chains and the biggest plug I could keep in my ass. He put a leather harness on me, something which he saves for special occasions. Even my hair got the same special treatment. Master went to town on my beard and chest hair with a hairbrush to fluff it up.

And here I was, restrained in as much bondage as I could be in while still being able to move around, and with a beard like a dark brown cloud. I adore this look, and if we’re receiving guests I might as well show up at my best – in Master’s design. I was missing nipple clamps maybe, but that could make my chest look cluttered, so I’ll pass. For the last touch, Master fastened on a small red ball gag, pulled very tightly to put a dent in my beard. The red ball sank into my mouth, giving a contrasting but complimentary dash of colour to my dark brown hair.

Master held my leash in his right hand and walked me (who was on all fours) to the door, where I sat like a dog.

The sub showed up at 10 am, carrying a small backpack with a few sets of clothes.

As he came through the doorway, he looked at me momentarily, before standing at attention and looking at Master. Master commanded him to strip completely and put his backpack by the wall.

What a sight.

Typically, someone as deficient in the hair department as he was wouldn’t grab Master’s attention (not as much as someone who has my amount of fur in any case), since he had just the beard (which was just glorified stubble) and his torso was practically hairless. However, what he lacked in hair he made up in muscle and sheer size.

My eyes lit up; he was a bona fide bodybuilder. Broad shoulders, thick pecs, toned abs, tree trunk arms and legs. I thought I was big, but he was a giant. Looking down from the six pack abs a little, lo and behold, there was a chastity cage! Not nearly as form-fitting or as brutal as mine, which fits only over my fully flaccid cock and nobody else’s, but chastity is chastity, and it was good to see him take this step as a sub. Great fun, would recommend.

Master handed a bit gag and a (much smaller) butt plug from my collection to him, both of which he put on, albeit with some difficulty with the plug because his ass couldn’t relax.

We’d have this hottie in our home? For a whole week? Naked constantly as a slave?

Yes, Master! Thank you, Master!

Now that the gag and the plug were in, Master introduced us.

“Alec, this is Zach. Zach, Alec.”

We grunted at each other as we were introduced.

I assumed that Zach had already learnt the rules as Master let him explore the house. To my surprise, however, I wasn’t allowed to do that with him. Master took my leash and tied me to the dining table leg, where I sit for my meals, facing the wall. When I tried to turn myself around, I got a big slap in the face.

“Kneel and face the wall.”

Master walked with Zach, far, far out of my sight and hearing.

For the first time since knowing Master, I suddenly felt ashamed. And alone. The house has never seemed so quiet when I was by Master’s side.

I missed Master.

Worst of all, I started to hate Zach.

How dare Zach take my husband, my owner, my Master away from his most faithful slave!

Mercifully, this didn’t last forever, though I’m not sure if it’d actually be worse if it did go on forever.

After 15 minutes, my leash was untied and I was led to the dungeon, where Zach and I were knelt facing each other. I knelt in front of Zach, still in my “everyday” outfit while he was bound with rope.

Then came Master removing Zach’s gag and chastity cage, both of which stayed on for me. I looked on in envy as Zach got edged for half an hour. I tried to ask Master to set me free and stroke me too, but he answered with a slap again.

Eventually, we were untied (save the leash and the chains for me), and I was commanded to suck Zach off. Zach wrapped his hands around my head and skull-fucked me. Inevitably and very soon after (I like to believe that my blowjob skills are pretty good), he asked for permission to cum.

Master said yes, without any hesitation.

What?

How?

Why?

I was edged and ordered to lock my cage without release on my first day, in the sweltering heat of the summer sun, no less. My last cumshot Master let me have was over three months ago, but here he was, cumming on his first day?

“What the fuck made him so special?” I thought.

As I was distracted by my thoughts, a thick load of cum was shot down my throat. He pulled out, and before I could swallow everything in my mouth and react to him, Zach wiped the last drops of cum on my beard.

And my heart finally shattered. I held back my sobs.

Too reminiscent of Master wiping his cum all over me on that first day I hold sacred to this day. Whenever I have doubts, I look back on that day and my hope is renewed – I just have to give myself to him.

But this was too much.

I left the dungeon without emotion left in me, and I tied myself to the dining table again, waiting for lunch.

It was not a happy time. My back slumped over, completely dead inside, feeling discarded by my Master who I’ve only ever known love from. These slaps hurt my face, and rattled my soul.

I didn’t actually cry, but my drool symbolised it in a way. Anyway, I wiped it all up, since I’m the least important thing in this house.

Zach crawled up from behind, tapped my shoulder and said “sorry” (as best as one could through a bit gag), but the damage was done.

This didn’t seem like cuckold play. This felt like rape. Betrayal by the one you entrusted your entire life to.

I didn’t even have the strength to turn my head to look at that bodybuilder. His muscles were the stuff of my fantasies, but now they just fueled my disdain towards him.

How would I know if he really meant it when he said sorry? Slaves like me can and definitely will do a lot for an orgasm.

And how could he really understand what was going through my head? I got married with Master, I changed my name to “Alec” because Master chose it for me, I gave my cock to Master, I gave my body to Master, and I gave my heart to Master. Without Master, I’m worthless. How would a new sub know this feeling?

I sat, self-leashed to the table, having just seemingly lost my purpose to live.

Then it hit me: this was training.

Master always had a plan for me. He gives me what I need, not what I want.

I’ve gotten used to Master’s full attention, so now I must learn to do without it.

Yes, this was it! Being given attention was the exception, not the norm, and should be gratefully appreciated if I was given any. And I said it myself, I’m the least important thing in this house – that’s why I drool on myself! Of course that meant Zach was entitled to do anything he wanted to me!

This wasn’t cuckold play, this was training.

Ugh, how has this not come across my stupid, stupid mind?

It’s a painful, painful lesson to drill into my brain, but it’s a lesson to be learnt nonetheless. Better start soon!

After lunch, I asked Master if I could “punish myself honestly for being jealous of Zach, to make me remember that I am the least important thing in the house”. Graciously, he permitted it.

So my punishment for myself went a little like this. I’d stand or kneel, facing a plain wall, while I meditated. If any undesirable thoughts crossed my mind, I’d shock myself with a shock collar. I made sure I didn’t find it erotic in the slightest by asking Master to remove the gag, the plug and the leash, all of which turn me on immensely, for the duration of this training. A timer that goes off once an hour lets me keep track of time.

I also asked Master to have Zach on the bed with him, while I slept on the dungeon floor wrapped in a spare blanket, blindfolded and muzzled as commanded. Master agreed to cancel all of my play sessions to focus entirely on giving Zach a good time while I continued this punishment, in earshot of their noises, still facing the wall.

The three days I did this, I shocked myself no less than a hundred times it seems. It was torturous, but sometimes, pain can get results.

I stopped overhearing their sounds and started listening intently for ways I could help them, for example, getting them towels or a drink of water, or getting a toy from across the room. I stopped blocking out Zach and started to think about him and how I could help him have more fun.

I stopped associating Zach cumming into my mouth with unhappiness. If Master permitted it, then it’s the best course of events. Besides, he tasted pretty good.

I also forgot about my cumshot “schedule”, if there even was a schedule in the first place, and if you could even call it that. Master decides on a whim, but this time he was pretty adamant about not letting me have any release.

So, no cumming for me, that’s just the way things are, so get used to it.

Like I said, I’m just an object. If I’m Master’s teddy bear, then he has every right to put me back where I belong – back into the toy box – while he plays with something else.

I kept shocking myself on that last evening anyway, to really drill home the point, and as further punishment for having to arrange any of this at all.

When Master came back to the dungeon to check on me, he tapped on my shoulder to tell me to drop what I was doing. I was confused to see why he had no blanket for me.

After taking off what was left of my outfit (currently just the chain collar and the shock collar), he took my hand and led me into the bedroom. I’d planned to tell him tomorrow that I believe my punishment was more or less successful, but Master knew it anyway and decided otherwise.

“No need for your blindfold and your muzzle tonight. Just sleep like this.”

Master laid me to his left as usual, while he held me tightly. Zach slept to his right. For the first time in a while, I saw his hands travel all along my body as he spooned me. I even got to suck on his thumb for a while. I sucked slowly and gently, sometimes pushing it out for a light kiss or two, before I sucked it again – a technique I would use on cocks.

Almost by instinct, Master started running his hand in my hair, then leaned in for a kiss. The happiness I felt when he scratched right under my chin almost felt better than an orgasm.

These weren’t particularly spectacular moments in my slave life, but they were precious. These moments of affection were hard-earned, not simply given.

What a way to end my training to become more appreciative of Master’s attention.

The next few days were nothing but fun and joy for us slaves. Master let us remove our gags for chats, and he’d even put music on outside of play or training sessions.

Zach was curious about me, about everything I do and wear.

As I answered each question, his eyes got wider and wider.

I told him stories about my favourite sessions (there were many) and about how the leash and the chains came to be such a mainstay. Instinctively, I wiped my mouth on my arm, and I laughed at myself.

I distinctly remember saying, “Usually I’d drool by now.” Not something everyone can say.

Zach seemed confused about the drooling thing. Apparently he didn’t know better about the drooling rule, so I read him all the rules – stay naked, stay gagged, listen to Master, don’t try to have an orgasm without permission, don’t drool on anything.

I forgot to remind Master to text him the rules beforehand. I’ll do that for the next time we receive a sub visitor. Knowing Master though, he probably let Zach off of the drooling rule on purpose, because from what I’ve seen, he seems to be higher status than me anyway. If he made a mess, I’d probably be the one cleaning up for him.

He wanted lots more stories. I resolved to tell him only one, the only one he really needed to hear: the story of my first day as Master’s slave.

I told him how I met Master and became his casual player boy, how I became more devoted, then how I became a slave; how I was told to kneel in the sun while gagged and plugged, how frustrated I was when I was edged and commanded to lock up my cock without relief, but also how proud I was when I did.

I told him how Master blew his load all over my head and beard and chest, how cum, sweat, drool and possibly tears mixed together on my body, how I felt like dirt but also like gold at the same time.

He was impressed, as anyone should be.

In any case, it was time for him to talk.

Zach started by saying sorry again for cumming into my mouth, even though he already knew I felt dejected. He said that he couldn’t control himself, being an inexperienced sub, so he felt desperate to cum after (just) a week in chastity.

Everyone starts somewhere, I assured him. I wouldn’t be locked up for three months if I didn’t try a stint of three days before that.

I forgave him for cumming into my mouth too. It wasn’t really his choice anyway; Master took this as an opportunity to train me.

He was curious what I did to punish myself, since even if he was in the dungeon with me, he was blindfolded most of the time, and even if he wasn’t he couldn’t see or hear me clearly, being so engrossed in his session. I told him like it was.

His jaw dropped to the ground.

“What the shit…”

I moved closer to calm him down. “It’s my job as a slave to serve my master in any way I can.”

We spent the afternoon with Zach’s hand stroking the back of my neck where I shocked myself, a little to my amusement since it doesn’t feel as sore as a normal wound, but it was also really comforting to have a warm hand on the back of your neck.

Also, Master finally let me be in sessions with Zach in the last four days of his stay.

This time, I got as much attention as I wanted; I almost acted as the demo boy. Speaking of being a demo boy, I’d love to one day be bound and put on display. Only tried eating cum from a bar’s worth of people, never tried being a (soft, furry) sculpture for a bar’s worth of people. Anyway, back to the topic on hand.

Zach struggles to take flogging and he forgets to breathe deeply and rhythmically beyond 7 or 8 hits, and either Master or I have to remind him. Meanwhile, I clearly enjoy a bigger number of stronger lashes. Same goes with nipple clamps. He’ll pant and wheeze and draw big breaths with just the clamps on while I moan like I’m being stroked.

Anyway, it’s not a competition, and this was hardly a surprise. I had so much more experience than Zach did. Great fun to see someone as muscular as him get tormented though.

The last day Zach stayed was similar to the day he arrived, except I got edged too.

Master tried edging me with a new technique; he’d always be stroking me at some speed, never stopping to let me have any semblance of a breather, and fuck it was intense. I was kept right on the brink for minutes at a time, trembling and moaning uncontrollably with a blank mind that remembered nothing but cumming.

That said, I’ve learnt my lesson. Having an orgasm as a slave is something you can only dream about. I got locked right back up without release and I was commanded to suck Zach off again, this time happily.

We said goodbye to Zach much in the same way we greeted him. He gave me a firm hug and a ruffle through my hair before he left for the airport, while I sat like a dog and woofed at him through my gag. I’m not a pup, it’s just that the leash, the posture, everything felt right.

As the door closed, I felt that I missed Zach already. What a shame I couldn’t explore with and guide him in his sub space for longer – those muscles need to be tamed.

Master closed the day with a very concerning announcement as I knelt in front of the couch ungagged, facing my Master.

“So, slave, because you were jealous, I’ll give you a punishment that hopefully changes your mind. You’re not cumming until next year, and I’ve decided ‘next year’ will mean 31 December next year.”

I’ve been through a lot but this scares me. The three months have been frustrating as hell, and I can’t imagine what another fifteen months of chastity would feel like.

Still, if Master wants it, I’ll give it to him. I said “yes Master, thank you Master”, like I should. It’s a lot of suffering, but I’m obliged to make him happy.

Besides, this was also part of his training for me. He doesn’t give me what I want; he gives me what I need.

Master wasn’t finished though.

“But here’s a reward too.”

He pulled on my leash, obviously wanting me to climb slightly up onto the couch, which I did. I straddled his legs like a big dog.

He wrapped his arms around my torso, still with my leash in his hand, as if afraid I’m going to run away somehow.

I’m not running away, not for these words.

“Alec, listen to what I have to say, and don’t answer.

“You’re more than just a good boy. I honestly never thought you would catch that this was training and that you would punish yourself like you did. Now, I’m not angry. I’m very happy about it. I just want you to be careful if there’s a next time, don’t hurt yourself.”

Master pulled on the leash more until I was fully on the couch. His one free hand travelled to my head and he held it against his chest, a clear thump of a heartbeat in my ear. I felt perfectly at ease and safe.

Before he continued, he spanked my ass.

“Okay. I’m letting you know, you’re an idiot.

“You’re ‘low status.’ You kneel in front of shit and piss because they’re higher status, but shit and piss aren’t more important than you.

“You’re the most important thing in the world.”

Sometimes the things Master decides that I need are the things I want too.

I’ve been Master’s slave for so long that this isn’t just him saying he loves me anymore. It’s him telling me I’ve spent my life right.

And damn straight I spent it right! Nothing beats curling up in Master’s arms while he gives you all the love you’ll ever need.

With praise like that, who needs cumming anyway?

Metal would like to thank Taurus for this story!

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