Cindy's Humble Servant Ch. 06

Brian continued: "If you want to be my slave, I will give you that chance, but don't forget what you are asking me to do. Don't pretend I am the bad guy here: I'm only doing you a favor. I don't need a slave. You are the pervert, the faggot, who begged me to help you."

Cindy was nodding in agreement, her jaw set forward firmly.

"If you want to be a slave, I will treat you like a slave. If you don't want to be a slave, just say the word and it is finished. What will it be?"

Peter was utterly abashed, utterly humbled. Still holding up his skirt to present himself, he squeaked: "I want to be your slave, Master."

Cindy' lip lifted at one side in disgust, and she looked back at Brian and nodded her head, as if to say "it's like you said." Brian and Cindy exchanged eye contact for a few moments, and then Master said "If you want to be my slave, you will need to follow my rules. You have made a few mistakes recently, and you will be sent to Laura to be punished for this. Cindy will give you the details on Monday." Cindy looked up at Peter strictly, and he met her merciless gaze for a moment, before looking back at Master.

"Now," Master continued, "you can get back to work, and finish your chores. Cindy and I will be going out in a while, and we won't be back till later. You can let yourself out when you're done, and lock the door behind you. If you're hungry, you can make yourself a sandwich. When you're ready to leave, there's a grey tracksuit in the room where you found your outfit. Wear this over your maid's outfit when you go home. In the future, you will be responsible for keeping your slave things clean, and when you are asked to visit someone as my slave, you will travel there with the maids outfit under the grey tracksuit you have been given. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," Peter said meekly.

"Ok, now get to work."

"Thank you Master." Peter curtsied to Cindy and Brian, and then went to hand wash Brian's socks and underpants. Cindy and Brian went to the bedroom for a while. From the occasional sound of giggles, Peter presumed that they were making love. His poor cock attempted to rise, but was immediately chastened by the confines of the pink device.

After some time, Cindy and Brian came out of the bedroom. Cindy was dressed casually, in a blouse, tight, faded jeans and short leather boots. She was ravishing. Since she had been with Brian, she had begun to pay more attention to her appearance, and the beauty that Peter had always thought was hidden, that he felt he had found through his own acute powers of observation, was no longer a secret, but was obvious to anyone who saw her. She was so far out of Peter's league.

Cindy and Brian came and stood in front of Peter, and Peter put down the mop and stood to attention. Cindy was smiling, revealing an exquisite map of dimples. Peter's cock attempted to raise itself again, and it seemed to rage blindly inside the cage. It was such sweet pain for him to see Cindy. He was afraid of her, and at the same time he longed only for her.

"Just remember to lock up when you finish. Have a nice day."

Peter curtsied and said "Thank you, Master."

Cindy looked him in the eye, and smiled like a cat, but said nothing. Brian and Cindy left the room. He saw for a moment Cindy's perfect, arrogant ass before the door closed behind them. Peter wanted so much to start tugging at his cock again. His heart felt so heavy when he realized that he could not.

After a while, he snuck into Master's bedroom. He found a pair of Cindy's panties in the corner. He put these to his face, and breathed deeply. Her aroma was earthy and intoxicating. His cock began to grow, causing him terrible pain. He was torn between the pain and the need to smell Cindy's underpants. He pressed the panties to his face, while he groaned and cried from the pain in his frustrated and blindly raging cock. More than anything he needed to pump his cock until he came, but he could not. Oh, the cruel irony of this yellow happy face!

He could bear the pain no more, and he put the panties down, and went to complete his tasks. He recognized that only work would set him free; that only by losing himself in his chores could he avoid the agony of his cock swelling in its cage. He was utterly chastened: he truly was a slave.

He finished his work, and put the ragged, baggy grey track suit on over his maid's outfit. He put the wig and the cock sucker collar in a bag, and carried these with him. He locked the door behind himself, and went home.

That night, and Sunday night, he could not sleep. He just rolled around and around in his bed, agonizing over his wretched condition.