Confessions of a Chastity Slave

I was blushing bright red, but I gulped it down, felt his seed slide warmly down my throat. And realized something: Master was right. I had liked it. It was gross, but it gave me a sense of feminine submission that nothing else ever had. I wanted to get better at it.

Master stroked my face, my head. "Good girl, good pet." He sat back down on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, looking down at me on the floor. I kneeled in silence for a moment, but then I had to ask. He was likely to be most merciful right after he came, and he had promised to let me out of the tube today, after all.

"Master?" I said, so softly that even I almost couldn't hear it.

"Hmm?"

Choosing my words carefully, I said in a meek voice, "Master, your adoring slave humbly requests that you give her the key to her chastity tube, as you promised."

Master looked surprised. "What? I didn't promise you that, girl."

He was right, of course. "Forgive me, Master. The key is of course yours to keep, as is the tube, and your humble slave's body. But please unlock your obedient, loving slave as you promised to do."

Master shook his head slowly. "I promised you no such thing, slave. I promised you release, slave, and I will keep that promise." I didn't understand, but my blood ran cold. "But you're a slavegirl now. Isn't that right, slave?"

"Y-yes, Master, of course, Master, but --"

"And little slavegirls don't have cocks, do they?"

I started to weep. Through hot tears, I said, "..no, Master."

"There's only going to be one cock in this relationship -- mine. You stay in the tube. You might as well forget about your pathetic little penis, because you lost it forever the moment you put that tube on. You'll never have another erection again. All you have now is a soft little boy-clit. And do you know why, my darling little slave?"

I was sobbing, hard. All I could do was shake my head.

"Because this is your fantasy. And because I'm a compassionate Master, I'm going to make it come true for you. But don't be afraid, slave. You'll still get to cum once in a while."

"But-- but how?"

"Come here, and I'll show you. Up, on the bed."

I clambered slowly up onto the bed as he beckoned. I hid my face from him, ashamed of my flowing tears. I couldn't sit, because my ass was still raw and stinging, so I just lay on my stomach.

Master slid me to the center of the bed with his strong hands. I felt him moving behind me, but with my face buried in the sheets I couldn't tell what he was doing. I didn't care; I didn't have the strength or will to attempt to resist any more. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me up, so I was on my knees with my face down and my ass in the air. Then he spread my legs, gently, and carefully parted my buttocks, making sure not to touch the reddened cheeks.

And then I felt his tongue, wet and soft, rubbing up and down the cleft of my ass. I shivered at the sensation, so powerful and yet so delicate, on my most secret place. Nobody had ever done anything like this to me before. Master focused in and lapped at my tight asshole, wetting it, making me aware how tightly it was clenched.

The feeling was almost overpowering, and definitely pleasureable, though very strange. I gripped at the sheets and moaned softly. Master licked persistently, and I felt my ass respond to him, loosening up.

I gasped when he pushed the tip of his tongue into me briefly. Master kept at it, and I felt my whole body relaxing, particularly my rear. All I could do was lie there and whimper in pleasure.

Under Master's tonguing, my rear began to tingle and throb in a way I'd never experienced before. It felt very, very good, the closest thing to a sexual sensation I'd had in a month. My lust was screamingly out of control, my boy-clit completely engorged in its metal prison, and I became aware of a certain erogenous itch I'd never noticed before in my rear. I had known Master would inevitably take my ass if I gave myself to him, and I had always imagined being anally fucked would be humiliating and painful and utterly unenjoyable. Certainly it had been that way for the only girl I'd ever tried it with, when I'd been a straight boy. Now, with his wide, wet, dextrous tongue, Master was making me understand that it didn't have to be that way. And before I knew it, I found myself panting, "...oh god, fuck me, fuck me, Master, please..."

He paused and sat up. I could hear the amusement in his voice. "You're not ready, slut. I'd break you in half if I stuck my big old cock in your tiny little ass. But a virgin little cockhole like you needs something in there, that's for sure."

And he was right, I did. My asshole felt gapingly wide and empty now that he had stopped lapping at it. Then I felt Master dribbling something down my crack, squirting it into my gaping rear. He smeared it around, coating his long index finger in the process.

"Now spread wide, slave. Breathe deep. Try to relax. You're going to love this."

I followed his instructions, holding very still, concentrating just on my thoughts. And then I felt the tip of Master's finger slide into me. The feeling was almost overwhelming. I gripped the sheets tightly as my ass clenched involuntarily around him. My rectum was extremely sensitive; I could feel the edges of his fingernail. I probably could have read Braille if it had been on there. I just breathed. Master paused there, waiting for me to relax again, and when I did he slid in a bit further. This repeated for a few minutes, Master pushing in, waiting for me to relax, then pushing just a little more, adding more lube as necessary. All I could do was whimper, a nonverbal plea for him to keep being gentle. His finger felt huge, the way I would have imagined a cock would feel. I was very glad he wasn't fucking me. Yet.

"Good, good girl... easy... you like that, don't you, having something in your ass. Now another."

And Master repeated, this time using two fingers. It was easier this time; I felt very relaxed, almost sleepy, from the deep breathing. The contractions of my ass grew softer, welcomed him in. Master chuckled, then began finger-fucking me with delicious slowness. I let out a low, long moan. The feeling was agonizing, uncomfortable, like a slow burn in my rim, but somehow pleasurable. I could feel my boy-clit throbbing with excitement in its tube, and something in my rear I'd never been aware of before was throbbing with it. And every time Master's finger brushed by that spot, it felt sooooooo good. I sighed and groaned, feeling completely submissive.

Master, gauging my soft noises of pleasure, gradually zeroed in on that one tingly spot deep inside me, rubbing and massaging at it with his lubed fingertips. I gasped and arched my back involuntarily, found myself pushing back against his hand. I felt very tight and hot and full, and that spot deeply ached. "Mmm... there it is. You like that? When I rub your little slave-spot?" I could only groan incoherently. Master kept rubbing, pushing, for what seemed like an eternity. There was a month of lust stored up inside me, and it was screaming, building by the moment. I still felt a million miles from orgasm, though; my penis was still small and trapped and cold in its cage, and there was a stretching uncomfortable pain that was impossible to ignore.

Master didn't give up; he kept working his fingers inside me, massaging firmly, quickly, with an insistent rhythm. He whispered filthy things from my fantasies, about how I was his little cumslut, how I'd serve him forever, how he'd already begun transforming me into the perfect little slavegirl. He reached around and grabbed my balls and imprisoned boy-clit, my little slave-mound, and kneaded it gently in his left hand as he worked my ass with his right.

And at last, I felt that slave-spot inside me begin to spasm wildly. A flash of heat, centered there in my ass, rocked through my body and my mind. I think I was shrieking; I don't remember. My asshole clenched tightly around Master's wonderful fingers, and that spot kept spasming hard, with unbelievable force, and each time it sent a wave of relief through me. I was having an orgasm, for the first time in ages, and it was utterly unlike any I'd ever had before. Cum was pouring out of me, into Master's hand, which still firmly cupped my quivering slave-mound. My whole body shuddered and shook with it. It lasted much longer than a normal orgasm, almost a minute, and even after the cum stopped leaking out of my chastity tube I could feel my ass and slave-spot spasming.

With his firm arm, Master rolled me onto my side, then laid down behind me, holding my shivering, quivering body against his as I came. He held his left hand up to my mouth, and I licked my hot cum off his palm, slurping and lapping gratefully. I think I fainted or dozed; I'm not sure which.

Then Master was talking to me. "Did you like your release, little girl?"

In a weak voice, I said, "Ohh, yes, Master, thank you, Master. But..."

"But what?"

"But there was no, you know, pleasure, Master. In my pe.. my boy-clit. I couldn't feel anything at all inside the tube."

Master let out a gruff chuckle. "Of course not. That's the whole idea. You feel the relief, right?"

I did. The screaming lust of the past month was gone, replaced by the wet, loose, sated feeling in my rear and a pleasant sleepiness inside my chastity tube. "Well, yes, Master, but..."

"But that's a slave's orgasm, the relief. You can forget about the other kind of orgasms. You'll never have one again," he said, matter-of-factly.

Previously that had been a terrifying thought. But now I understood how that could be.

"And once a month is probably a good frequency for your slave-orgasms. That should be more than enough. At least while you're learning your place."

"But... but Master, I need..."

"Shut up." He sighed and pulled me closer to him. I could feel his hot, hard cock pushing against my sore ass now. "Just say Yes, Master like a good little girl."

Another flush of shame as I did. "Yes, Master." How had I gone from being a free man to this? I loved Master for doing it to me. Master chuckled. "I was worried, slave. I thought I wasn't going to be able to give you your release without freeing your little boy-clit and letting you rub yourself off. Almost unlocked you. And then I would have had to let you do that every time you needed a milking. But you didn't disappoint, little slut. You like it in the ass enough that you'll never get to feel a hand on your penis again. I knew you would. You're made to be penetrated."

I was horrified at how close I'd come to having a real orgasm. If only I had held off, fought the feeling... And now I'd never get out...

Master chuckled again, then said, "You know, my sweet little slave, you're probably going to be in that thing for at least a year anyway. And if you ever get out, you can be sure your boy-clit won't work any more. If you even still have it."

"I know, Master."

"Hmm? Then why didn't you take my offer?"

"Because I want to be your slave, Master. I wanna be your fine sweet-ass bitch."

Master mmmmmed in approval. "Oh, you are, slut. You are." And then I felt him rubbing his rock-hard, huge cock up and down my well-lubed asscrack. "You are such a dirty little cockslut. I was going to wait and break you in gradually, but sluts like you just demand a hard fuck in the ass, right?"

And before I could react, Master rolled me back onto my knees, with my head down and my red ass in the air. I gasped in surprise: he was just so strong, he did it so easily. And then, just as easily, he pushed his hard cock into my loose, lubed rear. I cried out as he did. He was huge, and my little rear felt like it was about to tear. I struggled, tried to get to all fours so I could crawl away, something, but Master grabbed me firmly by the neck and forced my head back down to the bed. Then he solidly thrust into me, penetrating me more deeply than I had thought possible. I moaned in anguish, but this only seemed to make Master more excited. He thrust again. And again. And again. Gaining speed. And each time I let out a pathetic whimper that only encouraged him.

I was getting fucked in the ass, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to relax and breathe deeply as I had done before, but it didn't help. Master's thick, long shaft had split and stretched me. No amount of relaxation could lessen the pain as he continued, working in faster and deeper, and when his hips hit my sore buttocks those stung all over again. Master was using my body to satisfy his own pleasure, hurting and violating me in the process. Was I being raped? Maybe, but the worst part was that despite the pain and humiliation, I found I liked it, that my boy-clit was responding in its little tube again. With every thrust, Master was proving that I was now his bitch slave, and there was nothing he couldn't do to me if he wanted.

The pain grew and grew, until I thought I couldn't bear it any more. But Master kept going, parting my buttocks with his rough hands. So there was nothing for me to do but take it and try to ignore the pulsing lust that grew in my trapped penis, back so quickly after a short reprieve, undeniable proof that I loved being abused like this, being mercilessly pounded in the ass. I gasped and squealed and cried out until my voice was hoarse, but Master kept going. He bent over me and pinched my nipples as he thrust away, making me squirm, but there was no way to escape. This was the worst humiliation of all, having my body selfishly used for Master's pleasure, unable to do anything but lie there and enjoy it in spite of the pain.

Master's breathing roughened, and the thrusting reached an unbearable pitch. And then he let out a groan of pleasure, and with a final thrust, I felt his cock throb inside me as he squirted me full of his hot cum. He gave me a few final panting thrusts, and pulled out. I couldn't move, only lie there and gasp. My rear was achingly hollow, gapingly wide. It felt like Master had ruined it, like it would never close again. And it didn't close, because before I knew it, Master was shoving something else into me. I thought for one awful moment that Master was going to fuck me again. But this thing, whatever it was, was a lot smaller than his cock. It was almost comfortable by comparison. Then he spoke, still somewhat out of breath. "Get used to having a plug in there, bitch. We're gonna have to make that asshole a few sizes bigger, if you're ever going to learn to cum from being fucked in the ass."

Cum from that? It seemed impossible. The idea of being fucked in the ass was sexy, but the feeling itself was brutal. Then Master rolled me over onto my side again, and laid down beside me, looking into my teary eyes. I didn't dare look away.

"So tell me, girl. Did you like your first taste of slavesex?"

And I nodded. It had turned me on.

He grinned. "That's good. Because it's the only kind of sex you'll be having, for the rest of your life. The kind where you get filled with a cock, and then filled with cum. And you know why?"

I sniffled. "Because I'm a bitch slave, and I wouldn't want it any other way, Master."

He ruffled my hair in a gesture of affection, then encircled me in his brawny arms, drawing me close. I snuggled against his chest. "You did good, girl. I know that must have hurt you. It always hurts girls their first time. But we'll get you broken in. It can only get better, hm?"

"Yes, Master."

He held me against him, and I laid there. There was nothing else I could do. Eventually, I slept.

When I woke, morning light was streaming in through the blinds. For a minute before I opened my eyes, I wondered if the past night had been real. But the condition of my body removed all doubt. My scalp hurt, from where Master had pulled my hair. My nipples were sore. My arms, from the struggle. My boy-clit throbbed in its usual morning excitement inside its prison. My knees were shot from all the kneeling I had done. My asscheeks felt even more stingy than yesterday; the pain had settled in, and I was sure they were both bruised and purple. And my rear, still stuffed full of buttplug, felt like it was destroyed. My mouth tasted like cum -- Master's and mine -- and I realized with shame and excitement that Master's jizz was still in my ass.

And Master lay next to me, snoring rhythmically. For a while, I was afraid to move, worried I would wake him up. But I had to pee, and I couldn't ignore it for long. So I got up, very carefully, without making a sound. My legs ached and almost buckled when I stood up, but quiet as a mouse, I limped my way into the bathroom, shut the door, and flicked on the light. The bathroom was huge and clean, all gleaming white marble. I felt anxiety rising inside me.

Okay, I thought to myself, you have to get out of here. You have to get out of here, or you're gonna be that black man's slave for life. You loved last night -- it's okay, you can admit that to yourself -- but deep down you're still really a straight boy. What you really like is fucking girls, not being fucked like one, even though, yes, last night was the most intense sexual experience of your life. But nobody could live like this, kept as a chastized feminized cockslave. So now you have to clean yourself up, get your clothes, find that key, and get the hell out of here. Before Master wakes up.

The first thing I did was gargle softly with some mouthwash. I swished till it burned, but it got the cum taste out of my mouth well enough. Then, balancing myself against the sink with one hand, I reached around and tugged at the plug in my rear. My asshole was sore and raw, and pulling at the plug made the ache back there unbelievable.

But at last it pulled free. I felt a dribble of Master's cum leak out of me back there, and I shivered. I couldn't sit on the toilet like a girl, the way I had for over a month now, because my asscheeks were too sore. So I squatted while my Master's cum leaked out of my abused anus. Then I washed myself up in the sink, afraid that the noise of the shower would wake Master. One glance in the mirror confirmed that, yes, my ass was covered with purple marks. I could even make out a clear handprint on the left cheek.

I didn't want to, but then I took the plug and slid it back into my bruised rear, biting off a moan as I did. If Master woke up before I left, I was going to be in enough trouble. I didn't need to make it worse by getting caught without the plug in.

All right. I felt a little better, a little cleaner. Now if I could just find the key... it was probably in his pants. Maybe even on his keyring. I opened the door, very slowly and carefully, and stepped out into the room. I felt very vulnerable, naked except for the chastity tube, which was somehow worse than being completely naked.

I looked at my sleeping Master, lying there in bed, his naked dark flesh, his semi-stiff cock bigger than mine had ever been. And the smart part of my mind screamed to find the key and run, to get out, but my heart and my cursed boy-clit demurred. I loved him already, pathetically, helplessly, and I wanted to be his slave. I had given myself to him, and he owned me. All that was left was to serve. And so I padded softly over to the bed, climbed back in, and curled up against him.

Master was still asleep. I couldn't fall back asleep, because I was sore and horny. As I lay there, I found my attention drawn back to Master's cock. It was just so big and black and thick... Well, if I couldn't play with my own any more, at least I had Master's. I slid down between Master's legs and began stroking him gently, watching with amusement at how quickly he stiffened. Master shifted and groaned softly, but didn't wake. I ran my eyes up and down his shaft hungrily. It had to be ten inches, at least. I thought then that God had cheated me, giving me such a tiny white dingaling when there were huge man-cocks like this in the world. And this one owned me, could penetrate my mouth or ass whenever it wanted...