Caged Fear

It was not the best feeling. Jessica, or Jess for short, was cold, cramped, but most distressingly alone. He had left her in her cage turning off the lights.

"Are you not afraid to spend the night alone, pet?" He asked before he put her in her cage.

"No Master. Your slave will not be afraid."

Jess was never Jess at home. She could call herself as her Master's slave, fucktoy, whore, cunt, slut, bitch or something similar, with the adjective "worthless" thrown with it if she feels like it. She knew her place in her Master's house. She had little to complain though.

She found each other on the internet. Then they started to talk. At the time her Master had another trainee sub but he took a liking to the petite suburban girl. She was twenty, had been in a troubling break up and he was much older. They started chatting and found that they had something going on. She was expecting a grown up man to take care of her and listen to her and control her. He took control of her emotional imbalance. Little by little they learned about each other and their fantasies. He gave her a new purpose in life. She was to serve him. She moved in six months ago after discussing what she wanted over a few weeks.

Jess felt alone. She needed him by her side. She had the option of calling him. There was a switch on the wall at a distance she could reach. It would ring an alarm in his bedroom. But on the other hand, she did not want to disappoint him. He wanted to show him that she was brave enough.

"But if you feel like you cannot do it just ring the alarm. I won't punish you for failure this time. You need to heal. You should overcome your fears"

"Thank you Master."

Then he left her in her small cage. There was a mat on which she could crawl and sleep and a bucket to which she could pee.

She lived stark naked the last few months of her life except when it got very cold or when they went out. She had a few dresses, bras, shirts and shorts left with her for the occasional walk or dinner out. That was her wardrobe.

She had spent long hours in her cage several times before but then there was always a light bulb on in her Master's dungeon. The dungeon, with its bed, St. Andrew's cross and various other paraphernalia was no strange place for her. But tonight she did not have the light and she was to stay the whole night caged. Well, that is what he said. She could not distinguish between day and night in the basement dungeon. But she knew he locked her up in her iron cage after dinner. She felt apprehension but she decided she was not going to fail. She will last the night.

She sat on the mat, pulled her knees up and hid her head between them. She calmed down after some time. All was quiet. Too quiet. She then fell on the mat. There was no pillow. She curled up and closed her eyes. Slowly she ran her fingers over her breast.

"You will have to earn some signs of ownership" she was told once. Her nipples were to be pierced. So will be her outer pussy lips. She will also get a tattoo just above her pussy. If he was certain about her ability to continue serving him, he will get a tattoo saying "slave". Her ass might also get a tattoo in small print. A barcode with his name could come behind her neck for all to see who owned the slut.

She was not so sure about the "slave" tattoo and the barcode yet. A "spank me" tattoo on her ass might not be too bad. But she still wanted to wear thongs to the beach. She was getting back her self confidence in some ways. It was strange but being his slave made it possible. It was removal of inhibitions which did it. Yes, she was happy in her life as his slave. For six months or so she had performed the role while learning. She was still learning. Alone in her dark cage, she was learning.

Did Jess want the tattoo? Did she contemplate life as his slave forever? A life where she would be naked 24/7, tattooed as a slave, pierced, chained, collared, leashed, caged, fucked, handcuffed, spanked, pissed on, gagged, plugged and what not. She had gone through it all in her training period. Except the collar, tattoos and piercings. But if she was to be accepted as his slave, she would be collared. The other items will follow suit.

She would be made to ask permission for everything she did. Even to speak. Was she prepared to be such an obedient slave?

Right now it did not matter. She was scared and needed him. She wondered if she should call him. No, she thought. She should not be that weak. She should be stronger than this.

Jess couldn't remember when she fell asleep. But she remembered when she awoke. It was when he had visited her. She called her by some name and she woke up.

"Master" she said, bringing her face closer to the iron bars.

"How are you little fuckpig?" he asked, reaching for her head through the iron bars. He patted her affectionately.

"It was better than fuckpig expected Master."

"Good. You are doing good."

"Thank you Master. Thank you for taking care of this worthless cunt."

"Come. Let's go for a little walk. Did you piss?"

"No Master. The piss bucket is empty."

"Then I am sure you would need to piss. Let's go to the backyard."

She crawled outside followed by her man. Her pussy and asshole were gloriously displayed as she crawled. Not that she cared for less. In the last six months, her Master had acquired enough knowledge of her anatomy. At first, she was embarrassed at the way she was asked to display herself. The rules were simple. No hiding and maximum exposure. She had to sit, stand or kneel with her legs as far apart as possible. Crawling could be done more elegantly but her ass should be up and exposed. She had nothing to hide and her holes were to be readily available. That was the second rule of her dress code. The first rule was the dress code itself. Always naked at home and other suitably private places. No panties 24/7.

She crouched at her usual place and pissed. There was no reason to be ashamed of. Her Master had trained her to pee even in his presence. He merely glanced at the stream of piss and patted her head. Once she had finished, he gave her a tissue from his pocket. She wiped off her pussy and looked at him. He smiled.

"Stand up!"

She obeyed. He lifted her up as she wrapped her hands around his neck. He took her inside and put her on the couch. She threw her legs wide open. It was the rule. It suited him too. Usually he would just fuck her. But not today. Today was her day. He went down on her and searched for her clit with his tongue. For a change, the slave was in ecstacy.

"May I come Sir" she asked as she was approaching climax.

"Yes my fucktoy. You may come!"

"Thank you Sir. Thank you!" And she exploded.

"It was the gift for overcoming your fears last night," he said.

After the shattering orgasm, he sat down beside her and cuddled her. She felt blissful. She was not alone anymore.