Services Rendered

Slave Del Muerto was aching for days. Doing his chores and Keeping his Mistress's affairs in order. She'd ordered five new Slave Dolls and it was his job to make their schedules. Arrange their lodgings and get them up in time for training every day, dressed and cleaned to Mistress's expectations. As well as keep everything tidy about himself. And honor the one rule. No climaxing without permission. Wet dreams were not in his control, but given how much he loved and respected his mistress, even his wet dreams were obedient

It had been days. He needed time in his climax closet.

Desperately.

Taking a deep breath, as he prepared Doll Slave 757892- BJD Beta for her Experimental Medical Trials, He was nearly finished getting her cleaned and ready, when he suddenly saw his Mistress standing there, with her neutral unreadable stoic expression. "You have an extra twenty-five minutes, Slave Del Muerto. When is the last time you've been to your climax closet?"

"Several days, ma'am."

"Hm, well, you have twenty-five minutes, no more, no less. Go tend to yourself, and then be back and ready to work without a peep, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mistress."

And then she took a set of two keys off her key ring and handed them to him. Before he accepted the keys, his hand still outstretched, she held her hand back just a bit out of reach.

"Twenty-five minutes. Not a second more."

"Not a second more."

"What does a grateful slave say?"

"Thank you for allowing me time to pleasure myself, Mistress"

"You've been sullen and pitiful for days, that's why the extra five minutes, now go and deal with it, Get out of my face.."

She shook and wagged the keys at him. He accepted the keys with a bow and then walked away at a quick pace to his quarters, where he unlocked the small closet in the corner of the room. And then closed the door behind him. The motion sense light was activated in the small stall of a closet, there was a chair, and a mirror as well as one drawer where his toys and lubricant were kept. On the chair, there was a box, wrapped - a gift. He felt his eyes get wider.

"She remembered," he whispered, voice hoarse and strangely weepy, he set the keys in his pocket and opened the box. To find a silicone sleeve for him to use. It was jiggly and matched the complexion of his mistress down to every nuance it could hold the light.

He opened the drawer and set the box on it, and turned around to face the mirror, he pressed the button turning on the camera, and then unbuttoned his belt and his slacks and pulled his pants down, taking the key ring out of the pocket, he sat down and with the second key, he unlocked the chastity cage around his dick. He then set it in the drawer, the sleeve felt heavy and warm in his hand, like it was real.

He glanced at the timer that had activated when he entered and saw he had twenty-three minutes left. He reached in the drawer for the lubricant and squeezed some into the sleeve and more on his palm, to rub it on his touch-starved dick.

One minute and forty seconds for it to get achingly hard. He was always slow to rise but right now it had been days and he had a little over twenty minutes left, he slid the sleeve over his dick and sighed hard before he started to fuck the silicone pussy - holding the ass cheeks of it with both hands.

He bit his lip and groaned passionately as he felt his hips buck up and off the chair, his knees were trembling. It felt so good, he wanted to stand and ram into it against the wall of his closet but his knees surely would not be able to hold him.

"Oh mistress..." he whimpered and gritted his teeth, ramming the toy harder and harder, sweat started to shine on his forehead.

Fifteen minutes, and 59 seconds... 58.... 57 ...

Lifting his shirt, he ran a hand over his pecs, his hungry, pointy nipples needing to be licked, kissed, and played with. The ache of denial, the built up of watching her sashay around the house all day and all damn night, listening to her fuck someone else, everyone else, anyone but him, it was all fucked out, the frustration the duty, the service, the gratitude, the everything, just got rammed into that jiggling thing.

Ten minutes and eight seconds left... seven ... six ... five...

He had to make himself cum, he had to, taking the edge off wouldn't be enough, he needed complete cathartic, climatic release.

Nine minutes

He closed his eyes and tried to let himself focus on anything hot and heavy, the big things, just basically button-mashing the hotkeys to his libido to get him there as fast as possible. His breath was hot and harsh in contrast to hearing the squish and squeak sounds of his stroking. It was so wrong how she regulated his life this way. But oh, did he love it. The order, the service, the humiliation and shame, the restriction. The dismissal, and how even within all that, she thought of him. She thought of him enough to dismiss him, she thought of him enough to humiliate him by making him jerk off in this damn closet

But what ultimately brought him, with three minutes and seventeen seconds left was that she fucking remembered his damn birthday, when no one else in the house, no one else in his life even knew or thought to ask, she gave him this, on the one day of the year that was his in her world, she gave him five extra minutes, a custom toy for him and him alone to use and it was made in her image. Like the goddess she was, he gave her his worship, his praise, his adulation, and his orgasm, as the clock screeched into two minutes and eight seconds, he was gasping and dripping into the silicone, everything felt so much better, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep off the afterglow. But ....

One minute and eleven seconds ... ten seconds ... nine ...

He quickly cleaned up and locked himself back up, turned off the recording. And Exited the closet, locking it back up as well. He washed his face briefly and fixed his clothes before he went back to perform his duties. Around dinner time, he found the Mistress to give her the keys back, and she looked at him, looked at the keys. And then shook her head.

"Keep it. Call it your Tenure. You only get twenty-five minutes this year, next year you get twenty-six. One minute for every year of service you've given me" She then reached and caressed the side of his face and he trembled when she leaned in to whisper in his ear,

"There isn't a slave I value more than you, Del Muerto. Happy Birthday. I hope you continue to serve me well."

And as she pulled back to look at his face, she wiped his cheek of the tear that had fallen. "Go put the dolls to bed. And then yourself, Your services will be required for another day. I expect to see you on time for your duties tomorrow."

"Bright and Early, Mistress."

"Very good."

And she waved her hand dismissing him from her presence. And he went to do his duty. And that night as he still had the keys, he unlocked his cage and set the keys and the cage on the bedside table, climbing into his bed naked as the day he was born, he closed his eyes and let his hands caress his body until he fell asleep, feeling not just free and valued in his servitude, but also feeling loved. Loved in the way he needed to be loved. With Order. And Dismissive Grace.