Unfuckable

The toy had to be cold by the time he'd wiped down the counters and stove top, scrubbed the sink and drain, cleaned the fridge and tidied the pantry, but the slave continued to rub happily against the polyester fur. When he got back from cleaning the bathroom, it had moved on to one of the puzzle games kept nearby. This one was new, and the slave struggled to move the pieces into place and gain access to the sugar pills hidden inside. Henry had felt a bit bad watching these types of activities at first; the slave had been on track to graduate college before becoming the slave, and they'd made it into little more than an animal. Now, however, it just seemed natural.

Boredom had been the must difficult thing to train the slave to accept, and the mind still sometimes rebelled. Other times, he was amazed at the slice small of reality it seemed content to occupy. Right now, for example, he was unable to tell whether the slave was listening to the podcast he was currently streaming, or if it was all meaningless background noise. Lunchtime rolled around--a sandwich for him and nothing for the slave--with only the mopping left to do. He locked the slave behind the french doors of the carpeted family room for this part.

When he was at last finished, he crashed on the leather couch. Henry couldn't explain the feeling he got from completing his list of things to do. It was a lightness, a sense of pride and accomplishment that made him feel good. And for such a mundane thing as cleaning! Not a single one of his many awards for healthcare innovation had ever inspired such overwhelming emotion, such bone-deep fulfillment. The only thing better was making his wife cum.

His dick twitched at the thought. If he wanted to, he could... No. His wife had been generous enough to allow him one orgasm per day while she was traveling, and he was not going to waste it on some frivolous midday fap. She'd be disappointed by his lack of control. Instead, he grabbed this month's copy of his favorite magazine from where he'd left it on the coffee table, and immersed himself in the science and politics of CRISPR-edited fish for human consumption. The slave explored its surroundings, despite knowing them quite well, before settling at his feet. Not touching, of course, until he lifted his foot out of his slipper and brushed his toes across the slave lips to signal it could do so. It loved this more than the heated toy, and he didn't mind the way it caressed him with the mouth as long as there wasn't too much drool.

Dinner was nothing special. Though Henry had become a rather accomplished cook, there was little joy in preparing a meal for one. He watched the sun set on the patio, the cold morning having turned into an unsurprisingly temperate day. Most evenings, the slave was present while Henry and his wife had sex, primarily for cleanup purposes. He would eat out his gorgeous wife for however long she desired, and when he was finally able to spend his seed into her pretty pussy, the slave would crawl over and slurp it all up. It was extremely erotic, even if a very male part of him rebelled at the fate of his creampie.

Taking the slave into their room felt wrong without his wife there, so he led it back to the gym instead. He'd been trying not to think about the gift his wife had given him in the car before catching her plane, but now it was forefront in his mind. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. The slave was back in the gynecological chair, but instead of the stirrups, he locked the ankle cuffs on either side of the head. Being folded in half with the corset still on looked uncomfortable, but Henry didn't much care.

He played with the slave nipples a bit, just to get them both in the mood. Well, it was more of a state change than a mood for the slave. From experiment, to pet, to plaything--these various mindsets were subtle but different.

There had been a long adjustment period to the orgasm denial during which the slave had been like a frenzied little chihuahua, trying to rub against anything in vicinity. Now just a couple tweaks to the deformed nipples caused the cunt to weep desperately. Henry's new curio would look comical shoved between the beefy slave curtains, but with the cervix in the way, it was too long to fit. The ass would do just fine, and he set about deflating and removing the plug. However, after generously covering his toy's hard plastic shaft with silicone lubricant and inserting it into the slave, it was obvious the hole would need to be tightened so that the object did not get lost inside.

Henry wedged a shorter suction cup between the butt cheeks, this time opting for the manual handheld pump. Though the anus had certainly seen better days, the tissue was still delicate. Too hard a pressure could cause fissures or hemorrhoids, which he would have to care for. Duration was more important than force in this case, and the already prominent anal ring soon resembled an inflatable swimming pool arm floatie. When he was done, he pushed the toy back in a bit so that none of the black casing peeked out.

What a view, he thought. His wife's gorgeous pussy, rendered in soft pink rubber and framed by the swollen slave sphincter. The neat lips of the fleshlight made the monstrosity jiggling above it look even more absurd. Henry took a photo for his wife, looked at it, then wiped off the lens of his phone camera with his shirt and took a second.

In a surge of inspiration, he fetched two of the six inch clamps he had 3D printed. Attaching them to the middle set of lips on the slave cunt would be the most painful--obviously, since it wasn't supposed to exist--but the outer would provide the security needed for his idea. He screwed down the wingnuts until the flesh was visibly compressed and flushed red before knotting cords through the cut outs behind the jaws of each bracket.

Henry took out his dick and applied diluted chili oil to his balls. After short consideration, he rubbed it down his shaft as well, right up to the ridge of his circumcised corona. He enjoyed the warming sensation as long as it wasn't too intense and didn't get into his piss hole. It was safe for internal use, but very unpleasant. Useful when training a slave not to orgasm, however. After he had applied enough to absorb into his skin but still tingle, he coated himself in a water-based lubricant. He notched his dick against the bas-relief of his wife's pussy before realizing the inside of the toy probably needed its own coating of grease to make it feel more lifelike. There was a nozzle around here somewhere...

A liberal amount of liquid later and he was ready. Back in position, he wrapped the cords connected to the clamps around his palms several times each, and, rather than push into the inviting opening, he pulled the slave onto his member. Henry's clenched fists were at his hips by the time he was fully seated, the slave lips stretched into a shiny skin tube of ludicrous proportion. Maybe he would recommend introducing a lengthening protocol using weights to supersize the cunt in another direction... Later.

The inside of the toy was remarkably realistic, although nowhere near as nice as the real thing. "Does the slave know what I'm doing right now?" he asked out loud between backing himself out and tugging himself back in. It was rhetorical question, of course--the blinded slave had absolutely no idea what was happening other than the fact that it was being used. "I'm using the ruined slave hole to fuck Mistress' pussy. But it wasn't even usable enough to perform that function on it's own, was it? I had to make it tighter for it to be useful at all." The latex mask made it impossible to see any facial expressions, but the extra-long tongue was lolling out of the open mouth. Humiliation was as close as the slave got to pleasure, and it rejoiced in his words.

"Does the slave remember what Mistress' pussy looks like?" he continued. "It's gorgeous, unlike the slave cunt. With tiny little lips and a perfect pearl of a clit. Even making love to a fake version of it feels better than than sticking your dick in the slave." Henry was mostly able to defer his own orgasm until his wife was done using his cock, but besides his verbal tirade, there was no real point to do so now. His movements grew increasingly violent until he groaned with his release, cum filling the plastic receptacle in several satisfying spurts.

Henry smiled as he pulled out, taking the toy with him so he could squeeze the rest of his jizz into it. As he did so, he stared at the vacated slave hole that now looked like a wrinkly, underproofed donut. On a whim, he swiped a finger over his lube-wet dick and used it to coat the asshole in front of him. There, that was better. No one liked an unglazed pastry.

"Look at these pathetic, unfuckable holes," Henry tsked, channeling his wife. "Good thing at least one of them is still serviceable for something." The slave knew exactly which one he referred to, and it eagerly opened the mouth for a deposit, making desperate little whines. This was the only thing it was allowed to beg for, as long as it was polite. Not one to withhold charity from the needy, Henry brought the fleshlight to those hopeful, waiting lips. The mixture inside had to be at least two parts lube to one part cum, but the slave sucked it down as if it was the most delicious drink in the world, lovingly tonguing each and every crevice it could reach, ecstatic in this one way it could provide service to the Mistress that owned it.