You Are Going To Thank Me

I smiled at Claire, blushing through the many compliments she directed at my outfit for the evening. After seeing the cutest black and white polka dot skirt online, I knew I had to dress around it, adding silky white stockings that were held up by garters. Silk white blouse to match, tied up to expose my bra and chest, my fake breasts hidden by the edge of my shirt and choker. Black lace with a simple pattern, feeling the tightness around my throat added to the sensation of being Rory. Open toe black heels adorned my feet, I had smiled the entire walk to the bar to meet Claire, so happy with the final outcome.

My blush continued as she playfully felt the hem of my skirt, moving her hands down to feel the silky stockings. Claire had always enjoyed it when I shared Rory with her, remembering her excitement the first time I had shown her this other side of me. Giggling and squealing, she had supported my desires to be feminine over the last few years being friends, helping me shop, doing our nails together, even inviting me out to the odd girls nights like this one. Truly, I didn't deserve a friend as supportive as her.

One thing that Claire loved above all though, one thing she brought up every time we hung out, dressed together, had our giggly girly nights, was my clit. My caged clitty to be specific, the tiny metal device that helped me be Rory. Helped me feel more feminine, more connected to that other side of myself. Locked away for days or weeks, almost a physical representation of my girlish vacation, I knew that as long as I had my caged clit, I was Rory.

And Claire LOVED it. Adored it. She was fascinated by the idea of it, what it entailed, meant, felt like, looked like. Constantly asking questions, wide-eyed and giggling when she would see the bulge in my panties, or outlined in my tighter outfits. On one of our dressing nights, she had even been as bold as to ask to touch it, feel it. I still remember feeling her slightly cold, trembling hands, the excited noises that escaped her when she rubbed and explored it, feeling it twitch with frustration. As much as it made me blush, this incredibly personal part of myself exposed, I could never deny her curiosity, see that adorable smile spread across her face.

As it was just the two of us sitting at our booth, early before any of the other girls arrived, I stared into Claire's eyes as she smiled, asking if I was caged. Face burning, I could only nod, telling her it had been a week since I locked it, watching that excited look grow on her face. Giggling, her hand never leaving my thigh, she leaned in close to whisper into my ear. Good girl. I whimpered slightly, cursing past me for ever telling her how much I enjoyed being called that. But it was impossible not to tell Claire everything. She was too accepting, too wonderful of a friend.

The rest of the night went normally once her friends arrived, talking and laughing as we drank and ate. I had come to love nights like this, when I just got to be one of the girls, be Rory. I could wear what I wanted, knowing I'd be accepted and welcomed. Even when they teased me for dressing like a whore, it brought a blushing smile to my face, a warmth that I got to embrace and express this side of myself.

Knowing that I would be in girl mode for a little while longer, Claire messaged me the next day that she wanted to have a nail painting party, saying she found a new colour that she wanted to see on me. I happily agreed, planning to meet at her place that coming weekend. It would be two weeks being in the cage come the Saturday night, but I knew I could manage to hold out that long, despite the protests coming from my poor little clitty. Safely locked away, it would just have to be satisfied with the vibrators and dildo's I had grown fond of. Every night leading up to our little party I wore my new outfit, bouncing and cumming away as I stared at my reflection.

Saturday came, and I found myself walking over to Claire's, wearing my tight pleather black shorts over dark nylons. Tight black and white shirt, tiny sleeves and a hint of a collar to hide the top connection of my breasts, with a pair of much lower black heels than the night before. I smiled at the sound of my heels clicking off the pavement, happy in one of my favourite outfit styles, excited for Claire to see me in it.

See me she did, gushing over how great my ass and legs looked. As we hugged she snuck one hand to my little shorts, cupping and feeling my clit that was outlined quite well. Giggling, hearing the surprised moan escape my lips, Claire took my hand and led me to the table. We sat, talked, drank, and ate, all the while doing each others nails. Claire had me strip to my panties to do my toes, having a foot in each others laps while we gently applied our final coats.

We moved to the couch as we waited for our nails to dry, sitting close while we continued to chat over the tv in the background. It certainly didn't escape me the constant glances Claire snuck to my clit, comfortably wrapped in panties, feeling very exposed in the open. Our nails finally dry, I giggled seeing the bold red matching on our hands, a hint of sparkle in the light. I put on my tights, leaving my shorts and heels off for now, crossing my legs while we drank. After the night of fun and being temporarily on display, my poor clit was aching harder than I ever remembered. Two weeks was a long time for me!

Seeing that familiar need on my face, Claire changed the subject, asking how it felt to be denied this long. Smiling, I arched my back as I told her how much it was driving me wild, how I found myself staring at cute outfits on the women passing me every day, imagining and wishing I was in them. The nights of playing, of teasing, and how despite giving myself orgasms like a girl, there was still that ache. That need. She listened through it all, intently hanging on to every word.

Both of us a bit inebriated, I felt myself getting excited over the topic of conversation. Claire, sensing my mood shift, that personal restraint finally breaking, she moved beside me. Her leg swung over mine, gently placing herself down in my lap, rubbing against my nylon covered thighs. Staring intensely into my eyes, Claire gently asked if she could play with it, just a little. Whimpering, I simply nodded, watching that wide-eyed excitement as her hands explored me. Running up and down my legs, feeling the nylons encasing me, she gently cupped my clit with one hand, smiling at the warmth and eagerness she felt.

Claire rubbed my stretched, filled, and aching balls through my panties and hose, while I moaned loudly, no longer able to hide my desire. My need. Taking my clit out, exposing it to the air, I heard her gasp with glee as she saw it, my poor clit filling every crevice of my cage. Sitting in her hand, feeling her gently squeeze and rub, I blushed deeply seeing my clit beginning to leak, evidence of my denial and arousal starting to show. But this only made her smile, giggling as she took a tissue to wipe it down.

Our eyes locked, Claire drank in my expressions as she played. Rubbing, squeezing, teasing, tugging, she explored my clit to her liking, taking breaks to clean up the desperate leaking I could not stop. Without relenting, she told me how excited my locked clit made her. How she thought about it every time I was locked up, cumming herself silly knowing I was safely locked away. How it made her pussy quiver while she was being fucked, a big hard cock being thrusted in and out of her a complete opposite to my little caged clitty. How she often wished I could be there while she got on her knees, taking a cock in her mouth, wanting to see my face, knowing my own clit would not be receiving such treatment.

I sensed Claire's hesitation, nervous about what she wanted to say next, but the exciting mood, the arousal between us both, pushed her past it. Staring down at my clit, hands never stopping the constant exploration of my denial, she said softly that she wanted me to stay this way, to stay locked. She wanted me to ache, to throb, to leak. She wanted to make sure that I didn't have a cock, but a clit. A tiny caged little clitty, one that was constantly desperate for release. Suddenly staring into my eyes, seeing my submissiveness nature taking over, my own excitement from the effects of her words, she added her final wish. Her final want.

I want to be your keyholder

A little whimper escaped me, my mouth opening in shock, nearly cumming from hearing those words. Claire's dominating presence grew, sensing the idea she had cornered into my mind was taking root, she pressed on. She told me how she had been reading about it ever since the first time I showed her my clit. Chastity, keyholding, Mistresses, cuckolding, sissies; listing off these hidden fantasies of mine I had never shared with anyone. My clit was endlessly leaking now, unable to handle this situation, making a mess of both of us. Yet Claire didn't relent, telling me how exciting she found the whole idea, how much she desperately wanted to keep me caged.

I listened as she didn't care if I was Rory the whole time or not, nor did she care if I came. Claire kept my gaze as she talked about the many thing she wanted to try with me, do to me. Things she wanted to make me do, make me wear, make me experience, all the while wearing a cage for her. I moaned as she said she already had a cage in mind for me, something new, something smaller, that would be easier to wear full-time. I could back out at any time, but she wanted control over me, wanted my submission.

And, of course, I would call her Goddess.

Taken aback by it all, still under the effect of her spell, I couldn't speak as I stared into her big, beautiful eyes. My mind raced, questions bouncing back and forth off each other. Could I do this? Even consider this? How long would she keep me caged? What are these things she was going to make me do? How could I stay locked up even longer? What would this mean for our friendship? But each one slowly fell away as I saw her, saw the excitement, the genuine joy, and the caring expression behind that dominating look. This was Claire, someone I trusted completely, who I shared so much of this part of my life with, and who I knew would take care of me. With a defeated inner sigh, I knew there was just no way I could deny her this wish, knowing full well it was mine as well.

Yes...

Oh, it was the quietest yes in the world. As if I wished she wouldn't hear it, prayed that it would go unnoticed and my clit would still be in my own control. But hear it she did, seeing the recognition in her eyes as they widened with excitement. Taking her hands off my clit, wiping the excited precum I had leaked all over her with a tissue, Claire leaned in closely as she ran one hand through my hair, gripping and holding me in place. The other, wrapped around my throat, a gentle firmness in her grip, ensuring she had my full attention. Seemingly millimeters from my face, feeling her hot breath on mine, needing to know I understood her intentions. Her demands.

I would never be hard outside of the cage. She would clean and shave when it was required, always icing down my cock before, during, and after. I would never try to tamper or remove her cage, accepting her ownership of me. I would always have a say in what she had planned for me, if something was too much or I wasn't ready, but the one thing that would never change was my clit. It would belong to her. Be controlled by her. Claire, staring intently into my eyes, said she was taking my cock away from me, replacing it with my clit. Her clit. Leaning into me, she sealed her pitch with a final promise. A promise of what I would do, would be, when I relented to her control.

You are going to thank me

Letting silence fill the room, her words sinking deeply into me, Claire told me the phrase I was to repeat if I agreed. If I understood what this meant. Mouth dry, my heart pounding in my chest, clit practically screaming at me to deny her, I knew this was something I wanted. I heard the words coming out of my mouth, almost as if someone else was speaking them, but I heard them clearly.

Please be my keyholder, Goddess

Tears welling in her eyes, Claire's expression softened into one of gratuitous excitement. Squealing, she hugged me so tightly, happily embracing her as well, holding tightly to my now Goddess, my keyholder, my friend. Smiling, she thanked me, telling me it was going to be so much fun, kissing my forehead so tenderly, calling me her good girl. Still in a haze of aching frustration and need, I could only blush, those words taking on a whole new meaning now coming from her.

That night Claire made sure to come back home with me, claiming the keys rightfully promised to her. Left caged for the first time not of my own volition, I tossed and turned all night, feeling as if I would break through the metal on my clit. Yet each night and morning was the same, left with aching, frustrated need, the many messages and pictures I sent to my keyholder being met with utter delight.

Two weeks after I pledged myself to her, a full month of being in my cage, Claire surprised me with my new "clit". Bright pink, made of a material she went into much detail over, my mind blanking it all out seeing the size. It was impossibly small, smaller than I could even fathom, feeling there was no way I could fit in such a tiny thing. Yet, after being iced down and carefully shaved by my eager Goddess, I stared down at my new, smooth, tiny clit.

Claire squealed as she locked it in place, so happy with the fit and look. Speechless, I could only gasp as I glimpsed at my new fate. She smiled, hands teasing as they loved to do, teaching me that this cage would force my erections inside of me, my clit staying nice and small for her. I whimpered in fear as I felt my excitement, my full and stretched balls dwarfing my tiny little clit, the straining I was used to suddenly different, new. Seeing the excitement on my Goddesses face, I knew it was a feeling I would become used to.

Over the next few weeks I did indeed become accustomed to my new clit. The feeling at first being confusing and worrisome, now a welcomed part of my life. Still a leaking, aching, needy thing between my legs, yet as I admired myself in one of the many panties Goddess made me wear, the little bump barely noticeable now, I could only smile into the mirror. I could barely feel her cage going about my day, the comfortability making it seem as if this was how I had lived my entire life.

Claire was overjoyed at the effects of her new cage, my new clit. Our nights of dressing and girly fun continued, with the simple change of my Goddess ensuring I was a frustrated mess the entire time. Quickly my choice in outfits for Rory was taken from me, Goddess directing what I should wear for each occasion. She would never force me to be girly, or show that side of myself, simply waiting until I was in that mindset, pouncing on her good girl. Locked away in her cage full-time, I found those moments of Rory starting to become more and more frequent.

Over the course of six months Claire introduced me to so many new, wonderful experiences. Quickly I found myself at the mercy of my Goddesses fingers, milking her good girl as we both learned and perfected what that meant for me. Latex gloved fingers slowly massaging my g-spot, she smiled through each moan forced out of her good girl. I still remember the first time she saw my clit leaking uncontrollably from her efforts, excitedly cheering while I moaned and whimpered on my hand and knees. I am embarrassed to say how quickly she mastered it, even more so how easily I became addicted to our little sessions.

She would have nights of dressing me like her own personal doll, so many different outfits and looks, turning me into a beautiful blushing girl for her. I was even brought to one of her work parties, Goddess showing off her "friend" in a tight black dress and opaque white tights. Simple black shoes, matching white ruffles down the front and sleeves, as well as nylon patterned elbow gloves, the ensemble had made me feel like a Victorian young woman, put on display for potential suitors. I still don't remember blushing as hard or for as long as that night, gripped tightly by my Goddess, giving me courage through the evening. My panties were soaked by the time she took me home...

Each weekend Goddess quickly decided, with a rather evil look in her eyes, that I would clean her apartment as her maid. A ridiculous pink dress was purchased, white ruffles, petticoats, heels, stockings, and of course hair piece. Claire laughed for a solid five minutes when everything came together, unable to contain herself as she playfully fluffed the dress in her hands, thoroughly enjoying the burning humiliation on my face. It didn't take long for the pictures to reach her friends, who suspiciously all now decide to have get togethers at Claire's place on the weekend, suggesting that their own apartments could use a good maid.

Yet, even having a little fun at my expense, Claire always made sure I was happy. We shared these experiences together, knowing it was something we both wanted. As she had stated that first fateful night, I would thank her for taking my keys. And I did, many times, usually followed by a tender kiss on my forehead, calling me her good girl. She had changed my life for the better becoming my Goddess, and for that I was truly thankful.

Three months into being caged for my Goddess, happily falling further under her control, I found myself in a school girl outfit, "requested" by a friend of hers. My wig in pig-tails and little bows, white stockings, pleated skirt, and a crop top with SISSY embroidered in glittery font stretched across my breasts. Nervous, excited, terrified, and enslaved to the need in my clit, I wrapped my lips around a cock for the first time. On my knees, moaning like the good little whore I was, I made sure to put on a display, knowing he was filming it for Goddess. As he used my mouth, switching between fucking my face and letting me pleasure him, I knew this was something I hoped Goddess made me do more often. Claire moaned later while she watched the video, her legs clamped down on my head as I licked her pussy, cumming hard watching me being used like a slut. Lying in her arms afterwards, I blushed when she affectionately called me her good little cocksucker.

The outfits, cage, control, collars, and humiliation grew and adapted. Claire got more confident, more sure in what she wanted, for both herself and her little slut. After my night on my knees, it wasn't long before I found myself collared and gagged, tied to her headboard. Whimpering, her hands cupping my clit, she moaned back at me, her face contorted in pleasure, watching as my Goddess was fucked from behind. His hands exploring her body, rubbing her clit, I watched her quiver with excitement as she came on his big cock, hands never leaving my pink cage. Content, almost glowing with satisfaction, Goddess gently stroked my hair later after he left, my tongue cleaning and licking her used pussy. Claire smiled as she stared down at me between her legs, my bright pink lingerie a mirror to hers, adding yet another experience we would be going through together. Frequently.

In seemingly no time at all, we reached a year of Claire being my Goddess. A year of being caged for her. A year of losing my cock. She had spoken true of her intentions that night so long ago, denying me any form of erection the entire time, my clit safely locked away. As she sat in my lap, mimicking that fateful first night, Claire asked if I still wished to be her good girl. To be owned. There was no hesitation in my agreement, my eagerness to proceed. I knew this was what I wanted in my life. What I needed. Her cage, her control, her admiration, her humiliating tasks, her warm affection, her tender touch. She was my Goddess, and I was her good girl.