Dressed Slutty and Cuffed Tight

Story Info
A day in the life of Janelle, Max's slave. She is punished.
1.9k words
4
33.4k
7
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Janelle read her instruction booklet as best she could on her knees. It was hard because the wind fluttered the pages, so she propped her knee on top of it to keep the book open to today's page.

October 3, 2016

1) Laundry
2) Groceries—see list in your purse

She stopped there. Groceries? How was she supposed to get groceries like this? She couldn't even use her hands with the cuffs on tight behind her back. Up until then, all of her tasks had always been within the confines of his third-floor New York apartment.

Max gave her lists of instructions to do while he was at work each day.

Janelle enjoyed being Max's slave. She really did. He cared for her, he provided for her. In exchange she essentially transferred all of her rights, decisions, and person over to him on her own free accord. She still had parents in Tokyo who she loved and friends that she hanged out with at boutiques and at coffee houses. She really was a normal person just like everyone else. Except for one small detail.

Janelle did not own herself.

Max owned her.

She had a collar that she wore 24/7. They had a ceremony and everything. That had been nearly a year ago.

But no one on the outside really knew. If she searched the eyes that met hers when she greeted a "vanilla" person, she had always detected a flint of acknowledgement. Somehow, they sensed it. That she was in a typical one-sided relationship.

That's the way she liked it. She liked being dominated. It made her feel... if she had to put her finger on it, it just made her feel right. Like she was relieved of some great burden. She no longer had any care in the world—except of course pleasing her Master.

Janelle came to the conclusion that there'd be no way she could make it to the store, much less down the elevator, without someone noticing that her arms were handcuffed behind her back.

Then there was the matter of the dress. It was a skintight black garment the size of a dishrag, and she had no panties on underneath (Max insisted on this set-up so that she could still pee on her own). How would she be able to explain any of it? What would be people say to her? Would they yell obscene catcalls? Would she get slanted eyes and disapproving glares from passersby?

She shuddered at the thought.

Could she be arrested if a policeman saw her?No, of course not, Janelle, it's not against the law to walk around the city in handcuffs.Then again, it's not the kind of thing you typically see on a bright autumn morning. Since she had her own cuffs, at least she'd be saving the cops the trouble.

Then the idea came to her. One of Max's winter coats. Yes, yes. It'd be big enough for her to drape over her shoulders. That would hide both a) her cuffed hands, and b) her skimpy slut attire.

She got up, walked to the closet, and opened it awkwardly. Then, she stopped herself before proceeding inside. Could she wear one of his coats? The contract was silent on the matter. It stipulated that she had to wear whatever Max told her to wear. He never said anything about the coat, though.

Max liked puzzles.

Maybe it's a game,she thought.Yes, yes, a game. I have to solve this conundrum with the clues that he has given me. The answer is the coat.

Facing backwards, she pulled the coat from its hanger, walked into the bedroom, and laid it on the bed in front of her. Her initial thought was that she would be able to flop herself down onto the bed, and that somehow the coat would cling to her shoulders. When this didn't work, she flung it up and tried to shimmy herself so that it would land on her in mid-air. After two attempts, she got it to drape around her neck like a workout towel, and she gave up. She put the coat back onto the hanger in defeat.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself. "Think, Janelle... Think... It's too hard. I can't do it. He'll understand. I'll make it up to him."

I'm going to suck him off as soon as he comes through the door,she thought.

I hope he doesn't punish me for this.

The door exploded open. Max stood, rigid and warrior-like, waiting. Immediately, Janelle came to him, got onto her knees, and bowed her head.

"Evening," he grumbled, and walked past her, setting his leather bag down onto the couch. "Come sit here with me, slave."

She gulped. "Yes, Master."

He kicked off his shoes, crossed his feet onto the coffee table, and flicked the TV on. "If the Jets win, I'll let you come tonight."

She couldn't contain herself. She blurted it out. "I didn't get the groceries."

"What?" His eyes came off the TV and were stuck onto her like glue mixed with honey.

Oh no.

"Why didn't you just call it in?"

"Call it in..." she trailed off. She bit her lip. "You mean Jeff?"

Jeff was a high school dropout. He was like a butler, only he ran errands for Max for money. Max didn't have time for things like laundry and changing his oil, so he had hired an assistant on an on-call basis.

"I thought I was supposed to go to the store and get the groceries myself," she said, a tear welling up in one eye.

"Are you crazy? In handcuffs? And dressed like that? You'd be kidnapped!"

"I'm sorry, I thought, I thought..."

"Jesus, Janelle, you are just like... the dumbest girl ever sometimes, you know that?" he half-yelled it in an agitated tone.

Then the tears came. Janelle began to cry.

"Baby, I'm sorry, don't do that. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry!" she repeated. The question of punishment was lingering in her mind. She hoped the tears would make Max forget about Rule 27 in the contract. That rule was clearly broken. That much she knew.

He let his fingers feather through her hair. Then he stroked her with the absolute tip of his pointer finger, soaking up a portion of the wetness.

He looked at her sternly.

"You have to be punished, my love."

"I love you!" she shouted frantically.

"I know you do. And I love you too, Janelle." He held her snug in his arms and kissed her forehead. Then, he whispered in her ear:

"Get on your knees."

She complied immediately.

He unzipped his pants.

She trembled.

He was half-erect.

Her lips quivered.

He laid a hand on the top of her head.

Her heart fluttered.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

She gave him the sluttiest eyes she could.

"Do you want to lick it?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

Football playing softly in the background.

A thirty-six yard gain on that last play, and, what's this? We have a fumble!

He tongue wetted the tip of his penis. It tasted like a sweet, hypnotic opiate.

"You're a slut," he said softly.

"Yes," she agreed.

"A dirty slut, aren't you, Janelle?"

"Yes, I am."

She felt vibrations in her inner core. That addictive sensual tightness in her diaphragm.

She loved everything about his penis. It had a nice, fortified beam-like structure to it like an Olympic diving board. It had a mass, like some great big animal at a zoo. She worshipped that penis and everything it represented.

"Now suck it, slave."

He tugged her hair. Her mouth opened.

Before she could begin, he pulled away. "Wait!" he said. And he traipsed off out of the room.

She was confused.Did I do something wrong? Was I too sudden? Too gentle?

She went through a play-by-play in her head of how she could have been sexier.More lips, a tighter seal, Janelle,she scolded herself.

Then he returned a few moments later with a chain in one hand and a camera on a tripod in the other. "You need your leash," he said. Then, motioning with the camera hand: "I want to record it."

He attached the leash to her collar and locked it in place. Then he set the camera up to face her and plugged it into the TV. A moment later her collared head appeared on the screen.

Now with a fistful of hair in one hand and the leash in the other, he waved his throbbing penis in her face. He poked her with it on the nose and she devoured it like a crocodile in response. Once it was inside her mouth, she could feel the subtle complexities of its vein-structure.

Janelle had had extensive training in blow jobs. She had read entire books on the subject and frequented sex seminars. She tried to imagine what it felt like for him. Her best gauge was the escalation of his heavy, dark breathing. It sounded aromatic to her.

He pulled the chain. It made her feel powerless.

She liked feeling that way.

She opened her eyes. The sight of her helpless face was plastered across the 70 inch TV screen as she twisted her neck. In the corner of the screen the football game played in a small box, the volume low.

He yanked on the chain. "Suck me, slave."

The gentle clinking of the metal reminded her of his ownership.

The sight of her face on the screen had excited her. It was the expression she had (if one could really make an "expression" with a penis in their mouth). It was a look of absolute surrender.

The sound of the football game continued softly in the background:

In that angle, he clearly had possession, now they're just trying to determine, did the knee come down...

Then Max reached the point of imminence, she could tell. It was that shift in pitch that was the dead giveaway. She upped the tempo accordingly.

Suddenly, her throat was bombarded with a flood of hot, dripping semen. It came in globules, relentless, and filled her to the brink.

When he was done, he ordered her to swallow.

She gulped it down.

"That's your dinner for the evening," he said, flopping down onto the couch and reaching for the remote.

"Did I please you, Master?" she asked.

Instead of answering her question, Max turned the volume of the game back up.

And they are going to review this play. From this angle, it looks like he has control of the ball...

"Let's go over your punishment," he began.

She waited on her knees silently.

"You're sleeping on the floor tonight."

She was relieved.That's not so bad! I thought it'd be worse than that!

"While hogtied. And gagged."

The relief dissipated.Could a person really be tied up that long? A full eight hours?She thought of her poor knee joints.

"And gagged?" she asked.

He looked at her angrily. "Is that a problem?"

"No," she whispered. Her jaw... Would she even be able to chew meals properly the next day? The soreness...

"I accept my punishment," she said, eyes down. "Thank you."

"That's not even the punishment," he said.

"Oh."

He pressed the mute button. Scooted closer to her. Then he grabbed her leash and yanked her to him. She landed face-first in his crotch.

"Tomorrow," he explained, "I'm tying you up to one of the poles on the balcony for everyone to see. Naked."

She cringed.

"You will be gagged."

She grimaced.

"I'm writing in big red letters 'slut' across your tits."

She gasped.

"And eat a big breakfast. Because you're going to stay there all day."

Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
This is not good porn.

This doesn't even rise to the level of porn, let alone be erotic.

This is violence against a person with psychological issues by a moronic bully.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 8 years ago
Not even porn

This doesn't even rise to the level of porn, let alone be erotic.

This is violence against a person with psychological issues by a moronic bully.

On a technical level, this is juvenile and terrible.

Share this Story

Similar Stories

Funeral of a Good Girl Megan is hypnotized by Tyrone's cock.in Mind Control
Slaves Next Door Heather is kidnapped and brainwashed to be a loving slave.in Mind Control
The Diary of a Personal Assistant She has a rough encounter with her new boss.in NonConsent/Reluctance
The Taking of Lena Ch. 01 An innocent chambermaid is taken by a wealthy lord.in NonConsent/Reluctance
Housebound Ch. 01 Katie wakes up bound, gagged, taken, teased--and not alone.in NonConsent/Reluctance
More Stories