One Friday evening in summer, the lodger and I knelt naked and silent on the living room floor, while my wife and her girlfriend kissed and cuddled on the sofa. My smooth cock twitched in its cage, and I saw a grimace on the lodger's face as his did the same. Strictly speaking, I should call him Toy, which is the name my wife decided he would bear when she enslaved him. His collar bore that word in gold letters, while mine read 'Pet'.
So there we were together, the four of us in that little suburban sitting room. My wife Sara was a curvy woman of thirty-nine, with a kind, radiant face, dark eyes and long dark hair that fell straight down her back. She wore a navy blue dress, and beneath that she wore black lace knickers and a matching bra.
Her lover was a few years younger, a slim woman with light brown hair and green eyes; her name was Catherine. At that moment, Catherine wore a tight white dress with black dots in a pattern, and she had her hair up in a bun that made her look more severe than she really was. She had small but perfect breasts and smooth, slim legs, all of which the dress showed off superbly.
Toy was twenty-two, and a graduate trainee at some kind of accounting firm. He had long blonde hair, much longer than my short grey cut, that he wore in a ponytail. He had a light build, just like I did, and we both had bright blue eyes. He was just a little shorter than me at six foot, and he had beautiful young skin that bore no imperfections I'd ever been able to find.
Me? I was in my late thirties, in good shape but with a slight paunch building up. My Mistress Sara occasionally put me on a diet to get it back down, but we liked the sweet things in life too much and so it always came back. Toy and I were both clean-shaven, both in our faces and everywhere else, and we checked each other in the shower most days for stray stubble.
I had consented to become my wife's slave a few years back, after our dalliances in 24/7 living had grown longer and longer. One day she had finally broached the subject, and we had negotiated and then worked out a trial period. I wore a tattoo that said 'Property of Mistress Sara', and had signed away most of my life and assets to her care.
She had found in herself the need for more lovers, and we had negotiated this too. First she took the occasional girlfriend, always carefully vetted for discretion, then she had found a way to take more slaves into her life, first at parties and then by very carefully finding someone in the scene who needed a place to live, and offering them the trade of a lifetime: slavery for rent.
The end result was taking Toy - his real name was Tim - into the house and having Catherine come into our lives as a long-term lover for my wife. Catherine was not my owner, but I had been ordered to obey her in the same way and show her the same respect. Toy, similarly, had to serve both women.
That Friday night, we all played our roles.
"Sara, oh, your boys look so desperate for attention," said Catherine in between kisses.
"Toy and Pet can wait, honey, now is our time."
"I just can't bear those longing looks, but I don't want them to go either."
"Well, that's easy, they are slaves. Boys, cornertime."
We crawled away into different corners of the room, turning our backs on our superiors. When I got to my corner, I knelt up and put my hands behind my back, then I leaned forward and touched my nose to the wall. My legs were spread so that my cock and balls would hang down and be visible to anyone behind me, not that I expected Sara and Catherine to look.
I listened to them kiss and heard the sounds of fabric hitting the floor. In theory I was stronger than either of them and could stop this anytime, but in reality I needed their control and everything that came with it. My wife took her pleasure wherever she wanted and that made me happy; she knew too when I needed to receive and when I needed to give, and that made me even happier.
Time passed differently when I was facing the wall, waiting for orders. If I had just been on my own, I could've zoned out and let the minutes fly by, but when I was listening to my wife and her girlfriend as they teased and kissed one another, time seemed to expand. Every seductive sound took an age to pass, as I knelt aching with desire for them.
Cornertime wasn't really used for punishment. Cornertime was for power. My owner got off on having me kneel naked in a corner, on making me feel like a naughty boy whose bare bottom and dangling caged cock were to be on display. Holding the position, using my muscles to keep my balance, it was a physical expression of my submission and her ownership.
I heard enough clothing sounds that I was pretty sure they were both naked. Catherine had been reluctant to let me see her that way at first, but after a few months of her relationship with my wife, she was confident in the knowledge that I was just a slave, whose gaze did not count. The only reason I distracted her was because she was attracted to me too.
After a while I heard a wine bottle pop open and some glasses get poured. "Boys, turn around," ordered Catherine. "Pet, come to me and present. Toy, to Sara."
Toy crawled over to where my wife was sitting - on a separate armchair - and she handed him a glass of red wine. He drank it on the floor, alternating sips of the wine with kisses of my wife's open legs, and she bit her lip in the cute way I like. Catherine hadn't poured me any wine. She was going to make me work for it, and ordering me to present probably meant she wanted a bit of a performance.
I knelt in front of her as she sat on the sofa, and I spread my legs, then I looked up at her and lolled my tongue out of my mouth. I opened my eyes wide and panted, and I raised my hands up to my chest and held them just like a pet would. I was right: that was what she wanted. Catherine beamed and patted my head, then she stroked my face while she took sips of wine.
She was just as naked as me, but she held herself with power and poise, and sat with her legs crossed. I knew that she had a full, thick bush and I had a smooth, shaven cock. I was collared, she was not. Her eyes sparkled with lust and power and I instinctively pushed my hips forward and thrust my caged cock towards her. She just giggled, then reached down to the side of the sofa she sat on.
