I needed a domestic sub to come in and tidy my apartment once a week in exchange for being ordered around naked.
One night at a play party I found an older man. He later confided he was nervous about attending the party without a Domme, but he was driven by his craving to seek direction from a dominant female. The play party was a chance to make his availability known.
It was one of those nine to whenever affairs that featured an open bar and recreational horderves that gastronomically speaking, led nowhere. But I liked the ambiance and appreciated the opportunity to network with like-minded individuals. Plus the party was a perfect venue to acquire a stray sub.
I watched him from the other side of the room, standing by himself looking forlorn. He was fiddling with his loin cloth and nursing a bottle of water. Yes, all the subs were uniformly dressed in nothing but loin cloths to illustrate the party's tongue-in-cheek theme of "predator and prey."
The Dommes were, of course, arrayed in a variety of costumes ranging from huntress to dungeon mistress. Some brought their own prey, others were there to hunt.
I was attracted to his demeanour and sensed his vulnerability almost immediately, like a lioness spots a wounded gazelle separated from the herd. He appeared unchaperoned, so I stalked him.
Just for fun I crept closer, playing the predator/prey game. Unobtrusively I closed the gap between my prey and his opportunity to flee. When I was maybe 5 meters away he became aware of my presence. We made eye contact across the room and he lost his ability to choose, lol. Like a Mircat fascinated by a cobra, he froze and waited for the inevitable.
That's the way of the world. Some of them are just born to serve. Those men will never really be content until they are either a committed part of a FLR or a toilet slave. This one had all the earmarks of a good domestic sub.
As I breached the perimeter of his personal space, he stopped fiddling and downed half the bottle of water. I noticed his loincloth had begun growing a little tent. By the time I got close enough to check out the circus between his legs, he was practically on his knees in grateful anticipation.
I stood close enough to make anyone who wasn't a sub feel extremely uncomfortable. Together we watched as the tent covering his loins grew into a 'big top'. Our eyes met again and I held his gaze as the tent pole reached its zenith.
"You look like you could use something useful to do. Go get me a lime and sofa from the bar." I smiled and saw the hope in his eyes. He was wondering if I would claim him; spoils of the hunt, so to speak. I decided to fan that flame, so I answered his unspoken question.
"The short answer is yes, but only if you do what you're told."
I watched him dart away, dodging obstacles between him and his Mistress's drink. I knew he would be back in record time, eager to demonstrate his obedience. His bare ass looked good in motion. It would look better quivering under my crop. I decided to keep him, for the evening at least. He looked like he needed protection.
I wore a leather corset with thigh-high leather boots and heels, along with a black leather thong. My hair was in long dreads held in place with two steel combs at the back of my head and I carried a riding crop looped over my wrist. Over the top? Nope. Not for this party.
My new sub came scampering back, careful not to spill his first assignment. The tent in his loincloth had not disappeared but it was less obvious. Instinctively I knew small talk would be pointless with this creature, so I decided that the direct approach would suit my needs best. But it's gotta be fun too.
So I whipped out a joint. "Gotta light?" I said in my best Jessica Rabbit voice. He was stuck for an answer. I lifted his loin cover with the tip of my crop just to check his response level and to confirm for anyone watching that I had bagged this prey.
"I don't see a spliff lighter, sub. Go get me one." I shifted closer, at once intimidating and intimate, and trailed a polished red fingernail along his left pec hard enough to leave a trail on his skin. "But I did see something under that scrap of cloth that might interest me later.
Hurry up sub, this joint's not going to light itself. Move that tight little ass."
A sharp crack across his butt with my crop launched my boy forward in his new quest.
I watched him canvass the immediate area, explaining that his Mistress needed a light. A woman dressed as Diana, the Greek goddess of the hunt, made him kneel and beg for it. He returned flushed with the pride of accomplishment. I had him hand it to me on his knees with both hands, then wait while I inhaled and blew a plume of smoke in his face. Second-hand smoke is a good way to get a sub stoned while still preserving his non-egalitarian status.
Maybe it was the weed or maybe I was just tired of hunting, but he was so sweet, so eager to please, just an obedient slut searching for an owner. So lost, so ... exposed. I decided to keep him, at least for a few days.
"Can you clean, sub? I am looking for a slave to pickup after me, a man-toy to wash, dry, fold and put away my laundry. A lackey to crawl on the floor naked and service my guests, including acting as a human ashtray and a footstool when required. Is that you sub, or should I keep hunting?"
The poor thing laid his forehead on my feet with his ass in the air to demonstrate his gratitude for the opportunity to serve. By this time the theme party was in full swing. A man on his knees in front of a woman was common. Dommes had subs tethered to them on leashes. There were subs backed into corners begging and collared subs running errands for their Mistresses. I needed to collar my prey quickly to avoid poaching.
"Kneel." I unsnapped a flexible collar I kept fastened to my thigh just above my knee and tightened it around his neck. My Mistress name and cell number were etched into the metal tag on the collar ... in case he got lost.
"I'm through here now that I've got what I came for. You will come home with me. I will allow you to make arrangements for your absence at work or with whoever. Otherwise your focus will be on satisfying me until I release you. I assume you are not currently in service to anyone, correct?"
"Yes Mistress, I am free to serve."
He stared at the floor, fidgeting again, obviously waiting for permission to say more.
"Speak. You have something you want to tell me?"
He blurted out that his former Mistress had found a new sub she liked better, so after years of service she simply released him. He would be grateful to serve me if I allowed him. "Please Mistress," he pleaded.
His voice wavered and faltered telling me his story and the pathos of the situation broke my heart. This faithful older sub had been used and thrown away because his Domme fancied a younger fuck. Something inside me wanted to correct the injustice.
"Let's go. You belong to me now. Leave your clothes, you won't need them." I hooked a finger through the D-ring on his collar and pulled him after me. I still had a room full of prowling Dommes and excited subs to navigate through with my captured slut.
"Hands clasped behind you and stay close unless I say otherwise." I led him through the gauntlet of Dommes and subs acting out their fantasies. He yelped once or twice as Mistresses still hunting for stray subs swatted his backside on our way out the door.
Outside in the cool night air he kept close to me. I walked him the three blocks to my building and slipped him in, appropriately enough, through a service entrance. We rode the lift in silence until he violated it.
"I just want to express my gratitude for taking me in Mistress. I was lost without a Domme and you saved me. I am forever grateful."
"Your adoration is noted and appreciated, sub. But refrain from volunteering any other unnecessary comments. I will tell you when you may speak, understand?"
"Yes Mistress, sorry Mistress." He was so contrite I lifted his loin cloth and played with his cock until it hardened, just to reassure him.
"Don't worry sub, I won't abandon you. You may squat at my feet and stroke your hard-on till we reach my floor. I assume you are experienced enough to know that you are not permitted to cum or even touch yourself without my consent."
He grunted his assent, intent on bringing himself close to the edge without disobeying. From the sound of his grunting it must have been awhile since he had been given permission. The doors opened onto the foyer of my apartment and I tugged on his leash, forcing him to stop masturbating and scrabble after me on all fours.
In the apartment I had him stand while I reclined and briefed him on his duties. "You will wear a cage while you are servicing my needs. If I want your cock I will unlock it. Otherwise you will be naked unless I dress you. Wait here."
I had a brand new cock cage in my play room. Sort of a one-size-fits-all, as long as his one size could fit into a three and a half inch space.
"Come!" He actually stayed on his knees and crawled to me from the next room. I let him approach me like a pet craving his owner's touch. He stopped at my feet and put his face on the floor.
"Stand." I snatched away the loin cloth. Just exposing him forced his tool to thicken again. I had intended to stuff his deflated cock into its new home when I suddenly thought ... why not?
"Would you like to cum?" I watched his semi-erect cock stretch out to its full length in seconds. Impressive.
"Yes please Mistress! It's been so long."
"One time before I lock you. On your knees, face on the floor, ass in the air and spread. I assume you are familiar with the standard milking position?"
"Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress!"
"Remember this sub. Remember how good it feels when I hold your cock in my hand. Remember how hard it gets. Feel how horny you become when I squeeze your hard cock."
My other hand roamed over his body, petting, squeezing, gliding over skin and muscle that had not been touched in a long while. He shivered and whimpered while I primed him.
I used the precum oozing from his erection to lubricate him. Finally I held him firmly by the balls while I stroked him. He grunted and came for me in seconds.
"Clean up your mess. Use your tongue.
I have a colleague coming over for a chat later today. You'll look better in something besides just a cock cage."
I pulled a maid uniform from a closet of costumes I kept for play parties and had him try it on for size. It was one of my better garments. A classic black uniform, backless with white frills on the front and the hem of the micro-short skirt that displayed his bare ass when he bent over or curtsied. The ensemble came with mid-thigh nylons held up with garters. The whole outfit was set off with a pair of two-inch black heels.
