Note: this 4th chapter of The Conversion continues the depraved story of a man trapped in his own lust and how that addiction continues to be nourished and used by unscrupulous women. Thank god.
Karla dropped by one afternoon while I was on my hands and knees washing the tile floor around the pool. Erin supervised from a lounge chair where she could both watch me work and ignore me at the same time. She shot Karla a quick smile before resuming her book. It pleased her that her friends and niece had such casual access to me. The fact that I was passed around and had no choice in who used me, only made me more of a whore.
When I wasn't fulfilling my primary purpose as a sex tool, I was tasked with light domestic responsibilities around the house, such as cleaning or preparing dinner. I was no longer allowed to wear clothing because Erin liked watching me work naked, or almost naked.
A black leather cock ring with chrome snaps encircled my genitals. Attached to that was a two-inch wide piece of leather that stretched my testicles away from my cock. Another half-inch strap of leather separated my balls and held them immobile for her inspection and convenience. There was a small ring on that strap where a leash could be attached. The cock harness/ball stretcher was all I was permitted to wear, even when others were present. I was allowed to be embarrassed, even ashamed, but I was not allowed to disobey.
Karla was one of three women besides my wife Erin who shared ownership of me. She had guided my training, so she understood my inhibitions and how to move me past them better than anyone else. I heard her heels on the tiles behind me before she spoke. I recognized the light steps, close together, confident, announcing her arrival. The sound of her approach excited me. I could feel my cock begin to thicken.
"So, this is how you keep the place so clean," Karla commented. The sharp clack of heels striking tiles stopped abruptly. I felt her hand on my back, acknowledging my presence while confirming my status, on my hands and knees in front of her.
To emphasize her authority she clapped her hands once, sharply. I stopped cleaning immediately and adopted the submissive pose that she had taught me; face on the floor, arms stretched out in front, knees spread wide, back arched offering maximum access, ass and genitals on display for inspection.
Karla murmured her approval. She rewarded me with a few strokes, then spoke to my wife in that low, throaty tone of voice that she knew made me hard and compliant.
"Hey, can I borrow David this weekend? Both of my usual subs are unavailable and showing up at the gathering Saturday without a boy is like going solo to a couples party," Karla grinned.
"Well, you understand that he may not perform as well as he did at his graduation, right? That was exceptional circumstances and I don't think I've seen him so excited since. You know how he can be about feeling inadequate," Erin said.
"Oh don't worry, I know he is somewhat anxious about not being able to perform so I'll keep him caged, ok? He won't need to be worried about not getting a hard-on in front of the others." Karla paused while she studied the naked sub prostrated at her feet.
"Actually," Karla said thoughtfully, "you'd be surprised how many subs like being caged in public."
A few light taps with the toe of her shoe between my legs stiffened my cock and the sack around my balls tightened as she watched.
"So responsive," she observed lewdly, admiringly. "A testimony to your training my dear. He's obedient but not cowed or jaded." I felt her tapered brown fingers wrap themselves around my rigid boner.
Karla had that secretive, conspiratorial tone to her voice that usually meant something strange was about to happen to me. I should have shared my apprehension with Erin that I was about to be taken advantage of again.
But Karla was stroking my cock. I was an addict getting his fix, unable to think about anything but the rush. When she first walked in I felt the familiar tingling in my groin that was always there when Karla was around. Her easy assumption that I belonged to her challenged me to go deeper into the sub experience.
For her amusement, Karla was training me to respond to hand signals. One snap of her fingers meant sit, two meant follow. One clap of her hands initiated the face down, ass up response I had just demonstrated. She told me she would add to my repertoire as the occasions arose.
Her continued stroking made me feel rewarded for displaying my mastery of the most recent trick she had taught me.
Whatever she had in store for me this evening, I knew it would be degrading and it would be public. She enjoyed it. Karla assumed my compliance and she was right. Erin would lend me to her, as she always did, and Karla would use me like she owned me, like she partly did.
Karla picked me up Friday night. She was dressed to kill in a low neckline silk Tee cut-off that left no doubt that she was braless and accentuated her erect nipples. The form-fitting knee-length knitted skirt hugged her ass and announced how naked she was underneath. Three-inch black spike heels restored authority to her diminutive, compact, curvy black body. She was delicious.
Erin made sure my cock cage was secure but comfortable. She stretched a red silk thong over the chastity device and secured my wrists behind my back in a pair of black leather restraints with steel rings embedded in them. Karla buckled a matching black collar around my neck, threw a long raincoat over me and off we went to the party. On the way to her car she peeled back the coat and cut the thong off with a small pen knife.
"I like you better with the equipment on display, even if it's locked up," Karla informed me. "Don't tell Erin," she winked.
The party apartment was a roomy three bedroom complex on the sixth floor of a downtown building near the edgy part of the city. Once inside the condo Karla gave my raincoat to the valet, a young man with bleached blonde hair, an overall tan and a solid metal ring around the base of his genitals. We strolled into the living room. There were few single people present. Most of the women had naked men on leashes with them.
Karla pulled on my leash. I followed her through the gauntlet of Dommes. As we made our way to a small raised stage in the middle of the room I was stroked, slapped and fondled until my initial terror gave way to a strange kind of blissful numbness, a surrender of sorts.
This was my life now. Lured into sexual slavery through my own depravity, exploited by a wife who shared me with friends and family, I had no responsibilities, no decisions to make and only one task: my cock needed to remain erect for as long as they wanted it.
"Step up David. It's your first time out with the girls so we're going to put on a little demo. What's the point of having a sub if you can't show him off to friends huh?"
I stepped tentatively onto the low platform, embarrassed to be on display and unsure of what was expected of me. With slight downward motion of her hand Karla indicated that I should kneel. So feeling like the sacrificial virgin at a pagan ritual, but happy to be directed, I lowered myself awkwardly to my knees in front of her.
