Chore Bitch Pt 02

Quick note: This story includes CMNM, humiliation, domination, submission, and objectification. But it doesn't have any oral or anal sex - - - If you're looking for oral/anal, then this may not be the story for you.

Late in the afternoon, I got dressed as instructed -- in a jock strap, tight jeans, plain white t-shirt and boots. The jeans were super tight and accentuated my ass, crotch and thighs. And the white t-shirt was a size too small, which really showed off my pecs, biceps and trim waist. While I'm 5'3" tall and about 125 pounds, I have the build of a gymnast or wrestler. So tight clothes make my chest, arms, ass and legs look even bigger.

I also packed my backpack with the items Sir had commanded: a small bottle of Jack Daniels, some twine, icy hot and a snickers bar. Even though he hadn't demanded it, I threw my favorite cloth blindfold and a ball gag in my bag, too.

I looked at myself in the mirror just before leaving my apartment and realized that I looked like a fuck slut on his way to a hook up. It was that obvious to me -- and to anyone else who might be paying attention. But thankfully I was riding the NYC subway to get to Sir's house - - - and no outlandish or slutty outfit stands out on the subway.

It was about an hour-long subway ride from Brooklyn, which gave me plenty of time to wonder what was about to happen to me. As I thought about what lay in store for me, I felt the usual trepidation but also excitement in my throat and my dick I was hoping for some hot hazing with the icy hot and Jack Daniels but also wondered how Sir would be using the Snickers bar. Would he dangle it on the twine and make me chase after it like a pet? Would it get pushed up my ass? I also quizzed myself on each of the numbered positions they expected I would know.

The train arrived at Sir's stop in Harlem ahead of schedule. So I leisurely walked to his block and sat on the curb like an obedient chore bitch until 6:29 PM when I could ring the bell to his apartment.

He buzzed me into the building without a word, and I walked to his apartment door - - - which he had left ajar. I knocked and quietly stepped inside with my backpack in my left hand as instructed. I immediately placed the bag in the corner and dropped to my knees, head down. I felt pretty good about following Sir's directions.

I stayed kneeling with my head down for a few minutes, and eventually heard and saw Sir's feet walk toward me.

"You put your bag in the wrong corner, boy. You're not off to a good start."

I apologized profusely and kissed his feet. At this point my goal was to not get sent home horny, but he chuckled and told me to follow him. I stood up and respectfully followed him into the living room, where he joined his husband who was already seated on the couch.

"Kneel"

I dropped to my knees in front of the couch, head bent down and hands behind my back. After a brief discussion about boundaries and an admonition that they were willing to send me home early if I wasn't an obedient bitch, they started to quiz me on the five positions:

"Two"

I got on my hand and knees, arched my back, forced my ass up and looked straight forward.

"Three"

I squatted facing the couch, hands behind my head. Sir stared straight into my eyes, and this was the first good opportunity I had to check out Sir and his husband. Even though he was seated, I could tell that Sir was tall, skinny as a rail, with reddish-brown hair. His husband was a bit older, chubbier but still had a cute face. Sir kept me squatting for several minutes, which was an endurance test I could pass with flying colors. He smirked and said, "You seem to know these numbered poses well."

Grinning back at him, I said, "It's not that hard to remember 5 positions!" He stood up, with his crotch right in my face. I breathed through his jeans and enjoyed the faint smell of his cock and balls.

"Five"

I immediately moved into plank position, while both of them walked around me and talked about me like I wasn't there. "You may have found a good slave," Sir's husband remarked.

"Four"

My mind went blank. Oh shit -- I couldn't remember the fourth position. One of them started slapping me on the ass -- hard enough that it hurt through my jeans. "Aaaagghhh, please, Sir. I will remember it in just a second."

"Four"

I tried to gather my thoughts and recall the fourth position, when one of them again started beating my butt hard. This flustered me pretty bad -- making it even harder to remember the position.

"Four"

I suddenly remembered the position -- stood up, spread my legs and put my hands on my hips like Superman. They both started to laugh, and Sir's husband said "You shouldn't be posing like Wonder Woman. Your hands go behind your butt."

Correcting my posture, Sir stepped in front of me while his husband stepped behind me. They closed the distance, and, because I am a foot shorter than Sir, my nose was less than an inch from Sir's sternum.

"Let's strip you off," Sir said as they each gripped my shirt and pulled it over my head. Sir whispered "Nice," as they ran their hands over my chest, nipples and six pack abs. Of course, my cock was now straining against my tight jeans.

Sir's partner exclaimed "Time for the reveal," as he reached around and unbuttoned my jeans. They pulled the jeans down to my ankles, and Sir's husband left the room. Sir smiled broadly, as I stood silently in just my jockstrap and pants around my ankles. With my head still down, I could see that his boner was rock hard and pushing against his jeans. Finally, his husband returned with a one-dollar bill and handed it to Sir right in front of my face.

Sir explained, "I thought that you would be in a plain white jock, and my husband thought you had better taste than that. So, we placed a $1 wager, and I won because you are a trashy whore."

Knowing that they had a friendly bet about my jock strap was surprisingly humiliating. I stood there with a beet red face and my dick tenting the jock strap, feeling reduced to a piece of meat - - - and loved it.

Now let's cut to the good stuff: Here are some of my favorite vignettes from the evening:

* * * * * Cleaning the Bathroom * * * * *

Sir told me to get the cleaning supplies out of the closet and clean their bathroom -- giving me 30 minutes to complete the first task. Still wearing only my jock, I started by scrubbing the toilet, moved to the medicine cabinet, and then started on the sink and tub. At some point, I walked back to Sir and his husband in the living room and asked for a broom and dustpan.

"Sure -- we can help you with that -- but it'll cost you several minutes in five." I stood there in my jockstrap not sure what he meant until he said, "POSITION 5 -- NOW". I immediately dropped into plank position -- completely prone on the floor resting on my toes and forearms. Sir stood on my hands while asking his husband to put the broom in the bathroom. Sir reminded me, "This is time you're wasting because the clock hasn't stopped."

After several minutes in a plank position, my abs started to burn and my legs, ass and torso were shaking. Eventually, Sir let me get up and told me to get back to cleaning their bathroom.

I was cleaning for only a few minutes when they both walked in and announced, "Time's up! Let's inspect your work." Sir bent me over the bathroom sink, pushed my face and cheek against the mirror and started dry humping me. In the background, I could hear his husband comment on my work.

"The faucet in the tub is still dirty -- look, I can scratch a frowning face in the soap scum!"

"Look at the hair in the drain"

"The tub needs to be scrubbed better"

"He just swizzled the toilet but didn't clean under the rim"

When his husband was ready to inspect the bathroom sink, Sir dragged me across the bathroom and pushed me against the opposite wall while continuing to dry hump me. I was overwhelmed by getting manhandled against the wall, dry humped and trying to pay attention to the additional work I needed to complete. My head was spinning. I was breathing heavy while feeling Sir's dick humping me through his jeans, and my dick was leaking into its jockstrap.

When the inspection of my work stopped, Sir commanded me to turn around. "Tell me what you need to clean again!" he demanded.

The power differential was obvious. Sir was fully clothed and a foot taller than me, I was standing at attention in my jockstrap but breathless, with my nose once again inches from the center of his chest. Despite my best effort to remember, I failed to recite the list of things that still had to be cleaned.

Sir reminded me of what I failed to clean properly and made me repeat each item after him. He spoke slowly and made me repeat each back slowly - - - like I was a dumb jock who otherwise wouldn't remember. I stood there nearly naked on humiliating display and in an obviously inferior, submissive and subservient role.

"Go get one of your boots, boy. You'll finish cleaning the bathroom with it tied to your balls." After I fetched a heavy boot from near the front door, he secured it tightly to my balls with the boot lace. It not only pulled my balls down several inches but also caused my completely hard dick to pop out of the jock and painfully point to the floor, too.

Sir turned as he was leaving the bathroom and said, "Oh yeah -- don't forget to clean the smudge your face left on the mirror and lick up any precum that leaks on the floor." He laughed and walked out.

* * * * * Cleaning the Bedroom * * * * *

I was given 20 minutes to clean the bedroom and hallway to the bedroom, which included a lot of vacuuming. I wasn't even close to done with the baseboards when the 20 minutes were up, and Sir walked in and told me to kneel in front of the bed. He sat on the bed and started to list the things that weren't yet cleaned -- bedroom window, half the baseboards, dusting, vacuuming under furniture, etc -- and asked me what excuse I could give.

He was looking down at me, while I kneeled staring at his crotch -- I really wanted his dick in my mouth! He had still not shown me his dick, despite the fact that he'd seen every inch of my body at this point. Knowing that he wanted me to accept responsibility, I apologized profusely for not meeting his expectations and told him that I had mismanaged my time. I begged him for another ten minutes to finish cleaning.

"Before you get back to cleaning my bedroom, let's weigh you!" he said. "You told me that you were 125 pounds, and I want to verify that's accurate." He had me stand on the scale, and, when it indicated that I actually weighed 123 pounds, he threw me on my back on the bed, picked up my ankles and dry humped me again. There's only one position that I like getting fucked in - - - and this is it. My dick went rock hard and oozed precum as it stuck out from the top of my jock's waistband.

He eventually laughed, "You like that too much, bitch. Now get back to work." And walked out the door.

* * * * * Starving and Eating Like a Dog * * * * *

Before I share this vignette from the evening, I need to explain the following: I am a genuine switch and equally enjoy the sub and dom roles. For this reason, I usually have a small stable of subs that I am using and had been experimenting with food deprivation among my subs. They would often be ordered to not eat on the day they were supposed to serve me. It was interesting how each sub reacted differently: it made some more submissive, some more aggressive, and actually broke one sub - - - he ended up crying when I ate a bowl of ice cream in front of him.

Because I was interested to see how food deprivation would change me, I hadn't eaten all day and made sure that Sir and his husband knew this. After cleaning their bedroom, Sir blindfolded me, ordered me on my knees in front of his chair and started to smear bacon on my face. It smelled fucking delicious. Then he said, "Pant if you want some bacon, doggie."

Now I've never been into pup play, but I was hungry as fuck and eager for some bacon. I stuck my tongue out and panted like my life depended on it. I heard him tell his husband, "Wow! He's like our old dog Casey!".

He then made me do some tricks wearing only my jock: I sat up and begged, rolled over, and even responded to the command "shake" the way a dog would. Eventually, he balanced a small piece of bacon on my nose and told me to pant and hold it there. My cock was straining in the white jock strap, but all I could think about was the delicious bacon.

Then he put it on my tongue and said, "Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Keeping holding it and keep panting. Don't you dare eat it bitch" I sat there on my knees for at least two minutes with a piece of bacon on my panting tongue just hoping he'd finally let me eat it. Eventually he said, "Okay boy, you can eat it." And I swallowed the bacon.

He told me to "Thank me for your dinner," and I started kissing his feet and thanking him with all my heart for the small piece of bacon.

Guess food deprivation turns me into a groveling bitch!

* * * * * On Display * * * * *

They ended the night with me displayed on all fours on the coffee table. I was in this position for about an hour, while they watched TV; made me blow the snickers bar I brought (but I wasn't allowed to eat it); put ice cubes on my back and in my jock and let it melt naturally; and played with every erogenous zone on my body. At one point, Sir started to lick my ear, and I responded by gently licking and kissing his neck.

He immediately stood up and slapped me hard: "Your body is for me to play with. I never said you could touch me you stupid bitch."

That's pretty much how the night went - - - it was entirely one-sided. They were clothed all night long, and I was in a jock strap. I wasn't allowed to touch myself, and they never touched my dick. All night long, I wanted to suck their dicks but they wouldn't let me. They made it pretty clear that I was just an object, a play thing and a servant - - - and that they had very little use for me otherwise.

Of course, they sent me home without cumming. When I finally got back to my apartment after an hour-long subway ride back home, I texted to ask permission to cum, and it was granted. To say the last, I jerked out a huge load thinking about my humiliations from the night.

* * * * * Did we hook up again? * * * * *

It was a hot time for me.

Unfortunately, my performance as a sub didn't warrant a repeat performance. I reached out to them several times but was never allowed to serve them again.

Perhaps one day I'll find another hot guy or couple that will use me in this way.