Becoming Hazel's Toy

Hazel untied me, and left the room. My mind was racing. I couldn't believe what had just happened. The sweet, intelligent, college girl I had met a few weeks back had turned into some kind of crazy dominatrix. There was nothing I could do about it, now that she had taken those pictures of me, and she still held the keys to my cage.

I walked sorely to the bathroom, and began running myself a shower. The detail I still couldn't wrap my head around was how much I had enjoyed her fucking me, despite the degrading nature of the experience. My ass still hurt as I started my shower, but there was another sensation I didn't want to admit to; arousal. My cock was still tightly packed in the cage she had made me wear, and I hadn't had any release in over a week, something that hadn't happened since I had turned 13.

I slowly began to realise that this permanent horniness she had tricked me into gave her another form of power over me. Not only could I not disobey her, for fear that she might distribute her compromising pictures of me, I also had to do what she said if I ever wanted to experience any kind of sexual release again.

I finished my shower, and dried myself off. I pushed open the bathroom door, and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Hazel standing right in front of it.

"Hi Josh," she smiled, "how did you like our fun earlier?"

I didn't answer, instead looking down at my feet.

"You loved it, didn't you," she answered for me, "I could tell from your moans," she said, and winked.

I felt my face burn with embarrassment, and continued to stare at the ground.

"Say Josh," she said, "my room's looking a little dirty," she explained as she pointed to the unmade bed, "clean it for me."

Not hearing a response, she grabbed my chin and pulled my face up.

"Say Yes Mistress," she ordered.

"Yes Mistress," I replied softly.

"Now say thank you for letting me serve you, Mistress," she continued. I did as I was told.

"Good boy," she murmured approvingly.

"I'm going out do some shopping," she said, "have it done by the time I get back." With that, she left the room. I heard her walk down the stairs, and leave the house.

Left alone with my chastity cage still on, I began to clean Hazel's room. I started by making the bed, memories of earlier flooding through my mind as I picked up the strap-on and handcuffs to pack them in her closet. After about an hour, I had finished, so I sat on the bed and let the nature of my situation sink in, while I tried desperately to think of a way out.

A few minutes later, I heard the front door open again, and Hazel began to make her way upstairs. She was carrying several bags, and looked at me sternly when she made it to her room.

"Slave," she said, "next time I come back from outside, I want you to be kneeling in front of the door, ready to help me with my shopping." She walked over to me.

"Now kiss my feet and beg for my forgiveness." She ordered.

Reluctantly, I got down on all fours.

"Please forgive me Mistress," I said despite myself, and started to kiss her feet.

She started scrolling through her phone, paying me no mind. After a few seconds of this, she put her phone away again.

"Ok, slut, I accept your apology. Don't let it happen again," she said. "I bought some things for you," she continued excitedly, and began pulling things out of the bags she had brought home.

"Close your eyes," she commanded, and I did as she ordered.

She started placing some of the things she had bought onto the bed, and after a few seconds told me to open my eyes again. On the bed was a collar, a pair of high heels with what looked to be padlocks on them, a skimpy French maid's outfit, and some makeup.

"Stay on your knees and crawl closer to me, toy," she said. My heart sank as I realised things were only going to get crazier from here.

After I did as she told me, she attached the collar to my neck, and locked it in place. It was pink leather, and had "Good Girl" written in silver letters across the front. It felt tight on my neck, and I struggled to get used to the feeling. Then she made me stand up, and put on the pair of pink stilettoes she had placed on the pillow. I put on the first shoe, and she locked it in place, before doing the same with the second.

"Try standing up," she ordered, and I almost fell to my knees as I struggled to stand with the new heels. She laughed.

"You'll get used to them," she said, reassuringly, "after all, they're not coming off."

I shuddered a little at what she had told me, and felt my heart beat faster. Hazel made me take off my clothes, that were already mangled from the scissors she had used on them when I had been tied to the bed earlier, and started unpacking the maid's outfit. It was black and white, and looked like something out of a sex tape. First, she made me put on the panties she had given me earlier, before forcing me into the outfit. The fabric was silky, and I felt extremely exposed as the short skirt brushed against my newly shaven legs. The package had come with two white fishnet gloves, which she made me wear as well.

Once this was done, she made me sit down on the bed again and started applying make-up to my face.

"You'll need to learn how to do this yourself, slut," she explained, "but I'll do it for you since this is your first time."

She started by applying some foundation and concealer, before moving on to blush and eyeshadow, finishing on some eyeliner and mascara. This continued for what seemed like an eternity, before she finally stepped back to admire her work.

"Wow, such a pretty girl," she said approvingly, nodding to herself.

At this point I had had enough, and I began to feel anger at how quickly I had agreed to this treatment at her hands.

"Hazel, what is this? What are you doing to me? I don't want to do this," I stammered, angrily.

Hazel slapped me across the face, and I looked up in shock.

"You'll do what I say, toy," she replied sternly, looking at me harshly. "Do I need to remind you of your place? I own you." she said. I looked at the floor, my face burning from where her hand had landed.

"I think I've hear enough from you," she said, bluntly, and went to get the ball gag from earlier, which she shoved roughly into my mouth, before locking it in place. Once this was done, she pulled me to my feet, and marched me to her bathroom mirror, as I struggled to walk with my new stilettoes. I would have gasped when I made it in front of the mirror, if it hadn't been for the gag in my mouth.

Staring back at me was a gagged, heavily made-up French maid, wearing a collar with the words "Good Girl" emblazoned on it. The only things identifying me as a boy were the tiny bulge of the chastity cage in my panties, and my short hair.

"Not bad," Hazel murmured to herself, "just one thing missing." With that, she left the room, leaving me to stand awkwardly in front of the mirror.

After about a minute, she returned with a platinum blonde wig. I could only moan faintly in protest as she placed it onto my scalp, completing my look.

"You look so cute," Hazel said to me, "but you still have lots to learn. You see, toy, since I was a young girl, I've always wanted a slave. Someone who would do whatever I asked of them, unquestioningly, to make my life easier. Since the first time I saw you, I knew you would be perfect for that role, and look how right I was!" she chuckled.

"You still have a lot of work to do," she continued, "and a lot of training to undergo, before you can be my perfect, obedient, toy, but I think we've made some headway, don't you?" she laughed again.

"My parents are away for a few weeks on business, so I have the house to myself, which of course means I have you all to myself as well," she explained, "isn't that exciting?"

"Before anything else, I should take a picture of this moment, as a testament to my hard work," she said, and pulled out her phone. She snapped a few pictures of me in my outfit, sometimes asking me to get on my knees, or bend over, which I did not without some difficulty given the heels. Once this was done, she attached a leash to my collar, and lead me through the house to the kitchen.

"You see, slave," she continued, "I was being sincere when I said I liked you. I don't want you to misinterpret the nature of your situation. I wish you no harm, in fact, I want what's best for you. With time, you will learn to serve me well, and you will start to see that your place is at my feet, always."

Hazel pulled my lead and lead me to the sink, where she instructed me to clean some dirty dishes that were laid out. I did as she told me, my new heels clicking on the kitchen floor, gag stuck uncomfortably in my mouth, as she continued to talk to me from the sofa.

"You might be wondering why I made you dress up like this," she said, "and I don't blame you; I understand how it could be confusing to you. You see, submission and dominance are largely linked to external factors; what one wears, the car one drives, the job one has, etc. Put a man in a suit, he thinks he runs the world. Put that man in a collar and some high heels, and he knows his place. In time, these external reminders won't be necessary for your mind to submit to me, but that doesn't mean I won't make you wear them," she winked at me.

I continued doing the dishes, as Hazel lay on the couch. After a while, I had finished most of the work, and Hazel spoke to me again.

"Slave!" she called, "Crawl to me."

Quickly, I put away the pan I was cleaning, and got onto my hands and knees. I started crawling towards her, my eyes firmly on the floor, until I reached her feet. She sat up on the couch, and smiled.

"You're learning so fast," she cooed. "Now, toy, your Mistress wants you to pleasure her. Your penis is in a cage, as it should be, and I have no intention of releasing you soon, so you must practice pleasing me with your tongue. Start by kissing my feet." With those words, she removed my gag, and I felt relief as tension dissipated from my jaw.

Almost instinctively, I began to worship her feet, kissing them up and down in turn. As I was doing this, I began to feel my mind fracture.

One side of me was outraged at my predicament. It felt humiliated, degraded, and wanted nothing more than to escape. The image of myself in a maid's outfit, collared and heeled, kissing Hazel's feet was breaking my ego, and that was painful in many ways.

At the same time, another side of me was beginning to take shape. A side that somehow enjoyed being Hazel's slave, humiliating outfit and all. A side that would flood my brain with dopamine whenever Hazel would call me a good boy, and wanted nothing more than to submit to her every whim.

I continued to kiss her feet for a few minutes, as she scrolled through her phone. She had a habit of doing this: paying me no mind as I devoted myself to her.

"Now kiss me through my panties, toy," she instructed, and spread her legs, letting me see through her skirt the lacy panties she was wearing.

I did as I was told, and began kissing her thighs and panties, feeling my cock throb in its cage as I gave myself to her. Eventually, I started to notice her get wet, and she began to moan softly. A sense of pride and happiness to have pleased her took over my mind, and I doubled my efforts, kissing and licking with renewed intensity.

"You can remove my underwear now, slut," said Hazel, and I happily did as I was told, slowly removing her panties as though uncovering some precious artifact. I thus found myself again facing her perfect pussy, its neatly trimmed triangular bush standing in contrast to my completely shaved body, a testament to her dominance over me. I began to lick it, ignoring the pain in my legs from kneeling in front of her, and felt my mind explode with pleasure.

Although I wasn't receiving any sexual gratification myself, the act of serving her, and the moans and sighs coming from her mouth seemed to substitute this. I started to feel my frustrated cock leak precum through the bars of its cage, making a stain on the front of my panties.

Hazel's pussy continued to get wetter as I lapped at it furiously, coating my face with her scent, and with her juices.

I lost track of time, as I focused on the task at hand, and eventually Hazel's legs began to shake gently, and she wrapped them around my head, trapping me between her thighs.

"Ohhh fuckk yesss you slut!" she moaned, as I continued to lick.

Eventually, her moans subsided, and she pulled me out from between her thighs.

"You did so well," she said to me adoringly, and my heart filled with happiness at her words of approval.

"Now, go clean yourself up," she ordered. I scampered to my feet and quickly walked upstairs.

Looking in the mirror, I could see my make-up was smudged, and I washed it off my face. I felt the urge to also remove my wig, and maybe my maid's outfit, since those were the only things I was wearing that weren't padlocked, but I felt that would get me in trouble. My panties were stained with precum, and my penis looked pitifully desperate in its cage.

Hazel walked up behind me. She looked at my now make-up free face with a hint of disappointment.

"Tomorrow, we don't have any classes, so I want you to stay at home. Here is what you need to do; First, you need to learn how to do your makeup like a good girl, and have it on by the time I get back. Second, you need to finish the dishes, and have dinner ready for me. I'm going out to see some friends, and I expect these tasks to be completed in full. Do you understand, toy?" she asked.

"Yes Mistress," I answered, making a mental note of everything she had told me.

"Good," she said. "Now, it's getting late, let's get to bed."

She walked up to the bed, and got under the covers. I walked over to it, still in my high heels, and was just about to get in when she stopped me.

"What do you think you're doing?", she asked, looking at me with disapproval, "Bitches sleep on the floor." She pointed next to the bed on her right, to what looked like a dog's bed.

"This used to be Rex's bed," she explained, "but he's no longer with us, so lucky you I guess," she chuckled.

Slowly, I did as I was told. Curled up at the foot of her bed, I didn't have the courage to ask her if I could maybe take off my heels.

"Good night, toy," Hazel said, turning off the light.

"Good night, Mistress," I answered.

As I drifted off to sleep, the old part of me wished for an end to this, while the new and growing part of my mind, the one Hazel had created, only wished for more ways to please my Mistress.