A young virgin beta boy has a unique relationship with sweet, but dominant Miranda who has made"Mousie" into more than her plaything and a cuck..... Mousie is about to find out his place in the relationship.
Miranda rang the handbell that she used to summon me. I was at the kitchen sink of her luxurious home, finishing up a batch of dirty dishes. I quickly set aside my work and got out of the apron, which was the only thing I'd been wearing. That abbreviated garment hadn't covered much. It had a brief bib front, with the lower section barely long enough to cover my male parts. Any concealment of those was welcome, as I'm so sensitive about them being displayed. My shyness is amplified by the fact that Miranda has had all of my body hair removed. Worse, that change turned out to be permanent. I doffed the small piece of clothing and took a steadying breath. Padding through the spacious house on bare feet, I reached the living room.
She was lounging on a couch that was worth more than I used to earn annually, when I was still out in the external world. That's how wealthy she was. The security her money would offer was not the reason I was attracted to her. Instead, there were her willowy figure and sweet face. Plus, I felt that our personalities meshed, because she was a take-command sort and I'd always avoided making major decisions. And so, I fell in love. Our relationship had deepened over time, if only for me. Oddly, it never led to sex. I had been hoping to lose my virginity. At 19, I was overdue to make that move. It's not that I was a bad looking guy. Sure, I'm short and slender, without any obvious masculine attributes. That last situation includes not having a full-size penis. In fact, what's between my legs is rather small. After the loss of my pubic hair, it appeared even smaller.
Once I was in front of her, she ignored me for several minutes, while she examined something on the screen of her phone. I stood there fidgeting, which I can't help doing when I'm exposed in her presence.
At last, she glanced up at me. "There you are, Mousie. You could have been quicker to get here."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am."
"You might need to have your tail end reddened for such tardiness."
"I understand." My voice was a soft whisper.
"But not right now. There's something else I want to think about. It's an amusing idea I had last night, while you were serving me so well in bed."
Memories of that flashed back in my mind. Of course, I had been fully undressed, like usual. She wore a short nightie, as if to remind me of our relative statuses, concerning clothes. I noticed that she had on no panties, which told me what I was expected to do. However, instead of letting me get my head between her thighs right away, she had me kneel between her spread legs and plant my hands on either side of her. That brought my chest down, within easy reach. Miranda got busy toying with my nipples. I'm very sensitive there, so my little dick responded by getting so hard that it hurt. My testicles were uncomfortable too. That was no surprise, as I hadn't been allowed to empty them for days and days. She gave me a long teasing session, all the while commenting on how she kept me naked and let me live there, not as her lover, but only as a lowly nude houseboy. Talking about what she had reduced me to added to her excitement. By the time I got my mouth on her pussy, she was wet and more than ready to be pleasured. Not until she had three powerful climaxes was she sated. Instead of sending me to my room, which is decorated in an overly feminine style, with an narrow canopied bed in the center, she allowed me to sleep alongside her. I wasn't able to slip into slumber for quite some time, as our proximity kept me in a constant state of longing.
I was snapped out of those memories when she made a throat-clearing sound to regain my attention. At that moment, she assigned me the menial task of hand-laundering her delicate underthings. I had to use a special soap and do each pair of panties by hand. She had saved them up for several days. We both knew that it was difficult for me to resist sniffing them. This time, she snickered and said I was welcome to do that. I thanked her profusely, though it embarrassed me to admit out loud to my habit. After I was done, she was already in bed, so I simply went to my room. I sat at my pink and white vanity table, to brush my lengthening hair. It had grown to collar length. Seeing myself in the mirror, I was again made aware of how my body language and even my expressions had changed. I honestly was a simpering and effeminate young man.
The next morning, she was ready to enact her her fresh idea. We returned to the living room and she once more occupied the couch. I sank onto my knees, staring worshipfully up at her.
She found something on the phone and held it out for me to see. "Here's what I've ordered for you, Mousie," she said.
It had been so long since I'd heard her address me by my real name, instead always calling me the unwelcome one. On the screen I saw a chastity cage, one so tiny that if I wore it, my small dick would be compressed into almost nothing. The news that she intended to lock me into something like that made me go cold inside. I had another reaction at the same time. My heart leapt. After how long I had already spent under her thumb, any sort of special attention she paid to me registered as affection. Even a spanking got translated, in my thinking, to a show of care. My mixed emotions made me shudder.
"Are you really going to put that on me?" I dared to ask, forgetting my normal habit of not questioning her.
"That's right, Mousie. I ordered it early this morning, with special rush delivery. In fact, you still have some money in your bank account, and since you're not allowed to use your credit card since I confiscated it, I thought it would be amusing to make you pay for your own enforced celibacy. Isn't that clever of me?"
My mouth was dry. I managed to say, "You're always so clever."
"That's one of the reasons you agreed to sign my contract and work here, in exchange for room and board, but without pay." She chuckled. "The added terms on that document made you like a piece of property I own, didn't they?" She never tired of reminding me what I'd done to myself, in the hope of employment somehow leading to romance, which had brought my life so fully under her rule.
"Yes, Ma'am." I was no longer permitted to address her by name.
"It should be here tomorrow. There will also be some other goodies I included, to create a new look for you. Aren't you eager for the package to arrive, my little plaything?"
Again, my mind went in two directions at once. What would have been a tie score was tilted to one side by a deciding factor. My dick throbbed and grew halfway hard. She saw that. How could she miss it, with me being fully naked?
"Mmmm," she purred. "Now I have another inspired idea. You still have to get that punishment you earned yesterday, for being so slow to answer my bell." She picked up the instrument, which was made of real silver, and gave it a ring. "So be a good rodent and fetch me..." She paused thoughtfully to consider what she wanted to use to punish my buns. "... the bamboo cane."
I flinched. That was a particularly painful implement. Miranda liked to keep her various discipline tools in different locations. It was my responsibility to know where each one was, so I could retrieve them rapidly. Knowing she had a clear view of my bottom as I departed, I scurried away. Soon, what she was seeing would cease to be pale, and get decorated with vivid red stripes. I scooted up the stairs and along the landing, into one of the many bedrooms. This one had been equipped with dungeon decor, for when she wished to conduct extended sessions of correction. My eyes ran over the familiar items and the sight of them chilled me. There was a padded bench, fitted with straps, a cage the size of a portable dog kennel, a rocking horse onto the seat of which various dildos could be mounted, and a set of adjustable stocks. I seized the cane and dashed away. Taking too many minutes would cost me additional suffering.
Back in the living room, I dropped to my knees and handed it to her. Miranda took a few swings through empty air. She smiled at me. I loved it when she did that, even if it was associated with upcoming discomfort.
"Over there," she said, pointing to an antique chair. "Put your hands on the seat."
I assumed the position. Behind me, I heard her rise and unhurriedly come closer. There was a swishing sound as she again swung the cane high. Next, she tapped it against my offered buttocks, perhaps deciding where to place the initial blows. Then, with a snap of her wrist that was extremely effective, she swatted me across both bottom cheeks at once. I yelped in spite of myself. Then I gritted my teeth. No matter how often she felt it necessary to punish me, I always tried not to break down, though I rarely succeeded in maintaining my composure. The strokes came, one after another, spaced to cover my backside completely. In case she demanded that I give her a count of how many there had been, I mentally kept track. After a dozen, I was shaking uncontrollably, but still had held myself together. There were a final four, given across the tender backs of my thighs. Those pushed me over the edge. I broke down and wept piteously.
She murmured, "You're such a weakling, Mousie. And now you've gotten me overheated again. This time I feel like relaxing on the couch, with my feet on the floor. I'm sure you won't mind giving me oral service while I'm like that, and you're on your knees again, where you belong."
"I'll be honored to do it, Ma'am."
"Naturally," she said in an offhand way.
I did as she wished, with my bottom blazing the entire time. She enjoyed it as she always did. I was bothered because I knew she had taken a lover and saw him frequently. Miranda had made a point to remind me that every time I used my mouth down there, I was putting it where his penis had been. I detected a difference in how she tasted much of the time, and was sickened by the knowledge of what caused that.
The next afternoon, her package arrived. She had her friend Lacy come to help her with the contents, as well as to spend time being entertained by my pathetic self and how I was treated. They took me to my room and had me lie back on my bed, nude as always. The chastity cage included a ring that Lacy passed over my genitals, pushing the balls through one at a time. Then the pecker prison got fitted over my member. As I had feared, it squished me down to a mere nubbin. The young women thought that was hilariously funny.
"His dick was too small to be of any use," Miranda mentioned, "so this is no loss."
"The poor baby," Lacy said. "I sure hope you won't tantalize him, now that his puny pickle can't get hard. That would leave him SO frustrated."
"I know. That's why I won't tease him any more. I mean, not any more than I already do."
Lacy said, "Your Mousie is going to have such a set of blue balls."
They made a ceremony of turning the key in the barrel lock. Lacy put the key on a chain which went around her neck.
Miranda explained, "She'll hold onto that, just in case I get softhearted and am tempted to let you out of your cage."
To test the device's efficacy, Miranda got busy fingering my nipples. She reduced me to a panting wreck. Then Lacy did the same, except that she wetted her fingertips in her mouth, which elevated my arousal to new levels. If being in chastity was that bad already, what would it be like after a week, or a month, or more?
Reaching into the box again, Miranda took out a pair of cat ears that were mounted on a headband. She fitted it over my scalp and made me meow. Then it was Lacy's turn to go into the box. What she produced was a butt plug, with a black cat tail attached, to match the ears. She had me bend over. At least there was some sort of lube included, which she used enough of to reduce the insertion from awful to merely quite uncomfortable.
After that, I was required to crawl around and make more feline sounds. The stiff curved tail must have been weighted at its tip, which made it sway nonstop. I felt that movement in the stopper that was stretching my rear entrance. It was unpleasant, but somehow added erotic stimulation. The ladies opened a bottle of white wine and toasted each other on the success of my latest humiliations. I was still fretting over the locked state of my dick.
As if belatedly remembering a detail, Miranda announced, "There's one more thing in that box. Let's use it now."
What she showed me was a tiny bell. There must have been some simple way to join it to the chastity, because it took her only seconds to make the connection.
She told me, "It's like the old story about the mice who put a bell around a cat's neck. That way, he couldn't sneak up on them. For me, every time I hear yours tinkling, I'll be given a lovely reminder that you're somewhere near and keeping busy. Also, that you're safely closed up in chastity. And when you're using your mouth on me, I want you to keep your ass wiggling, so we'll have some musical accompaniment to what your lips and tongue are doing for me."
They both laughed. I felt my cheeks grow warm and knew I was blushing.
"One more thing," Miranda wanted to add. "Now that you're that cat who got belled, I can't call you Mousie anymore. From now on, my silly sissy slave, I'm going to call you Kitty."
What could I say?
"Yes, Ma'am." Just to be safe, also said, "Thank you, Ma'am. Thank you very much."
"Now crawl some more for us," she ordered.
I did it, accompanied by the nonstop sound of my little bell dinging, as it humbled me further with every sound it made.
The End
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(Keeping Mousie nude was inspired by the story HUMILIATING EXAM, written by Joe X, and available on this site. I hope you'll read his contribution and leave him a comment. Thank you, Mr. X.)
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