I Kept My Promise Of Being A House Slave For A Day

You know that promise you make with your best friend? The one where you agree to marry each other at a certain age if both of you are still single at that time. Well, my best friend and I did things a little bit differently. 

He had always had a very specific bondage fantasy but never seemed to find anyone who was up to living out this particular fantasy of his. It was one drunken night, after many bottles of red wine, that we made the pact. I would be his first willing participant in his ultimate bondage sex fantasy if, and only if, we were both single at 30 and he had still never dusted off any of his bondage toys. Yes, he had quite the selection, the little sex freak. 

A week before his 30th, we were on the phone talking about his birthday plans and what he wanted as a gift. He went quiet for a bit and said, “You know exactly what I want. It’s time to cash in our pact.” We both laughed. “What, so you really never….” “Nope” I knew him well enough to hear how a smile crept on his face while saying it. 

The first thing I needed to do was Google: What is bondage? I know how very vanilla of me, but I needed to mentally prepare myself for this. If I was going to do it, I couldn’t very well show up and be asking ‘what next’ the entire time, now could I? I wanted to seem like a pro, and I needed to watch a lot more bondage porn to get all the lingo sorted. I concentrated mostly on what the women in bondage videos were doing. To sum it up in one word, they submitted!

I ordered some bondage gear online, and thanks to Amazon prime, it arrived early the next day. He had nothing planned today, so it was the perfect time for it. Under my tracksuit pants and hoodie, I was dressed in the full-body black leather harness with my sexiest lingerie underneath. It was a latex set of red panties with a zip in the back and a matching bra that we bought as a joke years ago. 

Nervously I rang the doorbell, looking left and right to see if there were any neighbors around. We were in the clear. The door opened, and I, maybe a bit awkwardly, threw my hoodie and pants to the ground. His jaw dropped, and cereal and milk dropped to the floor along with the bowl he was holding.

“Did master order a slave for the day?” I winked and bit my lip as I said it, suddenly aware of how sexy it made me feel. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Trying hard to hide the massive boner in his pants, he stood there staring at me for a while before realizing I was practically still outside of his house. He pulled me in and closed the front door behind me. 

I walked over to the kitchen to grab some paper towels, feeling his eyes on me with every step I took. Taking inspiration from all the porn I’ve been watching, I crawled back on all fours and stayed on my knees as I dabbed the milk from his pants. I looked up at him: “Can your slave lick the milk off for you, master?”

Instantly he understood this wasn’t a prank, this was really happening, and it was like a switch turned on in his mind. “No! You haven’t deserved the privilege yet. Follow me.”

I was taken aback by how much that made me want him even more. The fact that he wasn’t allowing me to have my way made me want to earn it. I wanted this more than I thought I would. There and then, I realized I would do whatever he wanted.

I noticed the cross in the back. It was a piece of bondage furniture that I never knew he had. Before I could think to ask when he got it, I was pinned against it, our lips meeting in a kiss that was so carnally driven I could taste the lustfulness on his tongue. His hands held a firm grip on my wrists as his hard cock rubbed against my bondage lingerie, right over my pussy, making me tingle with such anticipation as I got wetter and wetter with each moment. 

Next, he tied my hands to the cross with a red rope bondage devotees might use for shibari. He unzipped my lingerie and started licking the walls of my pussy. Moving in delicate motions, building up speed and ferocity. I was his to do as he wanted, and I wanted it that way. His fingers were next to fuck my wanting hole. One finger, then two, then his too, I’m guessing, joined in, and I begged for more. As soon as I did, he stopped. 

This was all a game to him, a masterful bondage game that he knew all the rules to, and he held all the cards. I was just a pawn in this game of pleasure, and I loved every second of it. He knew how to make me want more, and he knew when to take exactly what he wanted. Most of the day, I was tied to that cross, teased, kissed, licked, and every now and then, he would fuck me so hard I had to wear a ball gag to keep quiet. 

A mix of cum and juices were dripping down my leg when he untied me from the cross. He kept my hands bound together, fingered me once more, licked the cum off his fingers, and kissed me one last time. 

“You are done for the day, slave. You can get dressed. But let’s not wait this long again to have another day like this one, okay. That’s an order.”

Needless to say, my best friend turned into my master that day, and I have been his little cum slave ever since. My desire for more grows increasingly more insatiable every time he fucks me.