The silence in the room was thick, heavy with the scent of three men and their shared obedience. Aryan’s weight was a warm, comforting pressure on my back, Rohan’s spend a sticky claim inside me. Master Ansh’s voice was the only thing that existed.
“Beautiful. Absolutely fucking beautiful. Now, Dhruv, stay right there. Don’t you dare let a single drop of their cum escape you. Aryan, I want you to watch. I want you to see what happens to good boys who please me.”
I clenched around Rohan’s softening cock, determined to keep every last drop inside me, a precious offering for my Master. Aryan shifted, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and raw hunger as he watched me.
The line crackled. “Aryan. You performed adequately for a first-time slut. But adequate isn’t good enough for my harem.”
Aryan’s face fell slightly, a flicker of needing to do better crossing his features. “I have a gift for you. A sign of your new membership. Dhruv, be a good little cocksleeve and fetch the black bag from under Rohan’s bed.”
I moved carefully, Rohan’s cock slipping out of me with a soft, wet sound that made us both gasp. I scrambled off the bed, my body thrumming from the recent fucking, and retrieved the simple black duffel. I’d seen it before but never dared to ask.
“Open it. Show him.”
My fingers unzipped the bag. Inside, nestled on black silk, were three items. A small, gleaming pink chastity cage. A matching set of delicate lace panties. And a black lace bralette.
“These are yours now, Aryan,” Master’s voice purred, a dark, seductive promise. “A symbol of your true place. You wanted to see more? This is what more looks like. You’re my newest, prettiest little pet. Dhruv, make him wear it.”
Aryan’s eyes were glued to the lingerie, his cock, still wet from my mouth, giving a fascinated twitch. “Master, I…” he started, but the protest died in his throat, replaced by a shudder of excited anticipation.
“You heard him,” I said, my voice husky. I picked up the panties, the lace soft against my fingers. “Step into them, Aryan. Let me dress you up for Master.”
He obeyed, his movements slow and deliberate, stepping one foot, then the other, into the delicate garment. I pulled them up his powerful thighs, over his knees, the black lace a shocking, beautiful contrast against his tan skin and the dark thatch of his pubic hair. I smoothed them over his ass, the fabric straining slightly across his muscular cheeks.
“Look at that,” Master growled. “All that strength, wrapped up in my pretty lace. Now the bra, Dhruv.”
The bralette was trickier. Aryan stood still as I fastened it around his broad chest. It didn’t fit perfectly—his pecs were too defined, too muscular—but that was the point. The black lace stretched across his torso, his nipples pebbling visibly beneath the delicate fabric. The visual was devastating. He was a god forced into the clothes of a slut, and the submission in his eyes was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
“Now for your crown, my pretty prince,” Master said, his voice dripping with sinister delight. “The cage. Dhruv, put it on him.”
I picked up the pink plastic device. It was small, humiliatingly so. Aryan’s breath hitched as I took his semi-hard cock in my hand. It was still slick with my saliva.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, more for myself than for him. I guided the head of his cock into the opening, my other hand carefully pulling his balls through the base ring. He hissed as the cold plastic constricted him, but he didn’t pull away. I pressed the cage closed, the tiny lock clicking shut with a final, definitive sound.
He was trapped. Caged. His dick, which had just been fucking my throat, was now a useless, pretty pink ornament.
“Magnificent,” Master breathed. “A perfect, caged sissy. Now you’re truly one of my pets. But a pet has duties. All three of you, on your knees. Facing each other.”
We arranged ourselves on the floor, a triangle of kneeling, devoted flesh. Rohan and I, naked and spent. Aryan, a vision of powerful submission in his lace and pink cage.
“Your first duty as a united front,” Master commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Is to clean up the mess you made of each other. I want you to lick. I want you to taste every last drop of the cum you spilled for me. Rohan, you will lick Dhruv’s filthy, dripping hole clean of the load you deposited there. Dhruv, you will lick Aryan’s cage and his pretty lace panties, tasting yourself on him. And Aryan… you will lick Rohan’s soft, spent cock, cleaning your new brother of any remnant of his pleasure. You will serve each other. You will worship the proof of my ownership on each other’s skin. Now.”
The command was so depraved, so intimate, it unraveled me completely. We moved without hesitation, a well-oiled machine of service.
Rohan pushed me forward, onto my hands and knees, and without preamble, his tongue delved between my cheeks. I cried out as his hot, wet tongue swiped through the mess he’d left inside me, lapping at my sensitive, stretched hole, collecting his own release. “Fuck, you taste so good, you filthy bitch,” he groaned against my skin, his tongue driving deeper.
The sensation was overwhelming, pushing me toward the edge all over again. I lowered my head to Aryan’s lap, my own tongue snaking out to lick the pink plastic of his cage. I could taste the faint, metallic hint of the device and the distinct, musky flavor of my own saliva from when I’d sucked him. My tongue traveled lower, licking the black lace of his panties, dampening them further, tasting the sweat and sex of his skin through the fabric.
Above me, Aryan took Rohan’s soft cock into his mouth. He sucked gently, reverently, cleaning him with a tenderness that made my heart ache. The sounds were obscene—lapping, sucking, soft moans of pleasure and degradation.
“That’s it, you disgusting animals,” Master’s voice was a ragged whisper, and I could hear the faint sound of his own stroking on the other end of the line. “Look at you. Three perfect whores, serving each other, serving me. You were made for this. You were born to be a set of matching fucktoys.”
Rohan’s tongue was relentless, fucking into me with a practiced ease that had me seeing stars. I was moaning openly into Aryan’s crotch, my own hips pushing back against Rohan’s face, begging for more.
“Please, Master,” I sobbed, the words muffled by lace and plastic. “It’s so good. Rohan’s tongue… he’s licking me so clean…”
“He’s a good fucking cunt-licker, isn’t he?” Master praised, and I felt Rohan shudder against me, his efforts redoubling.
Aryan pulled off Rohan’s cock with a wet pop. “He tastes like you, Master,” he murmured, his voice full of wonder. “He tastes like your permission.”
“He does,” Master agreed, his voice thick with his own pleasure. “And soon, you all will. This is just the beginning. Now, don’t stop. I want to hear you beg for more. I want to hear you beg for my creampie, even while you’re covered in each other’s.”
Rohan’s tongue plunged deep one final time, and I shattered, a dry, wrenching orgasm seizing my body, my cries of pleasure lost against Aryan’s caged cock as Master’s low, approving laugh echoed in my ear.
