I was left alone for hours. I could hear my girlfriend and neighbor coming and going and talking and laughing. At some point one of them entered into the attic and rummaged around for a few things. I asked if they were enjoying themselves – no reply. I ask if I were getting let out anytime soon – no reply. I asked if I could be of use as a sex toy – no reply.
My bratty side would have bubbled to the surface. Stomping my feet and yelling out. Not because I was unhappy. Because I wanted attention. But my mind was so foggy I simply continued to lay down, eventually I fell asleep.
I slipped in and out of my ‘nap’ and eventually came to feel as if I slept for a while. The house was stone silent. For some reason I just had the feeling that they were gone. I called out a few times, knowing that because I had been silent for so long I might get a reply. Nothing. I was either abandoned, or ignored.
More time passed before I heard a car outside and a door closing. The familiar *beep* of Meg locking her car was a relief. She *left me* like this. I could hear footsteps to the second floor, down the hallway, into the room, door opening and footsteps ascending the attic steps to me.
“Hi” her hands pushed my hair out of my blindfolded face as I sat upright.
“I missed you” I said in all my submissive and obedient glory.
“Aw, you’re so cute. I had so much fun today with Jen! I’m proud of you for being such a good toy!”
My love language in a pure vanilla world has and always will be affirmation. So to be told I was a *good toy* and that I made her *proud* for being one was right in my wheelhouse.
“I have a surprise for you…”
My head was pulled forward until the chastity cage was pressed upon my lips. I kissed the resin tube, tongue darting into the slit to taste what little cock and precum I could. Instinctively I sucked and kissed and licked Meg’s perfectly framed balls.
“Our release is predicated upon how well you do as her slave in two weeks when I’m out of town” Meg told me as she undid my straitjacket and took off my blindfold. I was staying sealed into my belt as well. She was loaning me out. Never asked permission. She was simply under the impression I would be okay with whatever arrangement the two of them had.
Ugh.
Our neighbor played it quite well. She would text Meg to check in on both our chastity imprisonments. I was wildly horny. Meg was doing a little better due to her extensive chastity experience. She would wave hi to us as we did yard work. Nobody viewing from the outside would think we were anything but neighbors when in reality she held the keys to both our devices.
Meg was slated to leave Friday morning. I was to be prepared after work, 6 PM. I kissed her goodbye. Her cage pressing into my leg. “I’ll be fine, baby, you do your best and enjoy your weekend. I’ll miss you and I’ll be thinking of you, but I can’t say I’m jealous!” She teased me as we exchanged more pecks. I was desperately going to miss her no matter what was planned.
I was excited. I was nervous. I was horny. But really, I had to admit, I was scared.
There was a note on the door as I arrived.
“Head down the driveway to the garage. Side door is open. Go down the steps, lock the door behind you once you enter the cellar.”
I didn’t know what to expect of this cellar. I adjusted my belt under my loose fitting running shorts. I wore a sweatshirt with – Providence – my alma mater, emblazoned on the front. It was a warm spring day. I would have spent it with a cocktail on our back porch. Looking at a mundane garage next door. Had we not snowblowed.
The room I entered was more of a small room or a big closet than a full cellar. It was rectangular in shape. Your basic cement floor and various shelves whose sole purpose was to hold wine bottles. I spotted two bags. I didn’t care to look into them. A chair, a mattress pad, and a heavy chain drilled into the wall sat in the far corner. I assumed that’s where I would be as well. There was space to move around, but another piece of furniture would clutter the room.
There was a note on the chair. Handwritten and torn from a notebook. The paper weight it was placed under was a metal collar. Dull, an inch high, thick. Heavy.
“Hello Olivia, your wife assures me that you’re perfectly fine with this idea of ours. I, however, realize I never asked YOU if you were okay with the permission your wife gave on your behalf. Were both well aware that you not consenting outright to me is part of what makes your slave weekend erotic and salacious, so I didn’t dare ruin it by asking permission. Megan has informed me of your preferential kinks, and hard limits. She was glowing the entire time we discussed you and your fetishes. She asks for updates, from me, on your slave performance.
Saying ‘red’ for your safeword will render our play complete and I will immediately stop everything and release you. You can use ‘yellow’ or ‘mercy’ if you want me to slow down, or adjust something, or temporarily stop to check in on you.
Now, if you are apprehensive at all, or if Megan and I have misread the situation, you are free to head back up the stairs. I will not be disappointed, I will fully understand. If this is what you want – and I think this can be a wonderful and fun and memorable experience – I want you to lock the collar around your neck and await my arrival. If I arrive and you’re not here, I will allow you space to reach out. If I arrive, and you’re locked into the collar, then you’re mine for the weekend, I own you and your holes, and we can proceed with this consensual understanding.
See you shortly,
Jen”
I never once thought about backing out until I was given the option. It simply never crossed my mind. I thought it was absolutely principled and moral that she had thought about it. There’s no way I would disappoint myself and back out now, let alone disappoint Meg who clearly put a lot of effort into this.
I folded the note up, locked the door behind me, and placed the collar upon my neck. The lock clicked shut once I lined up the holes. It was heavy. It was more farm animal than BDSM, so I wondered where it came from. I tugged on the chain, locked to a heavy eyelet that was drilled deep into the cement wall. It only pulled on the master lock and rattled. There’s no way it was budging.
Jen arrived. Her Doc Martens laced tight, yoga pants showing off her well crafted frame. Her midriff was exposed, toned and well maintained. A sports bra that doubled as a top completed her outfit. Nothing that screamed Domme or Mistress or Slave owner.
“Strip.” She admonished me for wearing clothes. I didn’t want to assume anything. I apologized as I slipped off my sweater and shorts. I wore no bra, and underwear was useless due to my chastity belt.
“Are you horny?” *Yes, Ma’am*
“Are you nervous?” *Yes, Ma’am*
A matching master lock attached the chain to the ring on the front of the collar.
“Are you scared?” *Yes, Ma’am*
“Are you excited?” *Yes, Ma’am*
“Are you going to do everything I say?” *Yes. Ma’am*
“Do you know your safe words?” *Yes Ma’am*
“Do you want to kiss me?” *Yes Ma’am*
“Good. Come here…”
I crawled towards her, raising up on my knees with my hands on her calves, as she was clothed I assumed she meant a kiss on the lips.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” She growled. I apologized and immediately put my hands behind me.
“No, show me your hands, are you really that disobedient you thought you could touch me?”
Scolded, eyes looking right at her boots, I put my hands out, palms up. The black mitts were from our collection. I used them for puppy play. I balled up my fists as she slipped them on and tightened the buckle. They could be locked on, so they were of course.
“Kiss my boots, clean them with your tongue, I want to see how a little princess like you can degrade herself”
She let out a hefty *sigh* and a low chuckle.
Can’t say I was ever one for foot and boot worship. But I *do* love being talked to like that. My tongue coated each boot, lapping at it like a dog laps at his water bowl. She showed me the soles. Dusty and dirty from the cement floor. I hesitated, a grimace came over my face. Ugh. Yuck. I coughed as the dirt hit my throat. The boot disappeared.
“A test of your obedience. Get on all fours and turn around, good, now head on the ground, place your mitts behind your back. That’s how you’re going to greet me when I knock upon my arrival. I love seeing your tight knot behind that belt. Probably all you’re good for anyways.”
She locked my mitts together behind my back and moved out of the room. The lights flicked off. No goodbye. No return time specified. Just left. I shifted and shuffled to get comfortable, the mattress wasn’t *terrible*. It would have to do.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/un9uhr/ff_my_gf_and_i_had_a_threesome_with_our_friendly