The other day I asked Cat if she had chosen a slave name for me yet. Cat thought for a moment and said that I hadn’t proven myself yet and so I did not deserve her to name me yet. I asked what I needed to do to prove myself to her and Cat told me that she would let me know when she saw the opportunity. For now Cat just refers to me as her “little slave boy,” although she has also made clear that I should respond to either “slave” or “boy” any time she calls.

Yesterday when I was tied to the bed Cat mocked me. She sat between my spread legs and asked “How is my little slave boy feeling all tied up? Are you all horny thinking about me playing with your little cock?” She knew very well that I had no choice but to lock myself out every day at this time and wait for her. She also knew that I had not been allowed sexual release in more than a month and that the only person who could give me that release was her, the only person I focused my attention on. Then she did that thing she does, mounting my very hard cock and riding me until she orgasmed several times. Cat then of course un-mounted me before my release, leaving my cock very hard and wet with her juices. When she does this my cock gets so hard all I can do is wave it around in the air in frustration.

Somehow the name “slave boy” is worse when she refers to me in the third person. Yesterday she made fun of my erection saying “Look at how hard and shiny the little slave boy’s cock is.” Then, as she left the room leaving me tied out she said “Well, have fun with it!” The worst thing about when Cat leaves the room is I never know when she is going to be back. Once we played in the morning and Cat left me there tied up for twelve hours! That day I struggled against the bonds, I peed on myself, and I waited for her. I thought about the things that I needed to do, the things that I wanted to do, but all I could do was lie there and wait. It is humiliating to know that she could keep me bound that way, naked, helpless, and desperate, any day she wants to for as long as she wants.

Update:
Cat is now registering me as her slave. It somehow makes it feel more official to be a registered slave rather than just someone Cat can order around the house. I never want to be tattooed but we are talking about how I could be permanently marked with these numbers. Maybe we will just use an engraved tag welded to one of my ankle chains for now.

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