I had taken great pains to symmetrically arrange the cheese wedges, fruit and other nibblers on the serving platter, but Rebecca was too busy ogling a photo on her friend Katie’s cellphone to notice my meticulous craftwork.

“Day-um, girl, you hit that?” My angel leaned forward and plucked a pineapple slice from the tray after I’d placed it on the table and reassumed my position at attention near the sofa with my hands folded like a good sissy maid.

“I’m gonna hit that.” Katie giggled. “I gave him my number last night. And he definitely seemed interested.”

Gina scooted over on the couch to have a look. “Oh, I’ve seen him around at The Odyssey; he’s always talking to that blonde bitch behind the bar.”

“Cassandra.” Katie scowled. “Fuck that ho.”

Gina turned to Rebecca. “Wasn’t Cassandra trying to move in on Bryce?”

My angel scoffed and sipped her wine. “As if that heifer had a chance.”

“How’s it going with Bryce?” Katie set down her phone and grabbed a handful of grapes.

“Oh, I don’t know, he’s a fucking asshole.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. “He thinks he’s the king shit, like he can do whatever he wants to. I’m about getting tired of his bullshit, to tell you the truth.”

“Well, when you’re done with him, send him my way,” Gina said.

Katie slapped her friend’s thigh. “Don’t be a leech, go get your own dick.”

Gina downed her wine and snapped her fingers. “Ree-fill, Chriss-siiieeee,” she sang and I sprang into action.

As I was pouring the Chardonnay, Gina smirked at me. “Did you know Rebecca’s boyfriend has, like, the biggest dick in the world, Chrissie?”

I gulped. “Um … no, Miss Gina.”

“Well, it’s huge.”

Katie held out her empty glass and scoffed at her friend. “How do you know how big it is, bitch? You never seen it.”

“She better not have,” Rebecca said, putting on a serious face before cracking a grin.

Katie took a swig of the wine I’d just poured and pouted my way. “Poor Chrissie, you never get laid, do you?”

“Uh, I, um..”

“Chrissie gets all the sex he needs—with his hand.” Rebecca popped a grape in her mouth. “I can hear his little bed squeaking.”

“Eww, that’s gross,” Katie slurred. “No offense, Chrissie, but it’s kinda creepy to think of a little sissy in the next room perving like that.”

“Oh, stop picking on my Chrissie.” Rebecca smiled up at me. “You were nice and quiet in your little room when I brought Bryce home the other night, weren’t you, baba? No squeaky bed at all, huh?”

“Um, er, no, Miss.”

Katie snarled. “Well, the idea of a sissy jacking off just seems wrong. You need to cage him.”

Rebecca squinched up her face. “Cage him? What’s that mean?”

“One of those cock cages. You never seen one?”

“No, Katie, I’ve never seen a cock cage. What the hell is a cock cage?”

Katie thumbed through her phone and held it up, revealing a photo. “See? A cock cage.”

Gina tittered. “What do you know about cock cages, girl?”

“My sister dated a guy who was into that shit. They call it chastity. A chastity device. They were into the same kind of master and slave stuff you guys are; I told you about them, remember? She said he’d wear this thing and go three, four months without cumming. Said it made him obedient as hell. He even got a piercing on his dick, and it attached to this thing with a lock, so he couldn’t get out unless she unlocked him.”

Rebecca squealed. “OMG, Chrissie’s getting one of those!” She turned to me. “You need to order one, like, today.” The blood drained from my face.

“The piercing, too?” Katie sipped her wine. “Laura says they can squeeze out of the other cages if there’s not a piercing attached to it.”

My angel batted her eyelashes at me. “Would you get your little pinky pierced for me, baba?”

“I, uh … er … if … if you want, Miss.” Tears formed in the corners of my eyes but I managed to blink them back. “Whatever you want, Miss.”

“Awww, that’s so sweeeet,” Gina giggled, presenting her empty wineglass to me. “You’d do anything for Miss Rebecca, wouldn’t you, Chrissie?”

I poured her fourth refill. “Um, yes, Miss Gina, I would.”

Rebecca beamed. “My little baba.”

“I don’t know why you don’t have him wear makeup, and put a wig on him when he’s at home.” Katie dipped a celery stalk into the ranch dressing cup. “Right now, he’s just a little wimpy guy in a maid’s dress.” She took a crunchy bite, and said with her mouth full, “No offense, Chrissie.”

“Makeup would be so cuuuutttee,” the drunken Gina slurred. “You should, Becca.”

My princess looked me up and down and shrugged. “I dunno. I never really thought about it that much; I honestly don’t care what he wears, as long as he does what he’s told.”

“Oh, but it would be so much fuuuunn making him up.” With a smirk, Gina dug into her purse and started pulling out cosmetics. “Come over here, Chrissie; I’m gonna turn you into a pretty little sissy.”

I was having a difficult time breathing, and my ears were hot from the avalanche of humiliation flooding my senses. Makeup had never been a priority to me, since my fantasy, which I’d been living out, revolved around being a man in a maid’s dress and heels, rather than trying to pass as female. But as I shuffled toward the preening Gina, with my heart threatening to thump a hole through my apron, I knew that nobody else in the room gave a rat’s ass about my preferences.

I knelt in the spot where Gina had indicated and she began applying coverup. “This is my good Maybelline, Chrissie, so you better be thankful.”

“T-thank you, Miss Gina.”

Katie turned to Rebecca. “Maybe if you make him look more like a woman, you won’t have to worry about Bryce when he comes over.”

“Oh, hell no.” My angel shook her head. “He’s so homophobic, it ain’t funny. He can’t stand the idea that I’m living with a gay guy; there’s no way he’d go for a man dressed as a woman. I told Bryce that my roommate’s job has him on the road most of the time, so he thinks he’s gone when he comes over — but sometimes I’ll let Chrissie stay in the bedroom if he’s nice and quiet. It’s our little secret, ain’t it, baba?”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

Katie scoffed. “Well, if you slap a wig on him, you could always try to pass him off as a girlfriend — although on second thought, there’s no way Chrissie could ever pass for a woman.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Gina teased as she applied my eyeshadow. “I went to cosmetology school — I’m pretty good.”

“You ain’t that damn good.” Katie smirked at me. “No offense, Chrissie.”

“Come ooonnnnn, you guuyyys, stop picking on my baba.” Rebecca stuck out her bottom lip. “Poor Chrissie, are my mean friends always picking on you?”

“Um … er … uh, it’s okay, Miss.”

“And you don’t mind getting your little thingy pierced for me so you can wear one of those cages? And stop playing with yourself all the time?”

I swallowed, trying to stay still as Gina rubbed rouge onto my cheeks. “N-no, Miss.”

“You’re so special,” Rebecca said. “My special little doll.”

Katie sneered. “Hey, Chrissie, what do you think of when you play with yourself?”

“Um …” I would’ve closed my eyes, but Gina’s eyeliner pencil prohibited it.

Rebecca huffed. “You better be thinking of me.”

“Oh, of course, I do, Miss. That’s all I ever think about when I … when I…”

My angel waved her hand. “Ew, please, do not be more specific, Chrissie.”

Everyone laughed as I fought back another round of tears, not wanting my newly applied eyeliner to run.

When the mirth faded, Gina snapped her compact shut, grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward Rebecca and Katie, who both broke into applause.

“OMG, you are so pretty, Chrissie.” Rebecca held her hand to her mouth. “I don’t know why I never thought to have you wear makeup before, but it’s perfect. You look like a little doll with your rosy cheeks. I want you to always have big, rosy cheeks like that, okay, Chrissie?”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

“All you need is a wig. Go buy one. A blonde, curly one, so you’ll look like a little doll. My little Chrissie doll, with the rosy red cheeks. Go get the wig and one of those cock cage things, too. Actually, do the research and then show me all the different ones; I’ll pick. And then you can go get your piercing.”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

“Ooh, I want to see him get pierced,” Gina said.

Katie nodded. “Me too.”

“We can make a party out of it,” Rebecca agreed.

Katie leaned forward. “Hey, Becca, make him show it to us.”

“Show what?”

“His little dicky.”

“What for? It’s not like you ain’t seen it before.”

“I know, but I want to show you how the piercing works.”

My princess shrugged. “Pull down your panties, Chrissie.”

Red-faced, I obeyed, and the girls hooted.

“OMG, I forgot how small it was.” Gina tilted her head and squinted at my crotch. “Damn, Becca, how did you put up with it when you dated this shrimp-dick?”

“Be nice now,” Rebecca chided, and my spirits soared because for a brief moment she’d stood up for me.

“Come over here, Chrissie.” Katie pointed to a spot in front of her. After I complied, she crinkled up her nose and lifted my penis with her thumb and forefinger as if she were holding the tail of a dead mouse.

“So, he gets pierced with a hoop right under the head, here.” She pointed with her other hand. “Then, when the device goes on, it attaches right to it. Voila!”

Gina poked Rebecca in the ribs and guffawed. “All of a sudden, she’s a cock cage expert.”

“No, my sister showed me pictures, asshole,” Katie shot back. “Look it up if you don’t believe me.”

I was left to stand there with my panties around my ankles while the three ladies giggled over cellphone pictures of pierced cocks attached to cages. Rebecca lit up when she saw a chastity device that struck her fancy.

“That looks like a real good one,” she said.

Katie giggled. “It’s got spikes, so if he does get a little boner, it’ll hurt.”

“Order that one, Chrissie,” Rebecca said. “And then make an appointment for your piercing; find somewhere with good reviews, not one of them sleazebag places. Go ahead and tell them you’re my slave, and that you want the piercing to attach to a cock cage. And tell them you got three friends who want to come, too.”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

“There’s my baba.” Rebecca pointed to her empty glass. I started to refill it but the bottle was empty.

“You guys want to open another one?” my mistress asked her friends.

Katie shrugged. “Yeah, fuck it, why not?”

Rebecca snapped her fingers. “You heard the lady. Another bottle, Chrissie.”

“Yes, Miss, right away, Miss.”

As I was in the kitchen fumbling with the corkscrew, I heard Gina giggle.

“So, then, Becca, about Bryce — when are you finally gonna pass that big-dicked motherfucker my way?”

The girls all laughed as I uncorked their third bottle of Chardonnay.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//

Crying tears of joy and pain, I licked my way through heaven while the devil’s pitchfork poked my pee-pee.

Rebecca chuckled when I yelped for the fourth time.

“Aw, baba, your mascara’s running. Them spikes must really hurt, huh?”

I nodded and resumed the glorious task of worshiping her divine vagina — and paying the price.

“Ooow-hoooww.”

She chortled again. “Poor Chrissie. I know it hurts, but deal with it, okay? Ever since you got locked, you’ve been a perfect little doll. No more pouting, no moping around. I tell you to do something, you run. I mean, you always were a good slave, but I like the new you — so don’t plan on getting out of that cage any time soon, understand?”

I nodded again, and she patted my wigged head. “There’s my lil’ baba. Mmmm, move your tongue down … yeah, right there. Ooh, that’s nice.”

“Owww-howwww!”

“Hee-hee, poor Chrissie. Now, shhhhh. I been wanting to see this movie; try to be quiet, okay?”

My mistress pulled the covers over my head and kept me at it for nearly two hours while she sipped Diet Cokes, snacked on Cheetos and watched her romcom. That left plenty of time for me to focus my mind elsewhere while I licked in an attempt to keep my dick from growing. But no matter how hard I tried to think of baseball, I kept harkening back to the degrading events that had led to my penis being pierced and locked up in a hellish prison. Recalling that humiliation only made me hornier, causing more pain, which I had to endure in silence so I wouldn’t disturb my angel’s chick flick.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//

After Rebecca’s drunken friends had concocted the scheme to have me pierced and caged, I ordered the device my angel had picked out, paying extra for overnight delivery. I also found a nearby tattoo and piercing shop with a 98% review rating online, and made an appointment to get what I learned was called a “reverse Prince Albert piercing.” The woman on the phone had no problem with my request to bring three friends to the procedure.

I was embarrassed explaining my situation to a stranger on the phone, but Rebecca had ordered me to inform the staff because she had questions about how the piercing would interact with my chastity device. The shop proprietor, Wren, said they had several customers who were into the BDSM lifestyle and that it was no big deal. She could probably tell I was nervous and seemed eager to calm me. It didn’t really work, but it was nice of her to try.

The chastity device arrived in the mail the following day. It was a well-made Kevlar contraption with dozens of tiny, menacing-looking needles, which piqued Rebecca’s interest — and scared the shit out of me.

“OMG, those look like they’d really hurt. Here, put it on, Chrissie.” She passed me the XLR-Z Trap, the best chastity device money could buy.

With shaky hands, I lifted my dress, dropped my panties, and fumbled around down there. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Rebecca huffed.

“Oh, jeez, come here, Chrissie, let me do it.”

I stepped over to my impatient little mistress and she clinically stuffed my penis into the cage and fastened it. With a smirk, she snapped the lock shut and showed me the key.

“I know you’re not pierced yet, Chrissie, but there’s no reason you can’t start wearing this now. You won’t try to wiggle your little dicky out of that thing without the piercing, now, will you?”

“Uh, um, no, Miss, I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Miss.”

Inside, I wanted to cry. I’d thought she was going to wait until after I was pierced to lock me up, and had hoped to sneak in as many jerkoffs as possible before the scheduled appointment three days later. But as I watched her twist the key to my device onto her keyring, I knew that plan was out the window.

She tapped the cage with her forefinger. “Is it tight, Chrissie?”

“Um, kind of.”

“Let’s see if it works.” My angel’s eyes danced. I knew that look and steeled myself.

She hummed a stripper’s tune as she shimmied out of her sweats and panties, exposing her sacred vagina. “Look, baba.” She slapped her pussy three times. “Don’t you wish you could fuck me like a man, instead of being a little sissy slave?”

“Owwww!!!” She knew exactly which of my submissive buttons to push, and as soon as my dick began to swell just a tiny bit, the needles inflicted excruciating pain.

Rebecca giggled. “Aw, poor Chrissie. If you think that hurts, watch this.”

She stepped forward, pushed my head down until I was on my knees and started rubbing her bare pussy all over my face.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhieeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

My angel laughed harder. “I’m sorry, Chrissie, I know it’s mean, but I just love making you cry. Do you hate me, baba?”

“Ow, no, Miss, of course not — owwww, please, nooooooooo, owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, noooooo!”

“No? Does that mean you don’t like kissing my pussy, baba? I’m insulted.”

“No, it’s just … owwwwwwwhhhhwoooo … I wouldn’t … ow, no, I love … I love … kissing …. owww-hoowwwww!”

She pushed my head back and sneered down at me. “Well, Chrissie, I guess we know it works, now, huh?”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

She flopped onto the couch. “That was fun. Go get me a Diet Coke.”

When I limped back with my mistress’s soda, clearly still in pain, she pouted. “Aw, poor Chrissie, I’m so mean to you, ain’t I?”

“Um, uh, it’s okay, Miss.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “You’re so sweet, I swear. You put up with so much. But I love having a slave. I love it. I always want to have you. My little baba.”

My chest swelled beneath my apron, and the hurt beneath my panties vanished. “Oh, oh, thank you, Miss. Thank you so much. I always want to serve you, Miss. I, I love you so much.”

“I know, baba.” She held out her hand, and I kissed it. “There’s my little doll. Now, I’m starting to get hungry; why don’t you go ahead and get dinner ready?”

“Yes, Miss, right away, Miss. T-thank you, Miss.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie. You might want to fix your makeup first; I think I smeared it a little.” She giggled. “Sorry ‘bout that, Chrissie. I guess I got carried away. I can’t help it — you’re so much fun to tease.”

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\//

I sat in the backseat listening to the three women up front giggling and having a ball. The Sissy Slave Dick-Piercing Show was about to begin.

The Den was a scary-looking place, with the entire facility done up in black, leather and chrome while death metal blasted through the speakers — although it lived up to the reviews extolling its cleanliness because there wasn’t a dust bunny in the joint.

Wren and Razz, the owners, were even scarier-looking, with piercings and tattoos covering their entire bodies, including their faces.

Rebecca did all the talking. “I’ve got him in a cage,” she said, grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me forward toward the freaky couple. “Chrissie, drop your sweats and show them.”

I was mortified as I wiggled down my sweatpants.

Katie snorted. “I’m not sure it’s even big enough to pierce.”

Razz leered. “Oh, no, we’ve had slaves in here with a lot smaller than that.” He chuckled. “Well, maybe not a lot smaller — this is pretty damn small.”

Gina asked Wren: “Is it gonna hurt him?”

“We use anesthetic, but, yeah, when it wears off, he’s gonna be in some major pain.” Wren smiled at me. “You gonna take the pain for your mistress and her friends, sweetie?”

“Y-yes, Ma’am.”

“Okay, then, get up here on the table.”

Razz nodded at my half-off sweatpants. “You gotta take those off first.”

I couldn’t stop trembling as Razz donned rubber gloves and began wiping my crotch with an alcohol swab. Gina and Katie both filmed my ordeal with their cellphones while my angel watched Wren rub my dickhead with numbing cream.

After waiting a few minutes to allow the cream to take effect, Razz picked up the piercing needle. I almost puked.

“I advise you don’t look,” he said.

I scanned the room for my mistress. We locked eyes, and she beamed.

“You scared, baba?”

“Y-yes, Miss.”

“Aww, don’t be. This is for me, remember?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Then you should be happy, right?”

“Yes, Miss. Uh … I am.”

Gina bared her teeth. “If you’re really happy, you need to tell everyone. Say, ‘I’m so happy I’m getting my little dick pierced.’ Say it.”

Swallowing the softball in my throat, I complied. “I, uh, I’m so happy I’m getting, uh, my little dick pierced. T-thank you.”

I was the opposite of thankful a second later when the needle hit home. My screams were accompanied by snickers, although Rebecca didn’t laugh; instead, she stared at me with a strange glint in her eye, as if drinking in her power, knowing I’d just allowed myself to be mutilated for her.

When it was over, with the ring permanently attached through my penis head, Rebecca walked over to me and kissed me on the forehead.

“Thank you, baba. This means so much.”

“T-thank you, Miss.”

Katie scoffed. “Boy, what a wimp — he gets a needle stuck through his little dick and a hoop through it, and he thanks you. Fucking pathetic.”

“Aw, come on, be nice,” Rebecca said, and her words of kindness sent me over the top. I lay on the piercing table with tears streaming down my cheeks; luckily, my mistress hadn’t required me to wear makeup to the tattoo shop, or my mascara would’ve run all over the place.