The three mistakes that solidified my permanent place as fucktoy pet with no escape, just like I’ve always wanted. Ch 01. The operating room. [F21/M27] [CNC][Extreme] [Permanent] [Pet] [Slave] [Chastity] [Limitless]

I follow my Mistress into the operating room on all fours. My dick locked in a cold, tiny, titanium cage, welded shut. My fake tits swaying left and right for her amusement, my nipples dragging across the cold hard floor. She pulls me along on a leash like a dog, but I don't struggle. Instead I follow her eagerly to show her my obedience. I know what she will take away from me here and why, but I have finally embraced my fate.

I am not unfamiliar with the operating room. Mistress had wasted no time, installing it in her house mere days after I granted her complete control over my mind, body, and soul. To modify me however and whenever she wanted, the threat of immediate, permanent punishment always looming over me. That was a couple of years ago now.

2 years, 4 months, and 19 days ago to be exact.

At that point I was already owned by Mistress for exactly a year, living with her full-time and tending to her every whim. She owned me, and I had never been her equal, our relationship being about power from the get go.

But we had the standard safety measures in play. Limits, a safeword (ours was baby penguin, which made both of us chuckle and pulled us back into normality), and a healthy amount of time set aside for me to take a break and relax. She was always respectful and never crossed a boundary.

A good, safe, comfortable relationship. But I noticed she wanted more. She wanted to cross those boundaries so badly. Charge through them like an invading army coming to claim what they already considered theirs. I wanted nothing more than to make her happy, and deep down I knew I hungered for the same.

I needed to be owned completely, to be used and abused. I had an urge to be forced to do things without having a way out. Without limits, and with no escape. To feel actual regret, panic, and desperation. I would always end up using our safeword when I truly didn’t want to do something, and most fantasies stayed nothing more than just that. Fantasies. Forever out of reach.

Sarah was the person I wanted to submit to, I knew that from the start. She didn’t take much convincing, her unmet sadistic needs hardly a secret. We talked about this before, but untill then it was nothing more than a fantasy. We decided that it would be best to wait untill we were in this longer. If we both still wanted to after a year, we would take the plunge.

What Sarah didn’t tell me was how much sadism she was actually hiding. I might never have submitted to her, scared of what she would, and ultimately did, do to me. But I am glad I didn’t know. Otherwise I would never be in this situation.

Otherwise I would never have experienced the ultimate submission. Crying for mercy, begging for relief as she so harshly denied and tortured me for her own pleasure. Regretting my decision. The inescapable regret being exactly what I secretly always wanted.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

Our one year aniversary came, and there was no hesitation from either of us. We had a short talk to go over the details once more, but it was more of a formality at this point. Neither of us wanted to change anything about the plans we had already discussed so much. The agreement was short, simple, and concise, but unwavering and merciless in its contents.

I kneeled down on the floor, facing away from her. I crossed my arms behind my back and spread my legs as wide as I could to display my cage. She trained me well. A devilish grin began to dance on her face, but I was none the wiser.

She had taken the big, heavy, black leather collar that had become a part of me over the last year. My neck had felt naked without it, but she insisted on one more collaring ceremony. She had told me it was to solidify her ownership and make it official, and I paid it no further mind.

A new collar lowered down in front of me, made of thick, heavy steel. It featured a big ring on the front. I recognised it immediately. The ultimate collar. Swedish I think. There was definitely no getting out of this one without the key. My body shivered with anticipation.

My neck pushed into the collar eagerly as she wrapped it around my neck. Slowly, gently, but without hesitation. It seemed she had custom-made it to my size, as there wasn’t the slightest bit of air inbetween. It was heavy, uncomfortable, and incredibly cold. It would take some getting used to, but with the breaks that Mistress gave me I was sure it would be ok.

She closed the lock with a soft snap, and that was it. It felt like coming home.

“Stay still puppy”, she commanded.

I obeyed, slightly confused. I thought this was it?

She flicked a switch and an unfamiliar sound came from behind me. Was she going to shock me? No, I would recognise that hum immediately. This was new.

I felt the slight pressure of her hand bracing against my neck before I could even think to question my Mistress. A whining sound filled my ears for a few moments and I heard some sparks.

Holy shit. She welded it shut.

“What was that Mistress...?” I asked in a slight panic, knowing full well what she did.

“Do you need me to say it pet?” she asked, an unfamiliar annoyance in her voice.

“Yes Mistress, please...” I answered sheepishly.

“I welded your collar shut pet. You belong to me now. Forever. The only way to get it off would be cutting it, and there is no way of getting through an inch of steel without any clearance underneath.”

Fuck. My mind started panicking, racing with possibilities. Maybe if we put something underneath? Maybe with a cast saw? Maybe if we cou-

“I called some steel smiths” she interrupted, hearing the gears in my head spring to life. “I checked. Noone would take the job. It is time for you to stop thinking now pet.”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“You may thank me now.”

Jesus Christ, she was wasting no time. I started to feel a new form of regret. Was this what I was looking for?

“Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress...” I let out quietly, precum now slowly dripping to the floor as my dick strained in its cage.

There was no way out anymore. My Mind, Body, and Soul now belonging to her completely. I gave her absolute and unrelenting power over me, and she had uses it immediately and without skipping a beat. She had made sure that no hesitation from either side could get in the way now. Not that she had ever had any.

I was terrified, but it felt right. Two puzzle pieces finally falling into place, right where they belong.

A sadistic Domme and her obedient pet.

It all spiralled down the rabbit hole from there rather quickly.

I had given up my safeword, my limits, and my boundaries. I had acknowledged that from that day on, she could ignore all of my wants, needs, and desires. Ignore my begging and pleading. My crying, sobbing, and wailing. Everything to be the best Fucktoy I could be. I had promised her that I would do anything she wanted, whenever she wanted, without disobeying orders.

She gladly took all of it, and she swore to me that if I moved out of line the consequences would be extreme and merciless. I hadn’t felt the weight of those words untill they sat around my neck, welded shut.

Fuck, I really hope she wouldn’t do the same to my cage. L I still hadn’t truly regretted any of it, knowing full well that this was what I wanted all along, although I came close a couple of times. Luckily, just like my opinion, that didn't matter anymore. When Mistress would ask me a question the only viable responses were “Yes Mistress", “Ofcourse Mistress”, and “Gladly Mistress.” Sometimes I would not agree at all. Sometimes I would hate what she did to me. But that no longer mattered.

Like that time she took away my name. She replaced it with “Cum Dumpster”, because it seemed more fitting than a human name. I was no longer considered human after all. She asked me if I liked my new name. “Yes Mistress, I love my new name!” I let out softly. My body betraying me as tears started slowly crawling down my face to meet the ground. She knew full well that I didn't like it. That I hated the sound of that name. But she often loved it more when my agreeable words did not match my own thoughts and actions. And I could not agree more. Something about obeying her so blindly when I didn't actually want to showed her how true my devotion was.

This is exactly the situation I always wanted to be in. A situation I could not escape, where my own thoughts and opinions didn't matter. Even though I hated it in the moment, my tiny locked up dicklet betrayed my true feelings. It loved every second, as it was straining in it's cage. A slow, steady stream of precum leaving the tip, almost as if it was crying with me.

“Good! you are incredibly good at guzzling up my cum after all. It does feel so good to drown yourself in my pleasure doesn't it?” she said with an evil, sly grin. Knowing full well that it always brought me to the edge immediately. Her pleasure feeling like mine in the absence of my own. “Yes Mistress. I love it when you use me for your own pleasure. I am ready to drown in your cum for your pleasure whenever you wish.” I had said, and I meant every word.

Over the years Mistress had modified my body in numerous ways. This power is also something I gave to her willingly, although if it wasn't explicitly said it would still fall under the category of complete control over me. Just like everything else would. I was nothing but a Fucktoy to play with as she pleased. Reduced to an object to modify, use, and abuse however she wished. To ignore or even store away when not needed or wanted.

One of these modifications were my giant breasts. Something I had always wanted but was too scared to get myself. I had objected to them out of principle, but I wanted them so, so badly. Mistress had ignored my cries as per usual, and didn't even bother justifying my pleading and begging with an answer. All she did was strap me to the table, put me under, and that was that.

I woke up with enormous tits so big that they obscured the view of my cage. I was not able to see what was left of my tiny dicklet anymore except in a mirror, but Mistress would obviously not grant me that pleasure.

She loved it when I forgot about what used to be my dick. In fact, a part of the reason why I got these boobs was because she thought I was still too focused on it. Still bucking my hips and humping involuntarily when I got horny. She told me to forget about it, and she had so graciously helped me do it.

When I was left to my own devices I couldn't help but play with my new tits. They were so sensitive to every touch and squeeze. I carressed them and played with my nipples, an entirely new world of pleasure opening up to me.

I sat on the stiff bed in my cell, my personal storage when I was not in use, and leaned back against the wall. I knew I was not allowed to play with myself, my locked dick reminding me every single waking moment. But surely this was different, surely there was no harm done in giving my big tits a couple more squeezes...

This was the mistake that led us to today.