On most days, Charlie was lucky to match with a bot offering a paid cam service. Today, however, as he stood at the front door of a luxurious house in a gated community, he wondered if luck was finally on his side.

He checked the address against his phone for the fifteenth time. Tinder catfishing could be such a bitch. But, it matched. With a heavy sigh, he rang the doorbell.

The seconds passed by like years before the door opened. A young man built like a truck stood in the doorway, staring at Charlie expectantly.

“Fuck,” Charlie muttered beneath his breath. Fucking catfish.

“Can I help you?” His voice reverberated against the walls. Like the bastard had a megaphone slammed down his throat.

“I’m looking for Natalie,” he replied, finding a sudden interest in the welcome mat.

“Ah. You must be Charlie.” He opened the door wider. “C’mon in.”

This better not be ‘Natalie.’ Despite his reservations, he stepped through the threshold.

The walls were covered in expensive-looking art and décor. She’d told him not to be surprised when he saw her house. Yeah, right.

Not that he got to see much of it, anyway.

The man-truck took a sharp turn into a room that split off from the entryway. Before Charlie could react, there was a vice grip at the back of his neck, forcing him to his hands and knees.

“Charlie. You came,” a sultry voice like velvet purred, stroking every nerve.

Long fingers lifted his chin to meet the brilliant, familiar eyes he’d found so captivating in her photos.

“Natalie,” he breathed.

Natalie’s soft touch turned to a stringent slap across the face. Her nails left long, red lines along his cheek.

“That’s Mistress. Do you understand?” Her words danced along the edge of a blade.

“I—“ He’d begun to reply when she struck him again. Black spots flew around the room. The pain sent shivers down his spine.

“You are no longer a person, pet. You are my toy. Now, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“There’s a good boy.” She leaned in, encircling his throat with a cold chain. “Behave well, and I’ll reward you. Poorly and...” she looked upward at his captor. “You’ll be serving Jacob.”

“Yes, Mistress.” She’d barely touched him, and his body already shook with need. His desire was palpable, and Natalie’s smile said she knew it.

When she stepped away, Charlie finally had a full view of his stunning Mistress. A black corset, garter belt, and fishnet stockings offset her ivory skin. Her fiery hair was tied back to reveal her lovely face.

She held fast to the chain leash. The more distance she placed between them, the tighter it gripped his throat. His breathing came in rasps.

“Strip him,” she commanded. “Let’s see what we have to work with.”

Jacob replied without hesitation, beginning by tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

“Wait—“ Charlie realized he’d made a mistake as soon as the word left his mouth.

The corners of Natalie’s full lips deepened into a frown. She pulled hard on the chain, cutting Charlie’s air supply in its entirety.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in.” She approached, reeling in the tension inch by painstaking inch. Charlie felt the metal bite deep into his skin. “I control the very air you breathe. If you want to act like a little bitch, then I’ll treat you like a little bitch.”

Charlie shook his head, his frantic thrashes for air were silent and futile. Darkness threatened the edges of his vision.

Natalie watched in amusement while he battled between the fear of choking to death and keeping his hands still. It was a display of sheer willpower. He so badly wanted to claw at the chain, to tear it away from his neck to allow the air to return to his lungs. And, for a few terrifying moments, he was convinced he’d die in that collar.

At last, she gave the chain some slack, and he gasped, choking on the sudden oxygen. There wasn’t time to recover—she nodded at Jacob, and the shredded fabric of Charlie’s shirt soon came free. Mistress ran her fingers along his spine as her manservant unhooked Charlie’s belt with frightening dexterity, then freed him of his pants. He could feel the color raise to his cheeks and the blood rushing to his cock with the humiliation of vulnerability.

“My pet is embarrassed?” Natalie crooned.

“Yes, Mistress.” His reply was barely above a whisper.

“My pet loves being embarrassed,” she noted. 

Mistress yanked the chain upward, forcing Charlie to sit back on his haunches; like a dog. Jacob snatched his arms and pinned them behind his back. Her hand wrapped around his shaft before he knew what was happening. He was staring at the ceiling, completely immobilized, a slave to her touch. Animalistic groans escaped his lips while she worked him with furious strokes of her expert fingers.

The sudden switch from pain to pleasure caused him whiplash. His cock throbbed with need, his erection so stiff that it hurt. His face stung from her strikes, his throat pulsed from the collar.

“M-Mistress, that’ll make me cum,” he hardly recognized his own pleas. His voice was small and hoarse like the chain had crushed his lungs alongside his throat. 

“Already? What an eager pet you are.” 

She didn’t stop. Her fingertips teased the rigid underside of his shaft, curling over the sensitive head in a mixture of sensations that masked all thoughts but pleasing his Mistress.

“Can I cum? Please?” he begged.

“Yes. But you’re not finished, pet.”

Charlie’s orgasm wracked his entire body, and he struggled against Jacob’s grip. Natalie forced out every drop. She cradled his face in one hand—her thumb on his cheek—letting loose on the chain.

“Look at me,” she commanded.

Charlie fought to meet her steady gaze as waves of pleasure continued to roll over him. He couldn’t remember having one orgasm last for so long. The depravity in her eyes made his heart skip.

“T-thank you, Mistress,” he stammered, maintaining eye contact as best he could.

“Very good. Now you’ll clean up the mess you’ve made, won’t you?” She penetrated Charlie’s lips with two cum-soaked fingers, sliding against his tongue and riding the warmth until they nearly reached the back of his throat. “If you wish to please me, you will suck them dry.”

The taste was sudden and sharp. Her fingers were so deep that he had to work not to gag. 

Pleasing her was all that mattered. He did as she asked.

With rhythmic laps of his tongue, he cleaned away the evidence of his pleasure. A steady flow of semen slid down his throat in one thick stream. Without warning, she added a third finger. Then a fourth. For one split-second, his body instinctively resisted, but she was ready for it. Her hand left his face to yank hard on the chain, limiting his breathing once more. He gagged, and she laughed.

“Don’t you dare stop.” She twisted her fingers and slid them back to brush against his tonsils.

He would rather be dead than disobey her.

With every inhale, more sharp, viscous liquid oozed past his tongue. As if the mere act of breathing was tied to the consumption of semen.

“You’re a hopeless little cum-dumpster, aren’t you?” Natalie laughed. “I wonder how much more you could take?”

She pulled her fingers from his mouth in a smooth, slow draw, allowing them to linger on his tongue for a moment. Her piercing eyes drifted to Jacob, and a wicked smile split her lips.

“Why don’t we find out?” she mused.

With the young man’s help, they maneuvered Charlie to face him. The friction of the carpet against his knees burned alongside his myriad other wounds. He was eye-to-eye with the fly of Jacob’s jeans. 

A cold sweat broke over his skin as he realized what she wanted.

Natalie guided Charlie’s arms behind him, then tightly wrapped the length of the leash around his wrists. He tested the bonds with a small tug, finding that the more he fought against it, the tighter it became around his throat.

Mistress straddled his legs and set her chin against Charlie’s shoulder, then whispered into his ear: “Those pants aren’t going to unbutton themselves.”

With clumsy movements, Charlie snagged the small square of denim in his teeth. He could feel his hands shake. Was he really doing this? 

She mapped his biceps with her fingernails. “Ever sucked a dick, pet?”

“No, Mistress.”

“You’ll do it now, won’t you, my little bitch?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Once he’d loosened the zipper on the jeans, Jacob pulled free his throbbing erection. Charlie wasn’t surprised by the size of his cock; but he sure as hell didn’t think he could fit it all into his mouth.

Natalie sensed his hesitation and urged his head forward. Jacob’s hand joined hers on the back of Charlie’s head as his lips enveloped Jacob’s shaft.

“You’ll take it all, bitch.” Mistress’ words were hot against his ear.

The collar tightened and in tandem, they forced every inch of rock-hard penis down Charlie’s throat. There was that sensation again—that the rules for breathing were being rewritten.

Jacob nor Natalie was the type to start things off “slow.” Jacob’s hips ground against Charlie’s mouth in a rhythm that choked him. Tears threatened his eyes from the inability to catch his breath. He struggled against the chain around his wrists and lost more air for it. Natalie’s delicate touch turned to claws in his skin as he held him fast. The moans in Jacob’s throat intensified. Charlie found himself caught between the satisfaction of pleasing his Mistress and the horror of pleasing another man.

“I’m gonna cum.” Jacob’s short warning twisted Charlie’s stomach.

“Drink him in. Don’t spill a drop,” came the command in Charlie’s ear.

White-hot semen shot down his throat, coating the entirety of his tongue. His eyes slammed shut while he fervently swallowed Jacob’s orgasm.

“That’s a good pet.”

It seemed never-ending. His hands writhed, and he choked on both the chain and semen.

“You’ll learn to love it,” she said.

He shivered at the thought.

“You’ll learn to love a lot of new things.”

Something covered his eyes. His world went black.