No--he is all mine...

It has been a very long day--time for a treat you both can enjoy. You lead your little pet to the bedroom. Some wrap bandages are perfect to tie his arms and legs to the bed securely but not painfully.

Making sure he can see, you slowly strip naked before you climb on the bed. His cock is at fully attention as he sees you completely nude for the first time.

You straddle his head, with your bottom over his eyes and your clit ready to brush his lips. As a precaution, you lightly flick his erection with the riding crop you hid on the bed earlier: you don't want his excitement to ruin your fun.

You carefully move your body up and down his face. Once or twice you position yourself such that his breathing is obstructed for just a moment. The immediate tension in his bound body serves to remind both of you who is in control of the situation.

You let him go to work with his tongue, relaxing and enjoying his obvious devotion. In no hurry, you occasionally repeat your flick to his balls to keep his arousal in check.

When you finally feel ready, you slide off his face, dragging your naked body across his. His arousal returns.

Turning, you again straddle his body and gently lower yourself onto him, moaning slightly.

You begin to slowly ride him up and down, with pauses to grab and twist his nipples, for no better reason than that they are there.

You increase your rhythm. You can tell that his climax is approaching, though he is trying his utmost to hold back. Fortunately, the earlier tongue session has brought to the edge as well. As you relax and allow yourself to climax, you say to him,

"You have my permission to cum, my pet."

He shudders snd relaxes.

Not perfect but showing potential.

Climbing off, you leave him tied for a few more moments as you clean up and slip on some pajamas. You then release him and offer the guest bed for the night.

Working from this start, your training program begins. Some treatments to increase his cock's size are arranged in a slightly shady local clinic. More important is his new nightly suggestion loop. You have moved him permanently to the guest room, though now it is furnished more like a monk's cell: no closet or clothes, a very plain bed and, for decoration, a large, retouched photo of you. In this rather austere environment, he goes to sleep each night to your voice, whispering to him how a perfect pet should behave.

During the day, chores and exercise mold his body into a thin, muscular shape: you enclose the pool area and allow him one hour a day of nude reading while he tans.

In six months, the changes are mostly done. Other than an occasional doctor's appointment, he has had no clothes on for months. He wears his collar proudly and always greets you kneeling by the door when you arrive home.

In the bedroom, his suggestibility is absolute

"Pet, worship!"

As soon as the words leave your lips, he becomes aroused. In fact, he cannot become aroused otherwise: you spent an amusing evening ordering him to play with himself and watching his frustration at being unable to.

But if you order it, he can stay erect for a remarkable length of time, licking, massaging, or letting you have your way with him. Only when you add "Pet, honor me," is he able to achieve an organism, a pleasure you allow him once or twice a week. Immediately after this present from you, he knows he is to go kneel in his cell, listening to your voice tell him how lucky he is to serve you.

And he believes it: every morning, he brings you you tea and kneels by the bed until you deign to place your foot by his lips. He then kisses it and thanks you for making him the perfect pet for his perfect mistress.