The afternoon was giving way to the early evening as I was walking through downtown, just looking for a cafe to sit down for a moment longer. The blue sky and warm air heightened the mood, and an occasional breeze ruffled my fur.
I found a suitable place by the water and set myself down on a chair, looking over the lapping waves. After just a few moments, with my legs a little spread, I could feel a movement under the table.
Quick hands expertly unzipped my trousers, and a curious snout started to sniff around my crotch, enjoying my musk from walking around all day long. The cold nose touched my package, and my member would grow quickly out for the attention.
I didn’t need to check under the table, of course. This kind of service was now all but expected in cafes and restaurants, to the point that any place without it would barely be viable as a business.
Under the table would kneel a female slave, usually blindfolded and her collar chained to the furniture. She’d be at her assigned place during the business hours to service any customer with her mouth and sometimes hands. Of course, once the customer is seated, this makes him less likely to just up and leave, and perhaps stay longer for yet another drink.
I could feel her lips envelop the tip of my cock as the service arrived. While slaves under the tables and in the restrooms are expected by now, only sometimes you also get them serve the food.
The waitress for me however was apparently also an owned female, a rather short stacked otter girl. She was wearing the tell-tale collar, and nothing much else but a pair of shorts with all the things a waitress needs. There was a registration number perma-died into the fur of her bare chest. She pulled out her note block with a smile. “Good day, sir, nice to see you. What can I get you?” Her large chest bounced freely under my gaze.
I could feel the lips go down on my hard member, the head bobbing up and down while the tongue lapped over my tip. “Hmmm… I’ll have green tea and perhaps one of the cakes.”
“The cheesecake is good, sir.”
“Yes, sounds good,” I said as I relaxed, shifting my posture a bit to shove more of my cock into the slaves mouth.
“Right away, sir, thank you for allowing me to help you!”
Enjoying the attention of an expert set of lips and tongue on my cock, I mused a little about how quickly culture can change. Less than a decade after the legislation change, and it appeared that the majority of young women opted to get registered as property. Or have been put under male ownership due to crime or debt.
I had to stifle a moan as my tea arrived. The muzzle went up and down my length, moving expertly, sometimes slower, sometimes faster. No complaints about the slave’s deep-throating training either. “Enjoy, sir.”
While the slave under the table showed off her skills, I enjoyed the sounds of the city by the water. From time to time, a small boat would pass by. A quiet evening. The cake was very good, just as promised.
As usual, the oral slave’s job was not to get me off as quickly as possible. Instead she just kept me enjoying the attention without getting me all too close. After all, a customer quickly satisfied might leave right away.
I watched the waitress bumble around, smiling at the patrons, showing off her nice set of breasts. I was generally wondering if she was jealous of the other girls under the tables. The one working on my penis was doing so with every sign of enjoyment.
With the collar chained to the table, the slave under the table-cloth was most likely wearing a leather hood over her head to block sight and muffle sound, leaving only the muzzle free. She doesn’t need distractions. Probably also wearing a chastity belt, to prevent her dripping on the floor, or try to do more than she had been installed to do.
After a while longer, I reached down under the table. I found the leather hood, and pet her a little before I pushed her head down hard into my cock until her nose hit my pubes. I kept her held into position a moment before I let go.
“Hm, eager little slut,” I mumbled as I noticed she was getting off my member right away, showing off how deeply she can take me down her throat.
Of course, they generally understand this was a signal that I was ready to go. I could feel her speed up her efforts, my member now going all the length through her muzzle and throat in a steady, fast rhythm.
After a moan from me, she moved up to give her attention to my tip. Her expert tongue hit my most sensitive spots while her paws kept the length stimulated. As her lips wrapped once more around my cock, I grunted and unleashed my load right into her mouth.
She swallowed up the loads as I shot them, licking up every drop that would come after, even suckling a bit to eagerly get every little remnant of my semen. She gave my cock a little loving kiss before stuffing my package back into my trousers. I noticed her sadness about having to let a customer go.
So I pulled out my phone to pay up - owned females are not legally allowed to handle money, so it was automated here. Tips were also not allowed. But a good review of the servicing girls is always welcome.
I waved to the otter as I left, picking up my bags, to head back home. She waved back and I walked down by the water to get a tram home. Ever since the legislation change, I like to think so many of the pent-up anger of the men all around me got quieter. Enjoying a day out became ever so stress free.
As I opened the door to the little house wedged between dozens of similar ones on the street, my own property stood to attention to greet me. I had acquired a slave a few years ago, by signing her into ownership. A good deal, basically free, though there’s quite a bit of paperwork involved. These days, an agency helps with that.
So my rabbit girl was waiting for her owner right in the entrance way, eager to take my bags off me. The perma-died registration number was visible against the white fur, right above her crotch. Ever since the day she joined me, I made sure she wouldn’t be wearing a shred of clothing.
“Welcome home, sir, I hope you had a nice day out.”
My hand wandered over her form and I gave one of her small tits a squeeze, then moved the hand down to between her legs, feeling her package. Of course, the option to become property is also open to any trans woman, once their own gender change was registered. So much bureaucracy.
And ever since the first day, I had her little cock-clitty locked up in a bright pink cage. The only few times I had ever unlocked her, it was only to switch to a smaller one.
Speaking of which…
“I got you a little something, slave,” I said and gently stroked over her cheek. I pointed to the bag, and waited for her to pull out a box. Another pink cage, this time completely flat. “This should be the last for you to wear, finally locking your clitty away for good.” I squeezed her package again. “We’ll put it on later tonight. It doesn’t have a lock and key… once it’s on, that’s it.”
There was just a slight moment of hesitation from my property, before the bunny gave me a wide smile. “Thank you, sir! So excited to finally get locked up for good.”
I nodded and scritched under her chin. “I also got you another collar,” I mused.
“Aw, sir, I already got so many,” she giggles.
“Yes, I know, I can’t help myself.” It’s the only item to dress her up with. She’s not allowed to undo it on her own, so I have to swap it out when I get bored of the other.
I walked into the living room, undoing the shirt and pants, just dropping them anywhere. The bunny immediately got busy tidying everything away. Before I was even sat down on the couch, she was there to serve a beer and some snacks.
As always, unless she has something else to do, she would stand to attention just a little outside my view, but I wouldn’t let her this time. I pulled her ears, and she gave a pained gasp. “Down.”
With a nod, she obediently got on all fours. Another standard position, kneeling with her chest on the floor and the arse up, showing off her assets. Her tailhole was obscured by the sparkly butt plug she was to wear at all times.
I pushed on the plug’s base and wiggled it around, getting a moan from her. After a moment longer, I decided to pull on it playfully. “Oh my, the really big one today… perhaps I should get another size up for you, then?”
There was another moan and gasp as the plug pulled on the tail hole. “P-please, sir, I need a bigger one,” she huffed while her tail hole opened enough to let the plug go.
I started stroking my member to get it nice and hard. Never an issue with such a cute butt right in front of me. There was just a little bit of slickness left from my earlier encounter - but I know my slave was not one to complain, however I decided to use her.
She groaned but held her position as my member slid into her butt. All the way in is not a problem for such a well-trained slut. Her fists clenched up as I started to pull out and thrust back in.
While rolling my hips in a nice, steady rhythm, I pick up the remote to put on some nice porn on the telly. Sometimes it was nice to watch some other people fuck while using my own cock sleeve.
The kneeling rabbit girl was moaning and groaning with every thrust. Even after all of these years of constant use, she was still so very sensitive and eager to be used. It might also help that between the chastity, a strict masturbation ban and barely an orgasm permitted, I keep my property nicely pent up.
As I sipped my beer, I could hear her moans growing more loudly. “S-sir?”
“Hm, yes, slut?”
“G-getting… close. P-permission to cum, sir? Please, sir?”
I smiled at the pleading voice, putting both my hands on her hips to thrust just a little bit harder. “Hm, I don’t think so.”
“P-please, sir, it’s been three weeks…”
I reach out to pull one of the long ears, giving her a displeased grunt. “And I don’t want to hear you even ask for another.”
Satisfied with the needy whimper I get as a response, I add a few more thrusts into the deep tail hole before pulling out. With a grunt of relief, I spurt my semen all over her bottom and the little stubby tail, painting her nicely.
I wipe my cock on her back fur and slump back on the couch. The little rabbit slave keeps her position for a moment, panting and whimpering. I know that her tiny clitty-cock has been locked up for so long she can’t even get it hard any more, but she put a hand over the cage anyway.
I prodded her bottom gently with a foot. “Now, none of that. Your owner decides when you may cum.”
Another repressed whimper, as she moved her ass back onto the floor, the big plug once again sinking into the tail hole. Her tail twitched excitedly as only the sparkly bottom was visible once again. “Of course, sir. Thank you for reminding me.”
I shrugged and sipped my beer. “Get yourself presentable for the cage exchange later.”
Without another word, the rabbit slave got up and stood. She took the box with her new cage and walked up the stairs, to the showers and to wait by the bed for me. No doubt excited to have the cage off her clitty - even if it was just for a few seconds, and for the very last time, ever. As far as I knew her, just the thought of a permanent lock made it even more exciting for her.
I leaned back on the couch and stretched a bit, not in a hurry. Training a sex slave is hard work, really.