1 comments/ 66063 views/ 11 favorites A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 01 By: gmikeisbad Last month I moved to a new flat in Rhodes, a riverside suburb newly developed to take advantage of the current rental price gouging in Sydney. This is one of the old pre-boom buildings in a group of older ones, no garage and only one washing line that is in shade all day. The adjoining block of apartments (we share a driveway) has plenty of parking and six clothes lines, so first morning I did my washing in the big outdoor laundry and hung my washing on the line next door. Feeling a little guilty... "A perfect crime" I thought as I came back after work to take in the washing. Someone had hung their stuff on the last two rows of one I was using so I almost put a black lace bra and panties in my bag by mistake. I hung them up again and noticed that some of the other person's clothes had fallen on the ground. I picked them up and hung them up in the empty space my clothes had left. Some very sexy and very small sized women's underwear. I have always gotten a rush out of seeing women's underwear. In the dim afternoon light I saw a very short woman with dark hair and skin smoking just outside the door to the other apartment block. She was staring at me and I looked away. I looked back and she was still just watching me, smoking and totally unbothered by me noticing her gaze. I gave a little wave, which she ignored and embarrassed I picked up my washing and went inside. Two days later and I am washing again – this is going somewhere I swear – and I get to the line to find a bunch of random women's clothes on the ground in the early morning wet grass. At this point I am a little worried that using next doors line is pissing off the neighbours, so I pick up the clothes and hang them before hanging my own stuff. I can smell cheap cigarette smoke and I look around... I hear a coffee mug clang on a metal table and look up to see someone watching me from their balcony just above the line. I see the top of a dark haired head and then she steps out of sight. I guessed it was the smoking short woman from a few days ago. I pick up my empty wash bag and get ready for work. In the afternoon I went to take in my washing and there is a silk cravat scarf with a small thank you card pinned to it. The card is blank but I guess it's for me and I put it with the rest of the washing and go in for the evening. End of the first work week in the new place, Friday morning and I am out extra early to do the wash before work and I see the cravat still in the bag, it's cold now so I tie it on (no idea how it should go) and set off for the laundry at the back of the building. After washing my stuff I get to the line and see a pink net wash bag / basket. It has the same thank you note on it as before. The line I have been using is filled with woman's clothes. I take a chance and fold and put the woman's dry clothes into the net bag and then put my stuff out to dry. I look up through my wet washing sneakily to see the dark haired smoking woman peering down at me through big round dark glasses drinking from a big mug. Once again after work I take in the washing but some how there is less than I put out. When I get back inside I realize that my socks and underwear are missing. I don't think much about it until Monday morning. Going into the laundry Monday morning I see the same pink net bag with woman's clothes in it sitting on top of the washer. There is another thank you card and the clothes are inside a protective bag so I put them in with my stuff and wash them all together. Hanging out the wash I notice that something pink had run through the wash and my whites are now pinkish. I hang my stuff and the mystery woman's frilly things too and set off to work. When I get home I forget that I have washing out and run out after dark to bring it in. Again there is the Pink bag waiting for the dry washing and I put the half dozen singlets, g-strings, bras, and panties in before grabbing my stuff. The next day I grab some underwear out of the clean washing and it isn't mine. I look through and all my socks and underwear are gone but all my shirts and slacks are there. I take anther look and the socks are all white knee socks and the underpants are all pink stretch cotton boxers. I put them on and they are quite tight but fit OK. Checking my mailbox that morning I notice a woman standing on the path wearing big dark glasses, skinny jeans, long horse riding boots and a sheepskin overcoat. She is smoking and tapping her phone. I check the mailbox and turn to see her holding up her phone pointed at me. A few seconds go by and I need to get to the train station so I give a little wave and head off. As I walk away I realize it was the woman who watches me from her balcony. It was pretty obvious that she was taking my picture and didn't care that I noticed. I felt a little special on the walk to the station. The next two washes go the same way, my socks and underwear replaced and a bag of woman's washing waiting for me each time I go to the laundry. What I did not notice before was that my white collared shirts were being replaced as well. By the end of the week I had only pink boxer underpants, long white socks and tight stretch white collared shirts. Also one of my pairs of work slacks was missing. Honestly, I was enjoying the game. I started wearing the cravat to and from work and washing every weekday. Everyday there was a bag for me to wash and dry. On Friday when I got home from work I found the pink bag waiting for me with a note on a thank you card. The cards had been missing the last few days... this time it had unit number 4 on it. After folding I took the smoking woman's clothes into the other apartment block and rang the 4 button and the door buzzed open. I walked up to the first floor and knocked on the door. I could see the shadow of movement under the door but no answer. It looked like the peephole was black, like someone on the other side looking through, but no response. I knocked again and called out; "Hello... (long pause) ...hello, here is your washing..." I waited for five minutes or so, thinking that my voice sounded effeminate but was too shy to call out again. I left the bag outside the door and went home. This was a really fun game, women's underwear, secret admirers..., presents... but I didn't know what I was meant to do. Living on my own after a long break up was kind of weird. My routines all involved my ex, now I had to re learn all of them. I was feeling a little self-conscious. Saturday was a shock. I got up late and went shopping, Rhodes mall was only five minutes walk, and it's over priced but shiny and modern. I got my weeks groceries and walked home to find my flat open. The door had been forced open with a crowbar, the blue paint chips were embedded in the door frame. All my papers and DVDs were gone, as were my shoes, my suits... all my clothes except the white socks, pink underwear and stretch white shirts. I called the landlord and he apologized... I don't know why. The locksmith came and left saying I needed a carpenter. The building handyman came after I called the landlord again and he just screwed a block of wood behind the striker plate and told me to use both locks next time. It was late afternoon before he was done and no chance to go to the shops for clothes. I didn't feel like it anyway. I rented a movie and ate pizza, annoyed and worried about the dodgy lock repairs watching crappy weekend TV. Sunday morning and I had slept in my track pants and shirt. I took a shower and realized I had no clean pants. I put on my pink underwear and white socks and stretch collared shirt and cravat, took my sweaty clothes out to wash. As usual I found the pink net bag waiting for me to wash. The familiarity cheered me up after being robbed and the chill of the morning air on my bare legs. I hung out my tracksuit and underwear and then the contents of the wash bag. They weren't women's clothes. Three pairs of men's grey breeches, one fitted zipper jacket and two pairs of white cotton gloves. I went in and ate the cold pizza and watch the rest of the Stargate DVDs I rented. I just couldn't be a bothered clothes shopping even if I had pants to wear over my pink boxers... Monday morning about 6am I got a knock on the door. It was loud and short and I called out: "Just a minute" I opened the door to find my track pants and other things from the line folded and left on my doorstep. I had forgotten to bring them in the day before. I tried on the breeches and they were tight. But skinny is in and they looked enough like office clothes for me not to care. Under the clothes there was a thank you card on top of a pair of black and white 1950's style golf shoes. I removed the studs and put them on. They were about half a size too small but it was better than wearing my sneakers in to the office so I put up with it. That day, in my tight shirt and pants and silk cravat, the office girls gave me some lingering looks and flirty chat. I hadn't told anyone about the break-up, I guess I was still holding out hope, or in denial... I don't know. I got home to find the locksmith back again fitting a new lock. He gave me the new key and left. I walked back to the video store and returned the movies. The smoking woman was there and looking through the DVDs with her dark glasses on. She stared at me until I turned to look at her and she subtly knocked a DVD off the shelf. She just kept looking so I went over to say: "Hello" She pointed to the DVD on the ground and I picked it up. She turned her back to walk to a different section while I was bent over. So I put it back on the shelf and followed her. The tight skinny jeans making her ass perfectly rounded like a peach. She flicked another DVD off the shelf and I picked it up and followed. Two more and I took them too. Then she stopped with her hand on her hip she nodded in the direction of the counter. I briefly looked up at her, kneeling at the feet of this short Asian Goddess and felt a rush. As I walked to the counter I looked down at the titles: "SissyMaids First Adventure", "The Mistress and the Houseboy" and "The White sex slave trade: a documentary" before I could put them back the girl behind the counter was already looking at me saying: "Next please" I sheepishly paid and looked up to see the smoking woman gone. I went home and watched the movies. I had seen my share of internet porn, but nothing like this. Powerful beautiful cruel women, dominating and degrading men in the hottest ways. It was incredible. I watched them all in a row then the rest of the night watched them over and over. I had the most intense fantasy and masturbated to orgasm eight or nine times. I fell asleep in my clothes. The next day I got up early for the washing as usual by this stage getting a perverse thrill at *servicing* this mystery woman, but this time there were two pairs of black patent leather boots and some rags and clear polish as well. I polished the shoes and did my washing, hung it, put the boots in my flat and went off to work. After taking the smoking woman's clothes off the line I folded them and took them and the boots up to unit 4. I knocked on the door and again no answer. I called in: "I have your washing and your boots." The peep hole darkened so I knew there was someone there. I felt a bit cheeky so I added: "I have polished your boots Ma'am, I hope they please you." Still no response but some movement. A thank you note came out from under the door, I opened it expecting it to be blank: -On your knees. Was written on the inside. I knelt down and the door unlocked and opened. I stood up to go inside and the door slammed in my face. I stood there for a minute... then I knelt back down again and the door opened again. I walked in on my knees, boots in on hand and washing in the other arms out wide to keep them up. In the middle of the living room was a mini ironing board and iron on the floor. I unpacked the washing and ironed and folded the few shirts and stretch pants before I heard: "OK, good boy, out now." I walked out on my knees with a massive hard on. I half expected her to stop me but the door closed behind me and I went home. I was really turned on. I decided to watch those DVDs again. This time my fantasy was the mysterious smoking woman and all the things I wanted her to order me to do. I was well on my way to my second orgasm when I got a knock on the door. I opened it slowly and tried to hide my hard on behind he door. Handing on my doorknob was a black satin maid dress with white mini apron, white tights, and a cap. I was so turned on I put it on straight away. I was just putting a pair of those white cotton gloves when I got another knock at the door. I panicked, I took off the cap and tried to stand behind the door and poked my head out as I opened it. It was another thank you card: "Unit 4 now." The thrill of going out in the early evening cross-dressed as a naughty French maid was overwhelming. I put on my cap and walked out the door closing it behind me. As the latch clicked I realized I didn't have my keys. I had forgotten to pick them up, understandable as I usually have pants on before leaving. Fortunately I had also forgotten to lock the door. I fretted in the stairwell for a moment about weather I should leave the place unlocked... I decided to take an external door key but leave my flat unlocked. There was a reason, but I can't think what it was now. Maybe just the flood of adrenalin blurring my thinking. I got to the outer security door of the other building and rang the buzzer for unit 4 and the door unlocked. On the first floor I knocked on the door and again there was no response. I thought about calling out, but 'what do I say?' I though. I almost called out 'Hello' and had a pang of worry about being caught and beaten up by sexually threatened yobbos in the dark apartment hallway. A few heart pounding seconds passed when I saw the shadow under the door and the peephole go dark. I took a chance and knelt down. The door opened instantly and I crawled inside. "Eyes down! Bathroom, ...crawl." I crawled across the living room and into the short hall and into the bathroom. I could hear the smoking woman walking along behind me. I asked: "How may I address you Ma'am" She replied: "Quiet." I felt a pointed heel up my ass push me inside on to the tiled floor. I stayed on hands and knees before a bucket with a bottle of vinegar, a scrubbing brush and a chamois slid in beside me. I turned to look back and was shocked by a barked order in an odd Asian accent: "Eyes down! Floor tiles, shower and toilet. 30 minutes." I felt her legs either side of my waist, her breasts brushing against the back of my head she took the brush, put it in my left hand and the chamois in my right. She tipped a small amount of vinegar and swirled my hand with the brush through it then wiped it off with my right hand. "Go. Do a good job OK. Hurry 30 minutes. Go" I sprinkled the vinegar around and swirled the brush through it. Ten minutes or so later and I had scrubbed and wiped the entire floor and getting into a rhythm when I saw in the reflection the smoking woman standing in the doorway. I moved closer to the wall to sneak a look at her. She must have guessed my move and she shut me down with: "Eyes down! Do your work now." I felt the domination and was shamed and excited at the same time. My face burned with heat and redness. I could feel my erection growing under my frilly skirt. In my haste I had put tights on without underwear and the feeling of the nylon straining against me hard on was heightening the buzz. I turned, head bowed down and climbed into the shower to scrub it. Rinsing out the chamois I could tell this shower had been cleaned very recently. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the smoking woman shift position inside the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and I continued swirling and scrubbing around he walls. Working around the tiled wall of the shower I managed a sideways look at the smoking woman. She was looking at me through her big dark glasses with something silver in her hand. Her phone was black and this thing was a chunky shape. I started to get out of the shower and was frozen by another barked order. "No! Shower floor now." I dropped down in the small space and gave it a quick once over. Standing up I snuck another look at the smoking woman sitting on the toilet. The silver box in her hands had a red light on the front. It was a cheap digital video camera. The smoking woman pointed to the floor between her legs. I hesitated expecting another barked order and getting aroused in expectation. She stopped pointing and I followed her hand as it unbuttoned the top three buttons of her shirt revealing her cleavage and an erect nipple inside her bright red satin bra. She could see my eyes moving with her hand and brushed open her shirt a little more, circling her fingers over her right nipple. She giggled and then pointed more aggressively. With a: "Scrub here!" I scrubbed the floor under her feet, she added: "Now the outside" I scrubbed the outside of the toilet, my head bobbing up and down between her legs. The smoking woman leaning forward to push the camera into my face as it bobbed up and down with each swirl. Rubbing her bootleg along the side of my head the smoking woman stood on the seat of the toilet and said softly: "Inside now." I scrubbed the toilet bowl with vinegar and wiped the porcelain to a gleaming shine. A garbage bag was tossed down for me, and a finger from high above indicated to empty the bathroom bin. Then: "Balcony now." I felt a little jolt of fear about cleaning outside in my maid's outfit. Her first floor apartment was built in the late 50's. The balcony barely big enough for the little iron table and chairs. The ashtray was full and there was a broom. The balcony faced the thin trees that lined the driveway of the next building. The side wall that faced my building was chequered, one empty space along side each brick but the other longer side was just wrought iron. I hesitated again, from that balcony several dozen new apartments were visible. They were across the street and the people inside unidentifiable, but it still felt very public for me. The smoking woman said: "Eyes down." I was already head bowed, so I wasn't sure what she meant. She handed me a shirt and I thought it was a cleaning aid for a second before I realized it was *her* shirt. I was desperate to look up at that fantastic chest inside that devil red bra. "Balcony." Was spoken and I felt myself just go out and start sweeping up. I brushed the dirt and the ash into the bag and turned to go inside to find the smoking woman standing in the doorway, still filming. She held out her hand and I gave her the shirt I was still clutching. "Tights." Was an order I didn't quite understand. Now feeling the chill of the winter air and the growing sense of being watched my those dozens of apartments across the way. "Give me your tights now." Was the clarification I needed. I started to take them off and the cold air hit my genitals. I froze, the mini dress on the French maids outfit was way too close to my junk for comfort. Without hesitation the smoking woman's red bra landed at my feet. I took off my white stockings and as I handed them over, head bowed, a can of shaving cream and a packet of razors landed on top of her bra. The balcony door closed and locked. Once again, frozen and aroused, my mind swimming with the thrill of humiliation coupled with the burning lust for this little Asian woman. It wasn't long before she was walking sideways across the living room camera in one hand covering both breasts with the other arm. "Eyes down, shave!" A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 01 was the muffled order as she reached the light switch and started turning the bright balcony light on and of quickly. I raised my hands and said: "No stop." My skirt lifting with my gesture briefly flashing my parts and shocking me with a wash of cold air. I bowed my head and felt myself blush deeply. I guessed that anyone returning for their washing would be seeing a second moon tonight. I dropped to the floor and picked up the shaving cream and razor. I started reading the can before I realized it was a spray can. My mind was just a haze of lust and fear and confusion. I lathered up my legs and foamed up my ass and junk before starting at my feet and quickly jammed up the razor. The door opened and a bowl of water placed on the iron table. I said: "Thank you ...Ma'am." In a sheepish voice. I heard a coarse laugh as the door locked again. I finished up and was handed a bottle of baby powder and I put on too much and then swept up the balcony before turning to the locked glass door. I waited for a minute before I thought to kneel. I was allowed in by my now t-shirt wearing task mistress. "Ok good boy. Eyes closed." A chair plopped in front of me and the unmistakable sound of jeans being unzipped. I heard the tights being ripped and then felt them going down over my head to my nose. Hands on the back of my head thrust my face into her lap. "Tongue." I licked away like a fat kid on a chocolate ice cream cone. My hard on now raging I was forced onto my back with a lap thrust pinning me to the carpet hips grinding on my face. A swivel move that would have made a stripped blush put her ass on my forehead, still grinding away. I felt my skirt lift and hands on my balls. I struggled and felt thighs tighten around my head and knees on my shoulders. I could tell she was close to climax. I felt hands close around balls and dick and squeeze. At first it was intensely pleasurable and I licked harder. As the pressure increased it quickly became torture and I tried to call out through her pussy in my mouth. My struggles setting her on fire, she came all over my face with a very loud: "Chai, chai-chai, chai-I!" For a moment she lay still on top of me, holding my balls with both hands. She lifted off my face and said: "Thank you Mali." I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be Mali or not... a very tight squeeze of my balls with a little twist with each syllable and a more definite: "Thank. You. Ma-li." ...my voice full of pain induced vibrato as I said: "Thank you Mali." Mali got off me and opened the front door. I guessed I had to leave and I went. The door closed behind me and I suddenly felt the impact of standing in an open hallway wearing a French maids uniform with no underwear with a raging hard on. I felt the slap of my erection against my legs and skirt as I trotted down stairs. I was so turned on I felt like tossing off right there and then in building next door to mine in the dimly lite stairwell. To be continued. A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 02 I was so excited when I got back to my flat I didn't even wash Mali's juices off my face. I just ran into the bathroom and began tugging away like a crazy monkey. The last few weeks doing her washing and wondering who this mystical task mistress was... and then her, almost without any words standing over me while I cleaned her bathroom in a French maids outfit... and locking me outside forcing me to shave my legs in full view of... God I was cumming hard and... 'Oh God' it was spurting out of me onto the bathroom wall. I cleaned my own bathroom in that maids dress without underwear and masturbated to orgasm five more times imagining Mali standing over me. Nothing was coming out after the third time but I still managed to get some on my dress. I got a hard on thinking about washing the frilly satin dress and hanging it on the common washing line... I almost went again, I felt exhausted and ecstatically happy. Mali had given me more pleasure and excitement from a few house chores than I had ever gotten from any amount of blowjobs and porn. I slept naked, enjoying the new sensation of hairless legs and junk. I woke several times to relieve myself, each time whispering: "Thank you Mali." I woke an hour earlier than usual, full of energy and wanted to wear my maids dress out to do the morning washing. The fear of getting caught cross-dressing now replaced with a sense of duty to put on a good show for hot little Mali. I showered and almost put it on when I saw the cum on the apron, it was still damp from my marathon self pleasure session last night. I dressed in the only clothes Mali had left me, pink boxers, white knee high socks and those charcoal grey breeches and tight white collared shirt. I gathered yesterday's clothes and felt a strong feeling that I had forgotten something. It was so strong I could not open my door. Confused I looked around my small studio... The cravat! I tied it on quickly thinking she would notice that I always wore her present... I walked to the outdoor laundry between our two buildings with a massive hard on. As expected there was the pink net bag Mali had been subtly training me to wash for her sitting on top of the washer. No thank you note this time... but rather than the mix of skimpy clothes and sexy underwear she usually put in there were five protective in-wash bags. Two with unit 5 and two with unit 9 written in nail polish and under those Mali's familiar zipped bag with her sexy clothes from last night. I washed and hung out the clothes grouped in their unit number and hung the bags with them as a marker. It was lucky I was early, the extra hanging time ate up most of my start and I had to rush to make the train to work. I had been wearing the same outfit to work for a few days in a row now and I would have normally gotten snide remarks but the office girls just smiled and continued with their lingering looks and mock sexual harassment. In those tight pants getting a semi was very visible and I think a few people noticed. They just smiled and didn't remark to my face. All day I was full of energy wondering what was in store for me under Mali's thumb –or thighs. I laughed at my own mental joke on the train and then felt like a bit a freak and pretended to read a text from my phone to cover it. I got home and took in the washing. I delivered the wash to the units in Mali's building. Same as before I knocked and said: "Hello, I have your washing" To which the occupant looking through the peephole just waited silently till I put the bag at the door and left. I was glad they were women's clothes and had a little fantasy about who was on the other side of the doors. I took my stuff in, including the apron I had separated from he maids dress to wash. On my doorstep there was a shoebox waiting for me. The black and white patent leather golf shoes I was wearing were stretching but still uncomfortable so I was happy that I could wear something else. I took it inside and opened it to see four silver rings with tissue paper inside them. They looked like hand made silver napkin rings... but not... they were different sizes and shapes; The one at the base was thick with a curved barb on each end, in the middle two kind of hour glass shapes and the last one was thin like a bangle. All running over a tissue paper snake. I lifted them out of the shoebox and they were connected at the top by three silver rods linked together like a chain... or ...like one of those collapsible walking sticks. The middle two rings had what looked like erotic images of an orgy and a beautiful Goddess with four arms and sharp teeth. She was standing on a man holding a paddle and a dildo in two hands and was naked except for a skull necklace and spiky skirt, earrings and hat. Many other figures naked and stylised in a rounded Hindu way, ran around the yo-yo middle shaped rings. As I turned it around I could see the tissue running through it was in the shape of a cock and balls. Underneath was that familiar blank thank you card. I wanted it on the instant I figured out where it was supposed to go. Pulling the tissue paper away I saw there was a bulbous shaped tube running half way along the center. I had never seen anything like that before, but from its position I guessed that it was supposed to slide up inside my cock. The tube in the middle had two bumps on it and was curved with two thin silver hooks forming a kind of C shape on the end. I was unsure as to how to put it all together. Removing the tissue completely I saw that the thick end was a cockring, I had seen these before and out of the tissue the silver set of rings came apart into six pieces. I slid the cock ring down my cock and had to pull my balls through one at a time. I was only flaccid and it was still a tight fit. As it slid into place I felt notches inside, not sharp but pointed. I looked in the mirror to see the wide ring pushing my freshly shaven balls out and one barb, pressing against the spot between my legs lifting my cock and balls up and the other barb separating my balls so they hung out sideways. This was very cool. I tried to put the other rings on but they were split at the top. The stick chain had slipped out and needed to be threaded through the hoops at the top of the rings to hold the hinged cuffs closed around the shaft. The bulbus tube looked interesting, I wondered if I could stretch it enough to get it inside. I licked it and it tasted of old metal. It slid in OK at first but started to sting very quickly. Pulling it out a little and it itched and stung more so I slid it all the way in carefully. The end had a little silver C shape on the end. As it slid all the way in I could see the bumps on the outside of my shaft and the c shape divided the head of my cock like two little breasts. I put the thin ring behind my head and slid the chain rod in. The thin band pinched and I had to push it together with the C shape hard to get them to fit in the grove of the tube. It was looking great. A big silver ring pushing out my balls, a wavy pattern in my shaft and the head of my cock divided by a thin silver cleavage with a thin collar just behind the head. Very exotic I thought. I took the other two cuffs and placed them between the bumps from the tube on the shaft of my cock. Then went on easy but I felt a pinch there too. I slid the chain rod through the loops at the top of the cuffs and they stayed. There was quite a bit of extra chain and it started to slide out as soon as I let it go. I pushed the end of the chain rod all the way. Going through the three loops holding the ring cuffs on and then into the last little hoop at the top if the cockring around my balls. I had to push the ring hard and rod chain around my head and it clicked closed and firmly squeezing the head of my cock between the ring around the shaft and the wire running down the middle. The head of my cock now bulging either side of the shiny silver harness. I looked at it in the mirror and got a big rush. Quickly, before I was too hard I poked the rod through all the way to the cockring at the base of my shaft. The last click took some effort and with it all the rings pinched the skin badly. I was flaccid, but the curve of the internal tube was bending me like a tea pot spout and the flesh along the shaft bulged out from between the rings. The last push pinched sharply, the pain was electric; every movement felt like it was tearing off very sensitive skin. I looked in the mirror again. I was naked, bent over making a face and my cock and balls were locked into a shiny sliver cage. The shaft pink and bulging in very round full bumps between the rings. Waggling out in front of me as I looked in the mirror I had seen this before... Slowly, I turned away from the mirror and my stumpy cock sticking out and waggled painfully as I turned and I looked for the release catch. Touching it stung and moving stung as it rocked back and forth poking out. It had just fallen apart when I took it out of the tissue, so it had to open... ...somehow. I looked closely at the engravings I had mistaken for an orgy, there it was engraved on the side of my silver clad cock. Men hunched over like me, naked wearing the same rows of cock rings. Not in the ecstasy of orgasm but in pain from their cock cages. Women were standing over them wearing nothing but jewellery, smiling and taunting. Not an orgy, but CBT domination. I got the joke, but the pain wasn't subsiding. I examined the device carefully and all I found was the male figures, naked doing chores, being slapped or pleasuring the stylised bubble breasted Thai women engraved on the rings. Some time passed and I started to deflate. Still bulging out of the sides but no longer pinching. The relief was intoxicating. I looked back at the mirror and saw my cock, short and very bumpy and rounded, like it was made from ruber inner tubes. And poking out, curved down then out like the end of an elephants trunk. I decided to stop playing with it and just wear the thing for a while until I got an idea about removal. I went to the kitchen to make coffee so I could think. As I walked my cock swayed from side to side slapping my thighs and pinching. I grabbed hold to adjust, but he slightest pressure anywhere and the rings bit and pinched badly. In the light of he kitchen I could see that the rod chain was a sawtooth shape and as it went though the loops of the rings, pushing them toward me opened the cuff and relieved the pinching, but pulling forward tightened them, pinching quickly. So it was a one-way latch. To remove it... ...maybe I would need to loose some skin. I chose to leave it in place for a while and hope that my boredom deflated me enough to escape. Making the coffee naked in the kitchen my mind wandered. Before I realised I was doubled over in pain. The daydream had partially inflated me and the tension on the rod chain was pinching me and curling my shaft upward, now curving so much I was pointed straight up and squeezing my balls so the skin was tight and shiny. I tried to touch it but it just made the pain worse. I kept looking at it, silver bound and bulging like a fat beaded necklace... no, not like a necklace, like something else I had seen. I limped to my computer and Google imaged "sex toy". That was a mistake. The added blood flow had me chanting and humming in pain. And I didn't see it. A few pages of scrolling and I saw it "Contoured but plug." My cock and balls were now the shape of a rubbery anal sex toy. My mood mixed. I thought this is what Mali wants and got another jolt of pinching pain from the indulgent thought. Naked and sex toy internet shopping wasn't reducing my swelling. I got dressed and drank my coffee. There was no comfortable way to sit, the outline of the... I don't even know what to call this... Thai cock ring? I did some more internet searches thinking I might be able to find out how it worked if I could find out what it was. I found CBT devices and Penis plugs and all manner of chastity cuffs and belts. I guess it was most like the gates of hell device, but also with urethra insert... an hour of staring at cock locked up like mine and I was starting to daydream again. Not about other guys dick but about being locked up for Mali... I was in real, not fun, pain now and concerned I was doing some significant damage. I grabbed my keys and headed over to Mali's building. I buzzed the buzzer but got no answer. I buzzed again a few minutes later and thought she might be out. I walked around to the washing line to look up for lights on in her apartment. She was standing smiling looking down from her balcony. I said, "I need to talk" She shook her head. "I am... ...in trouble... ... um... with your, gift. " Searching pointlessly, I couldn't find adequate words. She said, "Wait." And returned with her phone. I was a little unsure what that meant, but was happy to be getting some assistance. Mali called down, "Show me." I stepped fully into the floodlight and hesitated. Mali leaned forward and said nothing. I unzipped my breeches and dropped them and my shorts to my ankles. Mali looked on and lifted her phone. She made a twirl with her finger for me to turn around. I started to turn and got struck with another blindingly painful pinch. Mali laughed her coarse little laugh as she filmed me with her phone, bent over in pain. A car started down the drive and I fell over pulling up my pants in a hurry. Mali continuing to film me on the ground called down to me: "See you tomorrow boy." I got up but she had gone inside. I felt upset; I had to fight thinking about Mali so I didn't get any painful inflation. A female neighbour said hello to me on my walk back to my flat. Just the sound of her voice enough to give me a good pinching. I nodded, walking was smoothly as possible and went inside. A knock on my door startled me just a few seconds after I closed it. The neighbour that had spoken to me, an early 50s stocky woman I had noticed a few times but never spoken to was at the door. She asked me for my help carrying a plant she had bought from her car to her unit, two levels above mine. I said OK, because I couldn't think of a way to explain why not... I got the mini palm and carried it up to her place. She held the doors open for me and gave my ass a rub on the way into her unit. I asked her where it would go and she just stared at my crotch for a few seconds. I suggested the balcony and she said, "Yes, anywhere is fine thanks young man." I was feeling the pinch at the thought of this woman luring me up for a quickie. I put the plant down and she blocked the doorway. Grabbing my junk she said: "This looks interesting. Can I help you... with that?" I didn't know what to do; I hoped that showing her the painful dick jewellery would spook her... She unzipped my and pulled the shiny silver ringed member out roughly. I gasped in pain and she started blowing me. The stroke toward me was incredibly pleasurable but the sucking back stroke felt like it was shredding me. After a few strokes she withdrew, her teeth chattering over the lumps of engorged shaft. "My ...this is interesting, how painful is it?" She gave it a tug and I yelped. "Well there is only one thing to do then." She grabbed hold and pulled me down on my knees, stepped on the head of my cock and thrust her pussy in my face. It was surprisingly easy to get her off. She came in just a minute or so and let me up and gave my swollen lumpy mass a hard pat. "Would you like to me to finish you off?" I shook my head at her request and she asked: "Why don't you take it off?" with that she gave it a big pull. "I can't get it off." I answered through gritted teeth. A smile widened across her flushed face. She went down on me again, this time running her teeth across my head and balls. I struggled in pain but could not get free. I said: "Please stop, its hurting me." She continued a little rougher. "Please, I'll do anything, please stop." "Anything?" she looked up at my pain filled face with a good grip on my member. "Well, fuck me for five minutes and I'll let you go." I agreed to her ultimatum even though I had no idea how. I was very hard, in severe pain and this seemed like a really bad idea. She undressed me on the way to her bed and slipped off her panties. She sat me on the bed and put a pillow under my ass before laying me on my back. She took a condom and rolled it on, splashed on some watery lube and climbed on top. The weight of her on top of me pushed the cockring deeper inside me with a painful sting. As she rode me, the thrust strokes felt great, but the withdrawal pinched and stung. I was making hee-hor noises like a donkey, up stroke pain, then down thrust ecstasy. After just a few minutes and some hip circling from my rider she came again with a very happy vocalisation. The muscle contractions inside her feeling like they were tearing and ripping though me. She started to slide back with a big smile on her face and I felt the most intense joint. Instinctively I grabbed her waist and pulled her back on top of me. She gave me a squeeze with her pelvic floor muscles and I withdrew from the pain. "That's two nothing to me love." She quipped. I was in agony. She climbed down and pulled my pants up for me and got my shirt. "If you want to stay honey, we will need to look at that five minute arrangement..."she said in a mock threatening tone. I took my shirt and left for downstairs. I was so horny I could barely take it. I would have screwed that woman like a wild man if it wasn't for this torture device. All night I tried to avoid thinking of sex or touching myself. I never knew before how often I did that. I fell asleep after hours of horny torture and had to get up to pee. To my shock nothing came out. A new itchy stinging feeling started to grow as I felt the pressure build inside my cock. Stinging and pushing the pain grew sharply. I fumbled around the end of the head jewellery and found a little plug. I took my scissors and twisted the slot on the plug. Spraying myself in the face with urine as I did. I jumped into the shower and sprayed the rest of the wee out. I felt good. I went back to sleep, waking every hour or so in pain from night wood. To be continued. A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 03 Thursday morning and I was up an hour early again, sleepy but excited. I was very horny and constantly focusing my mind away from sex so I didn't get another erection. Just touching the silver rings around my junk in the morning was enough to escalate the background uncomfortable pinching up to full blown CBT. I went out even earlier to the laundry to attend to the washing and there were five small protective bags again. The sight of my task from my mystery woman giving me a semi and the familiar pinch from the cock cage locked around me actually started to feel good is a strange way. I felt very happy washing and hanging... to please her... On the way to work I was super conscious of the outline of my cock and balls against my tight stretch breeches. I couldn't stop looking as I walked along. Some women brushed past me at the ticket booth and I lost focus. A sharp pinch reminded me to keep my mind off the opposite sex. It was taking all my concentration, looks from pretty office girls had me looking at the ground, red faced trying not to think about them. In my mind I felt everyone knew there were four silver rings locked pinching it into a beaded shape over the curved tube inserted in my cock. At work it was worse there was no hiding the bubbly outline of my shaft inside the tight breeches. I didn't make eye contact with anyone. I left early, I just couldn't focus on work... ...at lunch I stuffed some toilet paper down my front to try to hide the corrugations... The attention (or my imagination about the attention) that my groin was getting was causing spasms of swelling and pinching from the rings sausaging my cock and balls. The ride home on the train wasn't much better. A pretty girl sat next to me on the train and tried to strike up a conversation. I answered her questions and tried not to encourage her. She got off at Rhodes with me and continued talking to me as we walked out of the station. I was just about to ask her to stop following me when she gave me a little wave and got into a man's car waiting for her outside the station. I felt a little foolish until I saw her give me a little wink as they drove off. I needed to see Mali and tell her it wasn't working out... I thought... a few more steps and I had changed my mind... I was angry, horny, anxious, in pain and totally unable to think straight. I needed to see Mali. I hurried home and went out to take in the washing. I took the other units that had been left for me to wash and dry (5 and 9 again) up to their doors knocked and left the clothes without waiting. I ran back downstairs to get Mali's things and her pink bag. Bounding back up the stairs to her door, the pain with each big step was actually turning me on. I fell to my knees and knocked on her door. I felt my hard on pinch and strain against the metal rings the pain was intense but I was enjoying it. Mali opened the door with a smile. The ironing board was set up for me and a carpet sweeper next to it. I did her ironing and started sweeping her living room floor when I noticed she was sitting outside on the balcony sitting side on to me... next to two other women. They were all smoking and looking in at me. Mali noticed I had stopped and made a broom action with her hands and I went back to work. Mali said something in the others and they all had a laugh. I felt the heat of embarrassment fill my very red face. This was it, I had to say something. It was a fun game for a while but it needed to end. I went out to the balcony. The three women looked up at me and then all eyes dropped to my groin and the outline of the rings around my bulbous cock... and I lost my nerve. Mali put a cigarette in her mouth and looked at the table with a big lighter in the middle. She looked back at me as if she had asked me a question and I hadn't answered. I lit her and the other two eagerly put cigarettes in their mouths too. I lit them and stood there holding the lighter not knowing what to do. Mali handed me her coffee cup and said: "Black no sugar." Her two friends following suit. The younger Mediterranean woman said: "White with one." As she handed me the cup. The Korean / Chinese ... I think *Korean* woman said: "Black tea." I took their cups and headed to the kitchen and boiled the kettle. As I waited for the kettle to boil I stood closer to the balcony door to listen to their conversation. They all laughed again but over the hiss of the electric kettle I couldn't make out what they were saying. "Boy!" Mali called me and I came out and stood waiting for her instruction. She just waited for a moment. I started to speak and she said: "Quiet." Said Mali firmly stopping me from speaking. The three women looked at my pants and the bubble shaped my balls and cock made locked inside the silver rings. "The Kali wedding ring is from my village. My village women ruled. Before I come to Australia I had a boy, many women have boy. Foreign men come to serve us. That's how I learn English. Go boy, coffee now." Mali gave me a little brush away wave; which really turned me on. The three continued talking as I went back into the kitchen, I guess about Mali's life in Thailand, ...or about her serving boy... The kettle clicked off and more laughter from the women. I heard: "... all the time... ...they want more and more." In Mali's sing song Thai accent. I made the coffee and tea and took it out to them. Mali looked at me and repeated: "Your dinky is the Kali wedding ring. She keeps your pleasure. She teach you to be a good boy. Say *Thank you Mali*." I was deeply humiliated in front of the three women. I bow my head and say: "Thank you Mali." In a pathetically sheepish voice. The sting of the group domination consuming my mind totally. And again my hard on fights painfully against the rings constricting my junk into a beaded anal toy shape. Mali smiled, "Your welcome Boy. You want serve me?" I started to say yes and she said: "Quiet now." Talking over me. The other women laughed at me. And Mali added: "Would you like to see it?" For a long panic filled moment I thought she was going to ask me to strip for this coven of 40 something women. She stood up and led the other two into the lounge and picked up her phone. The image of me standing under the washing line last night just before I dropped my pants showed on her TV via wireless link. She turned to the others and said: "Give your keys, he can sweep your floors and do your ironing." The two women gave me their keys and I took them not knowing what to do. Mali handed me the mini ironing board and gave my ass a slap adding: "Wipe for dust after you iron and sweep... ....don't leave any dirty dishes Boy." I heard a tinny recording of my voice coming from the TV. I didn't want to be in the room for them watching me displaying the results of Kali's wedding rings on my freshly shaven cock and balls in the open air last night. I brought in and ironed the washing I had left on their doorsteps. I swept and tidied and dusted the tow small apartments; it didn't take long. When I came back to Mali's unit I could hear the Laughter through the door. I felt like I was intruding. I waited till the cackle died down and gave a quiet knock. The door did not open. I waited then almost knocked again but immobilized by self-doubt when I heard. "Come in." I opened the door but hesitated. The three women looked cross from the couch. I knelt down and crawled in to approving comments from the women as they took back their keys from me kneeling in front of them. Mali watching on with a knowing look. On the TV was the paused image of me trapped on Mali's balcony, wearing a French maids dress with no pants, shaving my legs. I buried my eyes in the floor blushing with shame. The humiliating position getting me unstoppably aroused and the pinching pain returned to my cock. Mali stood in front of me looking down. She gave her phone to the Korean looking woman and said: "Youtube OK?" I was shocked. The two women leave while I'm still kneeling on the floor of the living room. Mali rubbed my crotch with her boot. The sensation is maddening. Mali: "You don't want to stop?" I know she can see the pain on my face. I shake my head and Mali says: "Take of your pants." I do and Mali stops me from taking off my pink boxer shorts. She stands very close to me, brushing against me and unbuttons my shirt. The pain from my erection is all consuming. I raise my arms for her to pull off the shirt and she does. "Go to unit five and knock on her door." I get up and leave without a thought. My erection on fire with pain; strangled and contorted into a curled half circle straining against the cotton boxers, sticking out in front of me like an oversized coffee mug handle pushing out my boxers. I knock on the door of unit five and I see the shadow under the door. I hear a giggle and see the woman continue watching me and I feel the rush of exhibitionism and the pain from the hard on. I see the peephole blink with some excited breathy giggles. Mali's phone slides out under the door and the woman calls through: "OK, *Boy*, go back to your Mali." I go back down to Mali's unit and knock on the door, automatically falling to me knees for permission to enter. I hear the door of a near by apartment open and hope that Mali tells me I can come in quickly. She doesn't and I hear the footsteps walk past behind me as I kneel in waiting. Another minute or two passes... Finally Mali calls out: "Come in." I crawl in and she is waiting for me in a satin robe with the living room light off. Her perfectly formed pointed breasts pressing her large nipples through the shiny material like an erotic 1950's pinup drawing. Back lit by the balcony light through the large glass doors, the only source of light in the dimly lit living room, I can see her silhouette through the long robe and I am awestruck. Her smooth brown leg peeks out seductively as she takes each step. I follow her down the hall and into the Bathroom. In the back corner of the long thin room is a three quarter cut wine barrel, I had previously thought was decorative. Mali climbs the little step ladder and sinks into the hot steamy water. Deftly dropping her robe to the floor as she steps in, I get the shortest of strip teases watching her pert ass and edge of her right breast kiss the water which spills a little as she dunks. Mali's head breaks the water encasing her as if in slow motion like a shampoo commercial. She flicks her hair back and rests her head on a tub joined to the back of the barrel, without looking up she directs: "Come Boy, wash my hair." I walked past the side of the barrel quickly, looking into to the translucent water... the inside of the barrel lit from the florescent overhead bathroom light. Mali's brown skin glassy and smooth glowing in the water. Her perfect breasts bobbing slowly in the water. I am torn, I want to follow her instructions but I want to stare... The cage around my cock and balls crushing me into a decision. At the back of the barrel, Mali's head rests in a cut out tub for hair washing. The pink fruity shampoo squeaked as it piled up into my hand. I started at her forehead... all the shampoo came off in the same place and I fussed and struggled to spread it around. Mali lifted her hands and guided mine around her scalp. I lent forward and caught a full length view of her buoyant and perfectly curved body. I groaned out loud and Mali laughed. After massaging her head for a few minutes Mali pointed to the shelf under the window. I put on the loofah mitts and struggled to open the moisturizing body wash. Mali stands up and I gasp at the sight of her. She smiles and takes the plastic bottle and squirts both my hands full of more pink and fruity smelling wash. I am so stunned at the sight of this beauty that she has to take my hands and start me off swirling the soap on her. I am sweating and shaking now, partly from the hot steamy water, partly from over excitement and partly from the tearing pain in my boxers. Somehow I remain conscious and soap up her front then her back down to the hips. She lifts her leg out of the barrel and places it along the edge rim with a flexibility that deepens my delirium. I do one leg and she presents her ass and then the other leg... I finish off the leg at her pussy and she pulls me inside the barrel and I struggle under the water for a few moments before she lets me up. Mali puts her legs on my shoulders and guides my hands under her ass. Shiny and soapy she looks as devilishly mischievous as she does pornographically beyond measure. I lick the soap off her thigh and she gives me an approving: "Hmmm" Her phone rings and she slips off me and grabs it with a sensual: "Oui." I wait neck deep in the water barrel as I watch while her ass cheeks dip seductively in and out of the water. Mali continues to speak French, sometimes calm sometimes commanding. Without breaking rhythm she pressed my face into her breast and whispers away from the phone: "Lick." The taste of the soap stings my nose but I lick those incredible conical breasts as she chats away on the phone. I lick clean one side and her nipple is like steel. She pushes me underwater and climbs onto my shoulders again. I eat her with a passion I have never felt before. A few moments of bobbing in and out of the water and she steps on the edge of the barrel raising out of the tub and pushes my head hard into her. I continue going down on her for a solid three or four minutes. I can hear her fighting against her own pleasure... all the while continuing her conversation in French. With a single fluid motion Mali hangs up and slips back into the tub with a big splash. She slides her big toe inside my boxers and strips me with a kick. Wrapping her other leg around me she slides down me like a fire pole. Her hand guiding my contorted cock into her with a whimsical laugh. The warmth is noticeable even more than the warmth of the water. The down stroke sliding me deep inside indescribably intoxicating. I feel a jolt as the four knobbly bumps on my cock slide into and out of her. The first stroke so pleasurable I hardly notice the pulsating pain. As Mali's bounces increased in intensity the pain quickly overtook the pleasure. I start to protest and Mali gives me a kiss covering my mouth. I continue to protest and start to struggle to escape Mali's kiss turns into a playful bite as she really grinds on me. I whimper into her mouth with pain and she releases my lips to make some very pleasurable sounds. She presses deeply into me and my pain vanishes. I immediately begin to climax. Mali withdraws, shooting me with pain and killing my climax as fast as it began. We thrash around in the tub for a few minutes, Mali bringing me to the brink of climax and killing it with a hip swivel over and over. Mali beings to orgasm... "Chai, chai-chai, chai, chai, chi-chi, chi-I, eeee-a" The excitement or the water or... I don't know... somehow I cum with her through the tearing sensation. The orgasm lasts twenty or thirty seconds. Mali kicking my legs from under me dunking me completely underwater. I am exhausted and out of breath underwater and Mali strangles me with her legs, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of me. I break the surface pushing Mali up into the air and she screams: "Nalak chai!" Her phone rings again and she spanks it off to voice mail. Slipping out of me she slowly savors the look on my face as she releases my cock one bump at a time. She splashes some water over her self before she points to the towel rack. I climb out and hold out the towel for her. She takes it and with a hand on my shoulder presses me down to my knees. Dripping wet naked and still fully erect curled inside the cock cage I wait on the tiled floor as she walks out of the bathroom. She returns with a long piece of hessian. Slipping it between my legs she ties a tight kind of g-string nappy. She pulls it very tight, a girlish: "eek" escapes my lips and I am pulled in tight. She drops a satin shirt and long satin shorts at my feet and says: "Get dressed for shopping nalak boy." To be continued... A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 04 It's been a wild few days. Right now I am finding difficult to remember just how exactly I ended up: Bathing and servicing this beautiful Thai woman. How I became naked in the bathroom except for a hand made silver traditional Thai Femdom cockring; I don't seem to be able to remove... ...contorting my member into a bubbly shiny fat stump... After doing some washing for an unseen mystery woman a few weeks ago I got robbed... and gifted some clothes and a cockring anonymously... It seems strange now that I took those things without knowing who they were from... ...I guess you had to be there. So despite getting more attention I have ever gotten from the opposite sex, as every woman I came across coming on to me after loosing control over my own cock I have been constantly aroused, unable to find release inside my cock cage... until just a few minutes ago thrashing around under Mali in her big wooden barrel bathtub. Kneeling on the bathroom tiles, wet and still naked except for a hessian loincloth Mali had tied on me. I was looking at the little apron part at he front and back when She spoke abruptly: "Alai-wa. Alai-wa!" It definitely sounded like I was in trouble. Mali splashed the water in the bathtub barrel and fished out my boxer shorts and dropping them back in. Mali takes a long cane from behind the barrel and I am very nervous. She pushes my head down so my nose is pressing into the tiles. She says: "You clean up boy." I start to say sorry and Mali speaks over the top of me again: "Quiet." She shifts her stance and stands on the fingers of both my hands with one foot. I start to speak and I hear the swoosh of the cane. I cry out as the cane bites into my cold wet ass cheek. Mali repeats: "Quiet." And gives me another one on the same cheek. I cough out an, "Ah!" Mali says, "Wait here. Quiet." She opens the bathroom cabinet and squats down in front of me. Now with one foot on each of my hands. She lifts up my head to look at me and slides something into my mouth. I expect a bar of soap, but this it hard and wooden with metal on the bottom. She says: "Bite, do not open." I bite and feel the click of the catch release. I can feel rough wood block on the roof of my mouth and a metal spring pushing my tongue down. The wood jabs the back of my throat and I gag. Mali pushed my mouth closed. Teeth clenched, the spring is held down and no longer pushing the wood down my throat. I try to feel it, but Mali has my hands pinned under her feet. She gives a little giggle, releasing my left hand. I feel my mouth and there is a sharp metal catch poking out of the wood block in my mouth. A few seconds go by... ...Mali takes my left hand and puts it behind my back fussing with my loincloth. She steps off my other hand and puts it behind my back. Both hands tied behind me Mali says: "Quiet. Lay down" I slither forward onto my chest and the wood block catches on the tiles. It's hard to keep my teeth clenched to stop the wood sliding down the back of my throat. I am almost flat on the bathroom tiles and I hear another swoosh. I hum in pain but keep it to a low volume as the cane bites my ass again. I pant and snort out of my nose. I feel Mali's foot on the back of my head and another swoosh. The two strokes light up my other ass cheek and I make some quiet involuntary, "hoos-hoos', noises through my nose. Mali bends down and I flinch. She rubs my bare ass cheeks making a soothing noise. The small circular motion on my ass both soothing and erotic bit also spreading the pain around too. Mali says: "You clean up boy. All the time OK.... Stand now." Mostly naked and wet with hands bound I wiggle on the cold bathroom tiles for a few moments before I figure out I need to roll over to stand. As the cold tiles hit my ass and the fresh cane marks, a new sensation prompts some quick little whimpers before I gain control. Mali stands close to me as I struggle to get to my feet. I roll forward onto my knees and she sits on top of me. Mali just looks into my face for a while and then brushes my wet hair back with her hand. I am trapped, both physically and by lust for this powerful little woman. She is wearing long black baggy trousers and a black bra. I stare into it and feel a smile across my wood filled mouth. Mali giggles and mumbles something in Thai. She gets off and I start to try to stand again. She looks down and says: "Wait." I do. Mali takes a bag and a hair dryer out of the bathroom cabinet. She brushed her long hair as she dries and I look up from the floor getting increasingly turned on. Mali sits back down on me and bushes and dries my hair. I can feel a lot of brushing and blowing in many directions and wonder what it looks like. She is done and puts the hairdryer down. She gives me a little wiggle, still straddling me as I kneel on the bathroom floor. I giggle with approval and she smiles. Opening the little black bag she takes out a pencil and closes my eyes with her hand. I feel the pencil run around my eyelids in little damming strokes as she pulls my eyebrow up hard... ...and then around my lips. I am really enjoying this attention when she climbs off abruptly. The cold air hits my thighs and snaps me back to reality, somehow she had untied my hands and I didn't notice... must have been thinking of something else... I stand up and fish my underwear out of the bath and grab Mali's towel and robe as well. I don't know what to do and look at her for help. My mouth full of wood I can't make any intelligent sounds. Mali grabs the front of my loincloth and leads me to, and out of the front door closing it saying. "Hang up washing line." Not wanting to be caught outside in a loincloth with fresh tiger stripes on my ass from the canning I go to the line quickly. The cold winter air buzzes my cane welts, but I don't feel cold. A man and a woman are parking their car as I push the buzzer to get back into Mali's building. She makes me wait so I follow the young couple into the building and knock on Mali's door. She calls out: "Balcony Boy!" Running around and waiting outside under her balcony I start to feel the cold. Some clothes fly over the wrought iron rail and float down to me. A white satin Chinese collared sleeveless shirt and a pair of long shorts. I put them on quickly and a pink cloth shopping carrier drops beside me. Once the shorts are on I notice there're tight at the top but so baggy at the bottom they look like a skirt. I pick up the pink wheelie cart and look up to the balcony. Mali is standing behind me and clears her throat. She gives me the shopping list and $50. Walking to the shops barefoot, I wonder how security will react to me walking in... Five minutes of walking through the back streets of Rhodes and I get to the group of buildings where the mall is. I see my reflection for the first time in the brilliant shopping strip lights reflected in the big windows. My hair is teases into a high centre point with a scrunchy, my eyes and lips lined with pinky brown liner. I look like a... like an Asian houseboy I guess... I am looking in the reflection loosing he nerve to go in to the shopping centre when I feel a blow to my ass. Mali has followed me and given me a spank for wasting time... I almost lose control of the small block of wood in my mouth and it pokes out a little revealing the catch... 'It's a mouse trap.' It finally occurs to me, but I can't see how to take it out without it snapping shut on my tongue. "Alai -- Wa!" Mali scolds as she walks on into the centre. I follow her and she just stops and points toward the supermarket. I change directions and she follows me at a distance. When we [ass one of the side allies she grabs the back of my baggy shorts and steers me into the parents room. In the cubical she removes a clear silicone sock from her bag and gives it to me. "Dinky. Keep you warm." She undoes my pants and removes my loincloth. I start to slide the rubbery tube on and see that it fits over my cock and the ornate silver cock cage that is bending it into a semi circle like a trumpeting elephant. Everything I try is failing. No matter how I try to slip the translucent rubbery sock over the bulbus head of my cock it just wont go on. The silver cock cage is dividing the head into two almost perfect swollen hemispheres divided by a thin silver band. Mali had sat down on the change table and was watching me struggle and fail with a strange little half smile. She reached over and pumped quite a lot of hand sanitiser into her palm without breaking her gaze on my junk. She leaned forward and lubed me up with both hands. Slipping the sock past the three rings around the shaft was easier than I expected and it fastened behind the wide cockring around my balls. All the attention coupled with the extra width and length had me waggling out in the change room cubical. I knew if I looked at it I would get a raging hard on. Mali reached over and pinched one of my now quite swollen balls jutting out to the side. I didn't need the attention. The slight pain the pinch caused me paled in comparison to the tearing pain caused by the cock cage biting against my unstoppably inflating cock. I heard Mali chuckle in that very corse voice she had when her guard was down. The door on the cubical moved and someone tried to get in. The noise startled me and Mali pushed me back onto the toilet seat. Mali took the mousetrap out of my mouth and said: "Quiet. All the time boy." She kissed my mouth closed she was very excited by the sounds of other people within earshot. I hooted in surprise when she grabbed hold of my swollen balls and sat down on my lap. I stopped the noise and kissed her back. She bounced on me a couple of times until I was hooting again. Some more hand sanitiser when onto my cock splint and Mali bounced furiously on top of me, cumming hard over an increasingly panicked whine from me. Mali gave me a few more squeezes and bit my nose before jumping off in a single action. She looked at my silver cage shimmering through the transparent silicone. I was so hard, so horny I couldn't stand it. Mali Pulled up my baggy shorts and gave me a pat on the ass. She gave me a little push with her foot as I hesitated leaving the cubical. As I passed the mirror near the door I saw my erection waggling very obviously under the skirt style shorts. My face was pink and a little swollen from being kissed hard. My heart pounded walking out into the busy shopping centre. Mali followed me out and sat down at the café. I looked back hoping I didn't have to go... for some reason... any reason... nope. She gave me that little dismissive hand wave and I go weak at the knees with lust and panic. As I am walking up and down the isles I look back at Mali hoping she is watching my progress. I as so horney at this point I can't even remember which items I have got on the fifteen odd item list. Constantly looking over to her and drawing ever more attention in the supermarket. As I get to the checkout the three checkout operators, two women and a man are staring at my crotch. Ten minuets since the parents room cock splint fitting and my hard on is still waggling away under the baggy skorts fat and springy. I change to the non-express lane and stand behind a large woman to try to hide my embarrassing situation. A step too close and I accidentally jab the woman in the ass as she bends to reposition her groceries. I can't help but chirp: "ooh I'm sorry." In the girliest high pitched voice I have even heard come out my mouth. The woman seems not to have noticed, and I am very relieved. I look over and Mali is laughing into her magazine, totally unable to maintain the ruse of not watching my humiliation. The large woman takes a step back toward me while I am watching Mali loosing her shit in the café. The large woman gives me a couple of bumps and I say sorry again. She lets out a little chuckle. I pay and the check out girl gives me back the wrong change. I almost take it and don't say anything... then I think that it's Mali's money so I should say something. "I think I gave you a $50." I say sheepishly. "Are you sure?" The teenager asks in a way that tells me she is just messing with me. "Yes, I'm pretty sure." I reply hopefully. "You're pretty sure? Listen mate your not pretty anything." She drops the rest of the change at her feet. I look over at Mali who is now head down on the little round café table laughing so loud I can hear it fifty meters away across the open mall. I pick up the change and get a little thrill bowing down before the Woolworth's checkout dominatrix. The walk home Mali followed me so she could enjoy the faces and comments of the passers by as I carry her shopping bags home. Back at Mali's flat I put the groceries into the kitchen cupboard. Mali takes me into the lounge. There is an internet downloaded dance video playing. It was slow motion and I watched for a few seconds not knowing why Mali is playing for me. She takes my hands and bends them into the contorted shapes of the dancers. She works my arms and pushes me around like a puppet until I get that I am supposed to be learning this dance. Mali disappears into the Kitchen for fifteen minutes and I practice away, the dance on loop. Mali comes out as I am copying the head movements of the super thin Thai girl dressed in white silk and gold. Mali takes me outside and bends me over the wrought iron balcony railing. I hear the tinkly-tinkle of a can being shaken and get the back of my head coated in spray paint. Mali rolls me over and sprays the front half. My hair is now a matt of gold like the spiky helmets of those Thai dancers. Mali leads me back inside and sits. She plays the dance full speed and I try to keep up. She giggles as I botch the dance. I turn to see her coming back up the hall from the bathroom with that long cane. I dance harder and faster; I'm horny and erect and uncoordinated. I look to see her checking my progress and she gives me a little tap on the cheek to remind me to follow the head movements. Mali slows the dance to 75% and walks back into the Kitchen. After another ten minutes of practice Mali comes out and returns the dance to full speed again. This time I follow the dance almost perfectly. She picks up her phone and taps away. She gives me a shot to the balls with the cane when she notices my looking and not following the head movents of the video. She leaves it on full speed and returns to the kitchen. After a few more repeats of the video the clink of plates lets me know she is serving. There is a knock at the door and Mali calls out. "Boy!" I answer the door to see Mali's neighbours. The mature Koran woman hands me her jacket as she pushes past me. The young Mediterranean woman following hiding a scoff behind her hand. "Set table Boy" I follow Mali's instructions and put out the three plates, the salad and the cutlery. It looks like I am not eating with them. Mali turns up the volume and gives me a pat on the ass. I go back to dance practice. Over the music I can't hear what the women are saying. A few minutes go by and I can hear the occasional tap of cutlery on plates. Suddenly Mali is standing next to me holding the cane. She turns me around to face the diners. A cane to my backside lets me know I should be dancing. Mali cracks me with the cane almost immediately. "No, wrong! Open your shirt." I do and I get another thwack. I start dancing for the now captivated duo. Ten steps in and I get another blow. "No, Like this." Mali stands behind me and moves me in time with the music. I start to dance again and Mali calls out to the two women: "Shirt or pants?" Simultaneously the two say: "Shirt!" I take off the shirt and quickly start dancing. Mali goes back to eating and the two women call out: "Wrong!" Mali looks up and looks at me with a devilish grin. I keep dancing in the vein hope that I won't get a penalty for messing up the dance steps. She finishes her diner looking over at me while I dance away. Mali stands up and stops the video, pointing to the table, which I clear. The fear visible on my face. While I'm in the kitchen I hear: "Boy! White coffee, black coffee, milk tea." I boil the kettle and serve the drinks. Mali puts the video back on and I start to dance. She shakes her head and I know what's coming. I stop dancing to take off my shorts. Mali strikes me with the cane: "Dance!" I dance away and try to remove my shorts at the same time... the three woman look very pleased; fighting back laughter. My shorts drop and I remember that Mali had removed my loin cloth and not retied it in the parents room a few hours ago. The three women watched transfixed as my silicon and silver cage clad junk bounced away in time with the fast traditional Thai music. The embarrassment deepening with each head bob and twirl movement. The song came to an end and the video began again. I kept dancing as Mali ushered the other two out the door. I thought I had made another mistake and would be punished. Mali came back to me and sat down on the floor to watch me for another song. That same half smile look. She watched me with that look and I was incredibly turned on. Turning off the music she took my hand and led me down to her bedroom. I followed her in and started to climb on the bed. She slapped my ass, spinning me around. Mali took my hands and tied them with a soft rope. She knelt me down facing the end of her bed. Wrapping her legs around me I start licking and sucking. I taste her juices and she slides down sitting on my lap. Slipping me inside her she slides on very slowly. Gently rocking back and forward on me I feel fantastic. I match her movements. Every stroke I push a little harder. I feel the pull of the rope around my wrists and the heat of Mali's body. I am bursting with passion, but I am not climaxing. Mali rides me harder and we are rocking away for a good few minutes. Normally I would be cumming like a wild man, since the cock cage, I haven't been able to masturbate and even sex was too painful for me to cum. I should be cumming by now but the splint over my cock and balls is absorbing all sensation. Mali looks down at my face as I realise I cannot cum. She looks exhilarated, kissing me hard and biting my lip until I cry out. She is riding me hard and I start to feel my balls ache. I can't help but let out a half moan half whine in frustration. Mali pushed off on the back of the bed. I fall back pinning my hands under me. Mali gives my balls a squeeze and slips off me. Climbing onto my face she says: "Thank you Mali" And gives my balls a hard twist. While she queens me I mutter: "Thank you Mali". She rides up and down on my mouth and nose while she gives me a twist each time I finish forcing me to thank her over and over. The friction is starting to really hurt my face and she switches to a circular movement. Seconds later, Mali sits back down quickly on my double coated cock and again I am unable to feel it. Holding me one ball in each hand she is squeezing each one independently for a thank you from me. She rides me fast and hard, arms behind her, back arched she is a picture of ecstasy. My balls are aching more with the release of her grip than the squeeze now. A shudder runs through her and she whimpers in delight. I join in but my whimper is in relief. "Go home now boy." Is all she says as she kicks her leg over and climbs into her bed. I collect my stuff, get dressed and go home. I go into my bathroom and try to take a wiz. Nothing comes out and I remember I need to open the valve at the end of the tube inserted in me. I am momentarily startled by the sensation of silicone rubber where the end of me cock should be. A Houseboy for Mali Ch. 04 There is no opening in the end of the rubber splint so I try to slide it off. I see now my balls are the size of mandarins. Looping the silicone off the cockring one ball at a time pain shoots through me. With a snap of rubber on cock the splint slips free. I hear a pop and the splint and the cock cage shoot off into the toilet with a gush of urine. After I empty my bladder I can't believe the euphoric feeling of relief. I stare down at the bowl full of pee and see past my erection. For a moment I am torn between finally masturbating to orgasm and putting the cage back on... The end.