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"Is something the matter, dear?"

Daisy snapped his head to attention, staring straight out into the road as though he hadn't been focusing. "No, mistress. Nothing's wrong." A lie, but a well-meaning one. The ram, if he could even call himself that with his shaved horns and girlish figure, had been antsy throughout the week leading up to today. But he couldn't let his mistress know that. This was her trip, and even if he could not be part of it, he damn well wanted to send her off pleasantly.

Oh, but what he wouldn't do to be part of it. He saw her smirk out of the corner of his eye, resting her strong biceps against the passenger window. How many nights had he been a victim of those arms? Flogged, whipped, spanked, slapped, strangled, and more. He might as well have been a punching bag for her, something the ram accepted with grace despite his sadistic tendencies. If not for his mistress, he'd be nothing more than a typical sadist taking joy in the suffering of others. But now, with a quick glance in the mirror to help settle it in, he was a wonderfully sadistic domme. Assistant to the fox on paper, but a slave in private.

She ran a finger through his curly hair. "It's cute when you think you can lie. You're jealous, aren't you?" Her voice was soft, kind, hiding a dark but loving edge that lined up with his throat. Daisy nodded, shame crawling up his spine at the predicament. He was meant to be hers, but his own emotions put him first today.

She leaned back into her seat, crossing her legs, "I wish I could take you, Daisy. But this isn't really a vacation. It's business with a client." Who just happens to have a private island in the Caribbean. Daisy nodded and held his tongue. "Are you pouting?"

"No." He was. "Mistress," He added.

She didn't pry as the airport came into view. Mistress V didn't need to, her silence and smile were already clawing at the back of his mind. Parking at the drop off, Daisy's platform boots clicked against the pavement as he pulled out her luggage. He didn't need to turn his head to see the eyes looking upon him. The white short skirt and his black fur drew attention wherever he went. If they looked closely enough, eyeing his black thong, they might have seen the flathead chastity cage over his cock, struggling to contain his heavy sack. He barely noticed it anymore, it had been far too long since he'd had an orgasm to care. Who needed one when Mistress V's sting was Heaven?

Escorting her out of the car, he handed her the wheeled luggage and bowed before her. "Please have a fantastic week, Mistress. I hope your client's suffering is to your delight."

"Oh, Daisy." Her hand softly held his cheek, arching him up to face those fiery eyes, "They'll never be as delightful as you." She pointed his head down, calling attention to the black boot held out before him.

Even without hesitation, Daisy felt the judging eyes of everyone present as he gracefully fell to his knees. How could he not? No matter how much she tore him down and rebuilt him, the society he grew into still plagued his mind. The ram just pushed through the shame, grateful for his mistress giving him such an opportunity as he pressed his lips against the tips of her black boots. With but a peek, he could look up her black dress and see the G-string she wore. The small patch of clothing hiding her sex that he'd dutifully pleased with his tongue that morning. Now it lapped against the round toe of her boot, polishing it.

"Good boy." She had him repeat the second boot before letting him stand. With a firm kiss on his forehead, the vixen added. "I leave my affairs to you this week. Don't take that as a permission."

"Never, Mistress." The sensation between his legs felt like fire at her touch, growing hotter as he watched her hips sway back and forth when she left. Finally alone, he slapped himself in the driver's seat and took a deep breath. There was work to be done.

***

He would have headed straight to her home if not for his responsibilities. As much as he loathed it, his mistress gave him a pet for personal use and he had to take care of him. Not that the masochistic bitch wouldn't mind a weeklong stay in his dungeon, but Daisy needed some entertainment.

Past the front gate and into her two car garage, Daisy parked and headed around the back of his car. "Come on, bitch." Clicking the trunk open revealed a chubby husky in full latex, his mask expressionless with a stopper gag Daisy could remove whenever he pleased. The gimp's suit squeaked as he moved, robotically lifting himself out from the trunk and onto his knees in the garage. Daisy sneered at the big red cock between his gimp's legs, decked with ladder piercings and a urethral sound he removed for bathroom trips only. The husky's tail had been coated in latex, reshaped with a ripped dildo end for whenever Daisy could use a fuck outside of that pathetic cock.

It was also wagging, something Daisy disapproved of. "Oh? You had fun riding in the trunk?" Daisy lifted his gimp's face by the chin, "Of course you did. It's so much like your box back home." The ram squinted, trying to read whatever expression was made behind the tinted mask. He knew the gimp could see him, experience wearing similar gear under Mistress V had taught him that. But he couldn't see the gimp's face, his true expression.

For the better, his mistress had told him. Daisy was a sadist, a true purveyor of pain in others. If there was anything a true sadist despised, it was a true masochist who loved every second of their torment.

Unlatching the stopper, Daisy spat into the gimp's maw then plugged him back up. "I'm hungry. You should know Mistress's lodgings well enough. Fetch me lunch." The gimp crawled to the kitchen and started prepping food. Daisy headed straight to his mistress's personal office, a sleek white room separated by a wide wall of glass with a single desk, computer, and feral doggy bed inside. Memories flooded back as he stepped inside, having spent so long underneath her boot. Or being her chair.

He shook his head and went to work, starting with the vixen's taxes. The only skill from his old life she didn't bother rebuilding. The husky entered soon after, bringing a basic ham, cheese, and mayo sandwich on wheat. "Go clean her bathroom," Daisy ordered without looking, "Make sure you can lick off the rim."

Mistress V had the gimp long before she met Daisy. Whatever training she pushed him through had him act as a perfect drone, never voicing a complaint about anything outside of a pained grunt from play. A doll, to be molded however its owner wanted but never broken. Perhaps that's why Daisy felt frustrated in their presence.

Or maybe he was always like that? He had plenty of clients who were whiny bitches.

With a sigh, he looked to the corner where the gimp kneeled, having finished whatever chore the ram could think of. She snapped his fingers. "Come here, on your back." The gimp crawled over, laying flat and exposing his permanent red erection sealed in a layered condom for extra thickness. By all accounts, a dildo at this point. "You did a good job today," Daisy spoke with disgust, tapping his boot against the fat orbs hanging from the hound. The gimp's stomach heaved, breathing through the pain. "Even dumb masochist fucks like you deserve a reward for a job well done. But what to do...what to do..." Each moment pondered was met with a tap against the hound's sack. The gimp twitched and braced against it, his training fighting against common sense to protect his pathetic orbs. As if he'd ever pass his seed along.

Kicking off from the desk, Daisy snapped his fingers for the gimp to follow. "Come on. I need a change of scenery." Despite his mistress's preferences, she did not have every inch of her home covered in latex and D-rings. She saved much of that for her personal bedroom, and the complex dungeon she had in her basement. He preferred the latter for slaves like the gimp, believing that her bedroom could only be graced by the truly special. Strapping the husky against a cross, Daisy looped a shoelace around the hanging sack and pulled it tight, stretching out the red pair into a bigger target. He tied one end of the string to the bottom of the rack, tight enough to keep it taut. A quick flick earned a pained grunt that had the ram's own cage twitching.

Daisy left him there to stew as he got dressed. Mistress V always had a spare outfit for Daisy in her home, the white latex that stood out against his black fur. Tightening his corset and locking in his boots, Daisy admired the femboy staring back at him. The soft sack hanging from his crotch with a tuft of hair in the middle.

Every step he made around the dungeon came with a purposeful heavy thump. His fingers dragged along each implement of torture along the walls, occasionally taking one off and swatting it through the air. Its song, the way it screamed, and the weight it carried, all viable options for tormenting the husky strapped up. Not once did the gimp flinch at it. His chest steadily rose and fell through the wait.

No. Fucking. Fun.

"I know why Mistress gave you to me." Daisy picked a riding crap and a brush from the wall. "And I know why she lied about it. Did you know what she said when she turned you to me?" The ram lifted his gimp's chin by the edge of his crop. "She said it was because a masochist was what I needed. That I'd enjoy making you squeal. But that's not what she told you...was it?"

With his other hand, he pulled back the crop like a tree branch and held it over the husky's chest. He let it fly, cracking down on the nipple protected with a layer of latex. The gimp's hands clenched to fists, but he did not move. "Because I know Mistress V, more than even she likes to admit. When she broke me, I got to see the way she ticked. And her gifts are never just for one person. Oh no," He struck again at the other nipple, "Because she knew I'd hate you. That I'd find your enjoyment of every torment grating on my ears. She knew I'd keep finding ways to make you suffer, to see if I could break past the facade of masochism."

Reaching down, he clenched his fist around the stretched sack. His gimp's squeal filled the room, high-pitched and begging for more as Daisy pulled and tightened. "I should just fucking crush this in my hand, right now. You're not using them." He pulled more, "You'll never use them." The husky spread his legs for him, surrendering his crotch. Disgust piled inside Daisy, having him let go and simply slap it with the backside of a brush for a minute. Every high pitched squeal was another nuisance on his mind but it drove him further. It wasn't fake masochism. Daisy had been with plenty of submissives who'd crack under the right pressure. The real raw deal only made him try harder, just to get some sliver of joy from it all.

By the end, he was panting from exertion. The gimp hunched into their bindings, softly breathing through the hole in his mask. "The truth is," Daisy wiped the sweat from his brow, "I'm her gift to you. Because even she had a limit for your masochism, didn't she?" The gimp didn't nod, but Daisy was convinced. So he answered the only way he desired.

A swift knee to the groin.

"It's fucking funny, isn't it?" Daisy said through grit teeth, spitting down the gimp's maw as he held his head. "The masochist that won't break and the sadist who doesn't want to give up. But I am growing a bit bored of turning your sack purple and blue." Unclipping his cuffs, Daisy let the gimp fall to the ground. He stepped his boot over the husky's head, tempted to crush it but pushing the thought aside. "Get on the bed. I need a fuck."

He pushed the squeaky noises his gimp made from his thoughts while searching through the drawers for lube. Finding the bottle, Daisy held it over his hands to spurt a dollop, but stopped. "Catch." The husky did not, letting it bounce off his head in the sudden movement. The ram crawled atop the bed when his pet went to retrieve it, laying against his stomach and raising his ass to the masochist. "You see this ass? The one you kiss every day? Show me proper appreciation before you even think about sticking that useless rod you call a dick inside it."

Two leather-gloved hands spread his cheeks wide, with a soft, warm, and wet tongue bracing against his pucker. Daisy stifled his moans, trying to relax himself as his masochist fuckdoll's tongue pierced through his anal ring and explored his ass. Lapping deep inside, saliva lathering his prostate. "G-Good job..." Daisy tensed, hating to praise his masochist. "You've earned time with your cock."

The spurt of lube, followed by its chill pushing against his wet pucker and beyond, ate at him like the silence before the storm. Then came the head. The sound filled and condom wrapped head of his living fucktoy. Layer after layer making any pleasure he felt muted to extremes as it pushed deeper into the ram. "That's it," Daisy gasped, his ass spreading out with every inch pushed, "Make me feel good."

The gimp took it slow. His thrusts pulled back only an inch, carefully shoving it back in. Whether this was to keep Daisy comfortable, or lessen his own pain of the sound, the ram didn't care. "I said fuck me. So fuck me!" Daisy snapped. The squeak of rubber and latex resounded off the walls with the gimp's increased speed. Pressure pushed against Daisy's p-spot, adding to the pleasure he had knowing how much the sounding rod hurt in the gimp's cock.

"Harder..." He whispered. What good was a living dildo if held back his requests? The gimp's hands grabbed his ass, holding tight as he slammed into him. Daisy's spine curved back, electricity riding up it with every thrust. For a moment, closing his eyes, he could imagine his mistress behind him. Even without a dick, the woman knew just where to angle inside of him. Rough and soft, she'd pull at his curls and whisper sweet nothings while hammering into him. "Harder!" He cried, embracing her strong arms wrapping around his throat. If death came in her embrace, he'd welcome it ten folds if it meant to be in her grasp.

Lost in time, Daisy felt his walls crack at the relentless pounding of his prostate. "Stop." He ordered, his mistress had not given permission to cum. The gimp didn't stop. Daisy called it out again, but the latex slave buckled down and pounded, turning his legs to jelly with every bounce against the bed. "Stop, damn it!" His fingers dug into the bedding, breathing shortened with his walls of pleasure cracking more and more.

The fuckdoll went unimpeded. His force rocked the bed. His piercings ground against Daisy's inner wall and scratched every itch inside of the ram. Only his mistress could allow such pleasure, only she could give Daisy the joy. But, despite his mind's refusal, his body disobeyed and turned his legs to jelly. Months of denial crashed through and seeped from his cage, staining the bed as Daisy's mouth hung loose. His body melted to the pleasure.

The gimp stopped after the third ripple across the ram's body, slowly popping his cock out from Daisy's loose ass. "You..." His breath strained between words, "You...disobedient...bitch." With what little strength his noodle arms could muster, the ram turned himself over and sat up. He looked at the gimp with blushing hatred, slapping his hand across that faceless mask. "I didn't say make me cum. I said fuck me. Look at this!" Grabbing the husky's hood, he pushed him against the cum drenched flathead cage, "Mistress didn't give me permission to cum you dumb fuck. You...you...fuck." He sighed, grunting in frustration at the words escaping him. After a pause, he wrapped his legs around the gimp's neck and locked him in place. "Well? Clean it up," He ordered. "Be useful while I think of a proper punishment for this."

His heavy tongue dutifully lapped against Daisy's cage and sack, cleaning off the excess seed leftover from his own denial. The ram leaned back, taking solace in the warmth of the pink muscle while he formulated a true pain for the gimp. He wanted nothing more than to tan the bitch's hide what he'd done. To step on his nuts until they burst and make him clean the very soles responsible. But Daisy knew he'd love it, the sick fuck took pain to pleasures that the ram was loath to admit he envied in some way. No, a proper punishment would be boredom and ignoring him. Have the slave just continue tasks as normal, with corner and cage time for the rest.

But then he'd be bored. "A fucking match made in hell..." Daisy sighed, petting the husky's hooded scalp. In a way, he had to thank the bitch for making him cum. As much as he was shamed to break Mistress V's rule, it would be pleasant to feel the sting of her whip against his flesh again. "You stupid fuck," He said again, carrying a softer tone as the night drew in.