Chapter 1: The First Year of Slavery
Max has been fully owned for nearly a year now, transformed from a regular guy into his Master’s devoted himbo chastity slave. Six months in, he eagerly accepted his Master’s offer for a bold black tattoo just above his cock, pretty much a permanent mark of chastity and devotion that he proudly shows off in every cage check, on demand mind you! His cock has been locked in a tight steel cage ever since he entered service, and the tiny 1-inch prison keeps him constantly horny, leaky, and focused on serving.
Master’s goal is simple: turn Max into the perfect muscle himbo that is big, obedient, empty-headed, and completely controlled. Every part of Max’s life is scheduled, monitored, and optimized for muscle growth and total submission. Not only has this been something Max has been craving, but also something his Master has been wanting to try for some time.
Two cameras watch his small studio apartment at all times. One in the main room/kitchen monitoring his daily life, and one in the bathroom. Over time, the rules got strict. Max is never allowed clothing inside. He stays naked 24/7 at home, only dressing in the tiny designated spot right by the front door when he has to leave for the gym or work.
Max’s Strict Daily Himbo Slave Schedule:
- 5:30 AM – Wake up. Make bed perfectly, then kneel at the foot of the bed for 5 minutes of silent gratitude to his Master.
- 5:40 AM – Full nude cage check pose (front, side, and back pics sent to Master).
- 5:45 AM – Prepare and eat “slave slop” (protein powder, milk, supplements, and whatever Master dictates).
- 6:15 AM – Arrive at the gym. Intense muscle-building workout focused on growing his chest, arms, and ass.
- 7:30 AM – Post-workout locker room routine. Cold shower only. Sends full workout log, weights lifted, and progress pics to Master.
- 8:00 AM – 5:00 PM – Work shift. All paychecks automatically deposited into Master’s account. Slave is allowed a 30 minute break with real people food, the cost cannot exceed $10.
- 5:30 PM – Back home. Strip immediately at the door and remain naked.
- 6:00 PM – Second job online (while plugged or with a dildo if ordered).
- 7:30 PM – Prepare and eat evening slave slop dinner.
- 8:00 PM – Mandatory hole training: ride a dildo on camera for at least 20–30 minutes while edging his caged cock.
- 9:00 PM – Final cage check and nightly report to Master
- 9:30 PM – Lights out. In bed, caged and collared, ready for the next day.
Today however was one of those rare days Master changed the rules. Instead of his usual quick gym routine, Max was ordered to take a full nude locker room selfie: no towel, no hiding, just pure exposure. Heart racing, he obeyed like the good himbo he’s becoming, dropping everything to capture the shot. Now he stands there, muscles pumped, cage tight, hoping Master is pleased with his growing body and unbreakable obedience. He had never obeyed a command like that in public before, ever, but when he recevied the command he felt the need to obey it.
Max now lives for this life. He is locked, marked, monitored, and being molded into the perfect slave.
Chapter 2: Two Boys, One Cock
Four years had passed since Max first knelt and surrendered his freedom. The once “ordinary”normal” guy was now a sculpted, empty-headed himbo slave, permanently locked in his tight steel cage, marked with that bold black tattoo just above the shiny metal, and reshaped into the obedient muscle toy his Master had always wanted. His body had responded quite beautifully: thicker pecs, veinier arms, a round, powerful ass built from endless squats, and a vacant brain with an eager smile that screamed “total submission”. In all honesty, it also screamed “Lights on, nobody home”, or at least it will eventually. The cage, now a permanent part of him, kept him dripping and desperate every waking hour. Orgasms were a distant memory, long gone and out of mine, service was his only release.
After much discussion, Master had permitted a new facet to his slave’s live. “You may have a boyfriend,” he told Max during one of their nightly reports, “but he must accept that your cock belongs to me. Forever.” Max had beamed with gratitude, thrilled at the idea of sharing his transformed life while staying completely owned. Max was surprised his Master approved such a major change. What Max had not considered, was that the boyfriend was Master’s indirect control being exerted on him. A hot boyfriend, with a beautiful ass that you can never fuck. A hot boyfriend with a beautiful smile, who will never suck your cock. A hot boyfriend with a beautiful body, that you will never get to jerk off to.
That was when Patrick entered the picture.
Patrick was fit, confident, and immediately drawn to Max’s growing physique and unquestioning obedience. Likewise, Max was stunned at Patrick’s sexy build. At first he had been hesitant about the chastity cage, staring at the tiny locked nub during their early dates, but the reality quickly won him over. “Two boys, one cock,” Patrick started saying with a smirk. He loved that Max’s pleasure didn’t matter. He loved that he could use Max’s mouth, hole, or hands whenever he wanted and never have to worry about reciprocating. Max’s caged dick stayed untouched and irrelevant.
The relationship deepened quickly. Max kept every rule from his original schedule, but now his days revolved around pleasing both Master and Patrick. He woke at 5:30 AM, made the bed perfectly, knelt in silent gratitude, performed his nude cage check photos, and sent them to Master. After gym and work, he rushed home, stripped at the door, and immediately started Patrick’s coffee for the next morning. Evenings involved cooking Patrick’s dinner, real food, not slave slop, while plugged and ready. If Patrick wanted to fuck, Max dropped whatever he was doing, presenting his muscled body without hesitation.
Patrick adored it. He would come home, find Max naked on his knees with a cold beer ready, and grin. “Good boy. Your Master really broke you in nicely.” Sex was one-sided and frequent. Patrick would slide into Max’s trained hole while Max’s cage leaked onto the sheets, ignored. On time, Patrick out of pure curiosity, flicked the steel prison playfully and asked, “Can I ever touch it?”
Max shook his head, eyes glassy with submission. “No, Sir. This cock isn’t mine. It belongs to my Master. I don’t get to use it, no one does.”
Patrick found the answer incredibly hot. He had a big, obedient muscle boyfriend who cooked, cleaned, worshipped him, and never asked for anything in return. The dynamic worked perfectly.
Master even gave Patrick his personal number. “Report any infractions, any disobedience, anything at all” he instructed. Patrick took the responsibility seriously.
For two years everything ran smoothly. Max’s body continued to grow under the relentless gym routine. His devotion never wavered. Patrick’s confidence swelled as he enjoyed a relationship most men could only fantasize about.
Then came the slip-up.
One evening Max got held up. He rushed home, heart pounding, but dinner was an hour late. Patrick noticed. He didn’t yell, he simply took a photo of the cold, unfinished meal and sent it to Master with a short message.
Max’s phone buzzed while he was still apologizing on his knees.
Master’s reply was swift and harsh:
“30 minutes in the corner, hands behind your head, fully nude if you arent already. And your chastity sentence just increased by three months. It now stands at seven years. Do not disappoint Patrick again.”
Max spent the full half hour in the corner, muscles trembling, cage straining, while Patrick watched TV and occasionally glanced over with a satisfied smile. When the timer ended, Max crawled to Patrick, kissed his feet, and promised it would never happen again.
It didn’t. From that night forward, Max was even more meticulous. Patrick’s coffee was always ready, perfectly timed and hot. Dinner was on the table the moment Patrick walked through the door. Max’s hole stayed available and eager. His body kept growing bigger, prettier, emptier. The tattoo above his locked cock looked better than ever.
Master reviewed the weekly reports with satisfaction. His himbo slave was thriving, monitored at home, controlled at work, shared with Patrick, yet more owned than ever. Max lived for the structure, the denial, the constant reminder that every part of him existed for others.
Patrick leaned back on the couch one night, Max’s head resting against his thigh, the steel cage glinting between thick legs.
“You really are the perfect boyfriend,” Patrick murmured, running fingers through Max’s hair. “Two boys… one cock.”
Max smiled dreamily, the ache in his cage pulsing like a heartbeat.
“Thank you, Sir. I exist to serve.”
And deep down, he knew the best years of his slavery were only just beginning.
Chapter 3: Sealed Forever
Six years into service. The original four-year chastity term had come and gone without ceremony, without notice, without even a flicker of awareness from Max himself. The steel cage had simply remained—tight and permanent. The only cock he had known was that of his boyfriends and his masters. His body had started its transformation years ago: thicker, heavier pecs that strained every shirt he was allowed to wear outside; arms mapped with veins; a higher, powerful ass shaped by thousands of squats and endless hole training. The bold black tattoo above the cage still looked sharp and proud every time he presented it. His mind was quieter now, softer, happier when it had nothing to do but obey.
Master had approved the move. Patrick and Max were going to live together.
On the appointed evening Max knelt naked on the hardwood just inside the open front door of the new apartment, exactly as ordered. The door stood wide, hallway light spilling across his muscled thighs and the tiny steel prison locked between them. In his open palms rested two small gifts. One was the key. The other held the industrial sealer that would fill the keyed mechanism forever.
Patrick stood over him, already hard in his jeans, looking down with that familiar mix of affection and ownership. Master’s voice came through the phone’s speaker resting on the floor beside Max’s knee, calm and absolute.
“Give Patrick everything.”
Max obeyed. First the key, pressed into Patrick’s hand with a soft, grateful smile. Then the sealer. His cock twitched uselessly inside its cage at the sight of the tools that would end any possibility of removal.
Patrick crouched in front of him. “Look at me.”
Max lifted his eyes, glassy and eager.
“This is year 6. The fact that you forgot, tells me this is the right decision” Patrick said quietly, mentally trapping him the way Master had taught him to. “Not 4 or 5. No one noticed the fourth year end. No one is going to notice this either. You’re just staying locked. Forever.”
Max’s breath hitched. “Yes, Sir. Year 6. Locked forever.”
Master’s voice cut in. “Patrick, seal him now. Right there in the doorway where anyone walking past can see if they bother to look. Slave, hands behind your head. Present the cage properly.”
Max laced his fingers behind his head, chest out, legs spread just enough. The tattoo sat proud above the shiny metal. Patrick worked with steady hands filling the lock, sliding the key into the glue and keyhole, applying a little more sealer, then snapping the key so there was no way out. No keyhole. No escape. Just a closed, gleaming prison welded to Max’s body for the rest of his life.
When it was finished Patrick stood, wiped his hands, and rested one palm on Max’s head.
“Sealed,” he said.
Master’s approval came immediately. “Good. From this moment the schedule tightens. You live together now. Every morning starts the same: bed made, five minutes of silent gratitude, full nude cage-and-seal check photos sent to both of us. Gym remains non-negotiable—heavier weights, longer sessions, focus still on chest, arms, and that ass. Work paychecks still mine. Evenings are Patrick’s first. Coffee ready before he wakes. Real dinner on the table the second he walks through the door. Hole available on demand. No more excuses if Patrick wants something different cooked. You eat what you’re told after he is fed.”
Max’s cage gave a helpless little throb against the new permanent seal. He kept his hands behind his head and nodded.
“Yes, Master. Yes, Sir.”
Patrick’s fingers slid into Max’s hair and tightened just enough. “You’re going to be even better now that we’re under the same roof every night. No more rushing across town. No more late dinners. Just my perfect muscle boyfriend who can’t get hard, can’t cum, and doesn’t need to…”
Max smiled the soft, empty smile that had become his default. “I exist to serve both of you.”
Master’s final order for the night was simple. “Patrick, use him hard. Report in the morning with the usual photos and a full accounting of how the sealing felt. Lights out when Patrick is finished. The stricter schedule begins at 5:30 a.m. tomorrow. Do not disappoint either of us.”
The call ended.
Patrick locked the front door, then looked down at the kneeling, sealed himbo who now shared his home permanently. He unzipped, stepped forward, and rested the head of his cock against Max’s waiting lips.
“Open,” he said.
Max opened.
The steel between his legs stayed cold, sealed, and irrelevant while Patrick used his mouth, then later bent him over the arm of the couch and fucked the trained, eager hole that had been prepared for years for exactly this. Max’s cage leaked steadily onto the floor, ignored by both of them. When Patrick finally finished and pulled out, he gave the permanent steel a light, possessive flick with two fingers.
“Year 6 of infinite,” he murmured. “And counting.”
Max, still bent over, still leaking, still smiling, answered the only way he knew how.
“Thank you, Sir. Locked forever. Ready for whatever comes next.”
Outside the wide windows the city kept moving. Inside the new apartment the cock stayed locked, the schedule waited, and Max is now sealed, owned, and happier than he had ever been, as he knelt at Patrick’s feet until he was told he could crawl to the kitchen.
The best years of his slavery had only just begun.