Week seven marked a surreal, horrifying shift in the Kothi's daily dynamics: it was Rahul’s birthday. Once a year, Mistress Shalini allowed a highly controlled, bizarre role-reversal, acting as the domestic servant during the day while Rahul was permitted to lounge. However, his absolute submission was permanent.
When I arrived, Rahul was lounging on the antique teakwood sofa. He wore a blindingly heavy, pure gold silk saree that draped over his massive theatrical breasts. His makeup was flawless, his nose studs sparkling, and his massive chandelier earrings resting heavily on his collarbones. Despite his day of authority, his brutal metal chastity cage remained firmly locked, protruding prominently through the deliberate front slit of his gold saree. The massive bejeweled butt plug was still lodged inside him, forcing him to sway his hips dramatically whenever he stood up in his 6-inch heels.
The heavy red ball gag was the only thing removed for the day, allowing him to speak his commands aloud, his voice raspy from disuse. I spent the day serving him, running ragged in my scratchy red saree, 5-inch heels, heavy cuffs, and taut chains, fetching him drinks and massaging his cramped calves.
But the illusion of power ended at sunset. Shalini called me into the kitchen to explicitly explain the rules of the evening so I would fully understand the terrifying spectacle I was about to serve. 'Pay attention, Raj,' she said coldly, pouring herself a scotch. 'Tonight is his birthday gift. Ten men are coming. He will be stripped of his plug and chains, but he will take them all while remaining entirely on all fours, dressed in his gold saree and heels. If he manages to cum in the final thirty minutes when I finally unlock his cage, good for him. But whether he spills his seed or fails, that metal cage goes right back on for another 365 days.'
When the ten wealthy, dominant men arrived, Rahul was led into the grand dining room. His restraints and plug were removed, but he was bent over a heavy teakwood table on all fours, his massive breasts squished against the wood, his gold saree hiked up over his hips.
For the next six hours, Rahul was systematically and brutally pegged by the ten men. He took cock after cock up his ass, groaning and surrendering to his fate. But the true cruelty lay in his chastity. His metal cage remained firmly locked for the first five and a half hours. He was forced to endure the intense pounding while his own manhood remained frozen and trapped in cold steel. Between each man, Rahul was forced to remain on all fours, his massive breasts swaying, to meticulously give each man a blowjob and clean them up entirely with his mouth before the next one took his turn.
I was horrifyingly trapped as the servant. Locked in my tight metal cage, gagged, bound in my heavy cuffs and taut 6-inch chains, I spent the entire six hours hobbling around the dining room, my own plug buzzing constantly, serving expensive whiskey to the men while they used Rahul.
For the final thirty minutes, Shalini unlocked his cage. Rahul desperately tried to achieve a hands-free orgasm entirely from the anal pegging of these strangers. When the men finally left, Rahul lay on the floor, his gold saree ruined. He had failed to cum. But he was not a weeping mess; he lay there, a blissfully exhausted, heavily painted sissy, smiling softly despite his disappointment.
Shalini wordlessly locked his freezing metal cage back onto his anatomy. She shoved the massive bejeweled plug back inside him, snapped his heavy brass cuffs and short chains back onto his wrists and ankles, and strapped the massive red silicone gag back into his mouth. His birthday was over.
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