"How do you feel about master/slave play?" asks Chandler.
"I...really..." You are trying to resist, clenching your teeth, but you can't resist the collar and the words flood out of you, "I think it's hot, I fantasize about owning a hot woman and she can't say no because I own her, but she is still herself. Oh God, Chandler, stop this stupid game and let me go!"
Chandler has moved a stool over in front of you, so from your position on the spanking bench, his cock is at eye level to you. You strain your neck to look up at him, and his hairy chest and large pecs. You can just about make eye contact, and you see the twinkle in his eyes. You look down, ashamed of your fantasies, and have nowhere else to look but at his flaccid cock, still a little gooey from cumming in your ass.
"Sounds good to me," says Chandler, "You now call me master, and will dutifully obey my every request, even if I don't point the ring at you."
"Come on, this is so unfair, master," you say, and then groan hearing yourself add 'master' onto your sentence.
"Yeah, just like that," says Chandler, "And anytime I give you an order, respond with 'yes, master'."
"Yes, master," you say. You notice Chandler's cock is beginning to stiffen up again. You've always been ashamed of your fantasies, but now you're wondering if Chandler has the same fantasies.
"Let's try it out," says Chandler. "You are no longer on the bench."
You drop to the floor as the bench and its restraints vanish.
"Clean the apartment, I mean everything, the dishes, the bathroom, scrub the floor, whatever else you can think of."
"Yes, master," you say, rising to your feet. "Master, can I put on some clothes first?"
"No, you will always be naked at home unless I instruct you otherwise," Chandler says.
"Yes, master," you say, moving to the kitchen to begin your work.
"Unless your fantasy involves specific clothing?" he asks.
"No, master, I would want her to be naked too," you say, dooming yourself with your honesty.
For the next three hours, until it's nearly 10 PM, you scrub floors, wash dishes, vacuum, and any other menial task you can think of. There is a personal slave in your apartment now, and that slave is you.
As you work, you're free to think, and worry. Chandler said you'd always ben naked at home. Did that phrasing imply he wanted to keep you like this? Would he dare keep you as his slave? Chandler had been the nicest roommate you could ask for before you'd screwed yourself by putting on the Control Collar. Surely that nice guy wouldn't do anything permanent to you. Or so you hope.
For the sake of your own sanity, you convince yourself that Chandler, while maybe enjoying this a little too much, is sincere about helping you open up about your fantasies. This is your first foray outside of vanilla sex, and even if it is with a man, you're hopeful that it could still help.
"Slave, finish up what you're working on and come in here," Chandler calls from the living room.
"Yes, master!" You yell back. You finish vacuuming Chandler's room, put the vacuum away, and head back to the living room.
"Kneel in front of me," Chandler says.
"Yes, master." You kneel in front of the couch, in between Chandler's spread open legs. He has a boner again, and you can see it throb.
"All right, bad boy, describe your ultimate fantasy woman," Chandler says. "Doesn't matter if she would make a good match for you, or what her interests are, purely based on sensory details, what is your ideal fantasy woman?"