Owned Slave T-Shirt

Andrew stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the familiar weight of his steel cage pressing against him beneath his jeans. Three months of solo chastity play had grown stale—same routine, same sensations, same predictable release schedule he set for himself. He craved something different, something that would push his boundaries in ways he'd never explored.

The package had arrived that morning, plain brown wrapper hiding the soft cotton garment inside. He'd ordered it on impulse after browsing forums late one night, reading stories from other caged men who'd discovered new depths to their submission through feminization. The black t-shirt felt different in his hands—not just clothing, but a declaration.

"Owned Slave" emblazoned across the chest in bold white letters.

His cock strained uselessly against the steel as he pulled the shirt over his head, the soft fabric settling against his skin. The fit was perfect, snug enough to accentuate his lean frame while the provocative text stretched tautly across his chest. He looked like someone's property now, and the psychological shift hit him harder than expected.

Andrew's phone buzzed with a video call notification. Betty—the cam girl he'd been following for weeks, whose commanding presence had consumed his fantasies. He'd never actually spoken to her, just lurked in her chat room, but something about wearing this shirt made him feel bold.

He accepted the call.

"Well, well," Betty's voice purred through the speakers as her image filled the screen. Dark hair framed sharp features, red lips curving into an amused smile as she took in his appearance. "Look what we have here. A little slave boy finally ready to play?"

Andrew's breath caught. She could see him clearly—the shirt, the nervous excitement in his eyes, the way his body language screamed submission.

"Turn around," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Let me see all of you."

He obeyed immediately, spinning slowly so she could appreciate how the fabric clung to his torso, how the bold declaration of ownership transformed his entire presence. When he faced the camera again, Betty was leaning forward, clearly intrigued.

"That shirt tells quite a story," she mused, her fingers trailing along her neckline. "But I don't see an owner anywhere. Just a desperate little thing playing dress-up."

"I'm exploring," Andrew managed, his voice barely steady.

"Exploring what, exactly?" Betty's eyes sparked with predatory interest. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like unclaimed property just begging for the right woman to take control."

Her words sent electricity through his caged cock, the steel preventing any real arousal while amplifying every sensation.

• 100% combed and ring-spun cotton
• Fabric weight:4.2 oz (142 g/m2)
• Pre-shrunk fabric
• Side-seamed construction
• Shoulder-to-shoulder taping