Awry

by Cockatrice   

Caleb had signed up for a bondage session, meeting a new dom through an agency. Unfortunately, things do not go as planned…

Caleb rang and waited for the door to open.

He wasn’t exactly nervous, but it was always a bit of a thrill to meet a new dom. Caleb had signed up on a dom-meets-sub website where both doms and subs can put together a script with a list of interests and limits and then an agency would try to match them as best as they can.

This wasn’t Caleb’s first time, he had already been to half a dozen doms this way, but still, his heart beat just a tiny bit faster.

After some seconds, the door opened a little bit, blocked from opening fully by a chain. A man peeked through. “Yes?”

“Here for the session.” Caleb knew it was bad form to ask for names with the door opened. Even if it shouldn’t be anyone else’s business, sharing your names with the whole apartment floor when meeting for a BDSM session was probably not a great idea.

The door closed and opened fully again, revealing the full body of the man behind. “Come on in.” He gave Caleb a smile and an encouraging wink.

When Caleb had stepped through and was starting to step out of his shoes and jacket, the man closed the door behind him.

“You’re Kaleb Smith?”

“Yup.”

“I’m Erik,” the man introduced himself. “Wanna quickly go through it first? Or do you wanna start right away?”

Caleb shrugged. Erik had the script and there was no change to it, which was common for the agency. Revisions were rare. Plus, Caleb was horny and just wanted to start already. “I’m good.”

“All right then. Let me prepare and I’ll join you.” Erik pointed to an open door down the hall. “That door on the right is the fun room.”

“Got it.”

Caleb walked over and got inside.

The room was definitely decorated for frequent ‘fun’ use as Erik called it. There were a couple of mood lamps scattered around the room, providing enough light to see even without the ceiling light turned on and yet dim enough to feel cosy.

The furniture was dark wood and the bed had red covers. A bit on the nose, but hey, Caleb didn’t complain. It’s better than what that one guy two weeks ago had.

He looked up at the wall where ropes and belts were hanging and smiled. Boy, was he looking forward to that part.

Caleb sat down on the bed and felt the texture of the covers. It was pretty soft and was clearly washed very recently. If the rest of the evening was as good as the room, this might be the best session he’d had yet.

He noticed a glass of water with a pill lying on a small saucer on the nightstand. That was probably for Erik. He didn’t mind drugs. In fact he considered asking Erik for one too, but he figured it would be a bit rude if it wasn’t offered to him. Plus, he didn’t care too much either way.

As he waited for Erik to get ready, Caleb lied down and relaxed.

Only a minute later, Erik entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was wearing a scrubs shirt with a leather jockstrap.

Erik approached the bed. “How is my patient doing, hmm?” His voice wasn’t sweet and caring, but deep and imposing. He didn’t radiate concern but power.

Caleb didn’t know how to respond. Roleplay wasn’t part of the script. What was this even? Some care-dom thing? An evil doctor? He shrugged internally. A BDSM session is always for more than one person, so Caleb decided to go along. Usually the wants for a script were matched more closely between dom and sub, but so far Caleb had not been disappointed by the doms the agency assigned to him, so he decided to give Erik the benefit of the doubt.

As long as Erik didn’t expect Caleb to go all-in on the roleplay himself, that is.

“Not feeling talkative today?” Erik commented on Caleb’s silence as he sat down on the edge of the bed and fished for an ophthalmoscope. Without breaking the tone, he asked: “Traffic light?”

That was the default safe word used for all sessions by the agency, unless a different one was agreed upon. The other person would then answer either Green, to continue, Yellow, if there was a problem, or Red, to stop.

It was odd to be asked so early. They hadn’t even begun with, well, anything yet, really. Caleb figured that Erik just wanted to test if Caleb felt okay with the impromptu roleplay.

“Green,” Caleb answered.

As if the words had been part of the roleplay, Erik continued with his motions without commenting on them further or changing his expression. He raised the tool in his hand to look into each of Caleb’s eyes.

Erik lowered the tool in his lap. “I have bad news.” He put the tool away. “Your condition has worsened and there is only one cure, I’m afraid.” His deep voice sounded final, as if there was no room for arguing. Even Caleb who had no interest in the roleplay felt a little drawn into it by his acting.

He almost regretted not asking Erik for a pill as well. Maybe it would put him more in the mood to go along with Erik’s roleplay.

As if reading Caleb’s mind, Erik grabbed the glass of water and the pill from the night stand and put on a subtly threatening stare. “You didn’t even take your medicine.” He tsked. “You want to get better, don’t you?” He tilted his head and held the pill right in front of Caleb’s mouth.

Caleb stared at the pill and then at Erik. This was unexpected. The pill was for him? Maybe Erik already took one when he was preparing.

He must have taken longer than Erik considered part of the roleplay, as he saw Erik’s brow furrow ever so slightly.

“Traffic light?” Erik asked.

Aw fuck, why not? “Green.” Caleb licked the pill off Erik’s fingers without breaking eye contact.

“Now that’s a good patient.” Erik held the glass of water to Caleb’s mouth to let him drink. “Normally I would prescribe you some rest, but we only have a limited amount of time due to your condition.” He put the glass on the nightstand and then climbed into the bed, sitting between Caleb’s legs, with his feet on either of Caleb’s sides. Only now did Caleb notice that Erik was barefoot.

Caleb decided to play along. “What’s the cure, doctor?”

Erik hesitated for a second. Did Caleb say something wrong? But then he composed himself again and wiggled his toes. “The cure is feet.”

Caleb tried to stifle a laugh as best as he could, though he had to press his lips shut to do so. Feet? What?! As long as Erik got him off, Caleb would remember this as the funniest session he ever had, if nothing else.

Erik started massaging Caleb’s chest with his feet, while one of his hands worked Caleb’s cock, not enough to get him off, but enough to keep him horny. Erik’s other hand was planted on the bed behind him, propping him up.

Caleb found this type of foreplay odd, but decided to go along with it. He had to admit it was genuinely fun watching Erik getting totally into it. As long as they got to the bondage part eventually, Caleb was okay with a bit off the script stuff.

He looked at the ropes on the wall and smiled. Let Erik have his bit of fun. Caleb was going to have his own fun later.

The sub eyed Mark, his dom for the night, as the latter was bringing ropes.

To be frank, the session so far had been underwhelming. He actually had to remind Mark about the roleplay and even then the rolepaly was minimal and half hearted. He didn’t even wear a nurse’s outfit.

The sub guided Mark as best as he could, trying to salvage the roleplay in any way possible and he felt like Mark was slightly annoyed by it. His review for this dom on the website would definitely not be glowing praise.

And now there were the ropes. Bondage wasn’t really part of the script, but since he was going to be an inanimate object soon, the sub thought that maybe this was thematically tied to that, with the inability to move and all.

He hadn’t even gotten the pill yet either. Everything about this session felt so unprepared and phoned in. He wanted this night to be special, the last session as a human. He wrote the script over the course of weeks, wanting everything to be perfect. He even told the agency and they reassured him that they would take special care to pair him with a dom who could deliver.

He sighed internally as Mark started putting on the ropes. Maybe he should have gone with Mark through the script beforehand, but he had been so excited…

“Are you feeling the cure already?” Erik asked as his feet were rubbing over Caleb’s belly and chest..

Caleb was kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, with his elbows and knees on the ground and his belly up. Caleb was surprised he could hold this position as easily as he did. Maybe his yoga classes were finally paying off. Still, it wasn’t the most comfortable position but that also wasn’t really the point of bondage, was it?

Speaking of which, Erik still hadn’t used the ropes.

“Do you feel how the sweat and smell of feet flows into you,” Erik continued. “Knitting together your body how it should be, and not how it was when it was broken?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. The roleplay was droll at the beginning but it was getting on his nerves now, especially since seemingly nothing went the way Caleb had outlined in the script.

Erik must have seen or felt Caleb’s annoyance. “Traffic light?” he asked.

“Yellow.”

Erik paused the movements of his feet for a second. “What’s wrong?”

Caleb nodded to the ropes as best as he could in his position. “What about the ropes?”

Erik thought for a moment. “You want me to tie you up down there?”

Well rather down here than nowhere at all, Caleb thought but swallowed the pointed remark. “Yes. Please.”

“Okay,” was all Erik said as he got up and brought some ropes. He quickly tied them around Caleb’s arms and legs, as well as his torso. Caleb could tell that this wasn’t Erik’s first time, but when he was done, the bondage work felt rushed and sloppy.

Caleb sighed internally. He didn’t know what was wrong but Erik seemed a tad overwhelmed with the whole situation, so he decided to take the reins so to speak, get the session back on track.

“Can I also get a blindfold and a gag?” Caleb asked.

Erik smiled at the request but went and fetched the items from a drawer. “Continue?”

“Sure.”

Erik resumed his position. “Don’t worry. You will be cured of your condition soon.”

“What is my condition?” Caleb asked. He hoped he didn’t break the roleplay, but then again he also didn’t care too much at this point.

“Your condition is worry.” Erik didn’t skip a beat. Maybe he had been waiting for this question. “Anxiety, deadlines, expectations. But soon all of this will be gone and you will be free to finally become what you were always destined to be.”

Ohh, this was getting good. Finally some actual domination thing. Was this some evil doctor capturing guys and turning them into their sex slaves? Kinky.

“What was I always destined to be?” Caleb asked.

“Why, an object of course.” Erik put on Caleb’s blindfold as he spoke.

Caleb felt himself get drawn into the roleplay. Maybe the pill was finally starting to work. Or maybe it was the fact that he was blindfolded and could get lost in the fantasy easier. “You’re making me into your toy?”

Erik’s feet stopped. “Yellow.”

An interruption. “Yeah?”

“An ottoman?”

Caleb almost laughed. Erik really didn’t have to break character for that. So not a sex slave, but human furniture. Not much of a difference, really. “Sure.”

Erik let out what sounded to Caleb like a breath of relief. If only Erik had taken the bondage part as seriously as his damn roleplay…

“Not a toy, my dear patient, no,” Erik continued as he put the gag into Caleb’s mouth. “I’m turning you into something to rest my feet on after a hard day in the hospital. That is why I am infusing your body with the taste and smell of my feet, so your body knows what it will have to become.”

Caleb rolled his eyes behind the blindfold. Of course it was all about feet. He should have guessed earlier.

Erik continued his evil doctor monologue. The catty part of Caleb found the roleplay much more palatable while blindfolded and gagged.

It was a couple minutes later, maybe ten, maybe twenty, that Caleb felt weird. He wanted to shift his weight, but couldn’t, and it wasn’t the ropes that prevented it. He couldn’t even feel his fingers. The more he tried the more he was convinced that something was wrong.

Caleb tried to talk, but the gag prevented him from doing so.

“Oh, do you wanna say something?” Erik’s dominating tone came from above Caleb.

Caleb nodded and cried a yes into his gag.

Erik removed the gag. “Do y—”

“What have you done to me!” Caleb yelled.

“Don’t worry, my dear object, you will soon—”

“Red!” Caleb cut him off. “I can’t move my arms and legs. What have you done to me!?”

Erik didn’t reply. For a second there was silence in the room save for Caleb’s panicked breathing. Then Erik removed Caleb’s blindfold.

When Caleb looked down at his body his eyes went wide. Instead of his torso he saw a square of tufted leather.

“What is that?” the sub asked as Mark was holding up a blindfold.

“A blindfold.”

The sub facepalmed internally. Yes, the question didn’t make much sense, but neither to victims in these kinds of situations. It was Mark’s job to react in a way that gave the sub another opening.

Fine, let’s try this again. “Why are you blindfolding me?” the sub asked, putting extra effort into making it sound in-character, just in case Mark didn’t notice.

Mark hesitated for a moment, apparently trying to think up a reason. The sub hung his head. This was an absolute disaster. He had enough.

Before Mark could reply, the sub stopped the roleplay. “Red.”

“Yeah?” Mark seemed fairly done with the whole thing as much as the sub.

“What is all of this?”

Mark weakly gestured for a second. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, all of this,” the sub continued. “Did you even read the script?”

Mark’s eyes went ‘Excuse me?’ but he composed himself before he replied. “I have.”

“Then… Why did I have to lead the roleplay all by myself?”

“Because there was no roleplay in the script…” Mark countered. “There was bondage and that’s it.”

“Bondage? No.” An idea dawned in the sub’s mind. “Did you maybe read the wrong script?”

Mark exhaled at the implied accusation. “Did you maybe send the wrong script?” he scoffed as he untied the sub with a few expert movements. When the sub was free from the bonds, Mark got up. “Let me get my phone. I’ll check.”

The sub rubbed the places where the ropes had dug into his skin. Mark must have confused the scripts. The sub never even wrote a bondage scenario.

A few seconds later Mark reappeared, reading on his phone, scrolling through the script. “Bondage. Roleplay marked as optional and no mention of it in the script.” He looked up at the sub. “You’re Caleb Smith?”

“Yeah.”

Mark sat down on the bed and held the phone in front of the sub’s face.

The sub could tell immediately that that wasn’t his writing. His eyes went to the top of the script. Caleb Smith.

“Oh my god,” the sub exclaimed. “I’m Kaleb, with a K.”

Caleb hated everything. He hated the agency. He hated whoever had mixed up his script with that of another guy with almost the same name as him. He hated being an ottoman. He hated anyone who wanted to become an inanimate object forever. Like, how is that even a thing?

But truth be told, he hated himself the most. How did he not see the warning signs that were so obvious in retrospect? Nothing about the session went as it did in the script, not without his intervention at least. It should have been crystal clear to anyone that something was not going as planned in all the ways possible.

Caleb looked up at the mirror above him. God, he hated his new form. He was now an ottoman with tufted leather, his face embedded in the centre. His head actually retracted into his body further after the blindfold was removed and he had seen what he had become, so now he couldn’t even look around anymore. The transformation was not only unstoppable, but irreversible too. He was now a foot-rest for the rest of his life.

He had to admit, his dom handled the situation as well as anyone could. He tried to calm him down and called an ambulance immediately, not that an ambulance could do much, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Caleb was pronounced object on the scene and instead of a hospital, taken to a special adoption centre for objects who had no owner’s lined up for them.

At first he had been put into the room with the other objects, but his foul mood brought a lot of complaints so that the staff decided to move him into an empty room.

The room was basically storage, or a holding room for objects. It had a window on one side and was completely empty. One wall and the ceiling were covered in mirrors, intended not for the objects being able to look at themselves but being able to look at each other.

The sound of the door opening interrupted Caleb’s thoughts. It took a few seconds until people arrived in the mirror above. A woman, part of the staff, was carrying another ottoman, looking just like Caleb, and placed him down next to Caleb.

The woman looked at both after each other. “If you need something, just shout, as usual.”

“Sure, thanks,” the other ottoman said.

Then the woman left and shut the door behind her.

“So what brings you here?” Caleb looked at the other in the ceiling mirror. “You also misbehaved?”

The new arrival smiled. “No. I actually heard about you from the others and thought I’d keep you some company.” A pause. “If you want.”

Company, that was nice, actually. “Uh, sure. Yeah.”

“I heard your transformation was an accident?”

“Yeah. Someone mixed up my script with someone else’s, who likes transformation.” Caleb couldn’t help but put venom into the word ‘likes’, only for him to realise that the other guy’s transformation was probably willing. “Oh, shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply, uh…”

The other ottoman laughed. “It’s fine. I know it’s an acquired taste.” Realisation lit up behind his eyes. “Wait. Are you Caleb Smith, with a C?”

Caleb raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.” Hold on, two identical ottomans... “Wait… Are you Kaleb, with a K?”

“Yeah. Shit, your dom got my script. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“And your dom got mine…” Caleb finished that thought.

“I’m really really sorry this happened to you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If it wasn’t because of my script, this wouldn’t have happened,” the other ottoman countered.

“You didn’t send the scripts to the wrong person and you didn’t swallow the pill down my throat.”

“Mmh,” was the other’s only reply.

“Kaleb?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Caleb gathered his thoughts, trying to make the question sound neutral instead of accusatory. “Why do you like transformation?”

“Good question. Why do we like the things we like? Why do you like bondage?”

“Heh, that’s fair.” He looked up at Kaleb and smiled.

Kaleb smiled back.

“You look down today.” Caleb’s fellow ottoman looked at him through the ceiling mirror. “Anything wrong?”

The two had stayed separate from the other objects in the following weeks. They had become friends. Every once in a while someone came to see Caleb’s friend, but he always returned, due to a mismatch in expectations. It wasn’t unusual, he and the staff told Caleb. Afterall, adopting a human, even if they were physically an object, was more complex than adopting a pet.

But still, the thought of Caleb’s friend being adopted eventually and him being alone again gnawed at him. Caleb himself had told the staff not to put him on the list of potential adoptees, so he hadn’t seen a single potential owner yet.

“Just… Thinking about stuff,” Caleb replied.

“I see.”

A few seconds passed, before the other ottoman chimed up again. “Caleb?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you already think about adoption?”

“No.”

His friend’s face grew concerned. “You don’t want to stay here in this room forever, do you?”

“No, but…”

“But?”

“But… Urgh, I hope this doesn’t sound too kitschy.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I kinda like you.”

The other ottoman’s face lit up. “I like you too.” He thought for a second. “Maybe in a different life, we could have been owner and ottoman.”

“Or boyfriends?”

His friend’s face froze with surprise, but slowly thawed with a warm smile. “I would love to be your boyfriend.”

“Mmh.” Caleb looked at their ottoman bodies. “Maybe we should go on a date first,” he joked.

Both ottomans laughed.

“Caleb?” His friend asked once the room was quiet again.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t want to be adopted because then you would miss me?”

Caleb looked into the reflection of the window. “Yes.”

What followed was silence.

Minutes later, the door opened and a member of the staff carried Caleb’s friend out for another possible adoption.

Another couple minutes later, his friend returned.

“Not adopted?” Caleb asked.

“Nope.”

“What was it this time? Guy being into humiliating objects again?”

“No,” the other ottoman explained. “He was actually a fairly good fit except for one thing.”

“Oh?”

His friend looked at Caleb through the ceiling mirror. “I asked him if he was up for adopting two ottomans.” A meaningful pause. “He said no.”

“Kaleb…”

“I told the staff that we’re a package deal. One doesn’t get adopted without the other.” His friend smiled. “They’ll probably come by to confirm it with you, too.”

Caleb was speechless.

Caleb hated a lot of things, but what he hated the most right now was that he didn’t have arms to hug his boyfriend with.

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