It had been a busy, stressful time for Seth. A pay per view three nights ago, RAW two nights ago, and Smackdown last night. He was beyond tired; he was exhausted, and slept in on Wednesday morning. Fortunately, so did his Master and Mistress, Hunter and Stephanie. He beat them awake, there would be no tumbler of icy water cast upon him by Master, or thrown at him, tumbler and all, by Mistress.

As usual, Seth was tethered by his chain, hooked into his leather harness. He wore expensive gold dog tags studded with diamonds. One had his name, the other was engraved Property of The Authority. Other than that, he was nude beneath his paw print blanket. His puppy bed was a futon mattress on the floor in his owner's bedroom. His custom-made lead was padlocked to the end of the bed, on Master's side. Lots of slack chain between his "bed" and theirs, but not enough to wander much beyond it, not that he had a reason to. His water bowl was beside his bed, his name was even etched on it. He was a spoiled and pampered pet, he was champion, and he was getting a huge, huge push. He was on top of the professional wrestling world, and all he'd needed to do was become the pet slave of the kinky power couple in charge of it all. Mistress had approached him with the idea when he was still in The Shield, and he'd agreed to a span of servitude equal to that of his title reign. When he cashed in Money in the Bank, his life as theirs began.

He waited for Master to awaken and take him outside. Seth's restroom privileges were strictly controlled. He was only allowed to use it during his shower time and while working or at work functions. Otherwise he had to go out back, walked on a leash by Master, usually, or use puppy housebreaking pads.

Seth's tether wasn't long enough (purposely) to reach his puppy pads. He had no choice but to wait, his bladder aching. He had to go so bad he thought he'd be sick. He whimpered a little, and when that didn't work to rouse Master, he got out of bed and began to pace back and forth. The rattling chain woke Master.

"Lay down, Seth!" He ordered grumpily.

"I...Sir, I can't. I really need to take a piss, Sir," Seth said, quickly, and helplessly whimpered again as his bladder cramped. He had to hold himself.

"Damn it, Seth. Just hold it," Master ordered. He got out of bed, naked and awkward with sleepiness. He wrapped his nudity in a black robe. Seth always felt superior whenever he saw Master's dick; he didn't have much of one at all, whereas Seth was blessed with a far more sensual length, and thickness.

Master unlocked the chain from around the end of the bed and led Seth outside. Seth was allowed to walk normally in the yard, but had to get on all fours, like a puppy, to piss. Sometimes Master wouldn't notice when he stopped, and tugged him over, but this morning he was paying attention, and stopped when Seth did.

After Seth was relieved, he followed Master back into the house. In the bedroom, he unlocked Seth's harness, and Seth slipped it off, and slipped into what he thought of as his uniform: black boxer briefs and a jailhouse-orange t-shirt with PROPERTY OF THE AUTHORITY printed on the back in big, bold, black letters. Then, he went to do his morning chores.

First, he prepared breakfast and espressos for his owners, and breakfast for himself, which he ate while making the espressos. He set up Mistress's meal and drink in her home office; she did not pamper herself in the morning. Master, however, took breakfast in bed. He carried the tray to the bedroom where Master lay under the covers, naked again. Mistress had already gone, as usual. Seth set the tray down, then knelt on the floor to wait for Master to need something.

Master made short order of the food it had taken Seth more than half an hour to prepare, while answering emails and texts on his phone. Seth took the tray away, and when he returned, Master was out of bed. "I need a shower," he said.

Seth went to the master bath to turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to what he knew Master favored. He hoped Master wouldn't make him come in, but of course he did; he always did. Sometimes he just told Seth to wash his back, but other times he wanted more.

Seth took off his uniform and followed Master into the shower. He tried to think of it as a crowd shower in a locker room, but of course, it wasn't. This wasn't him and his fellow actor athletes after a practice or show, fucking around playfully with each other. This was showering with the boss, in his shower, at home.

"Wash me," Master commanded.

Seth washed Master's back, and held out the washcloth for Master to take.

"Stupid Seth, I meant everywhere."

Seth washed Master's whole body, head to toe, only passing over what he tried not to look at, Master's pathetic, tiny cock and shriveled balls.

"All of me, Seth. Use your hands, not the washcloth."

Seth washed the organs and perineum as quickly and clinically as he could. Still, the little cock got a little fat. Oh no... Seth thought, just as Master seized him by the hair and forced him down. Seth tried to plead with Master with his eyes, like any puppy dog would, but Master was unmoved.

"I've got two words for you...SUCK IT!" He grabbed Seth's head with both his hands and forced him to do just that.

It wasn't the first time so Seth no longer had to fight the urge to gag, but it didn't get any less degrading. It always went as long as Master wanted it to last; high and mighty Master struggled to get a full erection, let alone reach orgasm. Age and history of steroid use had left him with prostate problems and hormone imbalances. Again, Seth felt an air of superiority, even with a limpish peanut dick in his pretty mouth.

After only a few minutes, Master released him. "Get me a towel."

Seth did as he was told, and wrapped a second towel around his hips. He dried Master's back, but Master did the rest himself, and ordered Seth to lay out his clothes for the office; Wednesdays were the usual casual days, and from Master's walk-in closet Seth put together a nice outfit of charcoal gray dress pants, a white and gray striped dress shirt, and soft loafers. From the built-in drawers, Seth pulled out a pair of charcoal gray socks, and snickering, a gray bikini brief from a drawer of many. Master seemed to have a fetish for bikini briefs and thongs; he had dozens and dozens in every color of the rainbow, some were lacy and very feminine. Seth would never forget struggling not to laugh one afternoon while spotting for Master, who was bench pressing wearing nothing but a silky blue thong trimmed in white lace and a red ribbon rose.

But, with Master doing his grooming in the bathroom, Seth was safe to chuckle. He made the bed and straightened his own things. He hung his lead and harness neatly, and folded his blanket. He sat down on his mattress and waited for Master to come out of the bathroom.

Finally, he did, and ordered Seth to get ready. Seth slipped into the smelly master bath with relief. It was the only unbound, unsupervised alone time he enjoyed in his servitude, and even Master taking a shit (sometimes not even flushing), right before leaving didn't spoil the bathroom sanctuary for Seth. He'd simply spray Febreeze and take his sweet time with his grooming. Shit, shave, but he usually opted for the Jacuzzi tub rather than the shower. Unless, of course, he was told to hurry.

Not this morning, though. He was free to soak in the bubbles until the bathwater cooled. The bathwater itself he scented with blue salts smelling of a tropical shore. But too soon, the water cooled, and Seth reluctantly drained the tub and toweled off. He cleaned the bathroom and got dressed in his uniform; the orange jail shirt and black boxer briefs.

"Seth! Seth, get your lazy ass in here!" Master called him from the kitchen.

Seth hurried to Master and froze in shock. The kitchen, which Seth had left clean and sparkling, had been defiled.

"I was still hungry, so I thought I'd get myself a bowl of cereal. I'm afraid I... made a bit of a mess." Master stifled a laugh.

Seth looked at the Lucky Charms and milk all over the counter, table, and floor, and grew red from impotent anger, which dissolved into despair. Tears welled in his eyes as he soaked up the mess on the table with paper towels. He sniffled.

"Are you crying?" Master demanded.

The tears spilled over, but Seth said nothing. If he spoke, he'd say something so ugly Master would destroy him, literally or just career-wise, but to Seth, career was everything. He had to be the best of the best, he would die if he had to wrestle in TNA, abroad, or even worse in some regional outfit.

"You are crying, aren't you?" Master asked, but his tone was mock disbelief, devoid of any caring.

Seth stayed mute, working on the mess Master had made on purpose. The tears continued to fall. He wished Master would leave him alone.

"Honey, come on, we've gotta go," called Mistress to Master.

"What about stupid Seth?" he asked her.

"I guess he can come along. You know how everyone always wants to see the champ," Mistress replied.

"You hear that, Seth?" Master asked. "Stop crying and get ready to go to the office."

Mistress laughed. "He's crying?" She looked to confirm it. "Fuck yeah he is...Seth, there's no crying in wrestling! Hunter, what the hell did you to him?"

"Nothing out of the usual," Master replied, and he and Mistress shared a laugh.

"Maybe a day at the office isn't the best thing for our champion," Mistress pondered.

"No, Ma'am, I want to go, please, Ma'am!" Seth begged.

Master and Mistress whispered back and forth for what seemed like an eternity to Seth.

"Okay, you can come along," Mistress said in the same tone she would use with a dog. "Hurry up and get dressed up nice. Don't forget your belt."

Seth hurried back to the master bedroom to dress in his best for the office, all in black, dog tags hidden beneath his dress shirt. He didn't forget his championship belt, either. Nor would he forget what it symbolized, ultimate success.

"There now, don't you look nice? Mistress half-complimented. "Do you need to go outside and go potty before we leave?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Okay, get in the car."

Seth loved going into work now that he was the champion, he was the center of attention. Also, he and his owners had agreed to a suspension of BDSM in the workplace. He was as free as they were. He went out for a late lunch with Joey and Jamie, and posted about it on Instagram. He posed with a few random fans for pics, and signed a few autographs. He hung out with the writers and peeked at future storylines. He stopped by video editing and watched some commercials featuring himself.

Too soon, it was time to go to a late dinner in town. Just him and The Authority, in a private dining room at an upscale steakhouse. Due to the intimacy, and the amount of liquor his owners consumed, some of the BDSM tendencies kicked back in, and Seth was ordered to drink, too.

He took it slow, but by the time the meal was over, he was feeling warm, fuzzy, buzzed. He excused himself.

"No, I don't think so," Master said.

Seth froze. His bladder, which felt like a hot ball, due to the alcohol, cramped. Seth winced, and sat down quickly, and rocked back and forth.

"I don't know, Hunter. I don't want him peeing all over the car," Mistress ventured.

"Good point," Master agreed. "You may be excused," he told Seth.

"Thank you, Sir." Seth hurried from the room, blushing.

Master and Mistress just looked annoyed. When Seth came back to the table, Mistress was signing a credit card slip for the check.

Time to go back to where he'd been staying since he'd won the title. He couldn't think of it as "home". He had a pretty good feeling he was going to have a bad night. When Mistress drank, she got horny, and mean. The combination never bode well for Seth. Since Master was unable, Seth would stand in for whatever Mistress wanted with a cock, while Master watched, or helped, or …

In the master bedroom, Seth was ordered to undress. He did, his heart beating hard. He was scared. He felt a drop of cold sweat run down his spine, all the way to the crack of his ass. He knew it was going to hurt. His bladder throbbed and he felt like he was going to be sick, and nothing to do with the liquor. Master locked him into his harness, but rather than hooking up his lead, Seth was ordered to drink three shots.

Seth wanted to protest, he really didn't want to drink any more. He didn't want to get sick or have a hangover, which would lead to him being off all day tomorrow, no good during rehearsal or while practicing his lines. But, he knew that any resistance would only make his experience worse.

The shots did numb him, and he did not turn down the beer offered to help wash them down, a rare mercy from Master. But, the reprieve was short-lived. Before he knew it, he was bent over a dressing table chair and handcuffed to it. Seth relaxed a little; he could handle spankings, paddlings, even the belt. Fortunately, Mistress didn't go further than that, at least she hadn't yet.

"You've been a bad boy, Seth!" Mistress was clad in thigh-high black leather boots and black leather teddy, and carried a paddle, a wooden one like those used for hazing in frat houses everywhere. Seth felt it slam down on his ass, but with the numbing effect of the booze, he didn't feel that part so much. What hurt was his bladder. He'd broken the seal, and every paddle whack made him struggle not to piss. He had to squirm and try to pinch his cock between his legs.

Mistress noticed. "Awww, do you have to pee?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That's too bad, you'll have to wait."

"But, Ma'am-"

"Butts are for kicking. Hunter is making drinks now, he'll take you out in a bit." She gave him another whack.

"Please, Ma'am, stop," Seth begged, as he tried not to piss.

Mistress giggled. "Stop? But, I'm just getting started."

Master brought the drinks.

"Thanks babe," Mistress said. "Dog needs to go out."

"Bet he does," Master laughed drunkenly.

Seth whimpered. He really didn't want to piss on the carpet, the punishment for that would certainly be something painful as hell, but bound to the chair, it was going to happen. His cock burned with the piss that threatened to leak out, and he knew he could only hold on for another minute, maybe two.

"Please, Sir, Ma'am! I don't want to piss on the floor, and I'm about to, please don't make me piss on the floor!" Seth begged desperately.,

"You'd better not piss on the floor!" Mistress snapped. "Hunter, take him outside!"

"Alright, alright." Master unlocked the handcuffs and Seth immediately held himself and sat back on his heels. He looked down in amazement at his swollen bladder. No wonder he was sheer seconds from pissing all over the place.

"I really can't hold it, Sir!" Seth cried. "I won't make it outside!"

Mistress laid out a puppy pad where the chair had been, and Seth pounced on it. He tried to piss slowly, to be neat about it, but his poor bladder wanted to explode. The puppy pad was soaked in no time. Lucky for Seth, Mistress had laid out another, because he couldn't stop pissing. He could slow the flow, but his body wanted the piss out, and pushed it out in huge gushes. The second puppy pad was reaching capacity. Mistress put down a third, and a fourth, and stood back, shaking her head.
Seth was finally able to regain control over himself, and by the time he reached the fourth pad, he took a moment to recover. He sat back on his heels. He knew there was still more piss left in him, but his bladder hurt.

"Are you finally done?" Mistress asked.

"No!" Seth almost snapped, but he caught himself, and tacked on a "Ma'am".

"Hurry up, I'm not done with you, yet."

Of course not, Seth thought, bitterly as he made his sore bladder work somewhat, in short spurts. He thought it was finally empty, but because he'd been made to drink, he knew he'd need to go again soon, unless he drank some water.

Seth went to get the trashcan, and sneak a glass of water. He cleaned up his mess, and took the trashcan back to the kitchen, sneaking in another glass of water. The water made him feel a lot better. He wasn't as drunk, and his somewhat queasy stomach was calmed.

When he went back to the master bedroom, he was immediately handcuffed by Master, and led to the Tool Shed. Seth noticed Master's femme black thong, mesh with floral embellishments, and almost laughed aloud. In the Tool Shed, Seth was led to the ring (a smaller version of where he was a star) and handcuffed to a ring post, between the middle and lower turnbuckles. He could sit, but not stand.

Mistress approached, vibrating tool in hand, lube in the other. She dripped the ice-cold lube into Seth's lap, and began using the tool on him. Seth got hard. "Good boy," Mistress praised, and straddled him.

She rode him, and Seth did his best to think sexy thoughts, but it was hard to stay hard when his boss was twisting his nipples, slapping his face, and pulling his hair. Her nails scratched deep into his shoulders. Seth did not enjoy pain. All he could do was hope she came soon, and to help, he adjusted his hips, thrusting the entire length of his cock into her.

That did the trick. Mistress cried out, raked her nails down his back, and Seth felt her orgasm. Master watched with approval, stroking his man-pantied crotch. Seth lost his erection immediately.

Cold and businesslike, Mistress got up and wrapped herself in a silk robe. It was a symbolic gesture, she was done for the night. But, Master wasn't.

"I can't cum, but all those drinks made me need a piss. I think I'll use Seth," Master decided.

"Oh! That's a great idea!" Mistress exclaimed. "I was going to go to the bathroom, but why bother? I can piss on Seth, too!"

Laughing, Mistress crouched on the bottom rope, grabbed the top rope to steady herself, and pissed right on Seth's chest. "Come on, Hunter! This is fun!"

Mistress's piss ran down his chest and belly off into the ring. Master, not wanting to step in it, chose to piss on Seth's face, from the steel steps. Master's piss ran into the scratches on Seth's shoulders and made them sting, and once Master realized that, he concentrated his stream there, instead.

Master uncuffed him once they'd finished pissing on him, and took off his harness. "Since you've been a good boy, you don't need to sleep in this tonight."

"Thank you, Sir." Seth was truly grateful, the harness was terrible to sleep in.

"Clean up your mess and go to bed."
"Yes, Sir. May I shower, Sir?"

Master considered it. "I guess so. After you clean up your mess."

"Yes, Sir." Seth cleaned up the Tool Shed, showered, and happily went to bed on his futon mattress. He fell asleep right way, dreaming of greatness.