r/Femrotica

A follow up to my previous story. This time my ex-girlfriend Kylie wants to see me suck cock in order to earn release, but only after I find myself in an uncomfortable situation at a bachelor party. This story is part of my latest collection. The final part of my adventures with Kylie will be posted in a week or so.

I didn’t hear from Kylie for almost two weeks and when she did it was just a quick check in. I asked her about a new task to be unlocked again and she just said ‘not yet’ and stopped replying.

A week or so after that, it was a friend’s twenty-first birthday and he had a big day planned. I hadn’t had a chance to think about it between work and my predicament. Being caged with little contact and no idea when I would be unlocked was a new level of intensity for me - it had stopped feeling like a game and started taking over my whole being. It made me constantly horny and submissive, craving any stimulation whatsoever. I wore panties everyday and used my largest dildo on myself in my free evenings, not because I had been told to but because I craved it.

When the birthday night out came around, I was little more than a quivering wreck. I’d managed a caged orgasm from anal play a few days before but it had made things worse, rather than better. I almost cancelled, but instead decided I would power on through. I showered, groomed and put on a decent outfit, including wearing boxers for the first time in weeks and headed out to meet the others.

We had a few drinks and some food and moved onto a small nightclub. There was a lot of laughter and banter and I got quite tipsy, which helped me forget about the cage. We headed on from the club, but I’d missed the conversation to decide where we were going and just followed along with everyone else until we stood outside the blackedout front of a strip club. I was hesitant, but everyone else was keen so I piled in with them, paid at the door and grabbed a drink from the bar.

I tried to keep myself to myself as the girls were moving around trying to encourage men to buy private dances. Their skimpy outfits were divine and I could feel myself leaking non stop in my cage, especially whenever any of them came to speak to me.

I turned down offers to buy dances a couple of times, but there was one girl that I couldn’t take my eyes off. Slim and pale with jet black hair, with a dyed red streak; she wore fishnets stockings, garters, some black laced panties and a very sexy black and red corset. She had some tattoos and piercings and was very much the type of girl I liked. I watched her from a distance as she spoke with various patrons, including Dan, one of my closest friends.

 Shortly after speaking with him, she meandered her way across the bar towards me with a sultry smile on her face. She didn’t say anything, she just took me by the hand and smiled, leading me towards the private area.
‘Umm, I’m not buying a dance,’ I stammered.

‘It’s okay,’ she replied. ‘It’s paid for.’ Her voice was incredibly sexy and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. If she’d not been holding my hand, I would have been shaking. ‘Your friend said it’s a thank you for all the times you’ve been his wingman.’

I tried to protest, but she put her fingers to my lips and led me through a curtain into a private booth, where she sat me down and set some music.

She danced in front of me, swaying her perfect hips, bending over seductively and giving me sultry looks while I just sat leaking in my cage, wave after wave of precum was trickling into my boxers in a torrent, turning them into a sticky mess.

She climbed on top of me, straddling me and thrust her perfect body backwards and forwards. She slowly unclipped the corset and pressed her incredible breasts into my face as she swayed to the rock-metal anthem in the background. She ran her hands down my jean clad thighs as she stood back up and moved seductively around the small floor area in the booth. I trembled and gasped, she hooked her thumbs into her panties, lowered them slightly and raised them. She turned the other way, bent over in a dramatic fashion, the perfect curves of her ass adding to both my delight and discomfort. She stood and slowly lowered her black lace knickers to the floor, flicking them up onto my lap with a skillful kick.

She turned around and climbed back on top of me, her perfectly trimmed pussy inches from me - her gorgeous body pressed gently against me. She put her hands on the wall behind me and swayed backwards and forwards and side to side. The heady smells of her pussy, her perfume and her perspiration filled my head and I felt like I was going to faint.

She picked up the panties from my lap and gently pressed them into my face, stuffing them into my open mouth with a smile before giving me a kiss on the cheek and standing up.
‘You can keep them,’ she said with a wink before she scooped up her corset and disappeared through the curtain and presumably into the backstage area.

I sat there for a long moment recouperating, pressed the panties into my pocket and headed back to the bar, bracing myself for the inevitable banter that would be coming my way.

*        *        *

I called Kylie the next day and told her all about it. She laughed incessantly.
‘Imagine if she had known!’ she said, ‘Imagine if she had known about your little cock in your little cage.’

I asked for release, she denied me.
‘This is too funny!’ she said. ‘I can’t wait to tell Cat and Becky.’
‘What do I need to do for a release?’ I asked.
‘Oh, this one is easy,’ she said. ‘You just need to take some pictures.’
'I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What of?’ I asked.
‘Well, you know how much I like big dicks? I want a picture of you with a big dick in your mouth. Then I want a picture of you with cum on your face. Only then will I unlock you.’

*        *        *

Kylie thought she was issuing me with a difficult challenge, but I was well aware of how I could achieve this task. Before she took control of me again, I’d hooked up with this guy a couple of times to give him blowjobs. He was seriously packing and had always been keen to get sucked off - so I dropped him a message that evening about hanging out and he told me he was free the following night after work and I could go round for a smoke and blow him.

The problem was, this guy was a bit of a dick and really got off on humiliation. I knew that the flat cage and telling him about being locked up by my ex would really get him going and it certainly did. We smoked a joint together while I told him my latest adventures. He insisted on seeing the cage and laughed and called me a ‘sissy bitch’ and ‘pathetic’ a few times before getting his cock out.

He sat back on the chair and had me kneel before his legs. I gave him my phone so he could take some pictures and videos for Kylie. I went to take hold of his cock but he pushed me away.
‘Beg for it,’ he said, holding up the camera.
‘Please let me suck your big cock,’ I pleaded.
‘You can do better than that.’
‘Please daddy! Please, I need to suck it, please!’
He laughed and gave me a nod.

I wrapped a hand around his huge shaft and began licking the head. I heard the click as he took a photo, I took him in my mouth and sucked on the head, taking as much in as I could, massaging with my tongue. He let out a soft, long moan as I hit the right spot and I felt him grow even harder inside my mouth.

‘Who is Kylie?’ he interrupted after a couple of minutes.
I removed his cock from my mouth, ‘My ex,’ I told him before turning my attention to his balls, which I licked and sucked on.
‘She’s sending you a video call.’
‘Mmmm?’

‘Hi, who is this?’ I heard Kylie’s voice out of my phone speaker.
‘I’m Ben,’ he replied. ‘I’ve got your ex licking my balls right now.’
Kylie laughed.

I glanced up and saw Ben pointing the camera right at me, I smiled, ran my tongue up his shaft and took his head in my mouth, stroking slowly with my big hand, getting him as sloppy as I could.
‘Wow,’ Kylie said, ‘Looks like he is doing a good job.’
Ben chuckled, ‘Yeah, he’s a good little bitch.’
‘Oh I know.’

Although I could feel the precum oozing from me,  I concentrated all of my attention on Ben’s cock, I worked it good, letting him slide down my throat as much as I could, using my tongue on his glans, licking his head while I stroked, feeling his precum mix with my saliva - all with Kylie watching on video.

Ben and Kylie exchanged comments from time to time, it was clear Kylie was masturbating while watching and Ben seemed to be enjoying that, though I had no idea how much she showed him.
‘I’m going to cum soon,’ he told her after a while. ‘Where do you want me to do it?’
Kylie made a thoughtful sound, ‘I think he deserves a facial, and then you can make him walk home with your cum all over him.’

Ben laughed, stood up over me while I knelt beneath him with my tongue out.
He stroked himself past the edge and sprayed me with his thick, hot cum. His first squirt hit me on the forehead and on my glasses, the second on my cheek and lips, the third and fourth straight into my mouth and the final dribble landed on my t-shirt.

He let Kylie get a good look at me, still kneeling and covered in cum. They both laughed, he sat back down and handed me my phone.
‘Off you go,’ he said, ‘I’ll call you next time I need target practice.’
I stood to my feet, cum dripping onto my lips, down my chin and onto my already messy top.
‘I want to see you do your cum walk,’ Kylie said, still on the video call.

I walked out of Ben’s flat, down the corridor and stairs and onto the street, Kylie chuckling and cheering to herself, my face sticky and my top now covered in the cum that was dripping onto it. I walked past a group of students outside a shop, who gasped and laughed, much to Kylie’s enjoyment.

‘Good boy,’ she told me. ‘You did well and I will come over tomorrow for your release,’ before she left me to complete my walk of shame alone.

 *        *        *

Kylie’s visit was delayed by a couple of days, which only added to my woes. When she came over, she was dressed up ready for a night out.
‘I’ve not got long, I’m supposed to be on my way to meet the girls.’

I stripped, let her unlock me and knelt in front of her, expecting to cum on her feet again.
‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘I want to see you get another facial.’
She made me lay down on the floor, with my back against the sofa and my legs in the air - so that my cock was over my face.
‘Off you go,’ she said.

It took me a while to get hard enough to jerk effectively, due to the effects of the cage and my humiliating position, but before long I was in a nice rhythm, with Kylie offering words of encouragement.
She glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to go in a minute, if you can’t cum soon I’ll have to lock you back up.’
I sped up and within a few seconds began spraying cum into my hair, face and chest.

Kylie laughed and clapped her hands, as I collapsed to one side.
‘Well, that will get my night off to a good start,’ she said as she locked me back up.
I looked up at her sheepishly. ‘When will I get unlocked again?’
‘I’m not sure. I’ll have to think of your next task. I might ask Becky and Cat if they have any ideas.

We got back to my apartment. When I stepped inside and reached to turn the lights on, Lily's hand reached out to stop me. Taking my other hand and interlacing her fingers with mine, she pressed me back against the wall, holding my hands above my head. She had on heels- if I hadn't noticed in the bar, I noticed now- and they were nothing flashy or extravagant, she didn't tower over me or anything like that, but they were just a nice black pair that went well with her stockings, and they made quiet clicking sounds on the hallway's wood floor. Once she had me against the wall and made it clear that I shouldn't move, she kissed me softly on the mouth, once. One of her stockinged thighs pressed warmly against the front of my jeans, against the cage. Combined with the kiss, it felt so good but also so frustrating that I groaned out loud, which caused her to smile in the darkness.

"Can I see it now?" she asked, abruptly breaking away from me and reaching for the lamp.

"Of...of course", I said, beginning to follow her over to my couch. The area was within the illumination of the lamp, though much of my familiar apartment was still in shadows. After two steps, however, I felt dizzy and had to reach out a hand to the wall to steady myself.

She was already perched on the couch, but looked over at me with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Chris", she asked, "are you okay?"

I tried to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths before stepping away from the wall. "I'm fine", I said. "It's just...you're really doing a number on me."

She smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

I made my way to the middle of the floor and began to fiddle with my belt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa", she laughed, holding up a hand. She was sitting back against the couch, legs crossed. "Someone's eager. Shirt first, Chris. Take it slow, remember? Just like the bases?"

I still wasn't able to stop my hands from trembling; but as I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, I felt grateful that I'd been running a little recently, doing a few push-ups here and there. I certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a male model, but I felt my chest was presentable enough. As I removed my blue dress shirt, I tossed it on the floor to the side.

"No no", she said quietly, wagging her finger. "Fold it, Chris. You don't want it to get all wrinkled."

I bent down, certain that the real reason was not tidiness in itself but that she wanted to see me obey. I realized that I enjoyed doing so.

"Attaboy", she whispered.

I stood up, still unable to stop the trembling, and removed my belt with as much deliberation as I could manage, then slowly unbuttoned my pants. She had just been touching me, had kissed me, but now there the gulf of only a few feet between us seemed unbridgeable. There was no way I would cross it without her permission, and we both knew it. I unzipped my jeans, brought them down to my ankles and stepped out of them, then folded them carefully and placed them on top of my shirt.

"Good boy", Lily whispered. "You learn so fast."

Finally I stood there in my boxers only, though I already felt naked.

Her expression was intent, playful, filled with anticipation. Her legs were crossed and one of her feet, heels still on, was moving slowly, hypnotically (to me, anyway), from side-to-side. "Boxers, too", she said.

I took a deep breath and then finally slid my boxers down to reveal the sleek-looking blue silicon cage. She couldn't help it- she exclaimed and clapped, her face an expression of pure joy. It was the kind of cage without bars or little openings, so my penis was almost entirely covered, as well as restrained. It wasn't particularly high-tech or expensive, but it did the trick and she seemed to like it. For what felt like at least a minute, at any rate, she stared at it with something like wonder. Her voice was soft, almost awed. "That's so beautiful, Chris. And you can't...you know, orgasm inside of it or anything like that?"

Her reaction was having a powerful effect on me, and it was all I could do to answer in coherent words. I shook my head no. "No. Some guys apparently can, although I don't think it feels very good for them. But I can't."

"Yay!" She clapped again. "That's so great. Whoever designed these should get a Nobel Prize or something. Do you think it was some cute girl?"

I groaned. "Sometimes I fantasize about that."

"Come here", she responded.

Obediently, trembling harder now, I took a few steps forward.

She looked up at me, smiling wickedly. "May I?"

In reality it was a rhetorical question, but she was going to make me answer.

"Of...of course", I stammered.

And then she took the cage lightly in one hand, beginning to caress it. My penis, still mostly flaccid as a result of the cage, nevertheless throbbed and struggled for freedom, pressing against its confines. I felt one of my knees go weak. I might have whimpered as I dropped to one knee as well, but it was hard to be certain. I felt drunk.

She smiled, meeting my eyes. "Are you okay? That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, Lily", I breathed deeply. "Not at all. It just...it just feels good. Very good." I blushed.

"Oh. How interesting. So you can still feel something through the cage?" She had put her face very close, inspecting, as if she might kiss it.

"Yes."

She smiled evilly. "Just not enough to cum."

I shook my head sadly.

"That's really too bad, isn't it?" Then she did kiss the tip of the cage, before letting it go, and I cried out again. In the blink of an eye I was pressing one hand into the carpet, trying to stop myself from humping the air. I hoped my neighbors weren't around.

"Come here", she said, patting the spot on the couch next to her, "come join me."

I tried not to seem too eager; but within seconds our bodies were intertwined, hers on top of mine, and I was kissing perhaps more passionately and intensely than I had ever known I could, showering her arms and her shoulders and her neck and her mouth with worshipful kisses. Her eyes were fluttering and (unless I'm flattering myself) the expression on her face suggested pure bliss.

It wasn't just that kissing had become more exciting than I'd ever known it to be- but everything about her, every little cute gesture of her hands, every word, every expression, was suddenly magnified by 100. Her femininity was so powerful that I could barely stand it.

It was a curious feeling to be so close to her with the cage on, both intensifying my frustration and at the same time (or so it seemed) ameliorating it slightly. I almost let myself get completely lost in the feeling, and convinced myself that it was nothing but pure bliss for me as well...but at the same time, I was conscious of her legs on top of mine, the warmth of her thighs against my cage, my inability even to get hard, and it was driving me crazy. It was hard to even know what I would want, if I did have the choice. Get the keys, or just stay like this? It was an impossible decision. Which was partly why I was glad it was hers, not mine.

"It's just such a shame we're limited to two bases", she whispered, as I kissed her neck.

She seemed to be realizing that reminding me of my imprisonment was a surefire way to prompt another groan of agony, which in turn prompted more giggles from her.

"Well, we're not really", I said.

"Oh, that's right", she replied, as if she'd forgotten. "Your keys. Your main one and your spare. They're here, aren't they?"

I nodded, once again trying not to seem too eager. "May I go get them...?"

She tilted her head back and appeared to give it some thought. But even as she did, there was a part of me that wished I hadn't brought it up, and was almost a little disappointed when she said, "Mmm-hmm. Fetch them for me."

The part of me that wasn't disappointed moved to bolt down the hallway to my bedroom.

"Uh, Chris?" she asked.

I froze. "Yes?"

She made a gesture with her fingers. "On your knees, boy. Fetch. I sure hope they're not high up on a some dresser or something like that."

They were, actually, up about four or five feet on my dresser, and I had to rise into a kneeling position and stretch my arm to reach them. Despite the part of me that was loving our chaste makeout session, I had more than sufficient motivation.

When I crawled back through the hallway to where she was waiting on the couch, legs crossed and swinging slowly side-to-side once more, I extended my hand holding both keys.

Her eyes lit up, but she didn't take them. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the way her stockings hugged her long legs, the point at which her skirt ended and (as far as I could tell from my POV, anyway) her legs began.

"Wait, wait", she said. There was a very cute and playful expression on her face as she appeared to improvise. The hottest thing about that, I think, was that it suggested that what she was going to tell me to do was somewhat arbitrary. That she wanted to see me obey her momentary whims.

"I want you to, um...let's see...present them to me", she said.

I got into a kneeling position in front of her, her heeled foot swinging from side to side at about the height of my chest, and I attempted to clear my throat while affecting not to stare.

"What should I...say?", I asked.

She shrugged. "Anything you like. Just something to...commemorate the occasion."

I was trembling harder than I had been at any time before, and it was genuinely difficult to get the words out. My dick straining against the cage was now a given, and a constant. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been completely soft, but nor could I get even halfway hard. I cleared my throat again and. "Um. Miss...Lily?"

"Eyes up here, Chris." She indicated her eyes. "Not on my legs. Begin again."

I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back because it seemed like the best place for them. I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Miss...Miss Lily?"

She smiled with anticipation, her foot still swinging back and forth, the heel once or twice brushing my chest. "Yes, Chris?"

"Miss." I brought my hands in front of me and used one to cup the other, which held both keys. "I hereby present to you the, um...the...keys to my pleasure."

Maintaining eye contact with me the entire time, she reached forward slowly and took them in one hand, her red nails tickling my palm. Keeping our two hands clasped, she leaned forward even more and kissed me once, just as she had near the door, softly on the mouth. Again, my whole lower body trembled like an earthquake had hit it, and for a second I thought my erection was going to burst through the cage. Red fingernails now brushed my chin, and stroked my hair. Still looking into my eyes, she said, "Thank you, sweet boy. I promise to take good care of them."

And with that she sat back, reached for her purse, dropped the keys inside, closed her purse (it sounded like something snapping shut), and tossed it in the direction of the door. She smiled widely at me and again patted the couch next to her, indicating that I should sit. "There", she said. "Now they won't distract you this whole time."

I could only imagine the look of disappointment on my face, and looking back I believe I made a sound of surprise and despair never before uttered in the annals of human history.

"But...", I began.

"So what do you want to do now? Watch a movie or something?" She smoothed her skirt with her hands, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, and then maintained a straight face for a few more seconds before bursting into giggles. "I mean, I guess I have a pretty good idea...but you know that's not going to happen, don't you, Chris? We don't need those keys to have fun." She patted the couch again, and I obediently moved to sit next to her.

Pushing me back into a reclining position again, she stretched herself on top of me. One of the straps of her dress came down from her shoulder, but she quickly pushed it back up. Her breasts pressed down on my ribs, and she rested her chin against my chest, smiling at me. At the same time, her legs brushed against mine. How had I ever been so mad as to think I would prefer to stay caged? Why couldn't we play with the keys?

She kissed my chin and smiled, propping herself up on my chest with her elbows and looking down at me. "You don't mind if I hold on to the keys, do you?"

"No, Lily. I mean...Miss Lily, if I can call you that?"

She grinned. "I like that."

"I...I like that you have them, Miss Lily", I admitted. "But..."

I didn't know how to finish my sentence. I didn't have an argument. But a part of me was convinced that she just didn't understand! I needed to cum!

Another part of me knew that she understood perfectly.

Eyes shining, she smiled and kissed me on the chin again, laughing at how tongue-tied I was. Then she kissed me on the nose, once. Again, I felt the warmth of her thigh against the maddening plastic of the cage. "But what, silly boy?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. How could I express how badly I needed her? "I just...I just want you so bad right now."

"Yeah." She moved upwards to kiss my neck, with just the slightest hint of teeth, and I pressed even harder against the inside of the cage. "Yeah", she repeated quietly, kissing me and laughing. "I kinda noticed that."

I groaned. It was all I could do.

"I guess you like me", she continued.

"Understatement of the century."

She laughed. "I can't help if it's easy. You boys. All a pretty girl has to do is smile at you, and next thing you know you're handing over your precious keys..."

She sat up now, straddling me, face flushed and happy. Her hands on my chest.

"I guess there is the other base..."

"The other...?"

I was having a hard time remembering. Our conversation in the bar seemed like a lifetime ago.

"You remember. Getting to see a girl naked! Or maybe not naked, but at least in her lingerie. I actually have this pretty nice black lacy thing on tonight. That's on top. And...I don't know if you noticed, but my stockings are connected to a garter belt. It looks pretty hot, if I do say so myself..."

I felt hope run through me, and I looked up at her pleadingly. I couldn't help whimpering. "Please?"

Still straddling me, her face radiant and her brown hair splashed over her shoulders, she reached behind her, the way a woman does when she wants to unhook her bra. She echoed my pleading. "Please? Please what, Chris?"

"Please Miss Lily...please." I had never wanted anything so badly in my life. "May I please see your...your lingerie? See what's underneath your dress?"

She paused, took her hands from behind her back, leaned forward again and stretched her legs down towards mine, kissing my chest in the process. Then she adopted the same posture as before, propping herself up on her elbows, and fixed me with her gaze. It was perhaps the cutest she'd looked all night.

With her red painted nails, she brushed her brown hair out of her face and shook her head slowly. "No...no...no." She smiled. "No Chris, I don't think so. Remember what I said about the bases? I want to make you go slowly. So slowly it drives you mad. So lingerie isn't for you. My bra and panties aren't for you. Not tonight. And maybe not for many more nights! Who knows, we might even have to leave you...what was that term? Stranded on first?"

All I could do was tilt my head back and close my eyes, groaning once more, caught between pleasure and agony. She laughed so hard and so happily that I wasn't sure she was ever going to stop.

But finally, she did. "Cheer up", she said brightly, kissing me again. "You told me first base was underrated."

"You're wearing one, aren't you?"

I felt something close to panic rush through me, and turned in my seat to find a woman sitting at the stool next to mine. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and was wearing a sleeveless red dress that ran to just above her knees. In the somewhat shadowy lighting of the pub, I caught a glimpse of black stockinged legs. Her nails were painted a deep red that matched her dress. I met her eyes with an expression that must have betrayed all of my panic; because as I did, she put her hand to her mouth and laughed, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ha-ha! I don't know what I'm saying. I mean, I don't even know you!"

There were a lot of people sitting at the tables spread throughout the cavernous beer garden, but only a few of us up here at the bar. The bartender, a nice-looking blonde-haired girl of about 30, was all the way at the other end, and no one seemed to have noticed my interaction with this mysterious stranger. But once I recovered from my surprise, I relaxed a little. "That's okay", I told her. "Have you had a few?" It was hard to tell.

The woman was still giggling at (I think) her own brazenness, and shook her head while she raised a mostly full glass of draught beer. "Not at all. I just...noticed you over at that table, and, well..."

I followed the general direction of her gesture. It was starting to make a little sense now. She'd indicated a table in the back where about twenty people were sitting around. I'd never been to a BDSM meet-up before. I'd sat down, made some small talk, felt a little awkward, and then wandered away. I'd realized that I didn't quite feel up to socializing; and besides, the Mets were playing. Up on the TV, their leadoff hitter was getting himself set in the batter's box.

"Ah", I said, nodding. Still, how did she...? I glanced down at my black jeans to reassure myself that no one could possibly tell. But I was still confused. "I didn't see you there, though," I said, still avoiding the question with which she'd started our interaction. "I think I would have noticed."

She smiled at that. "I was hiding at that other table", she said, pointing. "Waiting and watching like a creeper. Lost my nerve. But it didn't seem like you really knew anyone in the group. You were brave to go over there!"

"Oh, it was nothing really."

"But then I saw you walk over here."

I nodded, taking a sip of my Blue Moon- mostly just to give myself a second to muster the genuine courage that I suddenly felt I needed. "I guess I was just feeling a little out-of-place", I shrugged. "You're right- just about everyone over there seemed to know each other." I met her eyes- large and brown with a hint of green (or so the atmosphere of the shadows in the bar made it seem)- and forged ahead with what I needed to ask. "Ah- you can't really tell, can you...?"

"Tell?" She looked at me blankly.

"Well, you know- you asked me if I was wearing one? You can't, like...see it, right? Through my...jeans?"

Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled with what seemed like a mixture of amusement and awe, cupping her hands over her mouth again as she laughed. She just shook her head for a few seconds. She looked like she'd found a very cute but very exotic animal out in the wild. "Oh my god. You really are?"

My leg started to tremble a little, though I couldn't really say why. I felt myself blush, and took another sip of Blue Moon to try to mask it. "I guess there's no point in trying to deny it now", I chuckled.

She laughed again, at first loudly enough that a few people down the bar glanced our way, but then she got herself under control. "Nope. No point", she said, meeting my eyes. "I really don't know what came over me. And no, don't worry, I can't see..."- she glanced downwards briefly, towards my legs- "...your, uh, little secret." Now she was looking somewhere past my glass of beer. Her voice sounded far away. "I just...I don't know, I saw you walking away from that table, I knew the meet-up was for BDSM, and I guess I put two-and-two together. Something told me...that guy's locked." This last word was delivered with more emphasis but also more quietly than the rest- she seemed to have moved past amusement, to some other emotion that I couldn't quite read. More like fascination.

"Well", I said, not making eye contact and staring at her beer perhaps in much the same way she was staring at mine, "it was a good guess. What brought you to the meet-up?"

"Hmm." She seemed to smile to herself. "That's for me to know."

"And for me to find out?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe."

"You're very mysterious. Can I at least know your name?"

She extended a hand. "Lily."

"Chris, nice to meet you."

After we shook hands, she put her feet on the floor and slid her stool a little closer to mine. Then she sat back down. "Don't worry", she said, "I'm not trying to hit on you. I just...well, I know I can't see it."

I looked around. The bar wasn't crowded, but there were still people around. "Yeah, I don't quite feel like getting arrested tonight."

"You would be getting handcuffed", she pointed out.

"That's true. But not in the context I'd prefer."

She laughed, and touched my shoulder briefly. "I know I can't see it, but could I maybe...feel it? Just for a sec?" She put her hand to her face again to stifle a peal of laughter. "God, I'm such a perv."

I looked around again. No one seemed to be paying attention to us, but I suddenly felt very conspicuous. Partly perhaps because ever since Lily had moved her stool closer to mine, I'd been pressing against the cage harder than I had been all night. I took a deep breath and, in hopes of collecting myself, I glanced up at something completely non-sexual- the baseball game- except that they were between innings, and a commercial was showing a joyful nuclear family piling into a new car. Luckily, that was sufficiently deflating, for the moment. I glanced back at Lily without quite making eye contact. I thought that if I did, I might lose it again. "Sure", I said.

A few seconds later, while I stared at my half-drunk Blue Moon, I felt a red-nailed finger tap me on the front of my jeans- once, twice- and it produced a sound that (I hoped) only she and I could hear. But the hardness of the plastic was enough to convince her, and she leaned forward over the bar, stifling a sudden fit of giggles. Meanwhile, I did my best to compose myself and not give in to the sudden insane arousal I was experiencing, which- if I had abandoned my senses- could have led to my trying to hump the bar. Finally, she met my eyes with the same mixture of amusement and wonderment that I'd noticed before. "Oh my God", she said, smiling. "I love that. That's so great. That's amazing."

Just then, the bartender wandered past, noticed our drinks were still mostly filled, and didn't intrude.

I laughed a little at her reaction, and allowed myself to move my own stool a little closer. "You act like you've just seen some rare animal."

"Well, I've never actually seen one of you boys out in the wild before. I mean...locked up and all."

"I'm glad you like it", I said. "I think."

"So..." She seemed to have gotten control of herself, and now she was quiet again, fixing me with an expression that was still amused, but also somewhat serious. "So where's the key?"

"At my apartment. Not too far away. Keys, that is."

"Oh. More than one?"

"Well yeah, I have a spare. For emergencies, that sort of thing."

She nodded. "That makes sense. It's a valuable thing you're keeping locked up." This last line was delivered with a smile, and I felt myself press helplessly against the cage again. Helpless in two senses, that is; in one sense that I wasn't getting out of there anytime soon without one of the keys, but in the other that I'd had no chance, in that moment, of not trying to get hard. Her words had been like a direct message straight to my penis. My four limbs felt loose, relaxed, and I was a little dizzy- none of which, I don't think, had anything to do with the beer.

"I suppose."

"So you just...if you don't mind my asking, do you have someone who, like, holds on to the keys, or...?"

"Ah, no, no...not at the moment", I said, keeping my voice low. "Sometimes I just put the cage on for a little while to, you know..."- I felt myself blushing again- "...to tease myself."

"How long is a little while?"

"Oh, not too long usually. I'd say the longest I've ever gone- with the cage, anyway- has been about a week."

Her eyes widened and the awe came back to her face. But at the same time, the information seemed to give her pleasure. "A week? I can't even go for...ahem." She fixed me with a mock-stern expression. "That's privileged information."

I laughed. "Wait, so you get to know how long I go, but I don't get to know how long you...?"

She stuck out her tongue. "That's right, mister. That's not the kind of thing a lady talks about."

"What a raw deal." I shook my head, still smiling, and tried not to stare at the movement of her black stockings as she crossed her legs. I'd gotten a glimpse, however, and suddenly I was once again trying very hard to break out of my tiny prison. Could she tell? I had the feeling that she could, and that she liked it (both that I was trying to escape and that I couldn't, that is), but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

We settled into what felt to me like a comfortable silence. After a few moments, I realized that she was looking up at the TV. The game was back. "So this is baseball", she said, sounding like someone who'd just arrived on Mars and discovered the detritus of an incomprehensible game.

I confirmed her statement. "This is baseball."

"Who's playing?"

"Well, it's the Mets against the Braves." My own voice sounded strange to me. There was an emotional and almost physical toll to bringing myself out of the reverie that I'd suddenly found myself in, to focusing on the real world again. "The Mets have had a pretty good season, but they have to win either tonight or tomorrow. Otherwise they miss the playoffs, and the Braves get in. I like the Mets."

She nodded. "So they're one game away from the playoffs?"

"Mm-hmm."

She moved a little closer to me, touching my shoulder again. It felt like my arm was fighting off a powerful electric current, and suddenly I could barely sit still.

"But if they don't win one of these last two games", she began, a little quieter than before, "It would be like...well, it would be like they'd gotten so close to what they wanted, and then at the last moment it was taken away from them? By the...Bears?"

"The Braves, Lily. The Bears play football. But yes, I think that would be a fair description of their...predicament."

"That sounds like it would be really frustrating", she suggested. "Not just for them, but for you."

"I think it would be. I hope it doesn't happen."

She repurposed her hand towards the task of picking up her drink, and smiled as she shrugged; as if it were a matter of total indifference to her. Which I suppose it was. "I guess we'll see."

On TV, the Mets' shortstop hit a single, and cruised into first base. "Do you remember bases?" she asked, again looking up at the TV.

"Bases...uh, what do you mean?"

"You know, when you were a teenager. Did you and your guy friends talk about bases? Like, sexual bases?"

"Ohhhhh, right. Yeah. I vaguely remember that whole concept."

"First base was..."

"I think first base was...kissing."

"Mmm." She smiled at the thought, and I casually (I hoped) pressed down hard on the edge of the bar, using all my strength. All this pent-up energy had to go somewhere. I'd managed briefly to relax inside the cage for a few moments, but I hadn't had enough time to recover. Talking about this was getting increasingly frustrating. A million thoughts were racing through my head.

"Second base was..."

I shifted in my seat, exhaled, and picked up my glass, noticing that my hand was trembling. I put the glass back down without drinking from it, not wanting to take the chance of spilling it. "Second base was...well, from a male perspective..."

She made a gesture. "Naturally."

"Second base was...well...touching a girl's breasts."

Her eyes sparkled and she touched my hand with hers. "How thrilling!" The cage suddenly felt very small.

"Indeed." I did my best to sound casual, though I wasn't sure it was working in the slightest. I'd have had to be a master thespian, which I wasn't. "Third was...again, from a male perspective, a...blowjob. I don't remember much talk of going down on a girl in the world of adolescent boys, but I guess that might have counted. I'm not sure. And home base..."

She interrupted me, fixing me with a genuinely curious look. "Do you think it should have counted?"

"What? Oh, you mean..."

She watched me, smiling.

"Well, uh...yeah, I do, actually. I mean, it's not exactly the same thing, but I think...I think there's a different kind of pleasure to be found in..." I paused a long time. "Serving."

She merely continued to watch me, the smile on her face growing. "What a sweet boy", she said, as if to herself.

I was worried I was about to break the cage from inside. I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself, but I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and my voice came out more high-pitched than usual. I coughed, cleared my throat again. "And then home base is...well...home is home."

"Self-explanatory", she agreed. "So, just going by the male perspective on sexual bases, excluding for a moment your enlightened twenty-first century views on serving, you couldn't even reach third base or home right now, could you?"

A million conflicting emotions ran through me again in the course of a few seconds. "Well, I...I'm physically capable. I would just need...my keys."

"Back at your apartment", she said, meeting my eyes.

"Yes", I answered, trying to breathe. "Back at my apartment."

"Well", she said, smiling, "I was just speaking hypothetically, anyway. Don't worry. I don't want to test your resolve." She couldn't quite get through that with a straight face, however, and she must have seen the look of disappointment that suddenly came across mine, because she started to laugh again. She reached over and brushed my hair back from my head.

Grinning and leaning closer to me, she asked, "What about seeing a girl naked? Or maybe in some cute lingerie or something?"

"That I'm capable of even without the keys", I promised, unable to keep a note of hopefulness out of my voice.

She giggled harder. "No silly, what base is it?"

I considered. "I...don't think it was a base. But now that you mention it, maybe it should've been."

On TV, the Mets got another hit, and the player on first went into an all-out sprint, rounding second and within a few seconds diving into the dirt for third.

She shook her head. "Now see, look how fast these guys are rounding the bases. Don't you think they should be going a little more slowly?"

I shook my head, but in a way that indicated agreement. I was ready to agree with just about anything she said, actually. "They're not really savoring each base", I observed. "There's no way he enjoyed second, with how quickly he ran through it."

"That's what I mean", she said. "I think guys should go slow around bases, don't you? I mean, really slowly."

"Well sometimes they don't even finish", I pointed out.

She gasped in mock horror, putting her hand to her face. "What a terrible fate!"

"I mean, this guy"- I gestured to the player who'd just hit a single to make it first and third with two outs- "could get stranded on first, if the inning ends."

She shook her head back and forth. "That would be so sad." Unable to help herself, she smiled. "Stranded on first." She repeated the phrase once more, as if she actually quite liked the idea. She reached over and brushed my hair again, and I allowed myself a quick kiss on her wrist. "Stranded on first", she said one more time. "Something about that is kind of hot, you know? Not that I'd want to keep a guy there forever." She paused, considering. "But the thought of keeping him there for a while, without knowing when he's going to be rescued...mmmm. I like taking it slow."

I had started to notice within myself a strange desire to agree with her opinions on this issue. "First base is underrated."

Her hand touched my thigh, tapped the cage again, and suddenly I had to hold on to the bar to steady myself. My toes contracted, my cage shrunk, and I had to take a few deep breaths so the other people around us wouldn't think I needed medical attention.

"I'm glad you think so", Lily said. "How far away did you say your apartment was, again?"

The next instalment of my adventures with Kylie. We'd broken up, I'd had an encounter with her friend and now I find myself back in chastity for her. You can find the previous instalments on my profile.

The months went by, I hooked up with a girl on a night out, and met a guy online who I fooled around with a couple of times. I made friends and caught up with old ones, I was enjoying my job and my flat and life was ticking by nicely. I’d get my toys out for a play sometimes and occasionally lock myself in chastity for a while, but only ever for a few days at a time. I got into self-bondage and bought a timer lock, which provided me with a lot of fun during my evenings in. An hour in a hogtie with a vibrating buttplug is a good way to defeat boredom.

Then, one afternoon at work, I had a text from my ex girlfriend/mistress Kylie, asking if I wanted to go for a coffee at the weekend. I left it for a few hours before replying that it would be nice to catch up and we made plans to meet at a coffee shop in the centre of town.

Saturday rolled around and after giving my flat a good clean and tidy, which I did every Saturday morning, I showered, groomed and chose an outfit that I thought I looked good in, hesitating before putting my underwear on. I looked at the relatively new cotton boxer shorts in my hand, shook my head and put them back in the drawer and instead put on a lacey black thong, remembering Kylie’s preference for seeing me in female underwear. I finished getting dressed, checked myself in the mirror and walked into town, giving myself plenty of time to arrive at the chosen coffee shop early.

Kylie was there only a few minutes after me, I bought her a coffee and we sat in a quiet corner and caught up. She was doing well in her final year at uni and had started looking at options for after she graduated. I told her about my job and flat and we swapped a few stories about our friends.

I bought us each another coffee and when I returned to the table with them, she smiled softly and asked me if I knew why she asked to meet up.
‘I assumed you just wanted to catch up,’ I replied.
‘Well, with your birthday coming up next week, I wanted to give you something,’ she explained. ‘Last year I took you to that dungeon, the year before I gave you that first chastity cage. I didn’t want to let this year pass without a gift.’

She placed a small box on the table, wrapped with silver wrapping paper and a red ribbon.
‘You really didn’t have to,’ I told her.
‘I wanted to,’ she insisted. ‘Open it.’

I undid the bow and unfolded the neatly wrapped paper, with a feeling that I knew what would be inside. I opened the box and, sure enough, there was a new chastity cage. It was a small, flat style and looked pretty intense. I took a deep breath and looked at Kylie with a furrowed brow.

‘Is this your way of saying you want to get back together,’ I asked her.
‘No, not at all. I have no interest in fucking you or even particularly spending long periods of time together. I just think you should be in a cage and I should have the key.’
Stunned, I stared at her speechless for a moment.
‘And you know it too,’ she said, leaning in close. ‘I saw your panties when you got up a minute ago, you know what you are.’

The whole situation was incredibly arousing and my hands were trembling slightly.
‘How long for?’ I asked.
‘As long as I feel like it. I’ll send you tasks to do, maybe have you come over and worship me occasionally. You will get release every now and then, maybe. You won’t get to fuck me though, those days are long over.’
‘What if I get a girlfriend?’
‘Then you can send her to me and she can beg for it.’
‘What if if I -’
‘No more what ifs,’ she interrupted. ‘When a decision needs to be made, I will make it. Now go to the toilet, put on the cage and give me the key like a good boy.’
I swallowed my fear and took a deep breath: ‘Yes mistress.’

It took me a few minutes in the toilet to get the flat cage on, I’d never worn one before and I was pretty aroused, which made the task difficult. When I returned to the cage, Kylie was on her phone, she looked up at me and smiled as she put her phone back in her bag.
‘Is it on?’ she asked as I sat down.
‘Yes,’ I said, handing the key to her.
She took it from me, looked at it and smiled before putting it in her bra.

‘Good boy,’ she said, standing up. ‘I guess I will see you around.’
‘Umm,’ I stammered, rising from my chair. ‘You’re going?’
‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘We’re done here. I’ll call you soon.’
She kissed me softly on the cheek, shot me a wicked grin and walked out of the coffee shop.
I sat back down in my chair, stared at the bottom of my mug and tried to process what had just happened.

*        *        *

I sent Kylie a text a few days later, trying to sound her out but appearing casual. It took her three days to reply.

‘Sorry, been busy. I’ll call you soon x.’ was all it said.

 A week later, on my birthday, she called me up and asked how I was getting on with the cage.
‘Umm, yeah, I’m getting used to it.’ I told her. ‘I’m just horny all the time.’
‘Good, that will help you focus on your tasks.’
‘What are they?’ I asked.
‘You will find out soon.’

I tried to play it cool and avoided texting her for a week or so and I was just about to crack when she sent me my first task, which involved wearing panties and a buttplug on a night out - just as she had made me do before. I fulfilled it with ease and sent her the pictures to prove it.

Christmas passed and so did New Years Eve (where once again, I was made to go out in panties and a larger plug). The weeks went by and sometimes I wouldn’t hear from her for days, weeks at a time. I learnt to be patient, wait for her instructions and fulfil them. I abandoned any notion of dating and leant into my role - even sending her flowers and chocolates occasionally, which seemed to keep her sweet.

About two months after my initial lock up, after fulfilling a plethora of minor humiliations, I got a message that explained that I had an opportunity to earn release: ‘Go out and buy yourself a girly outfit. A skirt, stockings, crop top and some shoes. I want a picture of you wearing them.’

It took me about two hours to walk into town, make the purchases, walk home and put them on. I sent her the pictures.
‘Good boy. That was quick. I’ve sent you a parcel, let me know when it arrives.’

Two days later a parcel arrived, a blonde wig, make up, a collar and a bra. I called her straight away.
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I want you to make yourself look as feminine as possible and send me a picture of you all dressed up in a public place.’

The thought terrified me and I tried to protest. She explained that this was an opportunity for release and she had no idea when the next one would be, so I complied with her orders. I shaved, did the make up as best I could and put on some panties, stockings, bra and crop top underneath jeans and a hoody. The rest of the items I placed in my bag and headed out late at night.

I walked to a city park, found a secluded spot, removed my boy clothes and put on the rest of the outfit. I set my camera to a timer, placed it on a bench and stepped back to take a picture underneath a street light. I tried some different poses and then, hearing voices, ran into some nearby bushes, hastily changing back into my boy clothes before walking home.

Kylie laughed when I told her about it and sent her the pictures.
‘Good job,’ she said. ‘I will come over yours tomorrow evening.’

She arrived about half an hour later, which I imagined was to keep me on edge. I answered the door wearing nothing but my cage, just as she had ordered and made her a drink. She sat on the sofa and had me kiss her tight clad feet and legs for several long minutes before she removed her tights, lifted her skirt and let me lick her to orgasm.

‘Good boy,’ she said, producing the key necklace I had purchased her so long ago from her cleavage, she opened it, pulled out the key and waved it around in a teasing manner while I knelt in front of her.

She ordered me to stand and put my hands behind my back. She unlocked the cage, removed the front part but left the ring and the strap in place.
‘Now kneel,’ she said.
I knelt back down in front of her with my hands still behind my back and my cock struggling to rise.
Kylie leaned back, rubbed her foot against my shaft and ran her big toe from base to tip. ‘Don’t think I’m touching it with my hands,’ she laughed playfully.

She gave my balls a gentle kick. ‘Is this what Cat did?’ she chuckled.
‘You know about that?’ I said, shocked.
‘Of course, it’s one of the reasons I locked you up again. I can’t have you going around fucking beautiful women like her.’ She kicked me again slightly harder but still playful.
‘Were you cross at her?’ I asked.
‘A little,’ she said, ‘But I made sure she made it up to me.’
‘How?’
She kicked me again, harder this time. ‘That doesn’t concern you. Now, I’m going to give you one minute to make yourself cum on my feet, then you are going to lick it up and that cage goes back on. Understand?’
‘Yes mistress.’
‘Go.’

I masturbated fast and hard and within about thirty seconds shot a huge load across Kylie’s feet, which she held under my cock. Kylie laughed and lowered her feet carefully to the floor. I looked up at her but she didn’t say anything, she just watched me and waited.

I bent down low, took a deep breath and began licking my cum from her feet, drop by drop until it was all gone and I had swallowed it all. After I was finished, she ordered me to my feet and put the cage back on and the key back into the necklace.

She stood up and went to the bathroom to wash her feet and put her tights back on while I sat waiting on the floor. When she returned, she gave me a playful headrub and told me she would be in contact again soon. I went to stand up, but she playfully put a hand on my shoulder to stop me and instead bent over to kiss my forehead.

‘Goodbye little puppy,’ she whispered.

A short summary for anyone who may have found part 6 without reading the others.

My girlfriend is wonderfully moody and prone to irrational outbursts of anger. 

She’s leaned into sexualizing this energy and when she decides to collar me, I’m not allowed to speak or wear clothes unless she decides. I’m to crawl around on my hands and knees unless I’m given tasks to do that require me to stand. 

All fours unless doing chores. 

After nearly a month-long dry spell in the bedroom, I had a moment of weakness while she was at work. I spent the morning cleaning her house from top to bottom but when I found some panties she’d been wearing while she masturbated with her wand, I was completely overcome with arousal and ended up cumming in them and hiding them in the dirty laundry. 

She was looking for a favorite shirt and found them while I was in the shower. She joined me in the shower and did very dirty things to me. At this point in the story, I’m wearing these soiled panties, plug in my ass, lying face down on a bench, and waiting for her to come back and deliver the rest of my punishment. 

I hear the door open. 

“Bark for me baby boy.” Joy in her voice. 

She said it before the door had even swung closed. I faced downwards at the cushion but could hear her quickly approaching.

“Woof…Woof!”

I barked twice and couldn’t help but let out a short, low, chuckle at the situation. She must have seen the humor in it too. Her voice was soft and smiley in reaction and I could hear the stifling of a chuckle from her as well.” 

“I knew you’d bark twice you little slut!” She was right beside me.

I felt the robe fall down over my head and upper back and the light of the room was taken away from me. 

WHAP!!

A hard one against the left side. I whimpered.

“That’s ONE!”

I could sense that she was pacing around me. The stressing of the wooden floorboards betraying her path to my ears. My eyes currently useless. 

“While I was smoking I was looking at dog beds.” She pushed a finger into the top of my neck and dragged it slowly down my spine as she walked, stopping abruptly when it reached the plug.  

“I think when I want you collared overnight..” she pushed on the plug in a slow, circular motion, sending my cock stiff and straight between myself and the leather. “..that it’s only right for you to sleep on the floor.” 

WHAP!!!

A stuttering moan from me. I realized that I was becoming dependent on the pain from the spatula. I loved it. I liked how unpredictable it was. I could see nothing and never knew exactly when it was about to strike. 

Suddenly the robe was thrown off into some corner of the room. She stood at the side of the bench where my head was situated and put both hands on my shoulders. Made a twisting motion against them and I knew to turn over onto my back. 

She craned over me. Her face upside down from my vantage. Smiling in that way that I loved to see. 

“I narrowed it down to three.” She stepped to the left side of my head and swung her right leg over the bench, slowly settling her wet pussy onto my chin. Then scooted backwards until her asshole was right against my lips. 

WHAP!

This one against the fabric of the panties guarding the middle-shaft of her cock. 

“Three.” She said it softly. 

“Eat it baby.” she spoke softly and pushed against my mouth. 

I started lapping at her asshole with what I’d soon learn was a little too much enthusiasm. 

“FOUR! five! SiX!”

She slapped my balls hard and quickly while my tongue was halfway across her hole. 

“What’s the fucking rush?! Are you eager to be back in the spare room!?” She grabbed and squeezed my scrotum. “Listening to me cum on my vibrator!?”

I shook my head lightly from side to side to say no, and started treating her asshole like I would the mouth of a date on the doorstep. 

Kissed it twice and then slower on the third, letting my tongue barely out of my lips and then retracting it to kiss again. 

She purred, removed the hand from my sack and leaned forward to squeeze at my ankles. 

“That’s it. Treat her with a little respect.” 

I kissed once more, drew the slowest possible circles around her button with my tongue and then kissed it softly again. 

She moaned slow and deep before dragging herself backwards across my face, leaving a trail of her arousal from my chin to my hair. Her feet back on the floor, she cradled my cheeks with both hands and kissed me on the forehead. 

“Roll over.” Soft and sweet. 

I did so and she put her arms on my shoulders and pulled me toward herself. I scooted until me head was off the bench and facing the floor and she picked up my hands in hers. 

“Like this.” 

I left my hands suspended and open in the air while she stepped away for a moment and then came back to out her phone in my open palms. 

“Choose a bed while I give you the last four.”

I looked down at the screen and before I could even begin to consider my options I was struck with the hardest spanking she had ever given me. 

“Seven!”

I yelped, not for the first time on this night and looked at the screen. 

There were three dog beds on her wish list. All for large dogs. I chose the blue. My favorite color.

“EIGHT!” She smacked again and I moaned and stuttered and wished that I was allowed to speak. Allowed to ask for a little mercy in the last two strokes. 

I held her phone up awkwardly, my chosen bed on the screen. 

“Put it in the cart.”

WHAP!!

I did. 

“Buy now.”

WHAP!!!!

I did. 

Relieved to have all the blows behind me, I tried to settle my breathing. My cock leaking out of my disgusting panties. I held her phone up in the air and she took it. 

“Good choice baby bear.” She patted me on the top of my head. “How do I always know what you’re going to choose?” A giggle as she walked away toward the kitchen. “You can sit up now.”

I heard the gathering of ice and the slow filling of a glass before she returned to sit on the couch across from me. She sipped and her face became serious. Sipped again and then finally spoke.

“The worst thing to me about your transgression today…” she took another sip. “..was that I didn’t even get to watch you cum on my panties.”

I hung my head a bit but still held her gaze. 

“Take them off and jerk yourself for me and cum in them again please.”

Why did she say please?

She got up and headed down the hall and I stood to begin removing the most disgusting underwear I’d ever worn. 

When she returned to her spot on the couch I noticed that she had a condom in her hand. She raised her glass of water and sipped again. 

“Let’s see it!”

She sat the glass down, leaned backwards, and started rubbing herself. Encircling her fingers around her clit and occasionally dipping two of them just a little into that wonderful hole.

I started stroking. Holding the panties underneath myself with one hand. The lubricants of the evening already applied. I was close. I’d been close since the shower.

“You can do it baby.” She was panting and rubbing herself. I knew that she never took long. She was just as horny a person as I. We were a perfect match.

“Cum for me in your nasty panties.”

The events of the evening flashing through my mind, I did just that. I moaned and grunted and made the third mess that those poor panties had seen within 24 hours, and as I was doing so, she pushed those fingers, the same two that had been in my ass not long ago, as far into herself as possible and let out a deep moan like I had never heard leave her lips. 

After returning to earth we sat for a moment looking bashfully and lovingly at each other from across the room. 

Finally she stood and walked over to me. Took the panties from my hand and kissed me, this time softly and sweetly right on the lips. 

“Thank you pea pod”

She had the condom in her other hand.

“I really needed this. I’m sorry I’ve neglected you.”

She started pushing the thrice soaked panties into the condom. 

“I know that you’re my sweet boy and I can’t believe how good you are to me.”

She stretched the rubber and twisted it around two fingers.

“You really are such a good boy.”

She tied a tight knot and bent to kiss me again. 

“But I owe you a punishment and I like to keep my word.” She gave the condom one last stretch and let it snap. 

“The plug comes out and the panties go in and they’ll stay there until you get home tomorrow to wash them.” 

She beamed. Proud of how creative her punishment was. 

“And your bed isn’t here for two days so I’ll give you a pillow and a blanket on the floor.”

Later that night, trying to find the least painful way to lay on the hard floor below the foot of her bed, I heard a sliding of a wooden drawer, and that old familiar hum of the wand.

After that second night wearing the collar our sex life hit a bit of a rough patch. 

I was more turned on than ever. Spending my days reminiscing. Thinking of the way I felt when she had taken total control. The spankings. The plug. The denial. 

One day I studied the calander in her kitchen and counted the days backwards to that last night when I slept at her feet. 

I now had a number of days to apply to my frustrations. We hadn’t had romantic or vanilla sex in weeks. 

I wanted to still feel sometimes as if I was the man in the relationship but if she preferred the collar, I would respect her wishes. I’d take whatever I could get, but I knew better than to ask when she was irritable.

Just give me something. Even a teasing and permission to jerk off would be better than nothing. 

The problem was that she just wasn’t in the mood for any of it. Her job had become a big stressor in her life. She was in a management position and was suddenly given more responsibility without a pay raise. 

I’d spend my days doing anything I could think of to make her life easier. The kitchen became my favorite chore and I kept it squeaky clean. I kept up with the trash, helped with her laundry, cleaned both toilets, and always tried to make sure there were fresh flowers in her vase. 

I did these things because I genuinely wanted her life to be easier, but it would be a bit dishonest if I said that I wasn’t also hoping to be noticed and rewarded with some intimacy now and then. Whatever form that may take. Collar or otherwise. 

One day when she came home from work in a particularly bad mood, I sat with her and listened to her talk about her work day. She worked herself up just recounting it and when she fell silent and took a hard drag from her cigarette, I suggested she could always let off a little steam and take some of her anger out on me anytime she liked. 

She smirked and I winked and for a moment thought I might get what I asked for but she laughed it off.

“I’ll think about it.” She snubbed out her smoke in the ashtray and started to stand. “It wouldn’t really be fair to use you like that unless you did something to deserve it.” She put the lid on the tray.  “Piss me off on a bad day and see what happens though.” She kissed me on the cheek as she walked past me and into the house. 

We were approaching a month without any form of sex when I finally got myself in the type of trouble “deserving” of her frustration.

We don’t live together. I stay over quite often but I still go home a few days a week. Usually our work schedules are pretty much aligned. We typically have two consecutive days off together and spend the days however we like. Lounging or running errands, maybe hit a the bar that we like to play darts at, cook dinner together ect.

This week however she was asked to switch days and work one of our precious mornings.

“I’d still like you to be here when I get home baby.” 

Her face pretending like it was a question. Both of us noticing that it wasn’t exactly that.

“Maybe you just hang out here and tidy a little while I’m working. Then I come home and you pamper me?” 

The puppy dog face. 

There are many moods to this woman and I’ve fallen in love with almost all of them. I think that she knows by now that it would make me instantly hard if she just told me sternly and exactly what to do and didn’t pretend that it was a request. But she still had this sweet way about her sometimes and I appreciate that side of her too. 

This is how I wanted to spend my day anyway and I happily agreed. 

When she woke that next morning bright and early to get ready for work, I’d set my alarm 15 minutes earlier than hers. This didn’t wake her as I was sleeping in the spare room across the hall as I often did. 

I had her coffee ready for her and I’d used the exact amount of hazelnut creamer that she likes.

I got a groggy “thank you baby” and then I kissed her cheek and told her that there was a salad in the fridge for her to take to work. 

I’d stayed up a bit later than her the night before and made it with great care. Washed and dried romaine, feta crumbles, thinly sliced strips of salami, halved baby carrots, banana peppers, and cucumber wedges. I rolled up the fancy deli turkey and sliced it into “sushi rolls” as I’d seen her do before.

I knew to leave the croutons and mini croutons (she likes both) in a bag on the side and to put the Greek dressing in a reusable ramekin for her to add when she’s ready to eat. 

Another groggy “thank you baby”.

She gave me a quick hug and I left her to have her morning routine in solitude and laid back down for another hour of sleep.

When I got up I had the place to myself. I put some music on and started a chore list while I waited on my own coffee to brew. 

kitchen
make her bed
trash to curb 
sweep and swiffer
shower/tub
gather laundry

After my morning coffee and smoke I got to work. I’ll admit that I was pleased with myself as I did so. I felt I was being such a good man to her. That not only did she deserve these services but that I was the best partner that she could ask for. Perhaps I was getting carried away with my self-praise but some amount of pride is healthy right?

I received a text from her not far into my chores. 

“Even worse than I thought today bb. Everyone is rubbing me the wrong way and getting on my every nerve. 

Can’t wait to be home with you.”

I replied telling her that she could look forward to a clean house and a foot rub and continued in my chores.  

While I was sweeping I found myself thinking on our previous adventures. Picturing her perfect pussy and remembering its taste and scent. Missing it and becoming hard. Wondering when I might be allowed to eat it again. 

My arousal overcame me and I had a naughty idea and acted on it. I drew all the shades in the house and removed all of my clothing and folded it neatly in a pile as she would ask of me and then returned to my sweeping with a full erection. I imagined she was there sitting on the couch. Fully clothed and enjoying a glass of wine. Ignoring me in my naked chores. 

I imagined she’d told me not to touch myself until my chores were done and when I had each room swept I used the swiffer to get the floors shiny and perfect. Walking and mopping backwards both to not step on her perfect floors while wet but also to wipe away any pre-cum that was occasionally dripping from her penis as I worked my way out of one room and into the next. When at last I’d hit all the hardwood, I found myself at the end of the hall next to her bedroom door. 

This seemed as good a time as any to let the floors dry and make her bed for her. I opened the door and stepped inside to see that the bed indeed needed making. 

Her wand was laying about where her waist would lie. I’d tucked her in the night before and I wondered if she’d used it last night, when I would have loved to have pleasured her myself or perhaps this morning as I was making her coffee. 

Silly as it might be to have feelings of jealousy for a sex toy, I was a bit hurt that she would prefer to pleasure herself when she knows that I love to eat her and would have asked for nothing in return. That I was right across the hall. Maybe I wouldn’t feel this way if we’d been active lately. 

I tucked the toy in the drawer where I knew it belonged and as I lifted the sheet to start and make the bed I found something that replaced these jealous feelings with pure lust. 

Tucked under the sheet and just to the right of where the wand was sitting was a pair of grey panties. I picked them up, felt the unmistakable residue. The wand often made her squirt. She would play with it over top of her panties because it was too intense directly against herself and she would almost always have some amount of ejaculate and be happy that she was wearing panties and avoiding changing the sheets. 

I brought them to my nose. 

Partly ashamed that I’d stooped to this, I closed my eyes and pulled in the scent of this wonderful woman that I’d been missing all these weeks. The sensation made my eyes flutter with warm colors behind my eyelids, made me feel true intoxication, lightheadedness. I think I could have cum without touching myself if I had an hour with these against my nose. 

I checked the clock on her bedside table, remembered my chores, and decided I had time to give myself what I felt I needed. 

The promise not to touch myself was imaginary after all. And what if I didn’t need to technically touch myself?

I finished making the bed and lay carefully atop the covers. Laid the crotch of her panties directly over my nose and reached back into the drawer for the wand. 

I put it on the lower of the two settings and gently brought it to touch me just barely below the head. Against the most sensitive part of my shaft. I inhaled the most wonderful scent in the world and was not prepared for how quickly this would make me explode. I’d made the decision to get myself off (was it a decision?) not a minute before and I was already about to cum. 

I panicked and brought the panties down from my face and used them to catch my mess just in time. 

Three and a half weeks of frustration and neglect shot and pumped out of myself and onto the fabric that my woman had used as a buffer between herself and the wand. 

I gave myself only a short moment to recover from the orgasm. 

Now I needed to move fast. I wanted to complete the chore list and hide this evidence. Wand back in the drawer, her bedroom tidy, I walked the panties into the spare room and buried them in the middle of the basket that I’d earlier used to gather her dirty laundry. I’d be washing this myself so I knew that it was unlikely she’d encounter them in the state that I’d left them. 

I left the cleaning of the tub and shower for last and decided to wash myself when I was through. I started on my my hands and knees with the magic eraser and brought a bottle of bathroom cleaner and a cleaning-specific wash cloth and then started to shower. 

While I was finishing with washing myself she came home.

I heard sounds of delight at seeing how clean I’d made her house, though I couldn’t quite make out the exact words until she entered the bathroom. 

“I had the most terrible day but seeing this clean house has made a world of difference baby.” 

She opened the shower curtain and asked for a kiss. I gave it happily and was proud of myself all over again. 

“I need a shower too peapod. Why don’t you take your time while I get some clothes? We can shower together.”

Though I was pretty much finished in the shower I didn’t mind at all to pretend that I wasn’t. I looked forward to seeing her naked and waited a few minutes in the hot water for her to return. 

It didn’t take long. 

I heard some stomping footsteps rapidly aproaching down the hall 
before the door swung open.

“SO I WAS LOOKING FOR MY COMFY SHIRT!!” she yanked the shower curtain open and shot me a stern look. Her eyes on fire like I’d seen only once before. Each hand holding something up for me to see. 

In the left were the panties I’d soiled. In the right was the collar. I started to try and explain but she yelled over me. 

“NO! Down on the floor of the tub right FUCKING now!” She dropped the panties to the floor and snapped her fingers and then pointed downwards.

I did as I was told. Kneeling first on the floor of the tub before she snapped her fingers a few more times and kept pointing downwards until I laid in my back, feet towards the shower head, suddenly not so proud of anything I’d done while she was away. 

“I trust you in my home for EIGHT hours!”

She reached toward me and fastened the collar. Her hands trembled with anger or excitement or both. 

“And you have the fucking NERVE…”

She slapped the right side of my face and then pulled her shirt and bra off faster than I’d ever seen. 

“To enter MY ROOM and jerk your fucking cock all over my panties!!!”

She yanked down her work jeans and her underwear with them and stepped into the shower to stand over me. 

Her back now blocked the water from hitting me and she stared down at me with eyes of fire. She bent and grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me to a sitting position beneath her, then pushed my head back against the shower wall. 

“Open!” She barked.

I opened my mouth and she pushed herself against my face. I’d gotten my wish after all, though not exactly how I’d fantasized about it. 

She rested her palms on the wall above me and looked toward the ceiling, breathing deep a few times and working up the comfort to do what I knew was coming. Eventually I felt the muscles of her lips relax against my own and I pushed my tongue as far under her as I could. 

She closed her eyes. “Drink and think about what you’ve done” she said in a low and whispering tone. 

Her flow of urine started into my mouth faster than I’d anticipated and some spilled down my chin before I felt the warmth of it flow down my stomach and along the folds of my skin beside my testicles. 

I wished that she would piss directly on my cock but she slowed herself and instead pushed more firmly against my open mouth and put a hand under my chin with some upward pressure. 

“All of it!” She breathed heavy now and seemed to be having a harder time pretending to be angry. “Don’t waste a drop. This may be the last time you ever have your mouth against me so savor it!”

She slapped me on the cheek and put the hand back where it was against the wall. 

I swallowed as fast as I could and stared up into those stern but fluttering eyes. Gulping down a piss that she must have been looking forward to for at least her last hour of work. I tried to tell her with my own eyes that I was lucky to be where I was, but she wasn’t looking at me.

When she finished I felt a little tremor in her legs before she stood on her toes and wiped herself slowly up and down my nose and then patted herself a few times against my forehead. Then she pushed my head downwards again to make me lay on the floor of the tub and she started to wash herself as if I weren’t there.

She said nothing for a minute while she scrubbed her body and then wrung the wash cloth out over my face. Then she pumped the shampoo bottle into her palm.  

“I can tell that you cleaned the shower baby but now you’ve gone and spilled piss all over it.” 

She lathered, massaged, rinsed, and then twisted her long and beautiful red hair. Wringing the suds directly and purposely onto my desperate boyhood.

“I thought you’d drink faster than that. I’ve seen you chug a beer.”

She stepped a bit forward and put her foot on my cock and let some of her body weight onto it as she rinsed the remainder of the suds from her head and let them drip noisily down onto my chest and stomach. 

“Clean it all over again.”

Slow and stern and evil she said it.  

“Then clean yourself and brush the taste of my piss from your dirty mouth.”

Her foot pushed harder into my penis and testicles.

“Then dry up and put on your new favorite crusty..” she stepped harder “CUMMY” she pushed harder “PANTIES!!!”

She kicked me playfully but not too cruelly in the balls. 

“…and then come to the living room.” Her tone sweet all of a sudden. 

She stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. 

“You’re going to present that cute little butt for me and I’m going to let you choose which spatula I break against it.” 

The door slammed shut.