“It's... it's my todger... it's stuck,” I mumbled, unable to make further eye contact with the elderly doctor, let alone his pretty nurse, a blonde girl in her mid-twenties with a cheeky face, pert breasts and a cute bum.

“Sorry?” asked the doctor. “I don't understand. Do you, Daisy?”

I quickly flicked my eyes towards Daisy and, in that split second, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she understood perfectly what I meant.

“No! Not a clue, doctor,” she adamantly replied, shaking her head.

The doctor sighed. “You're going to need to show us what you mean, Mr Peabody.”

“It's down here, doctor,” I explained, pointing at my groin.

“Sorry, we're medics, Mr Peabody, not tailors. We need to examine your body, not your jeans. You're going to need to get undressed.”

It was inevitable that this would be needed, but I'd put it off for as long as I could. Red-faced, I stripped, lowering my jeans and then my boxers.

The doctor's eyes shot up. “Good grief! How... how did you get that stuck on?” He turned to look at his nurse, asking, “Have you ever seen anything like this happen, Daisy?”

“No,” she responded, stifling a grin. “He could have tripped and fallen into it. Like that guy last week who fell backwards onto the shampoo bottle while showering. Some men seem accident-prone, like that.”

The doctor tilted his head, commenting, “Hmmm.... No! This is no accident, Daisy.”

I had to put him out of his misery. “It's a chastity cage, doctor,” I muttered.

“What? What's it for?” Was he really that naive?

“It... it stops me having sex... and erections.”

“Well, and I thought I'd seen everything. Have you ever heard of such a thing, Daisy?” he asked, to which she unconvincingly shook her head while biting her lower lip.

“Was it medically prescribed?” he continued.

“No, my girlfriend put it on. It was a game we played, but now I need it taken off.”

“So why don't you take it off?”

“It's locked in place. If I pulled it off, it would rip my... er... balls off, if you see what I mean.”

I wasn't sure he did, but I sensed Daisy did.

“You don't have a key then?” he asked.

I stopped myself yelling, of course, I bloody well don't, you fucking idiot. Instead, I meekly settled for, “No, sorry, doctor.”

“Can't your girlfriend take it off?”

“She's run off with another bloke and now won't answer my calls.”

“It's very sad, isn't it, doctor?” commented Daisy. She had somehow perfected a concerned expression, yet was obviously relishing every moment of my dilemma.

“You're younger than I am, Daisy, so please get down on your knees and examine it closely,” the doctor decided.

My penis gave a jolt, pushing against the steel tube as Daisy dropped down in front of me, her head level with my groin and barely inches away. She peered carefully at the device, for longer than necessary, I thought, and then felt under my balls, again for longer than called for. Some unneeded wiggling and pushing and pulling of the cage completed her lengthy examination, leaving my penis painfully pressing against the sides and ends of the narrow cylinder.

“Yes, it's definitely stuck in place, doctor,” she declared. “But with screws, not a lock.”

“Oh, good! We could get a screwdriver,” suggested the doctor.

“Naah! These screws have a special head. We won't have a screwdriver that would fit them.”

“Ah! I see,” he responded, rubbing his head. “Er... Okay... So, can't you contact the manufacturer and get the right tool, Mr Peabody?”

“They probably only deal with the original purchaser, doctor... Obviously, I'm guessing... What do I know?!” the nurse added, concealing her glee.

“She's right,” I replied, giving her a dirty look. “My girlfriend... ex-girlfriend... would have to apply. But she's blocked me. She doesn't answer calls, texts, emails... nothing.”

“It's very sad. He seems to be stuck in there forever,” Daisy unhelpfully remarked.

The doctor stroked his chin and loudly exhaled. “Well, young man,” he concluded, “I think you're going to need to consult a solicitor and take legal action against your former girlfriend. You may have to go to court.”

“A lawyer? A court? No way! How long would that take?”

The doctor shrugged his shoulders, but, needless to say, Daisy had an opinion. “It could take months... years. I tried to get a parking ticket overturned... two years later, I gave up! Cost me a fortune in legal fees as well.”

The doctor stared at Daisy in disbelief, and she gave him a sweet smile, causing him to blush.

Turning to me, he remarked, “Where was I? Look... I'm sorry, Mr Peabody, but there's nothing we can do without the tool. You could try the Fire Service. They could use brute force.” What?!

Daisy seemed to share my concerns. Grinning, she remarked, “Yes, but if it went wrong... then he'd end up back here, in A&E!” She had now given up all pretence of not loving every moment of this consultation.

“Well, I—” began the doctor, but, at that moment, his pager went off. He glanced down at it and said, “Sorry, an emergency, I need to go.”

With that, he rushed out of the room, leaving me, jeans down, facing Daisy, who was smiling. Hastily, I snatched at my boxers. “I don't know what you find so damn funny. Call yourself a bloody professional?!” I snarled.

“I can help you, but not if you're going to be nasty to me,” she quietly replied.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, taken aback by her remark. “Er... sorry... that was rude of me,” I responded. I had no idea how she could help, but I was willing to clutch at straws.

She scribbled an address on a piece of paper and passed it to me. “Come round at seven tonight.”

With no further explanation, she disappeared down the corridor in pursuit of the doctor.

oooOOooo

At 7 PM I arrived at a block of flats and rang the bell for Apartment 4. “Yes?” a disembodied voice greeted me.

“It's... it's me, Daisy. Mark Peabody.”

“Come in,” the voice said, and there was a click as the front door to the block unlocked. If only my cage could be unlocked so easily.

I made my way up the stairs, and she was already standing in the doorway to her flat when I reached it, blocking the entrance.

She was out of uniform, wearing a dark blue miniskirt and a white shirt, and, my God, she looked sexy—I felt my penis stirring.

Her breasts were not particularly large, but the shirt may have been a trifle too small and was gaping from the pressure. Between two buttonholes, I caught sight of a pristine white bra, and I found myself picturing what her boobs must look like.

My attention was held for longer than it should have been and, when I looked up, she was glaring disapprovingly at me. Not a promising start!

“Er... sorry! Er... hello, Daisy,” I said. “It's nice to see you again.”

“Uh!” she snorted. “You're all polite now that you know I can help you.”

“Yes... er... sorry, I was very stressed earlier. Please forgive me.”

“You should always be nice to people, whatever the circumstances, Mark. I am!” Hmm, not sure about that, I thought to myself. “How long's it been on for?” she continued.

“The cage? For five days... five long days.”

“Is that all? Five days?” she snorted, shaking her head in undisguised contempt.

“Er... yes, it's the longest I've ever worn it. It was usually just for a day, but then the bitch locked—”

“What did I just say about being nice?”

“Sorry. I mean, my girlfriend locked it on and then did a moonlight flit. She'd packed and gone when I woke up the next morning. Can you help me? Please?”

“Yes, I can, because I have the special screwdriver.”

I stared at her, wondering how she had come to possess such a tool. I was about to ask the question when she interrupted my thoughts. “But first you need to learn some manners. So go away and come back in two days. Understood?”

I just stopped myself from screaming out something I would regret. I bit my tongue, replying. “I'm not sure I can last that long, Daisy.”

“Call me Miss! Right?”

“Sorry... Miss.”

“You can last a week without cuming. Stop being pathetic. Now go, and I'll see you in two days.”

“Oh, God... I'm not... erm... okay," I reluctantly agreed. “And... and you're sure you can get my todger out of this thing?”

“I said I could, didn't I?”

“Yes, you did. So, thank you... Miss.”

“Now, off you go! Oh! And when you come back, I want you wearing panties, not boxers. Understood?”

“Er... what? Why?”

“People who sit to pee wear panties. You must have to sit to pee, so you have to wear panties. Simple logic! My former boyfriend had to sit to pee, and he understood he had to wear panties.”

She was grinning, having fun at my expense. The entire interaction had taken place in the doorway of her flat. I had to hope none of her neighbours had keen hearing.

oooOOooo

Two days later... with my frustration increasing by the day... I returned to her flat, hoping she would see fit to let me inside and release me.

“Hello, Miss,” I remarked as cheerfully as I could when she greeted me at the door of her apartment. She was dressed much as she had been two days earlier, but I was careful not to stare at her tits this time. Yet, just staring at her cute face caused my penis to spasm inside its cage. I wanted her so much.

“You'd best come in, Mark,” she replied, but with little enthusiasm.

I followed her into her small flat and into the sitting room. “Well, don't stand there like a lemon! Show me what you're wearing.”

Hesitantly, I undid my jeans and slipped them down, revealing I was wearing black satin panties in a bikini style. They were tight—too tight—with the elastic cutting deep into my flesh like cheese wire. It was a miracle I'd been able to walk in them.

“Where the hell did you get those?” she asked, staring scornfully at them.

“They belonged to my ex. She'd left them in the laundry basket in her rush to leave me.”

“So you're wearing your girlfriend's dirty knickers. That's so gross! Ugh!” She pulled a face, in case I was in any doubt as to her disapproval.

“Sorry, but it was all there was and—”

“There are shops, you moron! Shops that sell women's underwear.”

“Yes, but—”

“Go on, out you go. Come back in twenty-four hours with something you've purchased and not stolen. And something that damn well fits.”

“But—”

“I said go, Mark! So go! I'll see you tomorrow.”

Hastily, I pulled up my jeans as she swiftly corralled me towards her front door.

oooOOooo

A day later, I made my third visit to her flat, having made an uncomfortable trip to a well-known department store famed for supplying underwear to the best part of the UK's female population. There, I had purchased a multipack of cotton panties in what must have set a record for the shortest time spent in a lingerie aisle. It was with much relief to discover I was able to pay at a self-service till without it booming out, “Unexpected item in the baggage area—assistance is on its way”.

Back home, I ripped open the package. I loved how they looked and felt. The cotton was thin and soft to the touch, and the scalloped elastic around the waist and legs was so fine and delicate.

I stripped off and pulled a pair up my legs, thankful to find they fitted, so I wasn't going to be reprimanded by Daisy for wearing something too small. Nevertheless, they were still a snug fit, and I felt my penis desperately straining inside its cage as I eased them into place. Their feel was nothing like my boxers, and so much better. Yet clearly panties and a chastity cage were a cruel combination. I made a mental note to wear panties more often once I was free of the blasted cage.

Never, for a moment, was I able to forget what I was wearing as I made my way to her place, arriving dead on seven.

“Well, show me,” she said, after leading me through to her sitting room. Red-faced, I'd pulled my jeans down, and she stared thoughtfully at my panties for a minute or so, even getting me to do a twirl.

“Cute bum,” she declared, grinning. “Panties suit you. And I do love men in pink, so that's a good choice.”

“Thank you... Miss,” I muttered, wondering how much more embarrassing this could become. “Does that mean you're going to release me?” I asked, while attempting to adopt a sad puppy dog expression.

“God, you men are so pathetic,” she mumbled, but she was giggling as she said it. She opened the drawer of a sideboard. I was expecting her to produce the required screwdriver, but I was stunned to see her holding a sturdy pair of handcuffs.

“What?!” was all I could say.

She smiled, disarmingly. “Mark,” she patiently explained, “I'm guessing you're horny after eight days?” I nodded. “And I'm here alone with you?” I nodded again. “And you must be stronger than me, yes?”

“Yes... I see what you're getting at, but I'm a softie. I would never hurt you, Daisy.”

“Miss!”

“Sorry... Miss!”

“Well, I'm not taking the risk, and cuffing you to the head of the bed is the only way you're going to be released from that cage in my flat. Your decision, Mark.”

“Er... okay,” I replied, knowing she'd painted me into a corner. “But... but what then?” I asked. “What's going to happen?”

“Once you've shot your load, I'll uncuff you. I reckon I'll be safe when you're empty.”

My brain was working overtime. I'd been expecting her to unlock me and then send me on my way. “You're... you're going to make me cum?” I spluttered.

She smiled and nodded, saying, “Would you like that?”

I was speechless. The only thing better than her jerking me off would be me fucking her, but obviously that wasn't going to happen. She was out of my league.

“Follow me,” she said, curling her finger.

oooOOooo

Inside her bedroom, she ordered me to strip everything off apart from my panties and then lie on my back on the bed, where she proceeded to secure my wrists to the metal rails of the headboard using the handcuffs. A tug confirmed they were solidly built and not a cheap toy. Then, from a drawer, she produced the special screwdriver needed to free me from my cage. I recognised it, largely because of its phallic-shaped handle, which was marketed as serving multiple purposes.

She pulled my panties down until they were just below my balls. Then, she manipulated my device to give access to the two screws and deftly removed them. A sharp and rather painful tug freed me from its constraints. Instantly, my penis became fully engorged and stood to attention. I stared at it, looking at an old friend.

“I'm going to blindfold you, Mark. I don't want you ogling my naked body! That's not for you to see.”

“Your... your naked body?” I exclaimed, struggling to understand why she had to be naked to make me cum, not that I was complaining, you understand.

She didn't answer, instead tying a black scarf around my head, obscuring my vision.

I listened as she got undressed, my brain attempting to picture what was happening in response to the faint sounds I picked up. I imagined her first removing her shirt and then unzipping her skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. Then I envisaged her unclipping her bra and giving her boobs a wiggle. Finally, I visualised her slipping down her panties, pushing them down her thighs until gravity took over. For me, the imagery was very real, and my dick was waving around frantically.

I heard her open a drawer, and, seconds later, she was slipping a condom over my todger. Stupidly, I tried thrusting against her fingers, hoping to gain friction and pleasure. “Stupid man,” she murmured, giving my erection a sharp slap.

Then, to my amazement, she climbed onto the bed and straddled my groin. What the hell?

“I have your consent, don't I, Mark?” she enquired. “You're not objecting, are you?”

“Christ, no!” I yelled.

She didn't say anything else, but guided my armed missile into its target. It slipped in effortlessly, the condom and her juices providing all the lubrication needed. In fact, I was concerned that it might slip out, but Daisy was too skilled to allow that to happen. Gently at first, she rode me, easing herself up and down, teasing me.

I tried thrusting with my hips to gain traction, but she was wise to that trick, and lifted herself almost clear until I had learnt she was in charge. Evidently, I was to be the passive partner as she proceeded to stimulate me.

She could tell from my responses when to back off and when to bear down. For several minutes she played with me, while all the time her own arousal was audibly increasing. “Oh, oh, God...” she muttered, time after time in a staccato fashion.

I sensed that she and I would climax simultaneously, and when that would happen would be her decision alone—I was no more than a human dildo, stimulating her. She was in charge, and whilst I was desperate to come, I had to wait for her to finish playing with me.

Slowly, her utterances grew noticeably louder, less interpretable and more blasphemous. Suddenly, she reached her point of no return. She instantly pushed down fast and hard, precipitating my ejaculation. Together we came in powerful, synchronised orgasms.

oooOOooo

It was some time before either of us could speak. I couldn't process what had happened. I had gone to her flat expecting, at best, for her to remove my cage using the special screwdriver, but instead I had fucked her. It was unbelievable, but it had happened.

“Well... now we have... to decide what to do next,” she breathlessly observed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry?”

“Did... you enjoy that?”

“Yes! Of course... I did! Thank you... Miss!”

She eased herself off me, holding and then removing the condom from my semi-limp member.

Movement of the mattress told me she was getting off the bed. A couple of minutes later she removed my blindfold, and I saw she was fully dressed again.

She smiled at me. “As you enjoyed it, I'll give you a choice. You get dressed and go home, and we never see each other again. Or...” She paused theatrically for several seconds. “Or... I lock you back in, and you return in two weeks.”

I was torn. I had come to be freed, and now she was offering to lock me up again, but with the prospect of future sex.

“Er... two weeks, you say. Erm... couldn't... couldn't we make it just one week... Miss?”

She eyed me for a moment before replying, “We could... if you swallow this. Every drop!” She held up the full condom so it was inches from my face. The unmistakable and unpleasant odour of warm semen drifted up my nose.

“I... I don't know if...” I'd never done that, and it turned my stomach to even think of doing it. But then I found myself yelling, “Oh, fuck it, yes, give it to me! Please!”

I opened my mouth, and she poured in the salty slime. It was every bit as disgusting as I'd expected, but, I told myself, women are sometimes expected to do this, so I had to be brave. I swallowed, then used my tongue to collect any residue before swallowing again.

“Show me,” she ordered. “Open wide.”

She smiled approvingly after inspecting the empty cavity and then set about rescrewing the chastity device securely into place over my flaccid penis. Then she unlocked the handcuffs.

“Same time next week, Mark,” she declared. “But I want you to come wearing both panties and a bra. Understood?”

“What? Why?”

“People of your age who wear panties also wear bras. It's simple logic! My old boyfriend accepted that.”

She stared at me, daring me to challenge her thinking, but I knew better, so I gulped and nodded.

She smiled sweetly at me, saying, “So, off you go, and I'll see you next week, Mark.”

THE END