Jessica had fined me £40 for not keeping my house clean. As I was running short of cash, she agreed that I could pay off my fine by doing her bidding for two hours, and I was expected to report to her house at 1 PM on Saturday.
I was therefore surprised when I heard her letting herself into my house at 10.30 AM that day, with the key I'd given her. I got up from my armchair and went to greet her. She looked pleased to see me and gave me a peck on the cheek as well as a beguiling smile, causing my penis to swell a little inside its cage. She was dressed in an ultra-short red skirt with a white vest top. Once again, she didn't seem to be wearing a bra to contain her pert, firm breasts.
“Hello, Frank, darling. How are you getting on? You know, with the cage?” she asked, speaking with her usual plummy and seductive accent.
“I'm struggling, Miss. Really struggling. I think a cage is something that should be worn for just a few hours at a time, slowly building up to longer periods. I honestly don't think it's advisable to go from no cage to wearing one twenty-four seven.”
She adopted a thoughtful expression and stroked her chin. “Hmm... you might well be right, darling, but... we'll still do it my way, eh? Sometimes, it's better to take a plunge into a cold pool, rather than easing oneself in. Okay?”
“Er... yes, Miss,” I replied, sensing defeat.
She grinned at me, and changed the subject. “Look! I popped out this morning and I've bought you something!” In her hand was a plastic bag blazoned with the name of a well-known supermarket. From inside she retrieved a see-through package and passed it to me.
My penis, already partially aroused, started thumping against its metal bars when I saw I was holding a pack of cotton panties in a variety of pastel colours. “They're a present. You don't have to pay me! Take one out and look at it, darling,” she urged.
I did. The pair of panties were in a bikini style, but what made them special was the inscription across the front reading “Monday”.
“There's a pair for each day of the week, Frank. It'll make it so much easier for me to check that you're wearing a fresh pair each day. And you won't have to do washing every day, either. It's win-win!”
I gulped and before I could reply she added, “You keep your underwear in the chest of drawers in your bedroom, don't you?”
She must have remembered from doing her mooching around after I had cleaned the house from top to bottom. “Er... yes, in the bedroom, Miss. Why?”
She didn't answer because she was already heading upstairs. I followed with a sense of foreboding.
We went straight into my bedroom, and she pulled open the right drawer, locating my collection of underpants and boxer shorts. Before I could say anything, she was scooping them up into the supermarket bag.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
“Do stop saying 'what' all the time, Frank. Isn't it obvious! You've got new undies, so out with the old. These are just cluttering the place up!”
“But— but, why? Why do I need to wear panties?”
“Because I've decided you will, Frank. I've read that men who are required to wear female underwear become more submissive and compliant. That's what I want of you, okay?”
“I... I don't understand...”
“You can be very obtuse sometimes, Frank! It's best you let me do the thinking, and you just do what I tell you. Understood?”
I understood only too well. “What... what about if I go to the gym... or swimming... or the doctor's?”
“Good grief, Frank. You're already wearing a chastity cage, for God's sake. You'll manage! Stop looking at the negatives and think of the positives.” She didn't expand on what the positives were, but, as my penis was now causing me intense discomfort, sexual arousal might be what she had in mind. I had to admit that the idea of being forced, by this beautiful young woman, to wear panties was a big turn-on—it was just a pity I was locked in this damn cage.
“By the way, darling. The cane I ordered has arrived so I'll let you know what you owe me. I mention the cane just in case I should find you have a secret hoard of underwear that you've not told me about.”
She stared hard at me, causing my stomach to sink. “There's isn't, Miss. I promise,” I truthfully replied.
“Oh, that's a pity, darling. I do want to get some use from this cane, otherwise it's a waste of money. Being obedient and being teacher's pet are not the same thing.”
She smiled seductively at me, while I swallowed hard. “See you at 1 PM at my place, Frank. Do make sure you're wearing your Saturday panties.”
oooOOooo
At precisely the appointed time, I presented myself at her front door and she ushered me inside. She was still wearing the red skirt and white vest top that I'd seen her in earlier.
After giving me a peck on the cheek, she instructed, "Go straight through, into the garden, Frank."
I did what she said, leading the way through her house and out through the back door. “Are you wearing your Saturday knickers?” she asked.
The question was unnecessary. Our relationship had developed to the point where, despite the humiliation I felt, we both knew I would never disobey her over such a thing, especially as she held the key to my chastity cage and was in control of my orgasms.
“Yes, Miss,” I mumbled.
She smirked, “I thought so!”
I hoped I'd escaped showing them to her, but she continued, “I'll get to see them in a minute, Frank... I need to keep you busy for a couple of hours, don't I? To teach you a lesson about keeping your house clean!”
“Yes, Miss,” I replied, thinking it best to say as little as possible.
“Have you heard of punitive tasks, Frank?” I shook my head, having never heard the term. “Gosh! How have you got this far in life without being made to do a punitive task?” She looked at me in astonishment. “Oh, well, I'd better explain,” she went on to say. “A punitive task is some menial undertaking that's utterly meaningless but serves as a punishment.”
“I... I see,” I answered, but not really understanding.
However, I could tell she was enjoying herself from the flirtatious smiles she was giving me. “I will sit here, sipping a G & T, and reading my novel, while you move logs.”
She pointed to an enormous pile of logs resting against the back wall of her house. “I want those taken, one by one, to the top of the garden. Okay? And there you will stack them neatly. Then, when you've moved them all, you will bring them back here, one by one, remaking the original pile. It's a completely pointless activity, darling, but it will teach you a lesson about being clean and tidy. Any questions?”
Yes, I had lots of questions, especially about the unfairness of this, yet common sense said that it was best not to raise any issues. “No, Miss,” I begrudgingly replied.
“It's a muggy day, and you're going to get warm doing this, so strip off down to your knickers. You may keep your trainers on, darling. The garden's secluded so no one will see—other than me, obviously!”
For a moment I hesitated, which she picked up on, choosing to pull up the thin gold chain around her neck. At the base of it rested the small key which fitted the lock of my chastity cage. She said nothing, and neither did I, but the message was clear. I wasted no more time and removed my clothes until all I was wearing were my trainers and a pair of pink cotton panties adorned with the word “Saturday”. Her smile turned into a grin.
“Off you go,” she ordered, starting a timer on her phone.
I set to work. Each log was large and her edict that I move them one at a time was unnecessary because I doubt I could have carried two at once. The distance from the top of the garden to the bottom was about 100 yards and, by the time I had made half a dozen trips, I was sweating buckets. I was actually thankful that she had made me strip to my underwear.
The utter futility of what I was doing was not lost on me. I knew the logs were too thick to burn as they were—they would need to be split before they could be put on a fire. Jessica could have given me an axe and made me spend two hours chopping wood, but that would have been a meaningful endeavour. Instead, I was simply moving logs from one place to another and then back again. It was an utterly pointless and worthless activity, and not one where I could gain any job satisfaction. Its sole purpose was to punish me.
As I toiled backwards and forwards, I sometimes glanced in her direction. She was lying back on a sun lounger. In one hand she held a book, and her other hand occasionally lifted a glass from the table beside her. Once, she looked up at me and saw I was watching her. “Good boy, Frank! Keep going! You're almost halfway!” she encouraged, as if I were competing in a marathon and needed motivating, which I suppose I did.
I continued, slaving away, sweat dripping from me. The rough bark of the wood was scraping against my chest as I struggled to carry the heavy logs.
On and on, I went. I had no idea of the time, but, after what seemed like hours, I felt the end was coming into sight—just a few more dozen logs to move. Meanwhile, Jessica continued to relax, reading and drinking. Once or twice she had got up to refill her glass and I could see it was charged with ice cubes. What I wouldn't give for an ice cube at that moment!
Finally, the undertaking was completed. I had moved all the logs to the top of the garden and back again.
I looked in her direction, and she glanced up from her book. “Good boy, Frank, but it did take you two hours and ten minutes. You needed to speed up a bit!” She smiled at me, and beckoned me over to her with a finger.
“Kneel beside me,” she ordered. I did so, the rough concrete slabs of her patio pressing painfully into my knees. She reached under the sunlounger and pulled out a bottle of water from a coolbag. “I bet you're thirsty, Frank.”
I thanked her, unscrewed the top and guzzled down the contents.
“Did you learn a lesson, Frank?” she asked.
“Er...”
“Come on! You've done two hours of hard labour. Why was that?”
“Hmm... because you found my house wasn't clean, Miss.”
“That's right! So what lesson have you learnt?”
“I... I must keep my house clean in future.”
“Good boy! That's right. I'll be carrying out spot inspections so don't let me down. Okay?”
“Er... no, I won't, Miss.”
She smiled at me. “But you've been very obedient, darling, and I like obedience in men. You did what you were told with no fuss nor complaining, so good boy.”
“Thank you, Miss,” I replied.
“I'm a big softie, Frank, so I'm going to give you a treat to reward you for being submissive.”
I looked her in the eyes. Was she going to release me from my cage?
She read my thoughts and laughed. “Sorry, Frank, you have to stay locked up. I'm sure being caged has been a key factor in your compliance today.”
She paused for me to absorb what she was saying. “I'm going to let you suck my toes, darling. Would you like to do that?”
Although she can't have known it, I do have a thing for female toes. “Er... yes, yes, I would, Miss!” I enthusiastically replied.
“And, as a very special treat, I'm going to let you look up my skirt while you do so. I'll even open my legs a tad so you get an unobstructed view.” As she said that, my penis gave a massive twitch and thumped against its steel sides, causing me to wince. “If you can bear to do so, that is,” she added, grinning. “Come on! Chop, chop!”
I manoeuvred myself so that I was as the end of the sunlounger. Her feet were dangling over the end, with her toes perfectly positioned to be suckled.
As I got in position, she opened her thighs a little. From my subservient position, I had a clear view up her short skirt and plainly visible was a triangle of white satin.
I was mesmerised by the sight and my penis was throbbing. What's more, she had picked up her book and held it so that her face was obscured. I could stare up her skirt without the embarrassment of knowing she was staring back at me.
“Look lively!” she urged, impatiently. “Try multitasking, for goodness' sake!”
I snapped out of my daydream and enveloped a big toe with my lips, using my tongue to lick and caress it. All the while, I strained to look at the white triangle, picturing what lay beyond.
Once again, she second guessed what I was thinking and lightheartedly called out, “This is the closest you'll get to seeing my pussy, Frank, so don't build your hopes up.”
I couldn't reply as my mouth was full. What I could see was so near to her sacred altar, yet so far. What I would give for her to remove her panties!
Her feet and toes were smooth and soft, and tasted divine. I could tell she took good care of them. As I worked my way along the toes, one digit after another, I began to be aware that she was wriggling a little. Evidently, she was enjoying the attention as much as I was savouring the delivery.
Then, I thought I detected a spot of dampness appearing in the white triangle. At first, I dismissed it as a trick of the light, but, as I continued my ministrations, I could see it was growing larger. She was becoming aroused, and I sensed she was struggling to concentrate on her novel.
I carried on for several minutes longer before she suddenly put the book down. “Thank you, darling. I enjoyed that. You are so good at it, like you were with the back massage. But you can get dressed now and go home.” Then she smiled mischievously at me, adding, “There's something I need to attend to... in my bedroom. Come on... get a move on!”
I stood up and saw Jessica gazing at my panties. Looking down, I noticed a wet patch where precum had soaked through the thin cotton. She laughed, “Crumbs, you'll need to start wearing pantyliners, darling!”
Not knowing how to respond, I returned a nervous smile, hoping she was joking. Nothing more was said, so I hurriedly got dressed and said my goodbyes.
oooOOooo
Back home, my penis was still aching, and I desperately needed to masturbate. Moreover, my frustration was not helped by guessing that self-pleasuring was exactly what Jessica was doing, right then, in the privacy of her bedroom.
I pulled down my jeans and knickers. Was there any way, I wondered, that I might somehow climax inside this cage? Could it be done without a full erection?
My swollen manhood was pressing hard against the steel bars of its cage, and in places the swollen flesh was painfully protruding through the gaps. At the end of the cage, the glans, the most sensitive part of my tool, was partially exposed. I tried stroking the small areas that I could see, hoping beyond hope that, somehow, I might orgasm. The sensations I felt were powerful—and frustrating—but climaxing proved impossible. All I succeeded in doing was to drive my frenzy to new heights of despair.
Then I tried dislodging the cage, not thinking for a moment how I might refit it—I was frantic for relief. I yanked it this way and that, ignoring the excruciating pain the tugging was causing to my balls. But nothing gave. The cage was firmly in place. As Jessica had explained, she had chosen a £200 model with good reviews because “I deserved the very best”.
In defeat, I went into the kitchen and retrieved the bag of frozen peas. I knew that if I asked her, she would unlock me, but then our bizarre contract would be ended, and, at best, we would just become “ordinary” neighbours and, at worse, she might never talk to me again. I didn't want either of those to happen. Her domination over me was the most thrilling thing ever to have happened, and wearing this wretched cage was the price I had to pay for the excitement I experienced in her presence.
I was resigned to accepting that all I could do was serve her and trust that she occasionally rewarded me.
