Saturday, November 28, 2015

A Man's Chastity XII

“But why the lady’s room?”

If I am protesting, my wavering voice is not effective.

“Quiet Henry. You wouldn’t want me to be seen in the men’s room would you?”

Miss Madeleine leads me by the hand like a child. In her free hand is my cock cage, control ring and small padlock. She brazenly carries the components of my chastity in the open, some how knowing the hallways will be empty... just as she surmises the lady’s room will be unoccupied.

This will be embarrassing. Yet worse is that security guard Pam, her stern demeanor, her firm tugging hand, proves to be a catalyst towards tumescence. And being under the tutelage of Miss Madeleine does not help.

Into the lady’s room I am led into the handicapped stall, sizeable in width. I can feel myself further stiffen. It is unfamiliar to me, being hard without my wrists burdened.

Miss Madeleine puts down the seat cover and sits, pulling me towards her. She reaches to my belt and uncouples the buckle.

“Hands on head, Henry. Been a while since I placed a boy in chastity. I noticed your wife has you in a spiked cage. She’s a determined woman.”  

As she speaks, my slacks are summarily lowered, crumpled at my ankles. Within seconds my underpants are likewise slid to the bathroom floor. The woman has before stripped men, there is not doubt. In my bashfulness I turn my head to the ceiling, knowing my erection will make an impression.

“And look at this. Shaven... hairless like a little boy. And your little penis is celebrating. How cute! I can see why the wife has you locked up, Henry. This can’t offer a woman much satisfaction... only for you. And that’s not good for a man of your ilk. Beta males need to learn to offer pleasure not labor to bring forth their own.”

An index finger presses the top of my standing four inches and pushes downward. It both hurts and thrills.

“Lots of masturbation in the past no doubt. But not now. You’re a good boy.”

The hand withdraws, my erection snaps upwards and Miss Madeleine presents the control ring. This solid circle of steel is precisely measured such that when slipped over the penis and scrotum, it cannot be pulled off once the steel mesh cock cage is locked to it. It’s limited size is such that only one testicle at a time can be drawn through. Then the penis, flaccidity mandatory, is pulled down and likewise slipped into the confines of the smooth heavily gauged circumference. It requires practice, my wife quite accomplished over the many months since the device was procured. When properly set, the metal rests on the pubic bone, circling from perineum to the base of the penis at the top. Though heavy it’s surprising comfortable... and the girth sends the bearer a constant message... that one is under control.

I am surprised with both the speed and enthusiasm that Miss Madeleine’s fingers work my testicles into the ring. She has no compunction in handling male genitals.

“Yes, it’s been a while. In my younger days I owned a two family house, rented the top floor to two gay college boys. What a ruckus those boys would make, Lord only knows the hijinks. Quite frisky. Friday nights were loud, lots of thumping... later found to be humping.

“Whatever are we going to do with this little rascal, Henry? Can’t get it through the control ring like that,” Miss Madeleine interrupts herself.

The humiliation is intense, leading to more stiffness. These are the times when my wife most abruptly ices me down, shriveling my limited size to next to nothing in order to return me to chastity. Alas, no ice in the lady’s room.

With a wicked grin, the imposing woman raises her hand and with a snap of her wrist smacks the very tip of my penis. It deflates... instantly... Miss Madeleine’s knowledge and control of the male phallus impressive.

“There,” fingers resuming to pull my limp penis through the ring. “So after a few weeks, I threatened to raise the rent... doubling it. Told them that if I am to be awakened with all the noise I wanted more money...  knowing college guys could barely afford the current amount. It was a ruse to get them out.”

Miss Madeleine reaches for the mesh cock cage, peering to the inside and smiling with the sharp precision placed spikes.

“Hold still,” she commands, knowing that no matter the heed, the spikes will announce themselves when set in place.

“Well they begged, insisting that quiet would ensue, no rent increase required. And of course with hormones raging the thumping continued. So I sent a formal notice of rent increase. There was no lease, just a month to month thing. Upon receipt I got a visit... a very humble visit.”

The cock cage slides into place. I am surprised with the level of care, barely a grimace in response. As the small padlock is aligned and snapped closed, the story continues.

“Told them I was suspicious about the source of the noise. Played the role of prudish spinster. Told them abstention was best... and if they agreed to be abstemious, no rent increase. Pull up your underpants for me like a good boy.”

I bend and obey.

“They agreed. But I told them I wanted assurances... asked if they were pierced. One said yes, a standard Prince Albert ring, the other demurred. So his friend finally answered for him. A matching Prince Albert. Seems they played with each others rings, some form of mutual masturbation. I feigned shock of course. Demanding that would end... and that I would be sure to end it.”

Miss Madeleine reaches down and grasps my slacks at the belt left and right. Something about dressing me, arranging my attire about the hips, buckling the belt, zipping the zipper, that adds an element of control for her.  

“Well to make a long story short, I sent both each for one more piercing... a guiche... at the perineum... near the anus. They had no choice... get pierced or go homeless before mid semester. Thereafter, it was a small step to place them in chastity, tiny lock attaching the Prince Albert ring to the guiche. Friday nights were quiet after that. But I mercifully had them perform for me on Saturday afternoons. Watching two hormone laden gay boys go at it can be very entertaining, Henry.”  

With that Miss Madeleine tenderly pats the outline of the steel cock cage and arises from the toilet lid.

“See you back here at 5:30 when your wife will pick you up. I’ll release you and keep the cock cage in my desk overnight. Have a good day, Henry. And do have deference for the woman who holds your key.”

I certainly will. Obedience to a file clerk. Ah, the power of the key.

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