“Good choice. You would be stupid not to.” She says. Something in her eye told you that she was prepared to persuade you if you hadn’t just gave in. She was right though. You had no idea what she was capable of anymore. She wasn’t afraid to hit you or stuff a rancid sock in your mouth. Just going along with this charade was the safe option.
She unties one of your hands, and lets you struggle to free yourself while she slowly walks out of the room. Her hips sway side to side, purposefully exaggerated and showcasing her amazing ass. You still want to fuck her, but now you can’t with this damn cock cage on. You struggle to unlatch your right hand, but after a few attempts you manage to free it. Once that was done, freeing your legs was easy. Now it was time to decide what to do.
You look down at your new cage. You didn’t know anything about these types of things, but this looked expensive. Probably the best that money could buy. Getting out would not be easy without that key, if it was even possible at all.
While you adjust to your new normal, she had already left you and got comfortable in the living room. “What’s taking so long in there, bitch? Don’t even think about trying to escape either. I’ve got the only key. If you leave I will make sure you stay trapped in that thing for a week—or a month!” Her voice wasn’t threatening, more of a matter-of-fact type of tone. The kind spoken with absolute confidence, as though she had no doubts of this new arrangement and how it would go from now on. A MONTH?!? You think to yourself. You thought that this would be on for a couple of days at most. you walk out of the room to see her back on the couch.
“Make me dinner….” She pauses for a moment. “You can cook, can’t you?”
“I-I... suppose.” Your voice trembles and was uncertain how to answer.
"Good make me something....Italian. Suprise me."
You rumage around her kitchen to be a good boy and think of how or if it is even possible to get out of this situation. As you have some things cooking, you are summoned to your new owner.
“Oh waiter. Bring me more wine. Chop, chop.”
She’s treating you like a servant. She’s only missing a little bell to call you. You keep that thought to yourself to avoid giving her any more ideas. you return to her and pick up her empty glass to fill it for her. As you bring it back, she lets you sit it beside her and she is happily lounging with her feet up on an ottoman.
“Good. When dinner is finished, you can serve it to me in here.”
She barely the dinner that you prepared and seems unimpressed, but not disappointed either. As she finishes, you are summoned with the click of her fingers and she leaves you to do the dishes and cleanup. It felt emasculating. Your enemy making you do this. Somehow you though helping her get promoted would have not been anything like this. Now you’re trapped in chastity and subserviently obeying every demeaning order from your work rival.
Once dinner is finished and dishes are put away, you feel like your 'services; are not needed anymore. She is relaxing on the couch and probably winding down for the night. “Can I go now?” You were really getting frustrated and wanted to try and get this thing off your cock.
“No.” She quickly replies without a seconds hesitation. “How are you at foot rubs?”
“Terrible” you sharply reply.
She does not like your answer. “Well I guess you’ll need extra practice then. You can spend the next two hours giving me a foot massage.” She orders. She clicks her fingers and points to her feet, which are comfortably elevated on an ottoman. “Now, bitch.” She just continues sipping her wine, expectantly waiting for you to obey.
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