He stood naked in the kitchen, warming up a croissant and pouring her a cup of hot coffee. He had everything on a tray to serve her in bed. Butter, jam, knife, cream for the coffee. Yes. Everything was here.
A soft metal thunk sounded as his cage bumped up against the edge of the counter. He smiled.
Only a month ago, everything was different. Everything.
He had a good job at a bank, was working his ass off to keep it, and had a great girlfriend that he didn't have quite enough time to enjoy because...job.
She was patient and understanding, but his lack of time frustrated her.
The day he got laid off, he assumed his life as he knew it was going to end. The job market sucked, and if he couldn't find a decent place to work he'd have a hard time keeping his girlfriend, who pulled in quite a tidy sum as a paralegal in a private law firm. She'd landed a position years ago with an extremely generous firm and was pretty much set. When they first started dating, it was a little uncomfortable that she was more flush than he was, but he got over it. Unemployed was a different story, though. That wouldn't fly. Not in his world.
He headed over to her house that night, the very picture of dejection. They sat on the sofa, talked, and drank a bottle of wine together.
There on the sofa was when the world as he knew it totally changed, but it was the opposite of the doom and gloom picture he had in his head.
As he talked, mostly she just listened, acknowledging his angst. She was sympathetic, and supportive. She let him go on and on, until he'd talked himself out. He'd covered pretty much everything. His plan to freshen up his resume and start looking tomorrow morning. How many months he could afford to be unemployed, living off his meager savings. He tried to show determination and resolve, but honestly felt anything but. He felt like the fucking bank had unceremoniously cut his balls off, leaving him scrambling to tend to his wounds, without a bandage in sight. That's how he really felt.
She offered her arms to him and he moved into them. Cuddling there on the couch, his head on her breasts, he let himself be held. Early on in their relationship they'd largely let go of society's gender expectations, thankfully. And he so needed to be held right now.
After a while she spoke.
"Or...we could try something entirely different. I have an idea...."
She laid it all out. Her idea was for him to move in with her. She had a roomy two bedroom apartment and they'd been dating for a year. It wasn't a precipitous move. That part sounded great. It was the other part he wasn't so sure about.
She wanted him to be her servant, kind of. Not in the sense of superiority or inequality; she didn't believe in female supremacy. She framed it more as a joint venture, an agreed upon dominant/submissive domestic arrangement. She would have her responsibilities, which included working, bringing home all the money, and paying for everything they needed. His responsibilities would be to take care of everything else. Keeping the apartment clean, the laundry done, cooking meals, doing the shopping, paying the bills, entertaining.
At first when she described her idea, he felt himself balk inside. He was already feeling rather castrated by the bank, and even though he'd tried hard to let go of society's prescribed gender roles, he couldn't find a way to feel worthy in that situation.
He stated that out loud and was shocked at his own reaction - basically he felt like that work wasn't worth much, wasn't something he could be proud of and feel productive and valuable doing.
That led to a deeper conversation, an exploration of his knee jerk reaction, some embarrassment and laughter on his part, and more wine drinking. God, he loved this woman, they could talk about anything.
It was at that point she threw out the hook.
"Now part of your duties would include chastity, of course. I would have full control over your orgasms and you wouldn't have many. At least not from jerking off or fucking me. Your only orgasms would be from me fucking you. And you would have to service me sexually any time I wanted it, and whatever way I wanted it." She threw the words out there so casually and just left that hook there, the metal gleaming and sparkling in invitation.
His world started spinning a bit. Jesus. He felt intensely turned on and a bit scared. This was not beyond the realm of what they'd talked about. But it was definitely beyond what they'd actually explored so far.
Being caged was something he'd fantasized about. He told her about those fantasies. And here he was, being given an opportunity to live it out. In a big way. In a real way. Right here. Right now. Fuck!
He said yes.
Three days later he'd moved in with her, bailing on the deposit for his apartment. Not having to go to work left him so much time to get things done! Everything was organized and arranged. He had his room and she had hers. They'd be sleeping together, but thought it was important to have their own space, too.
She had the cage waiting for him once he'd finished moving his things. That was a Friday night. It was a challenge to get his cock into it because he was so excited. He was embarrassed somehow, he didn't know why. He didn't know what to expect. He felt like he'd just pushed his entire pile of chips in at the card table in Vegas. He was all in, and didn't know what card would be dealt next.
It was positively exhilarating.
~~
As happens occasionally during Masturbation Month, this short erotic fantasy took on a life of its own. You can read the complete story here.
