Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 29

Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!

Read more of my erotica…

(This really won’t make much sense unless you’ve read the earlier episodes!)

In a cage above the new Club Virgo's dance floor, a man in a thong and a gold-tinted "Neuter" collar gyrated and flexed his oiled muscles. Shona could almost taste the sweat.

Nice abs, she thought. Vaguely familiar.

Shona sipped her gin and tonic and tried to remember whether she'd had him. The last couple of months had been a blur of licked cunt and pressed red buttons.

Wait!

Was that Victor strutting his stuff on the dance floor?

Shona pushed off her stool to stand up. The raised bar gave her a good view across the heaving mob of horny young women and even hornier "chastes" and "neuters".

She must be seeing things.

A CCTV camera swept over the bar, and Shona glimpsed herself captured on one of the suspended TV screens: knee length boots for autumn, terracotta dress with a hint of Greek tunic --- Whatshisname would have shot his load just looking at her.

Shona brought up the HrLckr app and checked. Yes, "LostBoy" --- Whatshisname --- was still exclusive to a "NibbleKitten", which had to be Tabitha.

Shona sighed. Hunting for chastes had stopped being fun. None of them seemed interesting in tidying her flat. There were a few up for a beating, but it was all safewords and consent and Ouch that was too hard Red Red Jesus Fuck Red. All in all it was a lot of palaver just to get her rocks off, and it bored her.

Ruth appeared through the crowd, face sheened, her clingy dress wet with sweat. "I swear I saw your ex Victor."

"Me too. Must be the same haircut."

Ruth lent on the bar and gave her order to the barkeep --- a comely young man in the clear glass chaste collar. She nudged Shona. "Imagine Victor chaste!"

Chaste, five years, thought Shona.

She glanced up at the dancer.

Neuter, ten years.

Yes! She did recall pressing this one's button while she sat with her cunt backed onto his mouth. That was why she recognised the abs and maybe the muscular thighs, but not the face.

Since CARGO passed, all the seriously locked men were registering as chaste or neuter and sealing up for the duration so they could show off their status with an official collar. She'd obligingly pressed more than a dozen red buttons, but they were so eager it took the fun out of it.

Shona chuckled to herself. They might remember her less favourably when the novelty wore off and they were stuck for the long haul.

Maybe she should just go home and use her vibrator...

Ruth's Australian accent cut through the noise. "Aren't you dancing?"

Shona shook her head. "I don't chase men."

"How's that working for you, then?"

Shona shrugged.

Something on the dance floor caught Ruth's attention. "Look at Angela and her feller go!""

Angela --- who had been acting very differently since that one time she'd borrowed Whatshisname --- was indeed dancing; dancing around her handbag like it was 1990, arms and legs jerking with a sort of angular precision and not quite in time to the music, teeth flashing, frizzy blonde hair flying, shiny silver dress so much like a second skin that Shona could make out her friend's nipples even at this distance.

Angela's date --- yes, she was still romantically inclined and had actually brought a date to this sweaty meat market --- danced with a sort of frantic enthusiasm, gaze fixed on the spidery blonde as if she might pounce and bite off his head.

Resplendent in his gilded collar, MutedManhood --- Angela had primly introduced him as "Matthew" --- had not however been able to meet Shona's eyes when they were introduced in the queue at the club entrance.

They both remembered her pressing his button. Did he know she'd tipped off Angela about his status?

When he'd turned away, she'd peeked down the back of his loose shirt and spotted fresh welts. There were also flecks of candle wax in his arm hair, and little pink marks dappling his chest where his open neck exposed it to view.

Shona had exchanged a meaningful glance at Angela, and the blonde had blushed sweetly.

Now Shona's once-innocent friend had the much mistreated MutedManhood by the wrist and was drawing him to the giant castle chess piece that the club owner had installed on the middle of the dance floor.

The castle --- a rook, remembered Shona --- must be a disused prop from some theme park, because it hardly went with the converted warehouse's Space Age decor.

"Wow," said Ruth. "Look at her."

Angela opened the door of the little castle and ducked inside. MutedManhood followed. There was a pause, then the blonde's head and shoulders appeared over the miniature battlements. She jostled as if adjusting her perch, and Shona knew that the slave...

The neuter.

Not slave. Some of them actually found that term offensive.

The neuter must be nuzzling up between her skinny legs while she got comfortable with the special foot rests and cushioned seat.

Now the cameras swung to focus on Angela. Suddenly every screen hanging around the walls showed a different angle of the blonde's face.

Angela glanced around, suddenly nervous, flushed visibly.

Then her eyelids fluttered.

Hidden inside the tower, MutedManhood had gone to work with his tongue, or maybe his fingers... or both.

Angela arched her back as if under some compulsion. She gripped the edge of the miniature battlements, chewed her pale lip, then threw back her head and let out a cry loud enough to be heard over the pounding dance music.

Shona's cunt warmed and throbbed in sympathy.

"Jesus!" said Ruth. "You should have a go."

Shona shook her head. "Not an exhibitionist."

"Shit that is Victor. Look."

It was. There was Victor in a well tailored white suit that he somehow managed to wear with just a hint of charming irony, staring at Angela as she writhed in what looked like continuous orgasm.

Victor's dancing partner, a girl with stiff long dark hair that had too much gel in it, scowled and turned away.

"How did he get in?" Shona. She cast around for Security.

"Wait," said Ruth. She took out her phone, brought up the HrLckr app. "There, look." She raised her voice over the music. "Down at the bottom of the local list."

Shona peered over her shoulder and picked out the name "VictoryMan" plus the symbol for "locked", meaning he had possession of his own keys.

"Fuck," said Shona. "This must be his way to get younger totty. I'll put a stop to this..."

Over on the giant chess piece, Angela sat up, blinked at the cameras, then ducked back inside.

Victor seemed to come to himself. He noticed his pickup had gone, shrugged, and headed for a spot further down the bar.

Now Shona knew what to look for, she could make out the chastity bump through her ex's linen trousers. She could even spot the little dimple caused by the locking superstructure. Victor --- no surprise --- had his red button intact and unpressed.

For now.

"Do you need backup?" asked Ruth.

"Go dance," said Shona. She stalked down the bar and sidled up behind Victor. She could have just reached around him and pressed onto his crotch like a pervy Heimlich manoeuvre, but there were probably security cameras everywhere and she didn't want to find out what the law thought of her favourite hobby.

Instead, she pinched his bottom --- still nicely firm. When he squawked and turned, she said, "Boo!"

"Shona!" Victor blinked up at her then gave her that horny ironic look that used to go straight to her crotch. "I thought it was you."

Shona crossed her boots and pressed her thighs together.

Correction, that look of his still worked its magic on her nether regions.

"What the fuck," she said, "are you doing locked?"

"Oh well," said Victor, "you see after our little exchange before my presentation---"

"Me crushing your fucking balls, you mean?"

"Yes, yes." He moved closer and talked more softly. "Well it got me thinking of how much I really like empowered women."

A cheer rose from the dance floor.

A blushing Angela was ducked down and hurrying through the throng towards the exit, still dragging MutedManhood by his wrist.

"But you fucking sabotaged my presentation," said Shona. "And you were stealing my ideas for literally years!"

Victor looked rueful. "That was the Old Victor. New Victor..."

"You mean VictoryMan?"

He grinned up at her. "You like the name?"

"It's too cocky."

"No such thing," he said with a smirk. Then quickly corrected. "But everything in its place, in this case a large-sized cage. Very large."

Shona laughed. Victor was still outrageous.

Her ex looked her up and down. "Nice boots. I seem to recall they contained nice legs as well."

"You never said anything nice about my legs."

"Ah well, that was Old Victor."

"And how is New Victor? VictoryMan, I mean."

"Lonely, frankly. It's been fun playing the field, but... look Shona, I miss you. We were damn good together. And now I've learned my lesson, perhaps we could be real partners?"

"What the f...?"

He stretched up on tiptoes and kissed her on the mouth.

Shona stumbled back, rubbing her lips.

"Just think about it," said Victor. "I know you had Mal as a sort of domestic servant and it was really very convenient. But if we set up together, we could hire a housekeeper and live like normal people."

Normal sounded good, actually. "Except you'd be locked," said Shona.

Victor blinked, then rallied. "We could explore possibilities together."

"But you'd stay locked until I was persuaded otherwise."

Victor grinned. "Sounds like I'll have jolly good fun persuading you."

"And I get to sleep with other women and you don't," said Shona.

Again, Victor blinked. "I mean... I'm broad minded." He pulled out his phone. "I'll order a taxi. Your place or mine?"

Victor would have the keys to his chastity cage at his flat, but Shona's flat was a pigsty. "Yours," she said.

She could handle him.

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While you're waiting for the next chapter, read a romance set in Year 15 of the CARGO'verse!!