Shona's Surprising Slave - Chapter 36

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

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Chapter 36

(For those who’ve just tuned in, this takes place in the CARGO’verse where male chastity and gender flipped trad marriage are enforced by a new law. Rest of story here.)

Hal --- naked except for his gold-tinted collar and permanent chastity cage --- served Mistress as she at the dining table. As she ate, she listened to the financial news on her phone. He stood behind and out of her eye line, ready to top up her glass or dish out more curry.

Hal's treacherous caged penis kept cycling through hardening, leaking, subsiding... but that was just old habit, wasn't it?

There was --- he told himself --- nothing erotic about this situation. He was being coerced and abused and that was that.

Outside, the sun started to set over the office buildings. The lights came on.

It was getting closer to the time she would truly cross the line by beating him. Every other time there'd been at least a slither of his consent and on some level he'd always craved what she dished out.

This time... This time he couldn't think beyond what was going to happen to him.

He shuddered.

Mistress didn't look at him as he took away the dishes.

In the kitchen, Hal rummaged in the freezer while his neutered genitals swung free, dripping on the floor. He mopped up the white splashes. There was a felt weird nightmare quality to be leaky and scared in this banal room with its antiseptic surfaces and stainless steel appliances.

As he served the Kulfi pistachio ice cream, he realised that the colour matched that of her olive vintage dress.

Somehow that made him really see her: neat and fashionable in her workwear... one of the confident... adults you saw striding through the business district... solvent... moving forward... in control of her life.

And there was Hal, naked, collared and caged, unsure of everything, with no money, no career, no control. No leverage over anything or anybody.

No wonder she didn't bother looking at him.

She did this to me!

Had she? Really?

Mistress finished her ice cream. "Take it away, slave, then clean yourself up and come back."

Hal washed in the hall bathroom, trying not to see himself in the mirror. He wiped away the leaking semen, took a pee... It felt like his last.

Back in the lounge, he found Mistress in her stockinged feet, sprawled on the sofa watching some bonkbuster saga on TV. She froze it with the virile alpha male lead taking a hot stable girl from behind.

"Draw the curtains," she said, reading from her phone. "Take down the chair as normal."

Hal closed the curtains on the outside world then unhooked the wicker hanging chair. The sight of the ceiling hook was enough bring back the memory of her pressing his red button and starting all this.

Damn her.

"Is this really who you are, Shona?" he said, then winced at his own temerity.

"...who you are, Mistress?" she corrected, mimicking his accent. "Of course it fucking is. I don't have a better nature. Not for men, especially not for ones that dick me around. Now... shift the mirror into the window so you'll be facing it."

Hal did as he was bidden. The mirror was full-length and there would be no avoiding watching what was going to happen him.

His hands were shaking. "I'm not doing this," he stammered.

"Then you can go back on the street, slave," she said, without looking up, without raising her voice. "The restraints are in the locked Ottoman, code 1234."

"Go to..." His shoulders sagged. Anything was better than the last year. Maybe the whipping wouldn't be so bad?

Mistress ignored him and unpaused her show.

While the screen couple had loud --- unlocked --- sex, Hal opened the Ottoman. It contained new bondage gear, a bundle of whips and a...

"The Dong Thong first," said Mistress over the racket.

It was his dong thong, the one Tabitha had made for him with a replica of his intact penis.

He struggled into the tight webbing, tugged his caged package into the fake scrotum then looked at himself in the mirror:

There was his penis, erect and strong and free. It was like seeing back in time to the point when he was whole.

On screen, the man had an epic orgasm.

Hal's caged penis pulsed in sympathy. "No," he said. "I'm not having sex with you."

"I'd not notice if you did." Mistress laughed. "You're hardly equipped for fucking... Gag next."

It was an anatomical ball gag, and it filled his mouth. He tightened the straps and felt... erased?

"Spreader then wrists and hook on," ordered Mistress.

The spreader bar itself seemed short, but Hal mutely did as he was told and strapped his ankles in. The cuffs were high-end padded leather and Velcro. They went on easily enough. The short chain connecting the cuffs already had a panic snap clipped to it. It was really easy to stand up and clip that to the ceiling chain. It would be equally easy for him to unsnap it and free himself if Mistress went too far. Maybe this really wouldn't be too bad after all?

Mistress switched off the television and paced over to loom over him. Her clothes smelled of the office --- coffee and synthetics with a hint of stale sweat.

He forced himself to crane his neck and meet her gaze.

Mistress's big green eyes narrowed. She pinched his nipple and twisted, hard.

Hal yelped into his gag, tried to leap away.

The spreader bar between his ankles rattled and clicked.

As the ceiling chain brought him up short, Hal realised that the spreader had lengthened. It had some sort of one-way ratchet.

Mistress laughed and kicked his ankles further apart.

He tried to tense against her.

She slapped his face and kicked harder. The spreader clicked and he was trapped in a taut inverted Y. The panic snap was now several inches from his fingers.

Hal was completely trapped.

Mistress checked her phone again --- was she following some sort of script? --- and fished the nipple clamps out of the Ottoman.

Hal flinched away. He tried to lift his legs, but they were too spread out for him to bend his knees.

Mistress applied the clip to one nipple and the other.

It stung, but it also sent sharp tendrils to his caged groin. His hips twitched futilely, humping the air with the dildo.

"Wriggle all you like," she said. She slapped the prosthetic, making it wobble. "There's no fucking orgasm for you ever."

Hal sobbed. The gag rendered the sound into a sort of "Mewp!"

"Pathetic," said Mistress. She turned around and padded out of the lounge leaving Hal to stare at himself in the mirror: chained, gagged, and quivering pathetically --- yes that was the word --- from the sensations emanating from his tortured nipples --- and erect.

Hal's caged groin was a knot of hardness and there was his penis sticking up, erect.

Since he couldn't touch it, the illusion was perfect. Hal's old self stared back at him.

Despite what Mistress had said, it wasn't actually a small penis. He knew for a fact that he was statistically above average!

The gag was making Hal's mouth water. He swallowed the saliva as best he could. His arms started to ache so he braced his feet to take the strain off them and wriggled his fingers. He dare not get cramp...

And his gaze kept getting drawn back to "his" erection. He'd never seen another man's hard-on in person, and never really spent this much time contemplating his own in the mirror.

His cock might be above average. However it seemed puny compared to the dildos he'd worn for those of his chaste-loving women --- the Virgos --- who'd enjoyed penetration.

Most Virgos were like Mistress's friend Angela and the ladies in the library and maybe WingedHussy. For them, chastity was about the absence of anything like a penis. However, a minority, like Colleen... that plump vicar, Tabitha and Mistress did enjoy fucking. They invariably choose a prosthetic penis that dwarfed Hal's natural offering.

No, Hal wasn't technically small.

However, he was woefully under-endowed to serve the kind of women he was attracted to.

And there was the term serve.

He'd enjoyed serving Mistress when it was a choice, and been content during his time as Stacy and Jo's live in housekeeper.

Is this who I truly am?

Yes, because service was the only love language left to him,

Thanks to Mistress.

Thanks to Shona.

When she'd pressed his red button, sealing him into the chastity device, she'd not just neutered him for all practical purposes, she'd also destroyed him, reduced him to this.

His ears registered her heavy tread in the hall.

The redhead Amazon was coming to beat him bloody.

His pierced penis shrivelled against its hook. His pulse rushed in his ears. The breath hissed through his nostrils.

Hal wanted to be elsewhere, even back on the street.

Anywhere but this.

Hal thrashed in his bonds, screamed with his throat, bit down on the gag until his jaw ached.

He didn't even manage to lift a bare foot off the floor.

He could only slump in his chains and listen as the handle of the lounge door turned while the reflection of his replica penis mocked.

And he could hate her.

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