“I’ll be over later,” was all Devina had said when she dropped me off from the airport. She gave no particular explanation, but then why would she? She knew I was in no position to argue about anything.
It’s a very strange thing to feel oneself forced into total compliance. For some, the concept of bondage is accompanied by leather and chains.
“Make no mistake,” I thought to myself, “there are other forms of bondage that are far more effective.”
I would describe the sense that there was no resisting Devina as being something akin to be resigned to compliance. There was simply no reasonable alternative. This was a path down which I would walk, willingly or not. So I might as well go quietly. The presence of the chastity device was almost irrelevant. Sure enough, it provided an undeniable physical block to even the most insignificant sexual pleasure, but had Devina told me not to allow myself a physical release I feel sure it would have been equally effective. I simply had no will to resist.
And yet, as I put away the few things I’d brought back from Miami, I found myself marveling at the fact that, despite all these episodes, I actually looked forward to Devina returning. She’d got so far inside my head as a tormentor and temptress, even as a saviour by springing me from the legal snares I’d fallen into.
Should I hate her? Should I be grateful, or should I desire her? The thoughts tumbled around my head as I pulled on a pale tee shirt, some pink panties and a pair of fitted jeans.
Was this how the subjects of some ancient monarch had felt? Fear, mingled with devotion and almost godlike worship? Devina could almost be a divine being fallen to earth, the power she had over me. I found myself awaiting her with excitement. The realisation made me feel disgusted at myself and excited. She would ask things of me, doubtless. And I would comply. Such was the nature of my connection with this strange and fantastic woman.
When I received a text a couple of hours later telling me that she would be over in an hour, and that I should wear something nice I was both excited and full of trepidation. I wondered what she could mean by ‘something nice’. I decided that with some heels, I looked most acceptable in the jeans. The slight bulge of the cage was barely noticeable, though something I was obviously unable to either escape or forget.
After doing my make up three times entirely differently, I settled on a sculpted look with crimson lipstick. Somewhat conservative, but quite attractive by any standard.
She let herself in using her own key, and walked into the living room. I poured the Earl Grey Tea that I knew she liked and stood waiting to hear what she wanted of me.
“It was a long flight,” she said at length. She took a seat by the window and made herself comfortable.
I remained standing, waiting for her suggestion.
“I’m quite tired, but things are moving rather swiftly. Not made easier, I might add by your ridiculous jaunt to Miami. I would rather you not go off unannounced like that in future. Besides, until this legal mess is cleared up you are in my care, as it were. So, you need to inform me of any plans to leave town. But you won’t make any such plans, will you?”
“No, Devina. I won’t,” I replied very submissively. I felt very contrite about having put her to such trouble.
“Good. Now, I want you to make sure your afternoon on Friday is clear. I have plans for you.”
At that moment her phone rang and she answered it. I stepped across to the kitchen area and made myself busy as she talked, but overheard the one sided conversation.
“Yes, I’m with Andrea now. She’s not really ready yet.”
There was a pause and I could tell there was a discussion going on at the other end of the phone.
“She’ll be there on Friday night. But I can’t see her being a lot of use to anyone.”
The muffled voice went on for a moment or two.
“Well, perhaps she could be useful, then. But we shouldn’t rush it. It has to be done right. I’m not sure she’s ready for The Warehouse yet. It could traumatise her.”
I wondered what she could mean, considering all I’d been through.
“We don’t want to jeopardise her progress. Not after all the work we’ve done,” said Devina, her voice lowered but still audible.
A moment later she ended the conversation and I found myself feeling strangely excited that I’d been the subject of a conversation quite beyond my control. How odd it was that all these feelings of subjugation were so very comfortable for me. It seemed most unlike me. Then I realised, it was unlike Andy. Feelings of submission were quite natural for Andrea. They were not merely natural, they were welcomed.
“I’m going to need you to start doing something for me,” said Devina. “It’s time for you to start dieting. You’re too heavy”
I felt quite insulted at that and glanced at myself in the reflection in the big windows. I supposed I was carrying a few extra pounds. Devina was right, of course. It was time for me to start losing a little weight.
“There’s a pool only two blocks from here, and there’s a nice gym there. I want to hear you’re attending it daily. Now, go and photograph the contents of your fridge and send it to my phone. When you do the same thing tomorrow I want to see some healthy foods. Not that garbage you put inside yourself.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Good. I’ll see you on Friday, but in the meantime be sure you send me a picture of the fridge contents every day. There’s going to be trouble if I find you’re not taking this serious, Andrea.”
With that she got up. For the first time she turned to me and smiled at me with what might be called affection.
“Andrea… yes, you’re going to be just fine.”
She kissed me lightly on the cheek and left, leaving me completely in the dark. As I felt a slight stirring in my groin, the confines of the cage once more made themselves felt.
“Oh god,” I thought. “Can I really be finding Devina desirable?”
I cursed the cage.
It was with some trepidation I waited for Friday. I saw Steve a few times, and we fudged our way through the running of the business though my mind was constantly elsewhere. In one coffee meeting I found my eyes drifting to the waiter. I couldn’t help thinking he seemed a very handsome young man. How odd it was that I should think such thoughts, especially after all I’d been through.
As I walked along the lake side in the park, on the way home, I once more considered how very much I’d changed. Was I being forced into this feminine persona, or was it something I was rushing toward. And all the time, the pink chastity cage confined me. Ever present, reminding me that I was at Devina’s beck and call, and would remain so until she chose to release me.
By lunch time on Friday I was excited and so full of anticipation I could barely contain myself. I received a text just after lunch telling me to put on some stockings, a short skirt, a tee shirt and some heels.
I had no idea what Devina had in mind, but as I thought about it I considered that while humiliation, degradation and anything that might increase my own self loathing seemed to be Devina’s stock in trade, I was strangely excited by the possibilities.
She arrived shortly after four o’clock and inspected me. Apparently I passed muster. My hair was growing longer, and I considered I looked very feminine. I’d spent hours working on my make up. I just longed for an audience, as much as I told myself otherwise. Whatever Devina had in mind for me, I felt sure I was ready for it.
She hurried me down to the parking area where the big grey van was parked. I recognised it from the first time I’d been forced to wear a chastity device. Devina and Dwayne had bundled me into the back on that occasion, and here I was willingly opening the back door and entering.
Dwayne was there waiting. I could see he was ready to grab me if I hesitated, his huge form so very powerful and far beyond my own strength, but instead of running I meekly climbed into the vehicle.
“Sit down here,” he said. “We’ve even got a special chair for you ‘Andrea’.”
I sat on the chair in the back of the van. It resembled a lawn chair but seemed to be sitting in an elaborate frame. As I sat down Dwayne smiled.
“He seems most cooperative,” he said to Devina with a laugh.
“Of course,” she replied.
Dwayne reach down to my ankles and moved them apart. I felt him fasten a cuff around each ankle and tighten a buckle. I sat patiently. I wasn’t afraid. Why should I be?
“Andrea,” he said gently, “place your arms in the rests. And sit back in the chair.”
I did as I was told, and watched as Dwayne fastened first my wrists and then my biceps in cuffs to the chair.
“Tell me if this is too tight,” he said as he placed a collar about my neck, and I felt it secured to the back of the chair.
“It’s fine,” I said.
With that he stepped back and closed the door. I wanted to ask where we were going, but knew I would find out soon enough. I was puzzled by the need for restraints, after all had I not shown my willingness to comply at every step. I had found a way to be accepting with Devina, after all. And Dwayne had used me once, an experience I was not entirely ashamed of. Had we not reached a stage in our relationship where a little trust could not be assumed?
“Are these straps really necessary?” I asked Devina at last, as the van moved through the afternoon traffic.
“Oh no,” she replied not bothering to turn around. “Not just yet.”
“What do you mean,” I said uneasily.
At that moment the van came to a halt. Dwayne climbed into the back, pushed a wad of cloth into my mouth and taking some duct tape from a bag taped my mouth closed. I struggled for a brief moment, and then a hood was placed over my head.
“And yet now,” said Devina, “I would say it is not only necessary. It’s a positive mercy.”
In my blind state I heard the rear doors of the van open. There were voices, several men. And then I felt the chair being lifted and placed on something. Some sort of roller or dolly. Then I found myself being rolled somewhere into a building. I heard the rattle of big roller doors being closed behind me, and then voices. More voices.
I couldn’t make out where I was, but it sounded like I was being brought into a large room, or a gym. And I had no idea where Devina was. I couldn’t hear her, and as I tried to cry out, all I could hear were voices chanting, and shouting as though there were some event, like a boxing match or something.
I realised that the waves of excitement were now replaced by something more extreme. I felt waves of panic. I was alone and restrained. Devina was not here to protect me, and as the sounds become louder and louder I finally panicked and tried to scream.
Among the sounds in the place, wherever it was, I know my desperate cries were lost behind a cacophony of cheers and chanting.
I heard a particularly large cheer go up and then some clapping. I felt things were coming to a conclusion when to my shocked surprise I found the chair was once more moving. I felt it surge forward, there was some cheering, and then the chair was lifted, and suddenly it was skidding across some very flat surface. When it came to a halt I could hear the crowd chanting loudly, and then completely unexpectedly I felt the chair rotate on a spindle, and suddenly I was head down suspended in the frame, yet still bound and held tightly. Now I understood why it had been so modified.
As the crowd began to cheer more loudly I felt the vibration of feet coming closer on what was evidently some kind of staging, and from there on I held my breath as the sound of the audience increased and voices were raised in both cheers and laughter.
I sensed it was going to be a very long night.
The next episode can be found here.
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One Reply to “Clothes Maketh The Man – Part 33.”
I feel so sorry for Andrea, especially being totally coherent, no drugs involved.