Please read the previous chapters to understand how I discovered the world of findom and chastity, and how my life changed when my wife found out. I have now agreed to be her cuckold slave, and live locked up in chastity.
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After the changes in our relationship., our life had now settled into what was almost a routine. As far as the outside world was concerned, nothing was different. We both had professional jobs and went to work each day, although our more observant neighbours may have noticed that I now rarely drove, and walked to work most days. What they didn't know was that Louise, my wife, had banned me from using the car, and was also controlling my finances to the extent that I had almost no money available for bus or train fares. She gave me a weekly allowance on my debit card, but also insisted that I continued to send a daily tribute to my online domme, Raven, who would reward me with tasks to complete while I was at work.
Today I received the usual message shortly after getting to my desk, in Raven's inimitable blunt and aggressive style.
"Morning fuckwit - thank you for my morning tea. Go and fill your bottle up, and send me a photo."
One of the rules that Raven had introduced, and which my wife laughingly approved of, was that I could only to drink water during the day from my bottle, which I was only allowed to fill up from the toilet. Luckily I was in the office today - when I was at home, I quite often had to piss in the bowl before I filled the bottle, but at work, they allowed me to at least drink clear water after flushing the toilet. I went to the cubicle, flushed and dunked, clicking a photo on my phone as I did so, which I sent to Raven.
"Very good fuckwit. You will have another task before long."
She liked to keep me in suspense, and I knew that I would get another message at some point, which might be in a few minutes or a few hours. Today she was obviously impatient, as a text came in quite quickly.
"Its CBT Day today - go and punch yourself in the balls 10 times. You have 5 minutes!"
Luckily there was a rarely used disabled toilet in our office block, which had the advantage of being big enough to undress and film. I hurried there, stripped off my trousers, and propped my phone on the shelf. My balls were already echoing from the pressure of the cage I was wearing, and I knew that this was going to hurt, but also knew that I would not be able to get away with faking anything. I took a deep breath, raised my hand and punched myself as hard as possible.
The sharp pain shot through me and I struggled to keep quiet. Biting my lip I hit myself again, a further nine times until I had reached Raven's target, before dropping to my knees in agony. Blinking away tears, I sent the video to Raven, and sat on the floor, getting y breath back. It wasn't long before I got a reply.
"Pathetic - I'm not sure that was very hard. Do it again, but this time use the toilet brush. I want to see it swinging in the air!"
The toilet brush had a long handle, and I realised that if I swung it, there was no way to slow it down and dampen the inevitable pain. Setting up the camera, I swung the brush between my legs, wincing as it struck my aching balls. By the 5th stroke, I had started crying, and when I finally finished I sank to the floor, sobbing with the pain. It took me a while to compose myself after sending the video to Raven, but she was evidently satisfied, as I got a single terse comment in reply.
"Better."
I wasn't surprised when I got a message from Louise later. I knew that she and Raven messaged each other regularly and I guessed that she would have been show the videos. The text from her, was filled with laughter emojis, and a single word.
"Pathetic."
The rest of the day passed without further tasks, and by the time I left to walk home, my balls had stopped aching so much. I had no way of knowing whether Louise would be there when I got back - she often worked late, and in addition, she had taken one her work colleagues as a lover, so they sometimes met after work. She would never tell me in advance what she was doing, and my instructions were always to go home, and wait for her. If she was coming home, she would eventually send me a message telling me what to make her to eat, otherwise I was expected to complete household chores.
At the end of this week, I got home to an empty house on Friday to find a note waiting for me, which simply said;
"Out tonight, not home till tomorrow. Clean my bedroom."
I was only allowed to enter what was now her bedroom by invitation, usually to clean it, make the bed, or take her a morning cup of tea. Since our arrangement had started, Louise did no housework or tidying, and simply dropped her dirty clothes on the floor, so her room was generally a mess when I went in. Today, it was a disaster area, and it took me a couple of hours to pick up and sort out her clothes, polish the surfaces, and make the bed with fresh sheets. I looked at the bed when I had finished, remembering the other lifetime when I had slept in it, with Louise. That was a distant memory now - this was her room, and I was related to a single life next door, in the narrow single bed, locked in my ever-present cage.
There was no sign of Louise the next morning, and I assumed that she had spent the night with her lover. This had only happened a couple of times so far, and I was hoping that it would not be a regular occurrence. She normally arrived home in a taxi, so I was surprised to get a message from her.
"Hilton hotel, Room 241. You may bring the car."
It was very rare now that I was allowed to use the car, and it was always to either take or fetch Louise. I parked at the Hilton and made my way up to the room she had told me, knocking on the door when I arrived. I was astounded when the door was opened by a young woman. It was the assistant from the sex shop where I had been sent to buy my cage, and who Louise had kissed enthusiastically when we left. She was naked apart from a tiny thong, her small breasts pert and tattooed. Wordlessly she pushed the door open and then turned to pad back towards the bed, sliding in next to a grinning Louise who was lying under the covers.
"Morning fuckwit! You can make us both some tea."
