My Ex knew me. She knew me better than I knew myself. She knew it had been a deep, disregarded fantasy of mine to be a helpless maid amongst a variety of men and women, all dressed up in pretty outfits demanding drinks and snacks from the maids passing by.
She had, without a doubt, put "the guy" in his place. My cock was completely locked away in full metal, and it would require an ER visit to physically remove the device without a key. I didn't really trust myself with a pair of bolt cutters, especially since the cage was so small and the angle completely awkward.
All of her friends thought it was completely hilarious, of course. They thought I was just an off-the-wall sort of character who liked attention. And it really wouldn't have been that weird, if it hadn't been me and I hadn't been wearing the metal chastity device. I would have thought it completely entertaining for my hot Ex and her hot friends to have some random guy all dressed up as a maid serving drinks to everyone at a Halloween party.
I still hadn't completely adjusted to the new cage, either. In fact, I had never really adjusted to the other plastic cage! Any device that keeps the male organ from attaining its natural state of arousal cannot be gotten used to in my book. I wish I could get adjusted to these devices because then it might not be such a slow, constant, torturous experience.
As it was, I had never dressed in public before. All my dressing had been done in private, maybe amongst a select girl or two who were kinky enough to handle it. This was a completely different environment for me, and I had a feeling certain girls could sense it, especially when I could swear they were whispering to each other after I had walked by.
In reality, I was creating a lot of this in my own head. My Ex had gone shopping and bought me a relatively modest maid outfit for this party. The hem length was long enough and the petticoat offered enough volume to completely hide any trace of a chastity device. Now, if one of the girls got sloppy drunk and started grabbing at my crotch, there was obviously nothing I could do about it.
The top part of the costume covered my chest and shoulders, but my Ex also bought me a nice push-up bra to give the illusion of breasts. Then there was the wig and makeup. I never really was huge on the wig and makeup piece of dressing, but my Ex decided it would all be a fun part of the show to have me completely done up, head to toe.
Hours before the party I was shaving my legs and considering my options. Here I was, a moderately successful IT professional with a nice apartment, car, and income. How easy would it really be for my Ex to bring it all crashing down? She apparently had added my boss as a friend on Facebook. He'd add any girl with a cute ass. Could I find another job, delete my Facebook account, desert my apartment, and run away from all of this?
As I soaked there in the tub, I realized it was a yes and no question -- the same as it had been since this whole thing started. Maybe it was an addiction, an addiction to being denied the pleasure of orgasms while simultaneously being humiliated with wearing the quintessential pieces of what I considered female attire. Would I really want this to end, if I could really make it happen without causing several life altering decision to be made?
The decision was apparently made as I slid the black nylon stockings up my now smooth, soft legs. The metal chastity device glistened in the bathroom light. It was shorter and smaller than the plastic device, allowing no hardness whatsoever. It occurred to me that my Ex had probably spent a generous amount of cash on a device like this, a bill which she hadn't sent my way. My cock bulged against the confines of the cage, wishing against hope for any type of relief, but the metal held firm. The teasing was constant, even more so than the plastic device.
Normally, if I had been going to work or doing something mundane, my cock my get naturally flaccid, but tonight was different. I was shaking by the time I had gotten out of the bathtub. Tonight I would be displayed in front of my Ex, her hot Hooters friends, and all of their male guests. I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't even remember the last time I had had an orgasm at this point, but it felt like it had been over a month. I couldn't remember anything but being insanely horny and both loving and hating my Ex for understanding me more after our relationship had ended.
"I'm going to make you the best looking maid tonight," my Ex said after I had slid the nylons up my now hairless legs. She had her complete make-up kit with her and she was serious. "You do have some nice features, you know, had you been a girl. Might have been a better thing since you won't ever get to use that dick again," she said giggling. "All locked up in chastity, can't even get a boner anymore. Sucks to be you!"
I could only sit there in front of my mirror while she applied the multitude of layers that condone a proper make-up job. The foundation, the blush, the eye liner, the lipstick...and she was an expert. By the time she was done, I could hardly believe the version of me I saw in the mirror.
I dare to say...I looked almost...hot!
However, you could still tell something was off. If you looked hard enough, you could definitely tell something was amiss, but it wasn't obvious by any means. My Ex had done a marvelous job.
"What can I say?" she said sweetly. "Now, get finished dressing up and we'll head over to my place!"
Without messing up the make-up, I finished dressing in the maid uniform my Ex had provided. I slid my apartment key off my usual key ring and put it in the waistband of my pantyhose, hoping I would be dropped off at some point.
"You really want me to go out like this?" I asked, feeling extremely nervous about venturing into the real world with nothing but a maid uniform.
"Um, yes. How else are you going to get to my party?" my Ex said, opening the front door. "You look super hot and no one will know you're not a girl unless they get up very close."
As instructed, I vacated the safe haven of my apartment and ventured into the real world. The wind grazed my legs and I felt it all the way up to my ass, sending tingles down my thighs and to my toes. The feeling was amplified by the pantyhose I was wearing, the shimmery, tight fabric constantly hugging my legs.
Of course, my metal cage was holding firm against the numerous attempts by my cock to get hard. Everything felt a little new to me. Sitting in my Ex's car, feeling the wind around me. At a stop light, a couple of dudes tried to flirt with us. I didn't know what to do. I never considered myself gay, but dressed up like this with my cock all locked away, and not having an orgasm in month, I could actually see myself pleasuring a cock. Shake your head in disgust, if you will, but become horny enough and denied orgasms long enough, and you'd be surprised what leaps your brain will make.
The thought both scared and excited me, but I kept my mind to myself. My Ex did most of the talking.
"Wait until you see my costume! It's so cute. It's a throw back, but it's always a hit and I haven't worn it in years. Now, when we get there, you need to start loading shots onto trays for when the guests arrive. My boyfriend is working late at the gym so he won't be at the party until later. Does it make you nervous to know you'll meet the man with The Cock?" she asked giggling.
And yes, it did!
Like a good little maid, I started filling small paper cups with shots of liquor, allowing me to take my mind off the entire situation. Here I was, dressed up as a French maid, locked up in chastity, and about to serve at my Ex's Halloween party. What could possibly go wrong?
