This story is entirely fictional and is intended as a fantasy in the world of female domination and male submission. It involves tease and denial with the use of a male chastity device, cuckoldry and corporal punishment. No part of this story is written to suggest such lifestyles were realistic or believable. The characters, named and unnamed, are not based on any living or deceased persons. All locations, whether named or otherwise, in this story, including the nation of Siskovia Province, the city of Keara, and Casavana Prison, are also fictitious, and any similarities to any that exist anywhere, are coincidental. If you are not interested in fiction in which males, whether willingly or forced, submit to dominant females, or find such subjects objectionable and in opposition to your own preferences, I would strongly suggest you exercise your right not to read any further.
Chapter 7
The following morning, Cassie woke up cheerfully and didn't even mention what had happened with regard to caning me the night before. She was going back to her flat after breakfast to look through some offers of college courses, leaving me free to work in the gardens that surrounded the apartments. Although I had enjoyed what we'd done together the previous night, and there being no redress with regard to her caning me, I still felt uneasy. I didn't know if she would suddenly react against doing it again, but it was something I knew had to remain a part of my life. That and some aspect of tease and denial, with or without a cock cage.
Our parting was harmonious, and we even arranged to go for a meal the following evening, a rare Friday night off from the bar for her, after which she would stay the weekend. I got myself dressed in suitable clothes for gardening and ventured outside into the pleasant spring day. The warmth of the morning sun was welcoming, and the thought of a few hours out here working hard was so much more positive than working in the sun at Casavana prison, lugging bricks up and down a barren yard.
I have always found this sort of work therapeutic, allowing me to take my mind off any worries resting on my shoulders. It helped a little today, but not completely, as my thoughts switched between the possibilities of life with Cassie and life with Becky. My feelings for Cassie were strong, and when I imagined a future with her, a warmth overcame me, but always with a tinge of doubt concerning my masochistic nature. As that doubt drifted in, it was Becky who came to the forefront of my mind, and I imagined a rekindled future with her. I still felt anger towards her for what she'd done, but it also felt good reminding myself of the excitement of harsh tease and denial she subjected me to. One thought that was becoming more and more pressing was that I was going to have to make a decision soon as to which direction I was going to take. Should I commit my future to Cassie, or should I return to Becky. I couldn't carry on sitting on the fence.
Lunchtime was approaching and I decided to go upstairs, jump in the shower and then have something to eat. The shower felt good, even after a few weeks of being home, I still appreciated how much better it was than the basic shower I'd suffered in Casavana. Dried and dressed in just my shorts, I entered the kitchen area and began getting stuff out of the fridge. Then, the doorbell sounded.
"Hi, David, only me. Can I come up?" the voice chirped as I pressed the intercom button.
"Gina?"
"That's me," she sang, brightly.
What did she want? I pressed the entry button and heard the door open. "Ta," the voice trailed away as she headed for the stairs.
I opened the apartment door as she reached it, and she bounded in happily. She looked around the flat smiling. "All alone."
I wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.
"I thought I'd pop in and see how you were doing," she said, without giving me time to respond.
I suddenly became a bit self-conscious standing there in my bare feet, topless, wearing only a pair shorts after having come out of the shower minutes earlier. She was dressed in smart jeans and a short leather jacket.
"You came to see how I was doing?" I said, frowning. "What do you really want, Gina?"
"Oh, come on, David, no need to be like that. You were a lot more friendly the last time we met."
"I don't recall our last meeting being friendly," I said.
"You acted very friendly towards me," she replied, rubbing her hand sexily between her legs making a gentle 'oo' sound as she closed her eyes. They popped open with a beaming smile. "You must remember."
I did remember the last time we met; it was in the spa at Casavana several months ago with me wearing a chastity device. Gina and Becky had paid me a visit, and Madam Popescu had allowed them to use me as an oral sex tool for their own gratification and to cause me desperate frustration.
"Again. What do you want?"
"Aren't you going to offer a girl a coffee?"
I sighed knowing I was going to have to let her get to the point in her own time. "I don't have enough milk, you'll have to make do with an instant," I said, not wishing to waste a new carton on her.
"That will do nicely," she said, dropping down onto the sofa. "Have you been working out, David? Nice pecks."
I switched on the kettle and grabbed a T-shirt, quickly putting it over my head. "Why are you here, Gina?" I asked again.
"Ok," she said, settling down. "I'll get to the point, and it is out of concern for you as much as Becky. So ... what's going on with you two?"
"I assume you mean me and Becky?"
"I'm not interested in any other girls you have ... connections with."
"How is me and Becky any of your business?"
"For one thing, the Becky half of the pair of you is living with me. Secondly, I'm having to put up with her moping around with a face as long as a ... a long faced thing. When are you two going to pull yourselves together and get over the last two years?"
"She's moping around? The last time I saw her, she looked fine to me."
"Brave face! She's not going to show you how miserable she is, is she?"
I felt myself weakening as concern for her wellbeing rose within me. "She only has herself to blame," I forced myself to say. I didn't want to show any weakness.
"Ok, ok, she made a mistake ..." she started to say as if she was tired of hearing it.
"A mistake? She made a lot of mistakes; big mistakes."
"So, are you going to make her pay for the rest of her life? For the rest of both your lives?"
I pondered her questions. They were the same questions I was asking myself, more and more.