Dean's bottom stung as he sat down on the single bed of his tiny apartment. His abode was no more than a single room with a small kitchenette on one side and a bathroom on the other.
He was supposed to be celebrating freedom from chastity by now but he just rolled his shoulders forward and held his head in his hands. Instead of successfully returning the device of male subjugation to its owner, he had received the most severe spanking of his life.
Lady Lockwood had never been truly angry with him before, at least not like that. He couldn't help but feel like a failure for not living up to her expectations. Despite desperately wanting to be free of her, part of him still needed to make her proud.
He got up and made his way to the shower before taking off his pants. Looking at himself in the mirror, the steel contraption on his cock was like a manifestation of Lady Lockwood's will. The locking mechanism attached the cage to a ring that ran through the head of his cock. Slipping it off without unlocking it was not an option if he wanted to keep his penis intact. Besides, his balls were so painfully swollen that he could never slip them through the locked ring that ensnared them. The locking mechanism had to be released.
Then, a thought occurred to him. He returned to the bedroom to get his phone off his bed, which only required him to take two large steps. He opened his phone to search for something:
Cracking the lock of a Highcoven series X chastity device
Instead of being presented with a list of search results, the following message appeared on the screen, accompanied by the UN government crescent:
You have received a demerit of 500 social credit points for attempting to access terrorist websites. Your hateful actions target vulnerable groups, such as Dibellan femme and those who identify as noblefemme. Unauthorized removal of chastity devices is an attack on the property and identity of these groups. Click here to educate yourself and raise your consciousness so that you may be more sensitive in the future.
"Oh no!" he said.
A sinking feeling swept over him and he cradled his head in his hands.
After a moment he timidly opened the social credit app on his phone to find that his balance was now only 25 points.
"Oh man, still in the green. I can still vote," he spoke out loud to comfort himself.
--
Seven days later.
Dean felt on show sitting behind the glass reception desk at work. Despite it being the end of his first full week, he still felt like an imposter. The boys working in reception were the only males on the entire floor, and that didn't seem strange to anyone.
Every lady on the floor passed by on her way home for the weekend. Most of them stared at him while waiting for the elevator, thinking that he wouldn't notice. Others slipped a quick glance and the occasional lady stopped by for some small talk, to which he felt obliged to be receptive.
"When are you off sweetie?" one lady said.
Dean glanced up from his computer and forced a smile. He could see her friends looking on; half cheering and half mocking her. This lady was one of the oldest femme at the company and still worked in a low level position. Dean couldn't find a reason to be the least bit interested in her. Not to mention her unattractively obese frame. He felt tension in his chest as her eyes ran down his leggings and back up. This was a reminder that the glass desk didn't provide any privacy at all.
"I'm sorry! I won't be clocking off for hours! Maybe next Friday!"
"You sure hon? You could draw the eye of any femme even in your office clothes. You really should relax a little," she smirked playfully.
"I'm really sorry, I just can't make it," Dean did his best to sound disappointed.
"Your loss honey," she replied proudly and turned away.
The one thing almost all of the ladies had in common was that they were above 40 and not particularly attractive. Dean knew that many of them hadn't been able to find a husband due to the gender imbalance in society, and that only seemed to be magnified in the femme-dominated workplace.
"Don't worry about the requisition order, I can complete it," Michael said, "You're due in Lady Patel's office in 2 minutes anyway."
"Oh. Okay, thanks," Dean replied.
He got up and made his way down the hall to the corner office. Pausing outside, he quickly checked his appearance in the reflection of the glass window. He couldn't see inside because all the blinds were down.
He held his breath and knocked twice.
"Come in," Riya called out.
Riya flashed him a smile as he entered.
"Have a seat sweetie," she said softly.
The empty chair was opposite her desk and almost a foot lower than hers. Dean felt even smaller than normal as he looked up at her, waiting for her to speak.
He felt like a loyal subject coming to visit his empress. Despite her blemished skin, portly frame and subtle wrinkles, the forty-something year old had a dignified comportment that Dean found strangely exciting. Shame washed over him as he felt the cage grow tighter, extinguishing a burgeoning erection. This wasn't a reaction that he ever dreamt might be caused by a lady like Riya, but he wasn't that same boy from a sheltered home anymore.
He noticed himself looking for a ring on her finger. While many married femme in this day and age wouldn't wear one, Riya always struck him as the honest old-fashioned type. Her finger was empty, and if she were married, he was sure that she would show it.
"As you know, we are doing our monthly performance appraisals. Despite you having only started last week, I have completed yours also.
I'm quite pleased with your performance, you are picking things up more quickly than we expected. However, I have noticed that you seem very tired during the day."
Dean sat up straight and responded quickly, "Yes, I am taking steps to rectify this. I haven't been able to leave my previous job yet, so I've been doing both."
