Collection: BON4 Male Chastity Devices to stay devoted to your Keyholder

Comeuppance, Chapter 1

Constanza had relegated me the marital doghouse before, but never like this. When I was late on a chore, or dropped a stupid sexist remark I’d get the cold shoulder, no nookie. But never more than overnight until now.

My usual sweet talk hadn’t worked at all Friday or Saturday. When we were in the same room, Constanza glared at me. I ate canned, not her excellent cuisine. Slept on the couch. However,I did understand why she was so upset.

Friday morning, she treated me to a marvelous blow job before work but, as I left, she brought up an old issue. “Keep your mind on your work, not on the office eye candy.” Some months before, I’d mentioned the number of attractive gals in the office, and yes, I used the phrase “eye candy.” Seems I’ll never hear the last of it.

At least she didn’t know about Melanie. Melanie was in her mid-20s, about 10 years younger than Constanza and me. Classic American broad. 5ft. 8 in. or 172 CM, close cropped curly red gold hair on top of a round face with a pixie nose and wide lips. Big bulges that jiggled when she walked. She favored miniskirts, revealing her curvaceous stems.

With assets like that, it came as no surprise she was a bit of an exhibitionist. I managed to get her assigned to the cubical opposite mine. Bless her, she made it obvious that her carelessness with keeping her legs together before standing was deliberate. The unspoken rule was “Look but don’t touch.” Until that Friday afternoon.

I’d called Constanza and told her I’d be working a bit late on a presentation for Monday. That was the truth but then a delightful reality intruded.

By the end of the day, almost everyone had left but Melanie and me. She told me good night, gracing me with an upskirt glimpse. Light pantyhose covered her nearly transparent black bikini. “I’ve got an early date tonight, so I’m going to go change.” “Your date is a lucky man,” I grinned. She smiled back.

Several minutes later, she returned, all dressed up. A low-cut bodice displayed more of her breasts than I’d ever seen. The dress clung to her hips and thighs, ending just above her knees. White stiletto heels replaced the sensible black pumps she’d worn for work.

She raised an eyebrow at me and a funny half smile played across her face. She turned her back and leaned forward with her hands on her knees. “Are my seams straight?” she asked innocently.

OMG! Seamed stockings. A sexy rarity in these politically correct times.

Melanie’s seams ran straight up both legs from the top of the Cuban heel to the first layer of the heavier stocking material near the tops of her legs, exposed for my admiration by her posture.

“They’re pretty crooked,” I lied, hoping she’d adjust them while I watched.

“Dammit, those things are hard to keep straight!” she complained. “I contorted my body to keep them straight and they’re still crooked. I give up! Help me in my hour of need? She straightened up and, hips waggling, lifted her skirt above her stockings, exposing the keyhole of full-fashion stockings and bare thighs above! She wore a lacy but sturdy garter belt. The rear garters snaked down her round butt to grip the top of the seams.

“Yeah, I’d be glad to,” I said enthusiastically as my pants got tight. I knelt behind her and put my hands on one ankle. I’d never touch this beauty before. Clearing my throat, I managed, “Ahem. I… I’ll make sure the fabric is smooth. I slowly moved my hands up and down her calves, savoring the feel of the nylon and the curve of her leg. The only sound was our deep breathing. My hands roamed up her thighs to the welt of her stocking. “This seam appears good, Melanie. I’ll just refasten the garter…”

“What’s going on here?” thundered a voice. Constanza’s!

Shocked, I let go and jumped backwards into my cube, gasping, “it’s not what you think, honey…”

Constanza’s eyes snapped and her voice cracked like a whip.” It looks like you feeling up this bimbo here! I don’t want your lame excuse. ”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” stammered Melanie. “I dressed for a date and asked Mal to check my seams.”

“Shit! Fuck that bullshit and fuck you too, you hussy!” She turned her attention to me. WHAP! She smacked me across the face as hard as she could.

“Oww!: I cried out. “It’s true, let me explain…”

“When I want to hear anything from you, I’ll tell you to speak. Until then shut up. And you don’t get any of this food that I brought you,” she said indicating a bag of take-out from our favorite Italian restaurant. “Out you go, and go straight home, Mister, if you know what’s good for you.” She stood aside gesturing towards the exit.

Meekly, not looking at Melanie, I slunk out of there. Constanza followed me into the elevator, glaring. She watched me get in my car before stalking angrily to her own.

Hoo boy, you’re in for it now, Malcolm, I told myself on the way home. Constanza seldom swore and had never slapped me.

Friday night, all day Saturday, my stumbling attempts to apologize were rebuffed without a word. Constanza simply left the area, closing doors behind her. Cowed, I was as quiet and unobtrusive as possible all weekend.

Midmorning Sunday, I heard someone on the front porch and went to investigate. Constanza was there ahead of me, accepting a small white box from a delivery person. Without a glance at me, she took it into the bedroom. I went back to my den to work on my apology letter.

More than an hour later, Constanza summoned me to the living room. When I arrived, I was pleased to see she’d abandoned the shapeless sweats she’d worn all weekend for a white pleated miniskirt and a low-cut halter. Perhaps her heart melted. She looked sexy as hell, normal for her. The glare again met my eyes, so I simply murmured, “What is it, my love?”

In her hands she held a blindfold she used it to sleep in the car or on planes. In the other, a small black velour bag with yellow writing I couldn’t make out. She stood in front of the couch, pointing in front of her. “Stand with your back to me.”

When I obeyed, she slipped the blindfold over my eyes. “ Hands behind your back and face me. Don’t move.”

I stood as she wished and said, “Whatever you say, Constanza.”

“Shut up. Speak when given permission. Move when given permission.”

I gulped but said nothing. To my surprise, she undid my belt and pulled my pants and shorts down, but then tightened my belt just above my knees, essentially immobilizing me.

Wordlessly, Constanza wrapped her hand around the base of my cock, behind my scrotum. I hope she’d start to play, but she let go. I heard a few small pieces of metal jingling together, wondering what it was all about. Then I felt something cold and hard sliding behind my ball sack, encasing the base of my dick. Oh, I thought a cock ring. Fun and games, I hope.

Then, she held my shaft and slipped something, also cold and hard all along my length.

“Hold still, she said, though I had not dared to move.

She fidgeted about for a moment and I heard a distinct metallic click.

“Remove your blindfold but don’t speak. Listen.”

My uncovered eyes saw my cock encased in a silver metal cage, secured by a tiny lock! “Wha…”

“I told you to listen. Your cock got you in trouble, so your cock and your whole body gets punished! Whatever you say, I know you wanted to fuck that brazen bitch. You won’t with that thing holding you. Besides, I’m sick of our sex being all about you! Jerking off to porn in your den, sometimes you can’t even get it up. You’re all about blow jobs and orgasms for you and something for me when you deign to fuck me. A few weeks of caged obedience will change your tune! I’m through with you for now. Leave me.”

Utterly humiliated, shocked and confused, I shuffled out, head bowed, avoiding her gaze.

Later, inspection in the bathroom with a mirror revealed she’d put me in something called a BON4ML. A few minutes research informed me that I was trapped in an unbreakable cage of steel. The website reinforced what I already knew. Constanza now fully controlled my sexuality. What would she do with her newfound power?