When Ian makes a magnaninous offer to his wife in order to save his marriage, he little realises the repercussions

THE KEYS TO THE CROWN JEWELS
BY LIN DALE

PROLOGUE BY RACHEL
IAN’S STORY
EPILOGUE – RACHEL’S STORY

PROLOGUE BY RACHEL

My co-worker, Ian Brown, and I had got on really well for the five months we'd worked together. Then, over the last few weeks, I'd noticed that he'd been very twitchy about something. I guessed it was marriage problems, and although we talked openly about most things, he clearly didn't want to share that information with me. I really wanted to help him but realised there was little I could do if he didn't want to talk about it.

IAN’S STORY

Chapter 1 – The green-eyed monster

Jealousy is a terrible monster. Once it gains hold, it's almost impossible to let it go. So much suspicion is thrown by the accuser that it becomes self-defeating; the accused can be driven away by the overwhelming love of the accuser. Even an act of love by the accused, for example a bunch of flowers, is taken as a virtual admission of guilt.

So it was with my wife, Sarah. She had become convinced that I was having an affair with Rachel, at work. OK, Rachel was a fun person to work with and looked very sexy, her skin was as black as ebony and, as black skin often is, absolutely perfect. She’d reached that stage where her boobs and bum had filled out without her tummy yet catching up, giving her an hourglass figure. But she had a partner and so did I. I had nothing to hide from Sarah so I didn't try to. I made no secret of the fact that Rachel and I got on well and shared a small office, just as there were several men in the offices where Sarah worked, and she never hid that from me. Sarah’s first suspicions started when she met Rachel at a company function and Rachel revealed she lived with her partner in a flat just five minutes from our office.

So the monster took a hold. Sarah became convinced that Rachel and I were popping out of the office to her flat and having passionate sex. She was becoming obsessive to the point where I was fearing for her mental health. If my homecoming train was late by more than a few minutes, and that was a fairly common occurrence, Sarah would go into a screaming fit, sometimes throwing things at me.

It came to a head one Friday evening and I decided I had a choice: I could walk out of our relationship; or I could make a sacrifice.

"Would you like me to wear a chastity device to work?" I offered.

"What?" Sarah looked puzzled.

"You heard. I'm prepared to wear a chastity device when I go to work and you keep the key."

"Surely they were for women, and disappeared in the middle ages."

I'd already done some research and showed her one of the many web pages where such items could be bought.

"Do they really work?"

I shrugged. "I think it depends on the device and how well it fits. Why don't we purchase one and we can give it a try."

"OK, Ian," she said, as she scrolled through the several pages showing dozens of chastity devices of every type. "But don't even think about those plastic ones. Obviously, you could smash your way out of one of those in seconds."

"Yes," I agreed, "but if I did manage to smash it without damaging the very sensitive parts of my anatomy inside, I'd have to come home and you would see I was no longer chastity intacta. It would be obvious that I'd broken out."

"Not if you‘d bought an identical device with the same lock," Sarah argued. "You could put the new one on and I'd be none the wiser. In any case, it would be too late, then, wouldn't it? You'd have some excuse that you caught it in the pencil sharpener in the office, which I wouldn't believe, and I would know you had committed adultery. Let's choose one of those metal ones. Some look really strong."

"You choose," I said. "My only criteria is that it must be comfortable to wear all day. I'm not having one of these things where they stick a tube down the urethra or are designed to torture the victim."

"Fair enough," Sarah said. "You go away and I’ll choose one which meets your stipulations. I don’t want you to know where I buy this from so you can sneakily contact them and get another key."

"Er, right." That took me rather by surprise but I could see her point. After all, the whole purpose of the exercise was to reassure her I wasn’t having sex with Rachel or anyone else. She had to know I couldn’t cheat on the deal.

"I’ll see if I can get next day delivery," she said. "That’ll give time for me to make certain it's secure, and there's no way you can wriggle out."

"OK," I agreed, "but our deal is that normally I only wear this for work. I'm not wearing it when I'm at home, except on this one occasion to test it to your satisfaction."

"Thanks, darling," Sarah said. "Maybe I have been too suspicious about you and Rachel. Let's hope this is a new start."

"It's a deal," I said.

***

To be honest, I was quite aroused at the very idea of wearing a chastity device. It's one of those weird things about male psyche; whilst sex is in abundance, you become quite casual about it, but when it's denied, it becomes an obsessive need.

How was I going to find it when I went to work and Rachel was wearing one of her low cut tops? Incidentally, I never told Sarah about those. All the same, Sarah and I had been together for many years and, apart from the jealousy, we got on well together. I always had been faithful, although to be honest, that was probably more because I was pretty useless at chatting up women. If Rachel had suddenly flung her body at me, would I really have resisted? Well, I'd have no choice now.

Chapter 2 – An introduction to chastity

Next day was Saturday and the parcel arrived mid-morning. Sarah rapidly grabbed it out of my hands before I could open it; I think because she wanted to ensure I couldn't make any attempt to cheat with it. Little did she realise how secure the damn thing would be.

"Let’s go upstairs and you can lie on the bed while I fit it," she said.

"I think it will probably need to be a joint exercise," I said. "From what I’ve read, they’re quite fiddly to put on."

"That’s one of the reasons why I chose this one," she said. "It’s supposed to be really easy."

"Hmm," I grunted, thinking I’d believe that when I saw it.

"It says I may need some ice to take off your erection." She smiled sweetly at me. "Do you want to get some from the fridge?"

"OK, as long as I administer the ice," I said.

So I went and got a bowl of ice, then went upstairs, removed my clothes from the waist downwards and lay on the bed, where Sarah had already laid out a large towel. She pulled the stool to the side of the bed, keeping the contents of the box from my view, which I was a bit suspicious about. I’d have to make certain there wasn’t anything nasty about this device before she locked me into it.

"He’s looking very excited," she said, smiling down at my cock. "Little does he know."

A fit of nervousness ran through me. "Look, Sarah. We agreed no torture devices. Will you let me see what you’re going to put on me?" I reached towards the box but she snatched it away from me.

"I swear to you, Ian, there’s no nastiness involved with this device other than that he won’t be able to get hard and say hello to any little pussies whilst he's inside it. But I want it to be a nice surprise for you so you’ll just have to trust me. Now, can you spread your legs wide and then use the ice, please."

I’d talked myself into this position, I realised. I had no choice but to go through with it. I spread my legs as wide as they’d go, reached for the ice and tentatively put a cube against my cock. It was cold, but not much happened.

"For heaven's sake, Ian. Don’t be such a wimp."

I took another ice cube and put it against the other side of my cock. Still no reaction.

"Oh, come here," she said, taking the bowl of ice, putting it between my legs and then shoving the whole lot up against my genitals.

"Agh!" I yelled.

"Don’t be such a baby," Sarah said. "See. It’s done the trick."

It had, too. She grabbed the towel and gave everything a rather rough dry off. "Now," she said, "let's introduce little Percy to his new friend."

She dipped her hands into the box and brought them out almost totally concealing the device, except for a couple of metal jaws similar to handcuffs. She turned her back on me and carefully lifted my testicles, pushed the cuffs against my shaft and they sprang shut around it.

"That's not uncomfortable for you, is it?" she asked.

"No," I admitted. "That's all right."

"OK, I'm going to close the cover, now." She moved her torso to get a slightly easier line for her but which prevented me seeing what was happening. I could feel something sliding over the upper side of my penis, pushing it backwards between my legs, and then there was another push, squeezing my cock against my testicles and a click. "That's not too tight for you, darling, is it?" Sarah asked.

"No," I said. "It feels all right at the moment. Can I see it?"

"Of course," she said. "I think you'll be impressed with your new whagina." (At least, that's what it sounded like.)

"My new what?" I asked.

This time she pronounced it more carefully. "Your new Y-gina," she said. "It's a vagina for people with a Y-chromosome. Don't you think it's beautiful?"

She moved aside so I could see between my legs. Instead of my caged cock and balls, there was a female pussy!

"Hell, Sarah," I yelled. "I didn't give you permission to change my sex."

"It's all right," she said. "I haven't really chopped off your cock and replaced it with a vagina. It only looks that way. But when I saw it, I thought it was really beautiful, much nicer than seeing all your male bits caged up. And if you're telling me the truth, then I'm the only one who's going to see it. On the other hand, if you are having an affair with Rachel, she's going to laugh her tits off when she sees that. Now for heaven's sake lighten up a little. Why don’t you give your new pussy a little stroke, just to say hello to her. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in each other’s company."

I reached my hand downwards to touch the contraption, thinking that although it looked like a pussy, it would simply be painted steel. Instead, it was soft to touch, just like a real pussy. Suddenly, Percy was getting rock hard - except that he wasn’t!

"Oh my God!" I moaned, doubling upwards as the pain exploded in my cock. "Take it off. Take it off. It’s killing me."

"Don’t be silly," she said, standing up. "This was your idea and that is something you’re going to have to get used to. I’ll leave you alone for a while. When things have calmed down, I want you to try to remove it."

"You can’t leave me like this," I said.

"You’re going to have to get used to experiencing these little twinges and dealing with them," she said. "I’m going to pop out to the shops now. If you’re still wearing that thing when I come back, I really fancy some lesbian sex. That should be incentive enough for you to wriggle out of it, before I come back."

"You can’t leave me locked in this," I yelled. "We agreed. I’d only wear this whilst I was at work, not about the house."

"But you agreed," Sarah pointed out, "that you’d also wear it this until I was satisfied you can’t escape, and I’m not yet satisfied." She left the room, re-entering a minute later with an envelope. She held it up so I could read our own address which she had written on it.

"I’ll make certain it goes in today's post with a first class stamp so it should be delivered on Monday."

"What should be delivered on Monday?"

She smiled, lifted the flap of the envelope and then popped the keys to the chastity device inside before sealing it. "Got to dash so I catch the post," she said, as I yelled, "No!"

She was out the door and down the stairs before I was off the bed. As I chased her down the stairs, I could hear the car starting and driving off.

I was trapped in this horrible device until I got home from work on Monday! Unless I really could manage to wriggle out of it.

Chapter 3 – No escape

Sarah must have had her lunch, for she was gone over two hours. During that time I researched the internet on how to remove a chastity device. The problem was that most chastity devices contain the cock in some kind of cage, through which one could use the backend of a teaspoon to push it out. Mine was totally encased by the pussy. After finding the Y-gina on the internet, I discovered that the soft silicone pussy concealed an armoured steel box beneath, with handcuff-level security.

As I heard our car drive up, I knew that within minutes, the blood would be rushing through my genitals, engorging them and making everything super sensitive. In the normal course of events, that would be wonderful, but when your cock is trapped in a small steel box, it is a terrifying thought.

"Hello darling," she called out. "Have you got it off, yet?"

"No, I haven’t," I shouted back, hurriedly locking the bathroom door. "And I’m not letting you make me have another erection."

"Don’t be silly, darling. Let me see you’re still wearing it." She rattled the bathroom door handle.

"It’s no good," I yelled. "I’m staying here until the post arrives on Monday. You’re not going to make me have another erection." But as I said the words, I could recognise their futility. I couldn’t spend the next two days in there. I couldn’t prevent Sarah trying to get me hard again.

I realised my words were even more futile when the lock turned by itself and the door opened revealing Sarah holding a coin.

"I had to learn how to do that when my young brother used to get locked in the bathroom," she said. "He was forever doing that."

She nodded down at the Y-gina. "You’re right. You haven’t managed to remove it. I reckon that passes my test."

"It’s a bit late for that," I said. "The keys are in the post and I’m trapped in this until Mon..."

My words dried up as Sarah held out a pair of keys. "I had to put you under pressure," she said, "just to ensure you weren’t cheating me. But seeing the state you’re in, I think you really are stuck in that thing.

"Do you know," she continued, "just thinking about your cock all locked up inside this pussy, with me holding the keys has made me feel incredibly randy. Shall we release the Y-gina and give your cock a bit of TLC?"

I should have been furious with her but I was so grateful to be released, and Percy immediately sprang erect, that it seemed churlish not to jump into bed with Sarah and celebrate Percy’s equivalent of The Great Escape.

Chapter 4 – My chaste day at work

So all thoughts of chastity devices were pushed aside until Monday morning, when I showered and then returned to the bedroom and said, just to make things absolutely clear, "OK, Sarah. Do you want to lock me in, on the strict understanding that you’ll release me as soon as I arrive home this evening? No more tests to destruction. Agreed?"

Sarah got out of bed and kissed me in the lips. "Agreed, darling. No matter what, I release you when you arrive home this evening."

Being able to watch it this time, I certainly had to admit it was simplicity itself. The handcuff jaws ratcheted closed around the base of my shaft, my cock and balls were pushed inside the steel box from the underside, and then the box hinged downwards to click into the handcuff.

It was self-locking so she didn't have to turn the key in the lock. She tossed the pair of keys onto her bedside cabinet.

My eyes followed the keys' parabola, and her eyes followed mine. "And don’t even think about nicking the key," she said. "Otherwise, it will make me think you’re cheating on me." She picked up the keys and put it into her dressing gown pocket.

"You need to find somewhere safe to hide the spare key," I said, "just in case you lose the one you use every day."

"So you can then search the house and find it? You must think I'm mad."

"It's such a tiny key," I pointed out. "You could hide it almost anywhere and make it impossible to find."

She sniffed but was obviously considering the idea.

I left for work feeling apprehensive that I was leaving control of my genitals behind.

***

I managed all day at work using the simple technique of not looking too much at women, or rather not concentrating on their sexual qualities. So I made certain I looked them in the eye, rather than continually checking out their boobs or their legs. In that way, I managed all day without any serious erections.

So I was feeling rather pleased with myself when I got home, having avoided a single painful erection. It was ruined as soon as I entered the house.

"Hi, darling. I’m home."

"I’m up in the bedroom."

Naturally, I didn’t waste time pouring out my normal post work glass of wine. Instead I raced upstairs to find Sarah wearing one of her sexiest nightdresses and nothing else.

"Hello, darling." Her normal brief peck on my cheek became a mouth on mouth assault, pulling my body into hers so I could feel every inch of her.

"Agh!" I tried to yell, but her tongue slid into my mouth and silenced me briefly. Then the pain became too much and I had to push her away as I collapsed on the bed.

"Oh, you don’t want me," she said, putting on her offended look. "In that case I’ll go away."

"No," I said "Please let me out of this contraption, then I can really show my love for you."

"Well, if you really want to make it up to me, I suppose we could start with a little soixante-neuf."

"But we agreed the chastity device would come off as soon as I got home."

"Oh darling. Surely you’re not objecting to a little fun along the way."

I sighed as I stripped off and lay on the bed.

***

"So darling," Sarah said some time later, after the device had been removed and mutual satisfaction had been reached – several times in Sarah’s case. "How was your chaste day at work?"

"It went OK, I guess," I said. "No one noticed my rather different shape down below. Obviously, I had to use a WC rather than a urinal, which was a bit inconvenient."

"Now you know what it’s like for a woman," Sarah chipped in. "Was Rachel disappointed she couldn’t have sex with you?"

"Rachel never has sex with me." I’d said it a hundred times before. "So it was no different from usual."

"But I thought men had hard-ons every five minutes," she said.

"It was a matter of mind over matter," I said.

"So it didn’t matter," Sarah said. "That’s great. Do you know, today instead of thinking about you and Rachel bonking, I’ve had a really pleasant day, culminating in a good bonking with my man before seven. I call that a result, don’t you?"

I smiled at her. "Yes, I do, so why don’t we have a little more..."

"Sorry," she said. "I’ve left something cooking in the oven. I need to go down and take it out. But you’ll continue with the Y-gina, tomorrow, won’t you?"

I nodded. "If it makes you happy then I’m in."

"Brilliant." She gave me a smirk as she disappeared out the door.

Chapter 5 – Stretching the boundaries

Things continued in this way for over a week. I wore the device to work every day and our sex life improved a hundred times over. Sarah, has always been quite timid with low self-esteem. Having control over my penis gave her a sexual buzz and she got on a high by teasing and tormenting me.

I’d read enough stuff on the internet about relationships turning into dominants and submissives, but in our case, it wasn't going beyond teasing followed by eventual release and fantastic sex. She became much more of a person who knew her own desires and a better person for it.

After a few days, I did complain that her teasing was going beyond our original agreement; that I’d be released as soon as I arrived home from work. I made certain this was at the end of our sex play, and I was out of the Y-gina before doing so.

"You’re absolutely right, Ian, but you can’t deny our sex life has come alive again. For me, I'm enjoying it more now than ever I have before. So I’m asking – no, begging you – to agree a change to our agreement. Rather than unlocking you as soon as you get home, I keep you locked up until, say, ten-thirty.

"Yes," she continued, "that means I’ll probably be sexually tormenting you for hours at a time, but can you deny you are loving it? So what do you say?"

"The Y-gina certainly has done wonders for our lives," I agreed. "Yes, it’s incredibly frustrating for me whilst you’re tormenting me, but it’s always wonderful at the end. So, OK, I’ll agree to change my freedom time to ten-thirty but not indefinitely. I can change it back at any time."

"That’s no good," Sarah pointed out. "You could just say that anytime you wanted me to let you out. How about you have to tell me the day before? Then I’ll have all night to work on you to get you to change your mind."

I nodded. "That sounds fair enough."

***

The next day when I arrived home, Sarah was in her Sexy Secretary gear, with a white low cut blouse and a short black skirt with high heels and seamed stockings. I could see they were stockings rather than tights for as she swivelled around, the skirt lifted to expose suspenders. Beneath the blouse, she wore one of those thin bras and I saw her nipples harden as she saw my reaction.

"Hello, darling. Since you’re not getting sex at the office now, I thought you might like me to take something down for you."

I gulped and sat down in a kitchen chair. It was going to be a long evening.

She pranced over to me, clicking her high heels, and stretched one long, stockinged leg over me so she could sit on my lap. "Mmm, I'm glad there's nothing hard there to make me uncomfortable. Isn't it nice having a little pussy? But I’m afraid this secretary needs her pencil rubbers licking. Do you think you could do that for me?" She slid her hand into the top of her blouse and pulled out one of her magnificent breasts. "Could you suck on this, please sir?"

I was going to scream but she slipped her tit in my mouth before I could utter a sound.

Chapter 6 – My new lingerie

Every Tuesday, Sarah went to French lessons at a local college. She normally left about six-thirty and got back around nine-thirty so the first week I’d got home and she’d removed the Y-gina before she left for college. Of course, the following week, it meant I’d be on my own locked in to the Y-gina, which wouldn’t be much fun. I suggested to Sarah that she release me before she left for the class.

"That’s not what we agreed, Ian," she said. "OK, I’m not going to be here so you’ll have a break from my tormenting, but don’t think you can stay at home and masturbate."

"As if," I said when that had been exactly my plan. Even though I was having sex every night, it still wasn’t enough. But then, the effects of denial always meant you needed it more.

"Just to teach you not to try it on like that again, maybe I’ll go for a drink with the others afterwards."

"But we agreed..."

"That I’ll unlock you by ten-thirty," Sarah said. "And I’ll try to be home by then." But she said it in a voice that meant she wouldn’t try very hard. I shivered with frustration.

***

"Hello, darling," Sarah said, waking me from my slumber in front of the TV set. It was just gone ten. "At the pub tonight, I agreed to host a meeting tomorrow evening. The tutor has asked for our feedback on next year’s options, so we need to discuss where we want the course to go. I thought you could serve the drinks for us."

"Sure," I said. "Does that mean you want me out of the way when I’m not serving?"

"Would you mind? Emma may bring some things along she wants to show us."

"No problem," I said. "I shall be your wine waiter."

"In the meantime," she said, "we have thirty minutes before Open Sesame time so I want you to start licking my toes and work your way up."

***

We agreed I would be based in the kitchen with the drinks, then as people arrived, Sarah would do the meet and greet, take their orders and call them through to me. I’d bring the drinks into the lounge before returning to the kitchen and getting more drinks.

As the doorbell started ringing, I noticed how attractive all the women were, but maybe that was just me. I’d deliberately avoided looking at women at work because not only was it painful but I knew I could do nothing about it. With Sarah, I’d learnt to accept the pain, knowing that at the end of the evening, it would be worth it. So maybe, with joyful relief just a few hours away, I was looking at women as women, again.

Anyway, I served the drinks, and they were all on red or white wine, which made it fairly easy for the initial serving. Then, as they started to discuss the French lessons, I toured the room topping up everyone’s glasses and then withdrew, closing the door on them.

Sarah had prepared several trays of snick-snacks and left some in the kitchen for me, so I nibbled those whilst also checking the quality of the white wine I’d just poured.

It didn’t take me long to finish my first glass and I was halfway through my second when I heard Sarah calling for me to come and top up their glasses. They were getting through their drinks as quickly as I was, I thought.

So I opened the lounge door, stepped inside and was about to offer the bottle of white to the nearest guest, when I realised she’d removed the top and skirt she’d arrived in and was sitting there in her underwear!

"White again, Val?" I queried, with barely a blink.

She smiled sweetly up at me. "Yes please, Ian."

I turned to the next guest, who was wearing just a black peekaboo bra with the nipples exposed, black panties, suspenders belt and stockings. "Er, was it red for you, Sharon?"

Another sweet smile. "Yes please, Ian."

Sarah was sitting next to Sharon, but she was wearing a red lace up corset. "OK," I said. "What’s going on?"

I glanced around the rest of the room to find every one of them dressed in sexy underwear.

"I told you last night," Sarah said. "We were going to briefly discuss next year’s French class and then Emma is bringing some lingerie to demonstrate. So this is the lingerie party."

She gave a wave around and I had another look at the women surrounding me. Jesus, my cock hurt as it tried to react exactly as cocks are meant to do.

"I’ll have white wine again," Sarah said, holding out her glass.

I topped her up and moved onto Emma, sitting next to her.

"Red, please, Ian," she said. "I have got some men’s things with me. It would be great if you’d model them for us."

"Thanks, Emma," I said as I poured her wine, "but no thanks."

"Oh, go on," Sarah said, and suddenly everyone else was saying the same and cheering me on.

"I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look at them," I said.

"I’ve got some very sexy pyjamas that would really suit you," Emma said, delving into a large suitcase she had beside her. She pulled out a pastel blue pair of garments made of a silky material and let the top unfold from her hands. It bore a picture of a huge bull with a large penis fucking a cow, along with the words, ‘I’m all bull.’

"I’d love my man to wear these," Emma added.

"I don’t think so," I responded, just as Sarah said, "Oh, they’d look really good on you, Ian. Come on, let’s go outside to the kitchen and put them on." She took the pyjamas from Emma.

"Er, well…" I was saying, as Sarah took me by the elbow and propelled me out of the lounge, still clutching my wine bottles, having filled up only half the glasses.

"Honestly, Ian, everyone was being so cooperative in there, trying on all the stuff Emma brought with her, and there’s you putting a wet blanket over everything. Now strip off and put these on."

She’d taken the bottles of wine from my hands and put them on the counter, and then almost simultaneously undone the belt and fastening of my trousers while lifting my tee shirt over my head. My shoes and socks were removed as one and suddenly I was standing naked in the kitchen with the blinds all open, exposing my Y-gina.

"Come on, Ian. Put your arms through here..." the pyjama top went over my head, "now step into these." The bottoms were pulled up my legs, then the two wine bottles thrust back into my hands and I was being led back to the lounge.

I had a brief vision of my pyjamas in the hall mirror, which apart from the rampant bull on my chest, looked like baby doll pyjamas, except that rather than panties I had thigh-length skorts, which looked just like a skirt with slits up the sides. Never had a boner come so instantly, as did the excruciating pain that accompanied such reactions.

"For heaven's sake, don’t make so much fuss," Sarah said very crossly. If she hadn’t been pulling me so quickly I might have been able to stop, but in a second I was inside the lounge to the cheers of all the audience.

"Carry on serving the wine," Sarah hissed at me and I did as she requested with the four women I hadn’t already served. As I came to the end of my round, Sarah turned me to face the room.

"Ladies," she said, "may I present Ian, who, as his pyjamas purport, is All Bull, and the proof is here."

She gave a little tug at my skorts, presumably to straighten them a little and the room burst into applause and cheering. I raised an arm in embarrassed acknowledgment, uncertain why they were cheering so heartedly.

"As you can see, Ian is also modelling the final item in our display, the Y-gina chastity device, and I’m certain he’ll be able to give reassurance to you about the wonderful pleasures this brings to a marriage."

"What..." I started to say, then I looked down in horror, realising that the tug I had felt was my skort being pulled off. There, on full display was my Y-gina, my throbbing prick completely hidden by the pretty pussy looking innocence itself.

Chapter 7 – Reconciliation, sort of

"I still can’t believe you set me up like that," I said as Sarah entered the bedroom, to where I had hurriedly retired. I’d heard all the guests leaving within a few minutes of my hurried departure from the lounge, and Sarah had immediately come upstairs.

"I’m so sorry, darling. Please forgive me." Sarah threw back the bedclothes, holding the key to the Y-gina, and immediately released me from jail. Never before had she done so without hours of torment, and that served to show her repentance.

"Oh poor little Percy," she said, going down on him as he rose up to meet her.

As sex goes it was pretty conventional, the kind of thing that heterosexual couples do throughout the world. But it was a complete departure from our world of decades of vanilla sex, followed by twelve days of denial, pain, tormenting, ending with incredible orgasms. And conventional sex was very, very nice.

"It’s just that the girls were so curious about it," she said, returning to my question.

"Well why did you even mention it to them in the first place?" I asked.

"Well the point was that I was concerned about your fetish and I wanted some advice."

"My fetish!" I gasped. "We’re doing this for you."

"Well, darling, can I remind you it was you who asked me if you could wear a chastity device, not the other way round."

"But you were going crazy because you thought I was having an affair with Rachel. I offered to put my chastity in your hands so you could see I was not."

"What I believe actually happened was that you realised your affair couldn’t continue so using the chastity device was a way of ending it. Had you already asked Rachel to lock you up and she’d refused?"

"No," I said.

"Or was I your first choice? Whatever, when you asked me on that Friday night, I knew it was an opportunity to beat off my opposition. I went along with your wishes then, and have done so ever since. So I have you, and Rachel doesn’t.

"But the upshot of that," she continued, "is that I wanted some advice so I spoke to the girls at the class. They all advised me to go ahead with it, but they were all consumed by curiosity. I knew you’d never consent to show them and Emma suggested the lingerie party."

"So the whole thing was a setup at my expense," I said. "What about the pyjamas?"

"Emma had them in her stock. I thought you did look really lovely in them. I had to buy them as you’d flounced off wearing the top but I think I’d have bought them anyway. The skorts have quick release fasteners at the sides, so I only had to give a sharp pull from the rear to pull them out between your legs."

I snorted. "And you all had a good laugh at me."

"Sure, we all had a little giggle," she said. "But I think many thought how lucky I was to know you’re not fooling about with anyone. I guess most of them wished they could get their partners to wear one."

She snuggled up closer to me and Percy gave a tentative wriggle. Was he still allowed to play?

"Mmm," she said. "I can feel something growing between us. Let’s give him another little treat."

Chapter 8 – An embarrassment at work

"Ian," Rachel said next day, as she returned to our office after a visit to the toilet. "One or two of the girls are saying strange things about you."

I tried not to react. It could be anything. "What sort of things?" I asked.

"Well, this is really embarrassing but... They said you wear a chastity belt. It’s not true, is it?"

How to respond? Tell a lie or upset her? "No," I said, "it’s not a belt."

"Oh... But?"

"I need to start at the beginning." I told her of Sarah’s jealousy of Rachel, who she thought I was having an affair with. I told her of the terrible rows we had if my train was just a few minutes late. How the rows started becoming physical, with her throwing things at me, how I’d asked if my wearing a chastity device might help and how she had decided on one that looked like a pussy.

"Oh, Ian, you’re a wonderful man. I’d willingly have had an affair with you if you’d asked."

"But your partner..."

"Mark is always cheating on me. But you never made the first move because you’re a fantastic husband. Most men would have. And now you’re locked in chastity."

"It’s not permanent," I said. "It’s unlocked every night and..." I didn’t like to say that we had tremendous sex. "...and it goes on before I leave for work."

"You poor man. Em..."

"Yes?" I knew what was coming.

"Do you think I could see it?"

"Rachel, I’m not going to drop my trousers in the office and show you my genitals."

"No," she said. "I suppose not." And she left it at that.

***

"Are you coming for lunch?" Rachel asked just after midday. Rachel normally lunched with some of her girlfriends, although occasionally she’d go to the staff restaurant with me.

"Yeah, OK," I said, guessing her curiosity was primed and she thought a casual chat over lunch might get her a sneak viewing. Little did I know!

The staff restaurant is in the basement and we’d just got to the bottom of the stairs when a woman’s voice called out. "Hi Rachel. Were you sneaking off to lunch without us?"

The speaker was a middle-aged large West Indian woman, and when I say large, I’m not talking height or bust; just every other measurement, with the largest being her waist size, although her bum probably weighed more than my whole body! She was accompanied by an almost equally large younger white woman.

"Hi Alesha, hi Ruth," Rachel said. "I just fancied an early lunch and Ian was on his way down so..."

"So this is your workmate, is it?" Alesha said smiling at me.

"Hi," I said. "I’m Ian Brown." I kept silent about Rachel's little lie, realising she’d wanted to get me on my own.

"So you’re the one?" Alesha asked.

I knew exactly what she was referring to but I wasn’t going to let on. I was just about to give some brush off when her hand reached between my legs and grabbed my pussy.

"Yep, you’re the one," she concluded. I gasped in agony as she pulled the Y-gina firmly towards her, with my poor genitals having to follow.

"Come this way, she said, still holding my Y-gina as she led the way through an adjacent door which I realised was the ladies’ toilets.

"I’m not allowed in..." I gasped.

"We’re making an exception for you," Alesha said. "Meet the ladies who are here for the show."

The toilets were jam packed with dozens of women of all ages, all grinning at me and holding phones, ready to take photos. What is this?" I yelled. "You can’t do this to me. I refuse."

"It’s your choice," Alesha said. "You can either show us your little secret, and we all applaud you, or you can walk away and we’ll all say you forced your way in here and dropped your trousers." She smiled at me.

I looked around at them, guessing that most were not vindictive so there’d be no complaint. On the other hand, it took only one complaint and I’d be thrown to the wolves.

"OK," I said. "I’ll show you, but no photographs. Is that agreed?"

There was a lot of muttering but Alesha said, "I guess that’s fair enough. It wouldn’t do for this to go viral on the internet." There was reluctant nodding and everybody put away their phones. Then they all faced me again.

I sighed and dropped my trousers to a collective gasp of astonishment.

"That’s amazing," Martha from Finance said. Martha is one of those older, primly-looking unmarried women whom I’d assumed had always lived virginal lives! She added, much to my astonishment, "I didn’t realise cocks could be squeezed down to something that small."

"Well they can’t when you’re holding them," Janice from Customer Service said. I knew she was approaching retirement. "My problem is making it get any bigger." There was a round of sympathetic laughter.

"Where did you buy it from," Ruth asked, "and how much are they?"

"And do they give discounts for bulk purchases?" Martha quipped. More laughter.

Then other questions started to flood in: why was I wearing it? Did it hurt? How often was I let out? And so on.

After about ten minutes, they started to leave, most of them thanking me and saying what a great husband I was.

Finally, only Rachel was left and she apologised, saying she’d known what Alesha had planned and tried to get me to lunch ahead of her. I told her no hard feelings.

"That’s a fact," she said with a downward grin, leaving me to pull up my trousers. As she left, I heard her say, "Oh, shit!"

It was time, I reckoned, to get out of there. I bent over to pull up my trousers.

"What on earth are you doing in here?" a voice bellowed.

I looked up to see Mrs Cavendish, the Chief Executive, glaring at me.

"My office immediately," she said.

Chapter 9 – Embarrassment turns

"You were in the ladies’ toilets with your trousers around your ankles," Mrs Cavendish said. "That is a major disciplinary offence and I can fire you without notice."

"It’s not what you think, Mrs Cavendish," I protested.

"I’m stating the facts as I observed them," she said. "And you’re hardly in a position to know what I’m thinking."

"No, Mrs Cavendish."

"My reaction to your behaviour will depend upon your response to a request I’m going to make of you."

"Request?"

"Stand up and drop your trousers. I want to see what all the fuss is about."

The relief swept through me. She was letting me off the hook. As I did as she requested, she added, "My God! You wear that all the time?"

"During work hours and evenings," I said.

"I understand you have some cock and ball story, if you’ll excuse the pun, about your justification for wearing it which is at odds with the version which went around at nine o’clock this morning."

"You’re very well informed," I said. "Presumably, one of the attendees at last night’s party works here?"

"Jessica, who works in Marketing, is the sister of one of them. Now tell me why you’re wearing this thing."

So for the third time that day, I went through the chain of events.

"Mmm," she said as I concluded my sorry tale. "It sounds plausible and I’m inclined to believe you. Which is good because whilst I don’t have a problem with what you wear on your dick, I certainly would have a problem with you popping into the ladies loos and dropping your trousers."

"Yes Mrs Cavendish."

"It’s interesting that you’ve been wearing this thing for the last twelve days, and one or two of the females I’ve spoken to about you have all said your attitude has tremendously improved recently. Is that coincidence, I wonder?"

My turn for a pique of curiosity. "You say you’ve been talking about me in particular?"

"Pull up your trousers and sit down and I’ll fill you in." She sniggered. "I guess you’re unlikely to do that to me or anyone else.

"Five years ago," she continued, "we were having difficulties with our ordering system, which was relatively new. Everyone blamed everyone else for the problems, so I decided to create two teams of five people each. They were from different levels in the company, different educational backgrounds, different cultures, and mixed gender. I called them Break Out groups and sent them away for a long weekend to separate villas with the objectives of producing solutions."

"And it worked?" I asked.

"Between the two groups, they came up with a number of suggestions which solved the problem in a few days, but..." She paused with a downward turn of her mouth. "Out of the ten people on that weekend, we had two divorces and one unwanted pregnancy."

I nodded. Some bosses might wash their hands of responsibility but she didn’t.

"I’ve run two more Break Out sessions since, each time with one male team and one female in separate locations. I want to run another weekend shortly and have been casting around for members. Your name was an obvious inclusion except that, with the limited number of males in the company, I don’t have sufficient to make up a male team unless I use people who have taken part in previous groups which I don’t want to do. So I’d come to the conclusion I’d run two female teams this year."

"Except that if you had a guy in chastity, you could create a mixed team," I said.

She smiled at me. "Obviously, it would mean you have to keep it on for the entire weekend rather than just a few hours, but this sounds an excellent way of progressing. So Ian. Are you in or out?"

"I guess I’m in," I said.

Chapter 10 – Preparing to break out

"So you reckon you can stay in the Y-gina from Friday morning until you arrive home on Monday evening," Sarah said to me after I’d told her the plan, having had a good moan at her for making me the centre of gossip and ridicule.

"I guess so," I said.

"Well it’s no good guessing," she said. "You need to trial it beforehand. Tomorrow’s Friday so I’ll lock you up in the morning and release you on Monday evening. Is that agreed?"

I hesitated there. "I suppose so," I said. "But you’d better agree not to taunt and torment me all weekend."

"Darling," she said. "As I understand it, you’re going to be spending the weekend living with four sexy women. Isn’t it wonderful that I have no problems with that? That I know the Y-gina will keep you safe, even though your own spirit may be weak. But if you imagine that these four women are not going to be tormenting you far worse than I do, knowing that you are powerless to do anything about it, you are living in cloud cuckoo land. They are going to have a whale of a time at your expense."

I gulped. "I guess so. Which means I’m either going to have to withdraw or get through this entire weekend with you continually tormenting me."

"Knowing you, you’re not going to withdraw."

"No," I said.

***

When Sarah locked me in the Y-gina next morning, I was as much on tenterhooks as that moment when I had first put it on.

"Bye, bye, Percy," Sarah said to him, then she bent right over and kissed the Y-gina. My flaccid cock was flaccid no more. He was raring to go, but like so often nowadays, his excitement was short lived, as his intended proud stature was crushed beneath my little pussy. Oh, cruel Y-gina, and even crueller Sarah! I pulled up my trousers and left.

***

The news came round mid-morning: two Break Out groups were to run over the following weekend. Their objectives were not yet being released but the group members were listed. The group with my name also included Alesha, Ruth, Martha and Janice. I couldn’t help smirking; Mrs Cavendish had set me up with the four most unsexy women in the company.

The teasing started when I went to the toilet a little later.

"You randy get," said Gareth Peters as we washed our hands at adjacent washbasins. I‘d worked closely with Gareth on a project, so I'd chat with him on these kinds of meetings.

"You and four women locked in a villa for the weekend. It’ll be non-stop sex."

"Gareth," I said, "have you seen who I’m imprisoned with? The four most non-sexy women in the company. In any case..." I stopped myself from saying that my Y-gina meant it didn’t matter anyhow, because Gareth patently didn’t know I was wearing one. Gareth, one of the most popular men with both other men and women didn’t know. How weird was that?

"In any case, what?" He prompted.

"Oh," I said, still thinking. Every woman I’d met since the toilet incident had given me a little smirk, but the merciless teasing I’d expected from the blokes had never happened. Not one man knew about the Y-gina, I realised, stopping myself from punching the air. "In any case, I’m married to Sarah and I don’t play around," I finished.

"Yeah, right," he said, in a nod-nod, wink-wink manner. "I can tell you that when I was on the first Break Out Group, I got the single woman pregnant and one of the married women later got divorced. Poor Harry Chambers was the other man on our group and was coming all innocent, saying that he was married, just like you, until we had the orgy on Saturday night. He got divorced later, as well."

"Which sounds a good reason to keep up my trousers," I said.

"I’ve never been able to," he said. "It’s why I’ve never got married." It was also, I realised, the reason why a bright guy like him had never progressed in the company run by Mrs Cavendish. "I mean, you may think Alesha and Ruth are a bit on the plump side but they all have pussies, and generally when they’re fat and ugly, they are far easier to coax into bed. As for Martha, she may be old but she was the company bike when she was younger. She put me through my paces when I started here straight from school. You could learn a lot from her."

"I’m sure I shall," I said, "but not about sex. Sarah and I love each other and we’re not shagging anyone else."

"Course not," he said with a sneer, clearly writing me off as a total berk. (And anyone who knows the origin of that word will understand the irony.)

***

I managed all right over the weekend with Sarah. I’d read enough stories about chastity devices in the last couple of weeks to realise that it’s not remaining chaste which is the issue. It’s being given hope that it’s coming off and you will have sex, and then you don’t – that’s the killer. I knew there was no hope of getting it off until Monday evening, so it was just a matter of going through the motions with Sarah, playing up to her teasing and tormenting, knowing that little Percy is not going out this weekend. Did that stop Percy from continually getting all excited? Of course not. But it did make things more bearable. So over the course of the weekend, my tongue was almost worn out, I gasped and I groaned in front of Sarah, but I survived.

Except for the morning woody. Three mornings of absolute agony. I’d nip to the toilet and immediately squirt cold water into my pussy which helped slightly, but in those first few waking minutes of the day, the pain was unbearable.

Chapter 11 – Champagne and sex

When I got home on Monday. I fully expected her to make me wait until ten-thirty, tormenting me throughout the evening. Instead, there was an open bottle of Bulinger’s Champagne on the table with a message: "Drink a glass of champagne to savour the moment, and then come into me. Sarah."

Later, much, much later, I said, "That was a wonderful way to greet me home. You should do that every evening."

"I’ve missed your cock," she said. "A vibrator is satisfying, your tongue is ecstatic, but there’s really no substitute for cock."

"So you’re never going to try to turn me into one of those guys permanently locked in chastity that you read on those websites."

"Well," she said, sipping the last of the champagne, "not unless I get a lover."

"Uh, uh," I said. "This is where we initially came in, but the other way round. I’d have to put you into a chastity belt."

"Oh, you meany," she said, nuzzling down my chest and licking my nipple. "Mind," she added, "I’d save a lot of money on batteries for my vibrator."

I’d just been about to say the same thing, except I’d intended it as a joke!

***

At work, over the next few days, I got quite a lot of banter from the blokes, although I’m certain nothing like what it would have been if I’d been put in a Break Out group with some of the many ravers in the company.

But every woman in the company became extraordinarily pally with me. I think they all thought I’d made a big sacrifice by wearing the Y-gina in order to save my marriage. With my cock locked up, they had nothing to fear from me, and quite a few mercilessly flirted with me, especially the middle-aged ones.

So things continued until Friday.

Chapter 12 – Break out

After an early lunch, we all collected our suitcases before gathering in the Reception area to await the arrival of the executive minibuses which would take the two groups to their separate destinations. It had been announced that Mrs Cavendish was going to see us off, which of course discouraged anyone else from doing the same. Rachel had kissed me goodbye in the office, an event which had given me instantaneous pain in a certain area.

"Hello, everybody," Mrs Cavendish said. "None of you currently know the objective of this year’s Break Out groups and I’ll be giving your sealed orders to the drivers to hand to you when you arrive. In the meantime, I want you to prepare yourselves for your weekend. You have an important task ahead of you and I’m depending on you to produce solutions. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun along the way but remember not to let that get out of hand. So, my good wishes go with you Now be on your way."

***

I'm not going to dwell too long over the weekend, but it was pretty good. We all got on famously together and, I had to admit, far better than if I had been a virile man furtively wondering (after Gareth's comments) which of those ladies I could stick my cock into.

Our project was about how to improve communication between the different departments in the company, which the others thought dead boring, but I found incredibly interesting. I ended up doing most of the work with the others throwing in one or two brilliant ideas. By Monday, we not only had some really constructive suggestions for Mrs Cavendish, but we all agreed, we'd had a great weekend together. What was most important was that none of them had tried to torture me by arousal. In spite of my confidence in front of Sarah, I'd secretly been dreading that part of it.

Chapter 13 – A conversation with Gareth

All too quickly, it was Monday lunchtime, and the minibus arrived to take us back to the office. On arrival, we were immediately ushered into Mrs Cavendish's office to give her a briefing, along with the other Break Out group. She was impressed with our efforts and said she'd start implementing some of them straightaway; others, like reorganising her entire company (my idea), she would have to think about.

Then we were told we could go home and see our loved ones, and I was heading to the main exit when I was waylaid by Gareth.

"Ian, have you got a minute?"

"Sorry, Gareth," I said. "I’m on my way home for a reason I’m sure you’ll understand."

He grabbed my arm. "This is important. Really important. Please, Ian."

"OK," I said, "but make it quick."

"We need to go somewhere private," he said, dragging me towards the men’s toilets. How weird was that?

"Gareth," I said, "anyone else and I’d be wondering what you were up to, but surely you haven’t gone gay."

"I might have to," he said, as he checked that none of the cubicles were occupied. "Swear you won’t tell a soul what I’m going to tell you now."

"OK," I said, wondering if he’d contracted VD and wanted advice on what to do about it, as if I would know.

"I had a date arranged with a fairly new girlfriend on Friday evening." He kind of stared hard at me as though I should know what that was like, as if.

"We got on really well together last time. Then just as I was going to lunch on Friday, a post girl brought me a letter marked URGENT addressed to me which had been handed in at the reception downstairs. I opened the envelope and it said, ‘I am gagging for it so much I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve booked a room at The Crown hotel and am waiting for you now.’ There was a keycard enclosed with the room number written on it." He stared at me. "Well, what would you have done? I mean, The Crown is only five minutes' walk."

It was a rhetorical question. "I was down there like a shot," he went on. "When I went in the room, the curtains were drawn and there was an opened bottle of champagne with two glasses, one full, the other, with lipstick on it, was almost empty. She wasn't there but she'd left a note: 'Back in five with a little present for you. Get into bed, have some champagne and await my pleasure.'

"The next thing I knew," he continued, "is that I woke up with a thick head and my mobile phone ringing. I clambered out of bed, found my phone and answered it. It was my girlfriend wanting to know if I was simply late or was standing her up. 'What time is it?' I asked her, really confused. 'It's seven-thirty,' she said, 'and you should have been here half hour ago.' "

Gareth stared at me again. "By now," he said, "I was getting my senses back and I realised someone had slipped me a mickey in the champagne. It was about then that I realized my crown jewels were all cramped up in a really uncomfortable way and I put my hand down to give them a scratch. Jesus Christ." He nodded at me. "From what I've now found out, you have the same thing on your cock. How do you stand it, and please, please, tell me how to get it off."

"Is it exactly the same as mine?" I asked. "I guess you'd better show me."

He gave me a suspicious look but then undid his trousers and dropped them and his underpants, exposing exactly the same pussy as mine.

"It's identical," I said, "and the answer is that you can't get it off. At least, I haven't found a way and I've searched all the websites. You need to find who has the key."

"But how do I do that without knowing who put it on?"

"You could ask the hotel who it was who made the booking," I suggested.

He grunted. "I did," he said, "and apparently I made the booking. Even more annoying is that it was paid for with my credit card."

"You could go down to the hospital," I said.

He grimaced. "The problem is that I've had relations with most of the nurses in A&E and let's say, left some with bad feelings. I reckon if I went down there, they'd either chop my jewels off, accidentally of course, or they'd photograph me and it would be all over social media in five minutes, along with my name, telephone number and email address. Let's face it, anyone would have hysterics if they saw this, unless they were already wearing one themselves."

"Which is why you needed me?"

He shrugged.

"The only thing I've found which works is…" I said. I hesitated, uncertain how he'd take it.

"Yes?" he prompted.

"Think chaste thoughts," I said.

Chapter 14 – The frustration continues

Sarah was in the bedroom wearing her sexiest nightdress when I got home. "Hello, my lover," she said, pressing her soft body against my own, which abruptly wanted to get hard. She gave me a French kiss which went on and on.

Oh, no, I thought. It's going to be an antagonising evening. Then she surprised me.

"Here's the key, darling." She pulled the chain from her neck and passed it to me. "I am so ready for a really good bonking. I want your hard cock thrusting away inside me. Quickly, please, I'm desperate for it."

Usually, Sarah wouldn't let me handle the key, I think in case I managed to make it disappear by magic or something. Anyway, it meant I had no idea how hard I needed to turn it in the lock. It was really stiff, unlike a certain part of my anatomy which wanted to be. I turned it harder.

"For God's sake, undo the bloody lock," Sarah snapped. "I'm dying for it."

I twisted it harder and the key broke in the lock.

I stared at it aghast.

"Oh my God! What have you done?" Sarah yelled. "I was really looking forward to that," she continued. "You did it deliberately, didn't you, just to frustrate me."

"Of course I didn't, I…"

Sarah grabbed me by the hair and flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling my head with her. She grasped the hem of her nightdress and pulled it up to her chin. "Get your tongue working," she ordered.

I groaned, for once unprepared for the unbelievable frustration I was feeling. I felt like crying.

"For God’s sake, get on with it," she said.

Chapter 15 – And gets worse

Some time after I'd brought her to a crashing orgasm, I raised the question. "Where do you keep the spare key?"

"The spare?" She looked at me as though I was speaking in a foreign language.

"There were two keys that came with the Y-gina. You've kept one on the chain around your neck. You were going to put the spare somewhere safe." I didn't say that I'd spent ages searching the house when she went out, and so far hadn't found it.

"Oh yeah. I put it somewhere you wouldn't think of looking."

"Well, where?"

"Erm… Oh yes, I remember now. You know that old suitcase you keep in the loft. The one you had before you bought that nice one you took away with you."

I stared at her, a sickening feeling sinking in my stomach. "Yes?"

"Well I stuffed it into that hole inside where the lining is torn."

"But when I was packing for my weekend, I got out that old suitcase and said that since I no longer used it, I was going to throw it away."

"Oh, did you?"

"You know I did."

"I mean, did you throw it out?"

"I left it out for the dustmen."

"Oh, well. It sounds like you threw out the baby along with the bathwater."

"But why didn't you stop me, or at least recover the key after I'd taken it outside."

"To be honest, I'd forgotten all about putting the spare there. Still, never mind. You gave me a very nice orgasm, just now."

"I gave you an orgasm," I shouted. "But what about me?"

"I'll telephone the supplier tomorrow and order another key. The number is written on the key. It should be simple. They can post one and it should be with us in a few days."

"Oh, God!" I said.

Chapter 16 – And gets worse

As soon as I got into work next day, Rachel greeted me.

"Have you heard the news about Gareth?" she asked.

"News?" I replied, remembering I'd given him my word to keep shtum.

"Apparently, one of the women whom Gareth has really shitted up, tricked him into going to a room in The Crown on Friday lunchtime, where he drank a glass of doctored champagne. Whilst he was unconscious, she put a Y-gina on his dick, just the same as yours. And she's not going to hand over the key."

"That reminds me I need to ring Sarah," I said, picking up my phone.

Rachel and I have this arrangement that when one is on the phone to their partner, the other generally leaves the room. So she left as I listened to the phone ringing in Sarah's office. After ages, she deigned to answer it.

"Have you ordered it?" I asked.

"Ordered what?" Sarah replied.

"The bloody key," I said.

"Calm down," she said, "or I won't order the thing for another week. I'll do it now so stop nagging me."

Of course, I rang again later on, whilst Rachel was away from her desk. "Have you ordered it?"

"Oh, well, I tried, but it looks like the store has closed down. Their website has disappeared and their phone just gives that tone sound."

"Tell me you're joking, Sarah," I begged.

"It's OK," she said. "It's a good job one of us has the initiative. I found the manufacturer in China. I've emailed them and asked to sell us a spare key. They haven't replied yet, but I think I should warn you that their delivery time is forty days, door to door. Now stop whinging and let me get on with my work." She disconnected the call.

"Forty days!" I moaned to myself. And that was only after they'd accepted the order.

"Sorry?" Rachel said, having come into the office whilst I was on the phone call.

"Oh, nothing," I said.

She looked at me. "It's clearly not nothing," she said. "Do you want to tell me all about it?"

So I told her how I'd been on best behaviour all weekend but the key had broken in the lock of my Y-gina the previous evening, and the spare had got thrown away and…

"You've never asked me," she said, "if I can pick a lock."

"You?" I said, staring at her in astonishment. "Can you pick a lock?"

"I had a good look at it that time when you demonstrated it in the Ladies' toilets," Rachel said. "I reckon I could unlock that in about thirty seconds."

"Thirty seconds," I said. "But why haven't you said before?"

"Because this has been between you and Sarah. Let's face it, if Sarah knew I could pick the lock, it would undo all the good relationship building you've been doing for the last few weeks."

"Oh." I stared at my potential saviour.

"Do you want me to do it?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course I do."

Rachel looked around the office. "Well clearly we can't do it here. We'd both get the sack if Mrs Cavendish came in and you had your trousers round your knees and I had my hands on your groin. We’d better go round to my flat at lunchtime."

Did I mention that Rachel’s flat was only a few minutes away from the office? "Right," I said.

Chapter 17 – Another type of break out

"Won't Carl have problems with us being alone together in here?" I asked Rachel as we entered her quiet flat that lunchtime.

"I split up with Carl yesterday."

"Oh, Rachel," I said. "I’m sorry. You should have told me."

"I was going to this morning but you had to call Sarah, and I never got the right moment until now. Carl was always playing around with someone or other. Our relationship had no future. It’s the best in the end. Now let’s get this lock open, although I’ve been having a little think about the consequences."

"Consequences?"

"You’ve been locked in that thing since Friday, right? I reckon I should take precautions that things don’t get out of hand when you’re released."

"You can trust me, Rachel."

"But can you trust yourself?"

I looked at her as she stood before me, the first time I’d properly looked at her since I’d donned the Y-gina. She had on one of her low cut tops and her wonderful cleavage emphasised her large breasts thrusting out towards me. I could discern the outline of her nipples through her thin bra. Her short skirt flared over the curve of her hips and spoke of the wonders between them. Her eyes twinkled, her face shone bright and her lips pouted.

"No," I admitted. "You are absolutely gorgeous and I can see why you’ve every reason to be wary of me. Does that mean you don’t want to release me?" Oh shit! I thought. Why did I suggest that?

"It’s all right," she said. "I have an idea. Come into the bedroom. Carl and I enjoyed a little bondage sometimes and the straps are still on the bed."

She led the way into the bedroom and said, "Lie on the bed. I’ll fasten the straps around your wrists and my honour will be safe."

She grinned at me, and I tried to conceal the pain as my cock tried to burst free of its confines at the very idea of being tied up by her. I lay on the bed and she took my wrist and lifted a strap tied to the headboard. She wrapped it around my wrist and secured it with a Velcro fastening. Then, she walked around the bed and secured my other wrist.

She smiled at me. "Try getting out of that."

My arms were spread-eagled. I wriggled a bit and said, "I can't."

"That's good," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Then she held an envelope up before my eyes. "Do you recognise this handwriting?" she asked.

What on earth had this to do with her picking the lock of my Y-gina? I squinted at the words on the envelope, ’Property of Sarah Brown’.

"It's Sarah's handwriting," I said. "Where did you get that?"

"Shall we see what's inside it?" she asked. I nodded, rather dumbfound. What on earth was going on?

Rachel ripped open the envelope and let two keys fall into her hand. "Any idea what these two keys are for?"

"They look like the keys of my chastity belt. How did you get them?"

"You know that every woman in the office has taken a real shine to you; they all empathise with you?"

"I suppose so," I said.

"You know that Jessica, who works in Marketing, is the sister of Sarah's friend, Emma?"

"Yes. But…"

"Jessica came to see me yesterday morning."

"Oh, that's nice. But…"

"She'd been to see Emma over the weekend, and when Emma told her what Sarah was planning, she became really concerned for you."

"What?" That stopped me in my tracks. "What did she mean? What Sarah's planning?"

"Sarah said that she was going to keep you in chastity for months."

"That's crazy," I said. "Why would she do that?"

"She hinted that you wanted it."

"That's stupid," I said. Then I remembered our pillow talk last Monday. Surely Sarah couldn't have misinterpreted that? "I know that Sarah gets a thrill out of teasing me," I said, "but she enjoys the sex as well."

"But it lines up exactly with what you told me this morning. According to Emma, Sarah had bought another key which looked identical to yours, but which had a different key number. She'd substituted that for the key on her chain and she expected the new key would break in the lock when you tried to unlock it on Monday evening."

I think my mouth dropped open at that.

"Sarah left the original keys with Emma in this envelope for safekeeping," she continued. "So as soon as Emma went to the kitchen to make some tea, Jessica rummaged through the drawer where she knows Emma keeps all her junk and found it."

"No," I said, not wanting to believe the unacceptable.

"So, shall we put my unlocking skills to the test?"

I slowly nodded.

She climbed astride my knees in order to undo the belt on my trousers, fully exposing that wonderful cleavage. Suddenly my cock wanted to go rock hard again. Then she was undoing my trouser fastenings and unzipping me. I groaned aloud.

Rachel smiled at me. "All right?" she asked.

I nodded, and lifted my hips as she slid my trousers and underpants down my legs. Then she was fumbling with the key in the lock and I heard the familiar click as it released. She eased the Y-gina off my cock and I could feel it tentatively expanding, wondering what was going to happen next.

But what happened next took me as much by surprise as my cock.

"Poor little cock," Rachel said, and she stuck out her tongue and gave it a lick.

Wham, it expanded like a car airbag and suddenly it was little no more.

"I think he needs a little TLC, don't you," she said. She lifted her skirt to reveal she wasn’t wearing panties and moved forward to squat astride me.

"Mmm," she said as she slid down my cock. "That feels very nice."

With my arms tied as they were, I was powerless to stop her, even if I'd had the willpower to want to do so. And she was absolutely right; it did feel very nice, very nice indeed.

Chapter 18 – From one mistress to another

"I don’t think we’d better let Sarah know that I have the key," Rachel said, some time later, a huge smirk on her face.

"It’s going to be rather obvious as soon as I get an erection," I pointed out, a very similar smirk on my own face.

"Well, there’s an easy way to prevent that," she said. She picked up the Y-gina and waved it at me.

"Rachel," I said aghast, "you can’t put that back on me."

"Wanna bet," she said, slipping it in place and pressing it together until it clicked.

"But what will I do with the key?"

"You don’t get the key. This is my key now and when you need releasing from it, you come to me.

"In the meantime, you need to keep pleading with Sarah to get you a new key and release you. Let’s see how long she wants to keep you in chastity and remember that whilst she is going without sex with her lovely husband, I’m bonking his brains out."

"I do feel a bit guilty about this," I said.

"Don’t," Rachel said. "Remember, this is only going on because she is torturing you."

I nodded. "I guess so." Looking at it that way certainly salved my conscience.

EPILOGUE – RACHEL’S STORY

I lusted for Ian from the moment I first met him, when Mrs Cavendish introduced him as my new work partner. Within days I was in love with him. I’d have had an affair with him like a shot if ever he’d given the slightest indication that he was other than totally in love with, and loyal to, that bitch of a wife.

Of course, as soon as Sarah saw me at the company function, she read me like a book. She instantly realised I was head over heels in love with him, and paradoxically, it was her reading me – and getting jealous about me – which ultimately led to her downfall.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, because there was another important aspect of which Ian was totally unaware, and which I may never tell him about.

So there I was thinking what a horrible wife Sarah must be to keep him in the Y-gina like that, when Ian came into the office one morning saying how Sarah had welcomed him home with a glass of champagne. How nice, I thought, to do that, Then he mentioned it was Bullinger’s Champagne and that whilst it was a nice idea, it tasted rubbish.

I prided myself that, rather than revealing the truth, I simply said it was the thought which counted and never mind the taste.

You see Bullinger’s Champagne is a rip off. It’s not legally allowed to be called Champagne because it’s from Serbia rather than a certain part of France, and Bollinger’s has made a complaint that it’s a copycat, so it’s banned throughout the EU. Even if you wanted to buy the stuff, you'd need to know someone who had smuggled it in.

Now the only person I know you can get it from is Gareth Peters. He drove back through Serbia last summer and picked up about twenty cases of the stuff. Even though it's total rubbish, he always uses it to impress a woman he’s hoping to seduce.

So how, I asked myself, did Sarah happen to have an open bottle of Bullinger’s when Ian gets home from work? I found out that Gareth had supposedly been 'working from home' that day, which inevitably meant he was shagging some woman.

So there’s poor Ian in chastity whilst his wife is cuckolding him with that slimy git Gareth Peters. I think if I’d told Ian that, it would have destroyed him so I kept quiet. Instead, I decided to take revenge on behalf of Ian, without Ian even knowing that revenge had been exacted.

It wasn’t difficult to find out that Gareth was meeting up with Sarah on Friday evening, so I arranged the little interception on Friday lunchtime. I reckoned I was doing a favour to humanity by locking him up in that Y-gina and then throwing away the key. And since I’d always managed to avoid any kind of relationship with Gareth, he never thought to accuse me of the dastardly deed.

Then when Jessica told me on Monday how Sarah was going to lock Ian in chastity forever, it seemed an opportunity too good to miss. I gave Carl his marching orders, telling him I was fed up with his infidelity and that I'd met someone new. Maybe you think that a little premature, but when you have the key to a man's balls, his heart and mind will inevitably follow.

And talking about missing, Ian and I have been having our affair for three months now and I’ve missed my period. I told Ian and he’s really excited. He’s going to leave Sarah and move in with me. And in case you’re thinking that’s what married men having affairs always say, just remember that I still have the key to the crown jewels.