Caged Men In The Job: CFNM

Caged Men In The Job: CFNM

HR mandates hard dress code: male chastity device on sight

Tags. Mandatory chastity cages, CFNM, no gay, soft BDSM, gentle femdom, no cuckolding, eating pussy, facesitting, cunnilingus. No gay.

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### Category: Fetish. Some penises (perhaps many) will be locked inside padlocked chastity devices, while women will have no such obligations. If this fetish does not intrigue you, avoid reading.

A contribution to the Event On The Job 2024. Please vote if you liked it, and add a positive comment if you want.

English is not my language, please forgive my mistakes.###

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Chapter 1: Beginning With An Ending (A Happy Ending, of course).

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It was late at night. I was masturbating in front of the PC.

Although I was aware that it was late, and that tomorrow morning I would have to wake up early to go to the office, nevertheless I was masturbating furiously, reading an erotic story on a site.

My wife had come home late from work, had gone to bed because she was too tired even to eat dinner, and I was alone in front of the PC.

The narrative described a couple very similar to the two of us: 50 years old, two adult sons already working. Two empty nesters. Coincidentally, his name was Richard like mine. He, too, was a respected man at work, considered by all to be a true Alpha. But in the bedroom secret, that character in the story craved being subdued by his wife in the bedroom.

In previous episodes (which I had already read), she had tied him to the bed, whipped him, and forced him to serve tea to the girls, dressed as a shy French Maid gagged and wearing a skirt too short to hide his caged penis. Each of those adventures had turned me on and I had cum without hesitation.

That night the chapter did not convince me. She was cheating on him (for her very first time) with a certain Bull, and the husband stood there watching, bound and gagged. I tried to get aroused by focusing on the details, but the chapter on Cuckolding failed to engage me. I could guess that a lot of people have been enjoying it for centuries (since the time of King Candaules, Seventh Century B.C.) but I could not rejoice in it. I kept thinking that I did not want to cheat on anyone, nor did I want my wife to cheat on me. Besides, what to do with STDs and illnesses? What if then this Bull was a stupidly selfish man?

Before closing the chapter, I saw that on the right side, the site offered vaguely similar stories. I longed to cum, and to find something exciting, I clicked on a random title, without much hope.

I opened one at random. It told of a husband asking his wife to be his Keyholder: he had purchased a few device models online, and eventually found the one that fit perfectly, preventing him from any erection (and making him horny).

His wife was reluctant at first, then had accepted baby steps to lock the lock that blocked her husband's manhood, and then... each paragraph a step forward, with great orgasms for her, and a great buildup of arousal for him without ever an outlet.

Lots of endorphin, lots of serotonin, lots of happiness, but never prolactin, never that sad depression that comes to the male after he has had the "Petite Morte" of him.

I had never read anything like it and read the whole series without even bothering to masturbate anymore (except as an unconscious movement). After nine long and intriguing episodes in the series, I had a dick as hard as a marble. In the story, the wife still demanded an orgasm from her husband's mouth, then turned around and fell asleep murmuring "Never Reciprocate"... in an instant I was struck as if by lightning, and I was cumming ropes and ropes of semen, flooding the floor beneath me.

My wife was asleep, snoring softly with an almost inaudible noise.

Damn! Just tonight, and tomorrow will be Friday, I have to go to the office!

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The next morning, in the office, each of us found among the e-mails a long Memorandum from the Human Resources Office.

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Chapter 2: The E-MAIL: Bad News from Human Resources.

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Not everyone knows that a dedicated HR office never existed before women also started working in offices. It sounds absurd but that is exactly what it is. Bureaucratic offices in the Western world (Europe and America and their colonies) have always been shaped by imitating the structures of the army: and in the army, there is no HR office.

One thinks of the army of Frederick the Great of Prussia, or the Napoleonic army. What Grognard could have complained about the sergeant and captain with a nonexistent "HR Office"? Impossible.

Similarly, if an Army (or Navy) officer misbehaved with his subordinates, sooner or later a stray bullet or shrapnel would hit him in the middle of the back: there is even a word for it, "fragging," which is very common, especially when officers give senseless or morally repugnant orders.

Unfortunately, "History is not a Dinner Party", wrote Aristotle ("Poetics", Book Two).

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As always, the Corporate Memorandum began with an infuriating paragraph in which the HR director, Bjork Jensdottir, reiterated what her role should be: for the umpteenth time.

Bjork Jensdottir. Just under 40, eyes like the sky, hair like wheat.

Cold as a perennial glacier, impetuous as a geyser.

Always as ruthless as an earthquake.

Empathetic as a stone.

And it was customary for her to sign her letters with her initials, BJ, regardless of the smirks that appeared on many men's (and even some women's) faces.

Probably in the Icelandic office, those two paired letters meant nothing special.

But the content of the Memorandum was instead completely surprising.

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>>>>"Memorandum number 1776 (HR/bj)

Signed Thursday, April 4th, 2024.

Reception date: Friday, April 5th, 2024.

Regulations are in effect beginning the following Monday from 9 am.

As you know, several scandals related to sexual harassment in the workplace have agitated newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. Harassment will never again be tolerated in this Company, and therefore it is ordered that All Males At All Levels Wear A Precise Uniform, as detailed below.

The HR Manager is responsible for implementing new dress code rules for all male workers in the company. This includes developing, communicating, and enforcing policies that align with the company's values and professional standards. The HR Manager will work closely with senior management to ensure that the new dress code rules are clear, fair, and compliant with legal requirements.

Company policy, in deference to Iceland's free democratic traditions dating back to the earliest assemblies of the Vikings, dictates that we must rule out blaming the way female workers dress. Therefore, the only acceptable approach is to intervene in the way male workers dress.

It is incumbent upon the writer Dr. Bjork Jensdottir (hereafter abbreviated: "bj") to fulfill the following points, leaving nothing undone or on the verge of fully coming.

>>>1. Research industry best practices and trends related to dress codes (already completed. We will apply the same rules that are already adopted in the Reykjavik office, as arranged by the Founding President's daughter).

>>>2. Develop a comprehensive dress code policy for all male workers in the company. Each man will wear a chastity device that will prevent erections. By next Monday each must provide exact measurements of his flaccid penis. Any unnecessary exaggeration will be punished as perjury. The company will purchase the devices (henceforth: "cages") from an artisanal supplier who custom fabricates the metal. Each worker will have a custom cage and a strap around his or her waist to prevent the device from being taken off.

Human Resources will keep each key, although, to avoid assemblies at both entry and exit times, it would be appropriate that each man would wear the cage all day and all week: 24/7. Only upon written and substantiated request, from the wife and/or official partner, may this HR consider agreeing to any release (of a maximum duration of one night, with a requirement to close the next morning).

>>>3. Communicate the new dress code rules effectively to employees.

>>>4. Provide guidance and support to employees who have questions or concerns about the new policy. I don't think anyone will want to object. I gladly remind everyone that the Company retains the right to transfer personnel to our station in Antarctica.

>>>5. Monitor compliance with the dress code rules and address any violations promptly. On this issue, see the footnote at the end.6. Collaborate with department heads to ensure consistency in enforcing the dress code across all teams.

>>>7. Review and update the dress code policy as needed to reflect changes in workplace culture or regulations.

To bring to fruition especially item 5 (monitoring), this Memorandum arranges for an internal call, reserved for a female worker, to assist in the writing of BJ in the morning and evening checks.

Requirements

>1. Bachelor's degree in Human Resources, or some related field.

>2. Proven experience in developing and implementing HR policies, preferably related to dress codes.

>3. Strong knowledge of employment laws and regulations.

>4. Excellent communication and deep interpersonal skills.

>5. Ability to work collaboratively with employees at all levels of the organization. I would like to remind you that these dress rules also apply to the company's senior management and executive ranks. So my next Assistant may have a much lower rank (and a much younger age) than the colleagues she will be screening and assessing. Please: Be Prepared! bj.

>6. Attention to detail and a commitment to upholding professional standards in the workplace.

>>>>>The HR Manager plays a crucial role in shaping the company's culture through effective management of policies such as the dress code rules for male workers. This position requires a strategic mindset, strong communication skills, and a dedication to promoting a positive work environment for all employees.

>>>>>Taking this opportunity to wish those of you who are married a peaceful confrontation session with your spouse, I extend my warmest regards to you. HR/bj."

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We looked at each other in amazement. I was the head of an office of six people: two men and four women. They all looked at me.

"What do you think, Richard? You are the boss... the Man. Should we rebel?" asked Andrew, with a note of despair.

I looked at him without speaking. Then I looked at my co-workers. Aiysha, Barbara, Teresa, and Skye.

It was a very diverse group.

Aiysha was a promising lawyer, married to Ahmed, a decent block who earned less than her because he had not been able to study at the university. She and I used to joke about it all the time. Both were dark-skinned and came from an Islamic nation in Central Africa. As a joke, she would say that she was as dark as Cocoa, and Ahmed was as dark as Coffee.

Barbara looked like a Barbie doll. Blonde with blue eyes. But surgeons had removed one of her breasts after a bad accident, and she had refused every implant proposal, because, she said, "I don't want to lie, I don't want to deceive, I am who I am and people have to accept my body as it is." Barbara did not wear makeup on her face or dye her hair. Barbara was a lesbian, and she was Teresa's wife.

Teresa came from a multiethnic Hispanic family and had relatives in every single former colony of the Spanish Empire (including Brazil even though it was not part of it). Shorter than Barbara, but much stronger, with broad shoulders, trained biceps, and short hair. Teresa was the classic "tomboy" and often Andrew and I would ask her to help us lift the heavier objects, she would always laugh and say "There is no such thing as something men did that a woman can't do better," in Spanish, and then she would each time stuck her tongue to mock our weak, untrained male muscles. When she had just arrived in my office (and still not engaged to Barbara), I used to joke with her that we were both Catholics. Then one day she got incensed, talking about something bad that a parish priest had done to an 18-year-old boy, and from then on we never touched the subject again. Teresa was a rare case of a "believing and practicing Catholic lesbian," strong but gentle, aggressive but spiritual, muscular but theological. To get married, Barbara and Teresa had gone before the justice of the peace: the blonde's family was Lutheran of Danish descent, I believe.

Skye was pale, redheaded, and very thin, as women in Scotland sometimes are. Taller than me. Presbyterian, she did not have much patience with Catholics. Sometimes Skye had short relationships with boyfriends who, however, were never feminist enough to last together with her for more than a few months.

In my office, each girl was more blatantly rich, stronger, or taller than me. However, everyone respected me because I was an experienced and empathetic leader. Before this Memorandum.

Aiysha shook her head in disbelief, "Oh, my boss, the Poor Richard... such a decent person..."

Skye looked at me with some disdain. As a true Scottish woman, she was a true feminist and hated all men, however, she had always worked well with us, with mutual respect. Now instead she looked at me with contempt. Side effects of the METOO.

Barbara intervened, as always. She was the real leader of the group, even though she was the youngest: and she liked to lead from the bottom, using sarcasm and humor. "Skye! Stop staring at our boss as if he were a sex maniac! Mr. Richard is the most proper person in the world and, in my opinion, he is not trivially a male, he is a PERSON: a good person."

Skye grimaced, "To you, he is not a male, because you are a lesbian."

Very close to the two interlocutors, the tough Teresa (Hispanic caliente) clenched her fist so hard that her knuckles turned pale, but Barbara held her back.

Barbara had provoked Skye by luring her into a verbal trap, and she smiled in satisfaction. "I am a lesbian, but I have a woman's body. And I know full well how much the male gaze weighs, even now that the surgeons have removed one of my breasts. I know that other males look at my ass and look at my slender little feet when I walk in heels-I know. And I know that dozens of thousands of bosses harass girls in the office. But that is not the case with Mr. Richard. Besides, I know his wife, and I am worried about the fallout this Memorandum will have on her life!"

I thought, "OMG! My Wife! Who's going to explain... THIS!... to my Wife!" and I reread the Memorandum all over again.

Sure, sure: Human Resources, to reduce the time of the morning inspection, was not content with me wearing a cage against erections during office hours, but went so far as to suggest prolonging that torture even at home, 24/7! This was a serious infringement on workers' rights.

The girls had also concentrated on reading. While I was thinking, Aiysha muttered, "However, if he protests they will exile him to Antarctica..."

Yikes. Sure, I could have filed a union lawsuit, but these things go on for a long time, and in the meantime, I would have been transferred to Antarctica. What could I have done?

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It was Friday night.

I came home with the Memorandum printed on some sheets of paper.

I did not dare to email it to my wife.

Cathy greeted me with a hug. Immediately my cock got hard: she smiled and said, "I see you still love me, honey, after so many years of marriage!"

I sighed. "This may be the last week you see him this erect, sweetheart."

"What? What happened? Tell me everything!"

I handed her the papers as I went to take a shower. I was devastated, morally and psychologically. Unjustly accused of being a sex offender, like every man on the Planet: and condemned, though innocent, to be chained forever. Not only in the office but also at home!

In the shower, I cried in despair. Feminism and Metoo have done many things wrong, but the worst injustice is to have equated the innocent with maniacs. Now we all appear guilty, even those who, like me, are innocent.

How long was I in the shower? I don't know. I was heartbroken, I was desperate, and I didn't want to get out.

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With my hair still wet, I returned to the living room drying myself with a large bathrobe.

My wife was frantically consulting her PC.

She had her thighs open and was not wearing panties. She always had the mons smooth: she had had laser hair removal many years ago, saying that when I was traveling for work, she wanted to masturbate with the magic wand while she was phoning me, and without hair, the sensitivity increased a lot.

It was better for me because I loved the look of her pussy all naked, and when I licked it, it was much more pleasurable for me.

As soon as Cathy saw me, she grabbed my cock and sawing it vigorously said, "Screw me!"

I was still sad but the prospect of a quickie brightened my evening.

My wife and I have two ways of making love. One is the quickie: it happens when she has a sudden urge because she has read something erotic or who knows. The other is a long, slow coupling, which allows her to reach her orgasm quietly.

Everything is based on her confidence in my endurance: she knows that I will never cum if she has not had a full orgasm first.

But that night her body language was screaming at me, "A Quickie!" and I indulged her.

Being sad, the penis needed some encouragement before getting hard.

She masturbated in front of me, with the magic wand on the outside of her pussy.

I penetrated her, without any foreplay (but her pussy was flushed and ready!), holding the magic wand between my belly and her mind.

Cathy orgasmed almost immediately.

Immediately afterward, I also cummed a large amount inside her pussy.

Only then did she turn off the vibration of the wand.

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I almost passed out from pleasure. My wife smiled slyly at me like the Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

"You know, Richard, now that our sons have moved out on their own, the two of us are empty nesters... and I've been wanting for a long time to try to ask you something I've NEVER told you before... what do you say? First, though, would you like to make your faithful little wife who made you cum have an orgasm?"

I did not know what she wanted to ask me but without hesitation toward her pussy filled with my marital cum.

It was a little perversion she had from a young age: Cathy liked me to swallow my semen wherever it fell. If I cum on her tits, she demanded that I lick them. If I cum between her toes, she would offer them to me until I had cleaned them all. And if I cum in her pussy, then she confided that I would swallow all I could reach.

It is not an effective contraceptive system (in fact, two children were born to us) but it is very satisfying for her, and frankly, I like it. I have never licked another man's semen, but my semen is mine, as mine is my saliva that I have in my mouth all day long.

I squatted between my wife's warm thighs and began to lick and suck her labia and clitoris. She moaned and squirmed. I licked and sucked and seemed to have forgotten everything that had happened in the office. I moistened my middle finger with saliva and then buried it deep inside her anus, without force, but with quiet, steady pressure. Her clitoris protruded protruded toward me and she yowled and yelped like a bitch in heat. I don't know how much time passed in this way. She grabbed my hair with her fingers and pushed deeper and deeper into me as she screamed. Then she let out one last loud cry and then passed out.

Several minutes later she awoke from the post-orgasmic bliss.

"Oh, Richard, my love... that was the best orgasm of my life."

"I saw. And I heard. Let's hope the neighbors didn't call the police."