David and Becky - Foolish Choices Ch. 11

This story is entirely fictional and is intended as a fantasy in the world of female domination and male submission. It involves tease and denial with the use of a male chastity device, cuckoldry and corporal punishment. No part of this story is written to suggest such lifestyles were realistic or believable. The characters, named and unnamed, are not based on any living or deceased persons. All locations, whether named or otherwise, in this story, including the nation of Siskovia Province, are also fictitious and any similarities to any that exist anywhere, are coincidental. If you are not interested in fiction in which males, whether willingly or forced, submit to dominant females, or find such subjects objectionable and in opposition to your own preferences, I would strongly suggest you exercise your right not to read any further.

Chapter 11

Day 345 -- Sunday 10th July 2016

I was awakened by the usual three bangs on the door of my cell and the lights going on. I was still exhausted from yesterday's hard labour exercise in the yard, and for some unknown reason I had been made to carry four hundred bricks. That was the usual for a special punishment day, all I could come up with was, because I had only three weeks to go, they were ensuring I felt punished right up to the end of my sentence. They had only informed me it was to be a full day when they brought breakfast in the morning so I wasn't psyched up for it. And with my mind focussed on counting down the days to going home, I found it difficult to get into my stride, culminating in me finishing at after one 'o' clock in the morning. That earned me a strapping from Madam Justyna as soon as I returned to my cell.

Gabriela, the head guard, brought my breakfast, just the usual; two pieces of toast with a smear of butter and a cup of tea, but not a problem because soon I'd be enjoying something much more appetising. In just a few short weeks, I would be having a proper breakfast, perfectly cooked; sausage, bacon, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, hash browns, toast, orange juice and coffee. If the weather was nice, I'd have it outside on the veranda overlooking the bay. I just had to be patient and await the day they would come in and release me for the final time from my cell.

It had now been about three weeks since Justyna and Kateryna had come into my cell and teased me while I wore the cock cage. I had been teased by them to such a state of agony that I had come inside the restriction giving me no pleasure whatsoever. In the time that followed, I had still suffered the frustration of no orgasm and no further release of my sperm in involuntary ejaculations. Despite my anger and frustration with Becky, I still thought of her getting hold of my penis in her hand or mouth or sliding it softly inside her smooth wet pussy. Each time the thought of how close I was to finally enjoying that moment was constantly causing erections. I knew it would continue until I was home with Becky where I would accept nothing less than the reward I was long overdue. What happened after that, would depend on how strong I was prepared to be.

Later that morning, I got unexpected visitors when Gabriela and Izabela came to my cell. "Stand up, prisoner," Gabriela ordered.

I jumped to attention, this felt different.

"Madam Popescu wants to see you," she said, approaching me. "Put your hands behind your back."

With my hands secured behind my back, I was marched roughly out of my cell. Up the steps and into the yard, the uncovered part was bathed in hot sunshine. It was incredible to think I had been here for so close to a whole year, arriving on a day just like this, not expecting to stay as long as I had. I glanced up at the hook protruding from the building wall with the chain hanging. That was where, on a freezing winter night, I had been strung up, naked, and made to suffer for six agonisingly cold minutes while the guards, all dressed in warm furs stood around enjoying my agony.

The pile of bricks lay stacked where I'd left them the previous night after my long day of carrying them up and down the yard. I wondered how many times I'd moved that stack over the year I'd been here. I still had a few more days of doing that before I left here!

Out of the yard and into the main arrival area, I saw a few cars parked as well as one of the prison vans. A little surge of panic pulsed through me as the thoughts of freedom on the other side of those gates suddenly felt so near and yet so far. Why did Madam Popescu want to see me in her office? What if she had some bad news for me? What if I wasn't going home in three weeks? Up the steps, and we were inside the main building and walking along the corridors to reach her office.

"Wait here," Gabriela ordered, while she knocked on the door.

"Enter," Madam Popescu called.

I was shoved inside the room, and with a quick glance around, my eyes fell upon Becky, seated next to the wall on my left. She was wearing a short, white skirt, her tanned bare legs were crossed with her hands resting one on top of the other on her knee. She wore a shirt, tied in a knot in front of her, revealing her bare midriff and cleavage. Her hair was tied back off her face with loose strands dangling sexily onto her cheeks. Why was she here? What the fuck was going on? When she smiled at me, I didn't know whether it was a gloating smile or an expression of pleasure in seeing me. I responded with a blank look which expressed my contempt for what I assumed would be something bad she was about to do to me.

Next to her sat Justyna, staring at me; I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but she too had her legs crossed. She was wearing leggings and a short denim jacket. Tilly was standing next to Madam Popescu's desk in guard uniform while the middle aged court official who did all the paperwork sat with her back to me at a desk to my right. She seemed quite indifferent to my arrival, preferring to hit the keys of her laptop.

A chain was attached to my ankle which secured me to the floor bolt a few feet in front of Madam Popescu's large desk. She looked up at me, her face stern and showing no emotion.

"Mr Emerson, I expect you are wondering why you are in my office with your wife in attendance."

I said nothing, but inside my head, there was plenty going on.

"You may speak openly, Mr Emerson," she added.

"Why am I here, Madam Popescu, and why is Becky here?" I asked. I was totally confused.

"Usually, I never offer early release to any of my prisoners, but in your case..." she paused.

"When? Today?" A mix of joy and disbelief rose within me. I looked at Becky who was smiling at me.

"Would you like to be on this evening's flight to London?"

"Yes, Madam Popescu?" I said, my words almost tripping over each other in excitement.

"I have papers already completed and signed which authorise your unconditional and immediate release."

This was real! It was actually happening.

"Well, Mr Emerson," Madam Popescu addressed me once again, "you have spent a little more time here in a prison cell than you expected. Do you think you'll miss it?"

I was so overwhelmed with joy, I could barely take in what Madam Popescu had asked me. I tried to pull myself together, I had to get this right and make no mistakes. Was there a twinge of sadness about leaving? "On some level, I think I will, Madam Popescu."

"Oh?" She sat back inviting me to expand.

"Although the feel of the strap was unbearably painful, I think I began to enjoy receiving it in the end." My brain had lost control of what my mouth was saying.

"You enjoyed the pain it gave you?"

"Well ... I hated the pain, but somehow ... usually after several strokes, the pain gave me such a thrill, a real buzz, it was exhilarating." I was rambling out of control.

"And what about the cane, surely you won't miss that?"

"Receiving a caning was a ferocious experience, and thankfully I only received it twice. I don't know what I felt during the last few strokes of my second caning, but it seemed like I was in another world, and despite the pain, I think I was sorry when you stopped."

"That is not unusual. I think it is a method the brain adopts to cope with the pain. It fools you into thinking the extreme pain is actually pleasure; it shows what a good job I did."

"But I don't think it makes me want to have another." I was slowly getting control of myself.

"Of course, you don't. It would hurt once again in the extreme. But remembering the euphoria it is possible to reach is what drives some people to become obsessed with being caned. They yearn for it, and submit willingly to sadists such as myself to satisfy their obsession. It would be diabolically painful to those people receiving the first strokes of their next caning, until the brain once again acts to help the body's distress by turning the pain into pleasure. The danger is, it is always possible it may not work every time, and the victim is left to savour nothing but agony from every stroke."

"It's frightening to even think about it," I replied.

"I will certainly miss the opportunity to cane you again, Mr. Emerson."

"As you suggested to me last month, Madam Popescu, perhaps I could return one day to stay for a short time, and even receive a caning from you," I ventured, with a smile.

"An intriguing thought," she answered. "I think we would enjoy having you back here someday."

A sudden fear that I was going to lose Madam Popescu and all her sadistic guards flooded my mind. I wasn't going to see them again, and I knew I was going to miss them badly, more than I first realised. I think I had formed strong relationships with them despite how they treated me.

Then, movement from Becky caught my eye. She was lifting a bag. "I brought you some clothes just in case you do leave today," she said.

Another surge of pleasure flowed through me, then almost immediately there was doubt. Why did she say, 'just in case' I did leave today? I looked quizzically at Madam Popescu.

"Mr. Emerson," said Madam Popescu, leaning forward on her desk and clasping her hands together. "This offer of early release does not come without an element of risk on your part."

That killed the mood slightly.

"Do you recall me mentioning the idea of a gamble?"

I did remember, but I thought it had come to nothing. "Yes," I answered.

"Perhaps now is the time to explain the idea I came up with, especially given your sadness at the possibility of leaving us." She glanced briefly at Becky again. "You once mentioned a gamble to me when I first caned you, a simple toss of the coin to either double the number of strokes or escape your caning altogether. I refused at the time, but I did find the idea intriguing. The truth is, I was so looking forward to caning you, I didn't want to take the chance on losing the bet and thus lose the opportunity. I decided to test you by asking Madam Justyna to offer you a similar toss of the coin bet which I was very pleased to hear you accepted and subsequently lost. So, the idea of something with a great deal more at stake began to form in my mind, which I mentioned to you recently. I spoke to Mrs. Emerson a month or so ago, and ran my little idea past her to see what she thought. Her response was rather enthusiastic. She did confirm you enjoyed the occasional gamble; it didn't surprise me as you often visited my casino. So, with Mrs Emerson's backing, I've decided to go ahead and present you with my idea to see how you would feel about it."

I was feeling a little worried as I listened to Madam Popescu, but I realised I'd been naïve to think early release would come without some sort of risk.

"You genuinely seemed a little saddened to be leaving us early and have intimated a return to this establishment is something you would consider. This game I've come up with might be something that interests you."

"What is it?" I asked, my voice sounding much less cheery than it had a couple of minutes ago.

The woman who had been checking over the release papers and doing other clerical stuff handed some A4 sized envelopes to Tilly who passed them to Madam Popescu who then placed them on the desk before her.

"Being granted a three week early release is not quite as straight forward as I may have intimated. This is where the gamble comes into it. How high a stake would you like to bet with, Mr Emerson?"

"I'm not clear." I looked at Becky whose cheeks were flushed. She was aroused, so this game ... or gamble ... was getting her very excited.

"Imagine the thrill of gambling with your freedom to gain this early release."

I felt all eyes in the room on me. My mouth was so dry as my stress levels rose and those joyful thoughts of going home today faded. I was being asked to gamble, the prize being early release, but what would I lose? If so, the prize had certainly been dangled before me as temptation.

"Let me tell you what is in these four envelopes." She placed her hands on them. "One of them contains the papers authorising your immediate release, three weeks earlier than your due date. The other three contain different lengths of time you will spend in prison."

She studied my face as well as my penis which, incredibly, was beginning to stir. "The way the game is played is simple: you choose one of the envelopes and accept whatever it contains."

"I not sure I understand, Madam Popescu. I thought you'd just offered me release, three weeks early. Why would I choose to risk staying even longer here? What exactly is in those other envelopes?"

"I will explain. One of the envelopes contains your immediate release, but the other three authorise you to remain a prisoner under the same conditions as before, but each has a different length of time you must serve. One of them is that you complete your normal sentence which finishes in three weeks just as you expected, so nothing lost or nothing gained. The second adds three weeks onto your original sentence which means you will leave here in six weeks, three weeks beyond your due release date. The third, which is the exciting part of the gamble, adds six months onto your original term."

I gasped at six months. I couldn't cope with that.

"If you agree to this wager, you will sign verbally, making whichever envelope you select a legally binding contract under Siskovian law. You will be effectively accepting that this meeting is a kind of parole evaluation in which your final release date is determined based on your behaviour during your time in this prison. It will have no escape clause whatsoever if you accept the gamble. As I say, it will be legally binding."

"What do I get out of it? Surely if it's a wager, I should stand to win something."

"You do stand to win something; you may choose the envelope that releases you immediately, three weeks early." She actually smiled at me. "Mr. Emerson, look around at the ladies. See the anticipation in their faces. Feel the fire of excitement inside you. What you also get is the most amazing, exhilarating moment you will ever experience. Making a random selection that will either send you home earlier than you expected, to enjoy the rest of your life with a beautiful woman, or staying a few extra weeks or a chance of some extra months in a prison cell being maltreated by beautiful, sadistic guards. Does the excitement of it not make that a winning game for you, whichever you choose? And you may still go home today, three weeks before you expected."

I turned to Becky. "What about your boyfriend?"

"If you come home with me, he already knows our short time together is over. I told him you were eligible for early release after I spoke to Madam Popescu. If you have to remain here until your normal time, or longer, I will stay with him until then. I don't love him, David, I just have sex with him. Because of you being in here, the sex is amazing, just imagine how much this would please me if you risked staying a little longer."

I could imagine. It would make my suffering deliciously cruel knowing I would have to stay here while my wife was enjoying sex with this man. I wanted to go home and have sex with her myself, even if was one last time before confronting her over the way our lives were going. But I wanted to do all the other things I loved, and I had the chance of doing them tonight, tomorrow and every day after.

"Think carefully, Mr. Emerson. You don't have to accept my offer. You can refuse the gamble and remain the original three more weeks, or you can accept the gamble and risk a one in four chance of being here for another six months. Once you speak your agreement in front of all these witnesses, the gamble will happen and you will be compelled under law to adhere to the terms of whichever parole decision is selected."

I looked at Becky. "Madam Popescu, could I have an hour to think about it?"

"No, Mr. Emerson. The offer must either be accepted or rejected now. It will be withdrawn in five minutes from now." She looked at her watch.

"Becky ..." I pleaded. "I want to go home ... but ..."

"It's your decision, David," she said, opening her legs giving me a view of the insides of her thighs right up to the white knickers that covered her most delicious place. She was doing that not to entice me to go home with her, but to add extra flames to my desire of risking losing it. She knew me so well, but I knew how her mind worked too; she wanted me to take the gamble. It was just like in the casino when she made the decision for me, without my knowledge, to gamble on the next turn of the card thus landing me in this prison for so long. My anger towards her rose, but so did the feel of humiliation and frustration that would accompany the risk of losing the gamble. I would be losing to her, the woman I was growing to despise.

"Whatever the outcome," Madam Popescu said, "I will not repeat the game at the end of the sentence you pick. You will definitely go home at the end. This is a one off game; take it or leave it, you have four and a half minutes to choose."

I looked at the guards, trying to sense something in their faces. What should I do? But the thought of voluntarily gambling to lose my freedom again was so exciting, my penis was rock hard. All I had to say was 'no' and I'd be back in my cell for the last three weeks just I had expected when I woke up this morning. But, if I picked the early release envelope I would be sitting on a seat for our flight home today, and in my own bed, wrapped in a naked embrace with my beautiful sexy Becky who I loved and hated. Who knows, we might even be able to sort out our problems. But the temptation of risking it all for an incredible, earth shattering, thirty second adrenalin orgasm, was screaming down my ear.

"You have less than four minutes to decide."

Becky stood and approached me. I tilted my head down to her as she reached up to whisper softly and sexily in my ear.

"Two of the four envelopes are no problem at all, are they, David? And even the extra three weeks isn't too much of a risk. You may choose the release papers and go home today, or stay for your normal time. In fact, the extra three weeks would get it out of our systems, which wouldn't be bad. The big risk for us is the six months, that's really what makes this so exciting. And in that time, you may even risk getting another caning from Madam Popescu while I'd get another six months sucking Josh's big cock while you're locked away in your cell."

She brushed her breasts against my chest before allowing her hip to touch my penis accidently on purpose. I moaned.

"You have less than three minutes, Mr. Emerson."

"Oh, Becky, this is terrible, I want to go home now, but it's such a risk. The extra three months I volunteered for have almost driven me insane with frustration knowing you were with him and you should have been with me. It has been the most incredibly frustrating experience. But that was three months, this might be six."