First Test

"You've been a very good obedient boy," M read. "Are you ready for your test?" M looked at his phone, wondering what this was about. He thought he had passed the first test.

M had been talking to Charlie for a month. It all began when he matched with her on a kink dating site; Charlie was a lovely, curvaceous, dominant with wavy auburn hair who was a nurse and had a passion for mystery novels, and she caught Charlie's eye for having a desire for lifestyle D/s, FLR, and service submission. M was a service submissive interested in exploring more the lifestyle had to offer, after a lifetime of casual play and short-lived kinky flings.

After a few days' sending messages and texts, M and Charlie met for a coffee date. It went well; they had quite a bit in common, the two hours they spent together felt like minutes, and after a hug and a kiss they went their separate ways after arranging a second date. Charlie told him she preferred to take things slow with potential subs to weed out bad matches, and M was more than happy to oblige as he'd prefer to get to know her better as well.

Their second date was much the same, but dinner and drinks followed by some kissing and petting in M's car before he dropped her off at her apartment. Their third date was more involved and erotic; Charlie invited M to her home, to strip, clean her kitchen, prepare her dinner, and do dishes as acts of service. M performed exactly as expected to Charlie's satisfaction, and though he was disappointed there was no play or even touching, he felt the electricity of sexual tension and thrill in the air, Charlie's hungry eyes on him, and the dull throb of his cock as it shifted through various states of arousal the entire evening.

Towards the end of their third date, Charlie did something M didn't expect. She told him that before they ever played, she would need to give him a test of patience and dedication. Charlie had always been plagued by men who weren't really submissive, would vanish after a single play session, would come on too strong or try to go too fast, or simply ghost; she felt M was a potential match, but she had to be sure.

Charlie gave M a chastity cage with a plastic numbered padlock, and told him before he left her apartment, he was to go to the bathroom, put it on, and show her. M was allowed to do whatever was necessary to put the cage on, and left him alone in the bathroom with a bottle of lube to perform the deed. M was already familiar with how chastity cages worked, but the more he tried to fit himself inside the cage, the harder and slipperier his cock became. After several minutes of frustrating failure, M had to make himself cum before his cock would soften enough to fit inside.

Charlie had seen M's nudes on his dating profile, and had to guess his size for the cage. As it turns out, she did quite well; the ring was a bit snug, or at least it felt that way to M, and the cage was a perfect match for M's flaccid penis. It would perfectly contain his penis comfortably, preventing erection and making attempts to pull out of it while even half-erect nearly impossible. Charlie made sure to check M's work with a thorough visual inspection, making sure no skin was pinching and no blood circulation was being lost, before sending him on his way with instructions.

M was not to contact her until she contacted him first, unless he needed to remove the cage. If it was an emergency she would understand and give him another chance a week from then, but if not, it would be the end of exploring a D/s dynamic together. But, she reassured him, when the time was right she absolutely would contact him. The cage was proof of it, and all Charlie had to do when she saw him next was check the serial number on the lock. Overcoming the trepidation and sense of cooled sexuality from his post-orgasmic state, M agreed.

The first evenings were difficult for M; he could not get a good night's sleep, awakening in discomfort from the cage due to nighttime erection. Being in chastity barely felt erotic to him at all, just cumbersome and uncomfortable. But by the third evening, he was growing tired enough over time and accustomed to the cage, that uncomfortable nighttime erections just became a fact of life...but that level of acceptance just ushered in a new level of discomfort.

M could not remember the last time he had gone this long without release. The cage was no longer just an annoyance keeping him up at night; it was an omnipresent barrier denying him the relief of an orgasm. His thoughts strayed more and more towards sex and the growing desperate need for release, his erections stopped being nighttime disturbances but rather ceaseless reminders of his confinement, which in turn became constant thoughts of Charlie as the woman who'd ordered him caged.

M remembered his orders, but found his resistance wavering. He scoured his phone, reliving their lengthy and daily text conversations over the past weeks. He fixated on the pictures she sent him; never really explicit, but reminder enough to him of the potential costs of failing his test. He realized how habituated he was to speaking to Charlie regularly by now, and how much he would miss her even if it weren't for the cage.

He checked her social media just to see what she was up to and how she was doing, and more than once he nearly picked up the phone to text, before reminding himself of the orders she laid out. Days four and five became more tortuous, and day six nearly broke him when Charlie had posted a picture of herself on social media, out with friends, wearing a simple sundress that exposed nothing more than her shoulders and the vaguest hint of cleavage. He was so desperate to cum, for her attention, that merely a picture was enough to send him to the brink of failure, and begging for a second chance; M had to put his phone down and force himself to do anything that got him away from it for the day, just to have a chance of passing his test.

And at last, on the afternoon of that seventh day, almost exactly one week since Charlie had M cage himself, came the text at which he was now looking.

"You've been a very good obedient boy, are you ready for your test?"

Just hearing from her for the first time in a week set M's heart racing. He had secretly doubted, wondering if this was some elaborate prank or deliberate act of sadism. He was even beginning to feel a little angry, that she would do such a thing and leave him hanging for a week. But Charlie was apparently genuine, and her text removed that doubt from his mind. A swirl of emotions ran through his head, as he wondered what she'd been up to and how she'd been for the past week; what was going on, and what did she plan?

And, wasn't this the test? To see if he could stay caged and without contact for a week?

M's hands shook as he replied, "hey! Thanks for messaging! How have you been? Wasn't this the test?"

Within minutes came Charlie's next text: "I've been good, just work. It's been a busy week so I haven't had time to really do anything. This was just the first part of the test...the test actually comes tonight. A friend is having a small party, nothing crazy, but I need you to DD. I'll send you the address, pick me up at 8:00. Dress casual."

M was confused; what does a party have to do with a test? Is it a sex or BDSM party? Is there anything he needs to know about? Isn't Charlie going to ask how his week went, how hard it was to function daily, how horny he was, or how much he thought of her? He began to feel a little frustrated about the lack of information, but resisted the urge to text about it, knowing he would see her soon to ask in person.

"Okay, see you then," he texted.

"Great!" came the reply. M would have little time after he left work to eat, get ready, and pick up Charlie. She didn't text after the confirmation; M resisted the urge to just ask, and focused on finishing his work as quickly as possible. For once the chastity cage was a relief, not a burden, as its presence inhibited unwelcome and visible erection for the rest of his workday as M's mind roiled with questions and possibilities -- a change of perspective which M was shocked and even a little thrilled by.

The rest of M's day was slow but difficult, but he managed well enough to leave slightly early, to ensure he had enough time to pick Charlie up as requested. After a quick meal, shower, and a change into fresh clothes which he hoped would be a nice mix between casual and impressive, M left to pick up Charlie with a quick text letting her know he's on his way.

"Thanks, I'll meet you outside!" came the reply. M drove quietly to Charlie's apartment feeling irritated at her beneath his pent-up sexual frustration, annoyed at her slightly entitled behavior but intrigued by whatever she had in store for the evening. M knew he could just say no and break things off any time he liked, but after a month spent getting to know Charlie and a week in chastity for her, he had already invested far too much in her to end a potentially good thing over a slight annoyance.

Or maybe it was his horniness muddling his mind, causing him to overlook yellow flags he wouldn't if he had a clearer mind. M wasn't quite able to tell, but for the moment he had little choice but to struggle against the unsurety and frustration, guarding against rash action on either side of the spectrum, and let things take their natural course with hopefully a positive resolution. Regardless, he soon found himself pulling into the parking lot of Charlie's apartment complex, and parking outside her unit, texted her to let her know.

Soon after, Charlie came out the door, wearing a crop top T-shirt, high-waisted leggings, and a pair of sneakers. Her auburn hair was tied into a loose bun, her makeup casual but slightly sultry, and dangling earrings dangled from her ears. She smiled, waving at M as her breasts and thighs jiggled, walking briskly to his car. M thought she looked more like she was about to go to the gym than a house party, and the thought of this evening being a more elaborate, scandalous, affair vanished from his mind.

Still, the sight of her, the movement of her body, and the occasional glimpse of skin beneath her crop top, set M's body alight with arousal. For not having spoken to her or seen her for a week, her presence was both intoxicatingly welcome and frustrating. His lack of sexual release for an entire week reasserted itself with a force M hadn't expected, and his mind fogged briefly as his cock strained against the cage; he felt the precum leaking from his restrained privates, leaving a warm and slimy mess of his underwear.

M tried to force the feeling aside, focusing on his rapidly dwindling annoyance at Charlie's behavior, to keep an even keel and retain his better judgment. He waved weakly back at her, feeling conflicted and self-conscious, as she walked up to his car and opened the door. He smelled the floral, but slightly musky, scent of her perfume as she sat in the passenger seat and shut the car door.

"Hey you," Charlie said, smiling, as she leaned over, putting her hand on M's shoulder possessively, pushing down slightly and kissing his cheek before M could turn his head and meet her lips with his own. He felt the warmth of her presence and softness of her skin, and her presence drove him even further into the fogginess of restrained and denied arousal. Before he could speak, Charlie continued. "I'm so glad you're coming with me, I told my friends about you and I can't wait for you to meet each other!"

M hesitated for a moment, not quite sure how to respond and taken by surprise, Charlie's subtle mixed signals and his own lack of sureity confusing him in his arousal. She either must have intuited his state of mind, or it was of her planning all along, because without a moment's hesitation she smiled mischievously and said, "so...how was your week?"

M cleared his throat, not quite sure how to start. His confined, oozing cock a constant reminder of how his week had really been, he chose to lead instead with a short and vague description of his work week and day-to-day activities, deliberately avoiding the topic of his "test" and its consequences...least of all, for that discussing his arousal and denial would simply drive him further into it. Charlie listened intently, maintaining her mischievous smile the entire time, and M found his focus shifting from his current predicament to his conversation with her.

Once he finished telling Charlie about his week, she quickly pivoted the conversation by giving him her friend's address. M restarted his car and begun to drive, as Charlie begun a detailed, entirely mundane, description of her own week between offering directions. M grew to realize the level of control Charlie had over the conversation, but as his attention was split between listening to her and driving, the rising sexual tension and low level of arousal he felt fell completely by the wayside. It was a feeling unlike anything he had really experienced before, and he was confused and excited by it.

Charlie finished her story, and heavy, sexually tense, quiet filled the car. M suddenly felt self-conscious and exposed; it seemed for the moment the only thing left to discuss was his "situation", and he both dreaded and anticipated the moment it would come up. He glanced over at her for the briefest of moments, and noticed she was sitting sideways in her seat, looking him up and down with that same mischievous smile, toying with an earring. It was almost as if she reveled in his discomfort, and was trying to decide for herself to address the elephant in the room or pivot the conversation.

M shifted in his seat, and his cock shifted slightly inside the warm and slimy cage, another needless reminder of it and the mess inside his underwear. He half-groaned, half-moaned in arousal and frustration, and feeling even more self-conscious, cleared his throat to play it off and preserve some dignity. He heard Charlie stifle a giggle, and opened his mouth to break the tension and distract from what just happened, but Charlie beat him to the punch.

"So," Charlie said, again taking control of the conversation, "my friends know I'm kinky, but most of them aren't. Casual and vanilla tonight, okay?"

M nodded, unsure whether to feel relieved or frustrated by the sudden pivot, and certainly relieved the party would be nothing outside the norm. "Okay," he said. He repeated her words for reassurance, "vanilla and casual". She leaned over and placed her hand on his thigh, squeezing it gently, her first contact with him since kissing his cheek. Her touch was electric, and M felt his body tense; his cock strained against the cage, and M pursed his lips to not embarrass himself with another sudden, reflexive vocalization.

Charlie laughed audibly at his reaction, a noise that felt like a slap to the face for M, leaving him even more frustrated and self-conscious. He was desperate to admit how deprived and horny he was, and how badly he really wanted clarity...and release. Even an overt acknowledgment from her about his current situation would be enough, a crack in the sexual tension and frustration that had built up in him over the past week.

But, something about the way Charlie controlled the conversation, and acted with seeming deliberation over his current circumstances, prevented M from finding the words he needed to express his desire. She was in complete control over everything currently happening; M discovered he genuinely didn't need to say a word and to simply trust Charlie's intuition. That brief moment of discovery somehow calmed and excited M at the same time; excited for being controlled so seemingly effortlessly, calmed for not needing to assert his own desires in the moment as they were already known and accounted for.

M felt his muscles relax, and he parted his lips to inhale deeply and exhale with a gentle sigh. He stretched his fingers on the steering wheel, and gripped it again with a much gentler touch. He reveled in Charlie's gentle but firm touch, feeling his frustration and confusion slip away, focusing on the road instead.

"That's right, let it go..." Charlie said, softly.

M realized in retrospect, there had been a power struggle from the moment Charlie stepped outside her apartment door. One of which M wasn't even conscious until now...was it the look on his face or the way he waved to her, that tipped her off he was annoyed with her? His body language? His reservation in telling her about his week, withholding commentary about about his experiences in chastity and sexual frustration?

Did she anticipate it, or did she actually plan for it to happen? How much of this was deliberate on her part? Or was this all in M's head? Did any of it even matter?

No, was M's conclusion. If there was a power struggle between the two, Charlie won long before it ever begun. If it was all in his head, all it took to break through was a touch and the right words at the right time. What, if anything, that came before this moment was in the past, and the path forward was for M to simply concede. M felt the bliss of submitting to Charlie flood his mind, and he breathed deeply and smiled.

"Good boy," Charlie said, and while M had heard those words spoken to him during play in the past, they were never quite like this. The validation of those words in this moment were nearly enough to bring M to tears, and they almost certainly would have if it wasn't for M's split attention. M drew another deep breath, and confident there were no other elephants in the room to discuss, drove the rest of the way to the party with only Charlie's directions breaking the now-comfortable silence.

"Just park here, we can walk the rest of the way," Charlie's last instructions broke M out of his blissful headspace. M had driven the two of them to an above middle-class suburb, the kind filled by labyrinthine roads named after trees, near-identical boxy houses financed by hedge funds and built by lowest bidders, and oppressive homeowners associations. M could never imagine living in a place like this to save his life, too much on pretense and too little on character, but he could imagine the allure to the average prospective homeowner. It wasn't the type of venue M expected when Charlie told him she was taking him to a party, but then, nothing had gone the way he expected since then.

He parallel parked on the street, they got out of the car, and Charlie led him down the sidewalk to one of those near-identical houses. M could hear music coming from the home faintly as its windows were open and muted chatter of voices, and instantly recognized this definitely would not be a wild party, but a more mute and intimate affair. He felt a twinge of nervousness at meeting Charlie's friends; who were they? from where did she know them? if they knew Charlie was kinky, what did they know about him?

M barely had a choice but to follow Charlie and find out.

They approached the door, and Charlie rung the doorbell. Shortly after, a tall and skinny brunette woman wearing a tank top and flowing skirt that descended past her knees, with bare feet that were neatly pedicured and painted, opened the door. Her straight hair fell just below her neckline, and she had piercing green eyes lit with a playful, inquisitive light. As soon as she saw Charlie, she smiled brightly and the two embraced with a kiss on the cheek.

A brief greeting and a moment of small talk that left M feeling slightly excluded later, the green-eyed woman looked M up and down with a smile. M felt diminished somehow, wondering what if anything Charlie had told her or how much she knew about Charlie. He felt as if the woman's eyes lingered on his crotch, making him wonder if she knew about his cage or if she had sneaked a peek at all. M struggled past his moment, hoping he hadn't overtly displayed his self-consciousness, and smiled back at her.