Mandatory Chastity University Pt. 03

He had to smile at that and raised his brows. "If this is the way you teach me a lesson I am all in," he teased her back, still feeling the wetness of her spit between cage and cock.

"You got Audrey to thank. If she had said no I would have left you to stew all by yourself." She gave him a mustering look and then asked: "Are you good to drive? Or should we head to one of the ice-machines in the cafeteria to cool you down a little before diving into traffic."

Bryson adjusted his trousers with a pinching grip of his fingers. He was still desperately hard. "I think I can work with this. Just... Maybe keep your hands to yourself for the ride."

Imogen leaned back and put on her seat-belt as the engine started to come to coughing life. "No promises," she quipped.

***

Despite her threats for further mischief the ride back home went by quick and without a hitch, allowing Bryson to actually calm down a little after the frustrating but mind-blowing oral attention his locked cock had received, since he could distract himself with the familiar task of negotiating traffic. The almost painful embrace of the cage lessened and after a few minutes he could almost forget it was on him, if it wasn't for a potent reminder every now and then when he shifted his leg in order to handle the pedals of the car which then made the cage move against his body.

There was something devious about him noticing the cage like that. He felt arousal every time he was reminded of it, and every time he got aroused even a small reminder became rather sharply emphasized by the sudden feeling of frustrating tightness. He had to get used to the feeling of being caged, or else these would be a difficult couple of months. Naturally it didn't really help to have the girl beside him who had been the most frequently recurring cast member of his erotic fantasies for the last two months. Especially since she seemed to revel in this new and exciting power she held over him and with every glance they exchanged there seemed to be a glint in her eyes letting him know: 'Oh, I love that you're locked up and I know I turn you on. Too bad you can't do anything about it.' without uttering a single word.

He brought the car into the driveway to his family home and they got out. It smelled fantastic the moment they opened the door. Bryson had hoped they'd be able to sneak past his step-mother and get up to his room for a few rounds of video-games before lunch but his plans were quickly foiled.

"Hey Miss Clarke!" Imogen cheerily announced their return, "God! Whatever you're cooking, it smells so good!"

Already holding onto the banister, Bryson gave Imogen a reproachful glance but she just winked and nodded her head towards the kitchen door. He breathed out with a sigh and then trudged over without much enthusiasm, thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans.

Charlie looked up from her book and smiled at them. "Already back, you two? I would have thought you'd take a little longer. Did everything go well?"

"Yep! All's good," Imogen was quick to answer, raising her brows at her friend, "Right Bryson? I got my first taste of college and I really enjoyed it, anyway!"After she said it she flicked the tip of her tongue against the corner of her upper lip teasingly, more than enough to remind Bryson of the view he enjoyed not too long ago, his petite brunette friend cradling his locked up balls in her hands while licking his cock through the cage. She definitely got a taste there.

That cruel little tease! He swallowed hard and within seconds he felt his erection throb against medical grade steel with no way forward. Of course he had been aroused around his step-mother before, any teenager would be occasionally, though with the contraption keeping him prisoner and Imogen giving him that shit-eating grin this situation was unnervingly distracting and frustratingly arousing.

"Y-yeah..." he stammered with an unusually timid voice, both of his hands holding onto the backrest of a chair to keep it firmly in front of his crotch. While the cage had a pretty subtle profile he felt like the way he twitched in it might still be seen through his pants and the chair gave him some extra security. "Everything went well. I'll have to see if I can adjust to life on campus, but so far I think I can manage."

Charlie seemed to pick up on his slightly on-edge demeanor and she gave him a mustering look lasting just a few seconds longer than necessary. But she finally nodded to his remark. "Right," she said before dismissing her thoughts with a shrug, "They sent us a letter too." She poked her fingertip at an envelope resting on the table. It had been opened and half-way inside was a small instructional, multi-page booklet, the title reading: 'Milton Experiment Parental Guidance'.

Bryson felt a chill run down his spine as he imagined Charlize reading about his situation. But he figured that almost everyone would be aware of what it meant if he was a student taking part in the experiment. Especially if he was a male student. Imogen seemed to read his mind since she gave him a subtle nod and then grinned at him. She enjoyed his new situation a bit too much, and this was a side to her he hadn't seen before and he found both kind of annoying and frighteningly attractive and arousing at the same time. The fact that the device itself made it impossible to work through those conflicting emotions by masturbating only served to increase his uncertainty and doubts.

"With your Dad still being overseas for the rest of the year to manage the school project in Scotland I figured I'd read up on the material," Charlie continued without really catching on to the situation, startling Bryson out of his thoughts. "It all looks terribly strange and a little bit scary at first glance, but you picked your college yourself so I'll be there to help you along your journey if you need it." She peeked at the clock on the wall and gave first Imogen then him a conciliatory look, "Sadly lunch is still a good ways off being completed. If you go up to your room I'll call you down once I got it all ready."

Internally Bryson thanked Charlie for giving him an out and he granted her a smile, turning around all too eager to leave and figure out his new situation.

"Thanks a lot Mrs. Clarke!" Imogen piped up, helpfully adding: "It's probably for the best, Bryson still has to get used to the device after all."

He froze mid-step and barely dared to look at Charlie, though he felt the inquisitive glance she gave him and heard the hesitation in her voice as she answered: "Please, you can call me Charlie. And really? Oh..." It was pretty clear that she was caught off guard and also rather uncomfortable with this revelation. She let out a nervous chuckle that she quickly suppressed by biting down on her lip. "Well... If they did that then there's a reason to it."

Charlie let out an exasperated sigh and more to herself murmured: "God, I wish your father was here right now to deal with this." She paused for two breaths to collect herself. "Anyway, the booklet mentioned that it's mostly a hands-off thing for parents. But if you have any issues then don't be afraid to come to me, okay Bryson? I know this is strange and awkward, for me as much as you."

Bryson finally managed to look at his step mother and saw the insecure look in her eyes, finding some sort of solace in the fact that she also couldn't maintain eye-contact. At least she wasn't beaming at him like Imogen did as he could tell from seeing her at the periphery of his vision.

"I think it will be fine, don't worry about it," he said in a voice that continued to be unusually meek for him when speaking with Charlie, "We'll be upstairs."

With that he took Imogen by the upper arm and squeezed her a little harder than he had to, pulling her along with him even as she called out: "No worries, Mrs. Clarke! Us girls will have classes on how to deal with the guys this year, you shouldn't really have to concern yourself with him unless you want to!"

"You little bitch..." Bryson whispered as they headed up the stairs, Imogen before him cackling like a little pixie even as he gave her shoulder a playful slap. He noticed the bounce in her short pleated skirt on their way up and had to swallow, once more being firmly restrained by the cage hugging his penis. His usually practiced and quick steps up the stairs got out of whack and he banged his shin against the edge of a stair, hobbling up the last few steps more carefully while frowning.

"That's for you being all mean to her earlier today," Imogen whispered back, "From now on you will be nicer and you will definitely not make me part of any excuses to slight her. Okay?"

They entered his room and plopped down on his couch like they had done so many times before. "Fine," he admitted, realizing that he had been a bit of a dick earlier on this morning.

"How about I make it up to you though?" she asked, leaning in and grabbing the remote with one hand to flick on the TV, her other hand already holding a controller, "We can play a round of Backalley Fighter. No whining from me, and you can pick whatever character you want."

Bryson looked at her in surprise, grabbing a controller himself and grinning eagerly. "Deal!"

They had played the video game a few times but quickly stopped because Bryson had become pretty good at it after hours and hours of playing it online. Whenever they played against each other he had decimated Imogen and they had started to limit Bryson to the weaker characters in the game to keep a level playing-field until he started to beat her decisively that way too. She found his gloating and hollering so obnoxious that they tended to stick to other games, even if Bryson tried to get her to play Backalley Fighter every few days.

At first the game went by as expected, each player had to knock their opponent out three times in order to win the whole fight and Bryson landed his first K.O. not even a minute into their match, luring a frustrated sigh from his friend. He gave her a cocky smile and was glad for this distraction since his confusingly erect cock had become a whole lot more flaccid again.

"Maybe I just need some proper motivation," Imogen mused, still looking rather grumpy at the overly quick initial defeat, "How about a little bet?" She gave him a smile and he looked at her like she was crazy.

"I mean, if you want to lose, sure!" he teased her, "Unless you can pull out some secret skills you're not really gonna win against me. Just take the L and admit that I got a little too good for you in the game. And then we can come out of the match with only some bruised egos an no crippling gambling debt. Well, one bruised ego, little miss cock-tease."

She rolled her eyes at his boasting and shook her head. "How about this? If I win this match by knocking your character out three times you will have to clean up after lunch. I know you want to weasel your way out of that even if you promised your mom to do it. But not only will you do it unasked, you will also say to Charlie: 'I guess I should help a little more now that I've got all this excess energy due to my situation.' That's all."

He looked at her incredulously and then laughed. "No way in hell!" he blurted out, "I will never say that. And she's not my mom. Why would I even accept the bet? There's no way you'll win and what could you potentially offer in return?"

She grinned after the outburst she pretty much expected and calmly explained: "I know Audrey a little bit. I can put a word in for you. Tell her to unlock you after the mandatory 14 days of lock-down are over. You saw yourself that she isn't very much into this whole experiment and you'd have a hard time convincing her yourself. And not only that, if she unlocks you I will be there with you and I will help you cum."

That took the wind out of his sails and his mirth had given way to pondering calculation. "You'd really do that? And you wouldn't pussy out and just leave me hanging?"

She shook her head, keeping him fixed with her hazel eyes and a subtle smile on her lips, but enough seriousness in her expression for him to know she meant it.

Finally he nodded and sat upright from his previously slouched down, comfortable position. He was slipping into gamer-mode.

"Say it," Imogen demanded, "Let me hear you say you agree to the bet."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh come on... Fine! I agree to the bet. And you better do as well, because there's no chance in hell I lose!"

Imogen grinned and sat up as well, putting the controller down on her thighs and rubbing her palms against her mini-skirt to secure her grip. But then she angled her body sideways, resting her back against the arm-rest of the couch. She kicked off her shoes and placed her ankle-sock clad feet in Bryson's lap with a wicked smile on her lips, whispering: "Just you wait. I'm in a much more relaxed position now. You're going down!"

He tried to reply with his own little bit of banter, but found himself stammering instead. His body reacted to her feet like it had for the last few weeks: He got a raging erection. Just that this time it had nowhere to go, making him immediately and thoroughly uncomfortable. He pulled at the crotch of his pants with a pincer grip as if that could alleviate his troubles, knowing that it wasn't really his pair of jeans that caused this distress but the cage underneath keeping him in its steely grip.

He tried his best to focus on the game, to recall the familiar patterns of combos, to time the blocks just right and to use his special abilities whenever the meter was at full charge. But his mind wasn't fully available, preoccupied with the feet in his lap that had begun to squirm now that Imogen played the game, so close to him that he could feel their weight press the cage against him, increasing the pressure on his balls even more. There was no way Imogen couldn't feel the way he twitched under her soles, but when he looked at her she was totally focused on the screen, the flickering, colorful lights painting patterns on her youthful features. She was so fucking beautiful! He glanced down to her feet, squirming in his lap as she was completely rapt by the game, leading to her dancer's legs, so smooth and toned.

"Got your ass! It's a draw now, baby!" she celebrated, giving him a gloating grin. He turned to the screen and found that she had indeed knocked his character out, her female player model standing above the opponent, one of her feet on him like a big-game hunter with his prey.

Bryson swallowed. "I guess you did." There was a hint of panic in his voice. He hadn't even seen the way she beat him! A part of him felt elation for her calling him 'baby', even if it was just to shit-talk him during a game, and another part of him suddenly had to contend with the very real possibility that he had to say that stupid sentence to who he saw as his gold-digging bitch of a step-mother. He swallowed hard and then was startled when Imogen used one of her feet to slap his thigh.

"What's the matter, dishwasher? Ready up!" she ordained and he hurriedly did, starting out the third round of their battle, the score now 1-1.

He tried to lean in and promised himself to pay more attention this time, there was so much on the line! Though even when he wasn't distracted and didn't have a dull ache pressing against his balls he needed all of his attention on the game to land the complicated combos. But like this? There was no chance. Imogen destroyed him. He put up a bit more of a fight than last round when he got lost looking at his crush, but he just couldn't compete. He landed maybe two kicks that could easily be blocked while Imogen chewed up his health-bar with steady, focused attacks.

"Awwww..." she made after her uncontested victory, giving him an impertinent, patronizing pout, "Didn't make it? Poor little you... Looks like you're the loser this round as well. Does that chip away at your pride? Are your precious man-feelings hurt since a woman is about to beat you?" She giggled cutely and leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. This meant that her feet pushed down on his crotch with nearly the full weight of her legs, painfully stretching the throbbing cock that vehemently and pointlessly attempted to escape a perfectly secure prison. He grimaced during the kiss and could only inhale with a sharp gasp as she leaned down even more, using one fingertip to free first one, then the other foot of her socks, letting them drop to the carpet.

"Come on," she said as she leaned back, allowing him to sit less stiff again, her bare toes poking his flank before resting in his lap again, "Last round if I win, maybe try to give it your all this time? Would be a shame if the game was over already, right?"

He nodded his head stupidly, though a spark of defiance lit up in his eyes as he met hers. "This isn't fair..." he tried to complain and Imogen just shrugged.

"There's nothing in the rules about bare feet. And only a degenerate little freak would lose all capacity to reason due to these..." she lifted one foot up, arching it and wiggled her bare toes in the air, inches away from his face, his eyes focusing on it, completely enraptured. She made a little pause and the foot remained where it was, suggesting: "Give it a kiss for good luck. Maybe that will help."

When he did it without thinking or hesitation Imogen's giggle brought him back into reality, making him blush. "You're fucking hopeless..." she teased him, dropping her foot back down into his lap, the impact firm enough to make him wince with his whole body. "Now ready up so I can destroy you fully!"

He did as she told him and couldn't help but think back to earlier this morning, when they were seated in a pretty similar way, her bare toes around his throbbing cock, teasingly milking a load out of him and-

"I win, you lose!" Imogen gloated from the side. She squirmed into a kneeling position on the couch, removing her feet from his lap, and tightly hugged him. Bryson had barely paid attention this last round and could only passively sit there in her embrace, breathing out through trembling lips as his phone suddenly dinged. He glanced at the screen. It was Audrey and the message read:

'What's going on? The app is going all crazy warning me that you are seriously aroused and that the cage is moving? It tells me to activate a warning-cycle for the spikes?'

Imogen peered over his shoulder and giggled. "No worries, I got this," she said in a calming tone of voice, her fingers quickly flying over the screen of her own phone, replying to Bryson's focus with:

'My bad! He'll calm down soon. No spikes pls.'

In that moment they heard a call from downstairs: "Bryson? Imogen? Lunch is ready!"

***

Lunch was pretty awkward with Bryson being fully aware what was expected of him by the end of it. The feverish arousal he had felt with Imogen's game-breaking feet in his lap hadn't really dissipated and he was still throbbing in severe discomfort, and every time he felt like it might finally get soft again she shot him a knowing look over her plate and the spark in her eyes was enough to make him tremble with arousal.

It wasn't just that she teased him, it was also the fact that she knowingly manipulated him, using her knowledge of his situation and his focus on her feet to gain an advantage over him. Was it fair? Not really. Was it hot? God yes, and he wasn't even able to wrap his mind around just why that was the case. But the thought of Imogen gloating over him with every lost round, ramping up the humiliation of beating him at his own game was undeniably sexy to him. On the one hand he really didn't like it because he was in deep discomfort, on the other hand he was only in deep discomfort because this all excited him beyond reason.