Third Test

It had been almost a week since M and Charlie spent their night together. She had kept him in chastity for a week with orders not to contact her, then took him to a party where she'd hooked up with another guy named Brian. They spent the night together, talked about their growing relationship the next morning, and M accepted that he would be her cuckolded submissive. He'd showered and serviced her, made her breakfast, and left her apartment again in chastity.

That was Saturday morning, and for the next week things had returned to how they had previously been the month they'd known each other. A good morning text exchange, some more texts over their lunch times about their days, and a short phone call in the evening to say goodnight. Two weeks in chastity with only a single, unsatisfying, orgasm Friday night were beginning to take its toll on M; he was growing anxious to see Charlie again, wanted nothing more than his cage off to play and have a real orgasm, and found his cock throbbed and leaked any time he saw a text or call from her.

M was reluctant to share his "problems" with Charlie; he didn't want to make every conversation about him and how horny he was, and somehow, he suspected Charlie was already aware having been the one to put him in chastity. She had been incredibly busy and stressed at the clinic as things were, putting in extra hours and having her weekend cut short by an additional shift Sunday. However horny he was, he didn't want to impose on her, and he trusted she would release him from his cage when she decided he needed to be.

Or, when she wanted him released. Over the past week, M had time to digest and internalize his current situation and his developing dynamic with Charlie. He was beginning to find the loss of control over his own sexual release enjoyable in its own right, becoming more pliable and eager to serve and please others. He was growing more energetic, finding ways to channel his pent-up sexual energy into other, more productive, activities. And, he was growing more outgoing, chatting more with the people in his office and everyday life, and eager to engage in small talk.

M only realized how far he had come in such a short time, when his boss called him into her office Thursday at the end of the day. M had never been satisfied in his job, was apathetic at best about his coworkers, and had a strained working relationship with his manager over what he perceived to be unrealistic job expectations. As such, he never gave much thought to his job performance or what his coworkers thought of him, and never tried to impress.

But as he sat that afternoon across from her, listening to her compliments about his improved job performance and office conduct, he was shocked, then exhilarated, to find himself growing incredibly aroused. It all made sense; the chastity was pushing his need to serve to the forefront as an outlet for pent-up energies, and without even realizing it, he was acting in service to his coworkers and especially his boss. He'd never even considered his boss attractive, finding her obtrusive and demanding, but here and now he found her mentally and sexually magnetic in ways he never expected.

When she finished her statement with "good job", M secretly wished she'd actually said "good boy". He lowered his head, feeling an enthralling mixture of arousal and humility, and embarrassment at being so sexually aroused at work. Part of him was horrified at the idea when he stood, she would notice his erect but caged cock jutting out of his pants and a wet spot from his leaking precum, but a growing part of him was thrilled at the idea of being noticed that way.

M uttered a humble "thank you, Miss", stood, and tried to scurry out of the office before his boss noticed. He was halfway out the door when he realized he called her "Miss" rather than her name, and was already kicking himself for it when he heard her call out from behind him.

"It's Ani," his boss said. M's hand was already on the doorknob, and a brief moment of panic and humiliation spread through him as his mind kicked into overdrive over how to cover for it. M nearly forgot his own arousal, as he turned halfway around to say, "sorry, Ani, thank you".

M saw Ani's eyes dart up and down his body; his heart sunk straight into his chest as he realized there was no way she wouldn't notice his caged erection, least of all from the side where it would be most visible. The way he now stood from her point of view. Ani raised an eyebrow, lips parted in a slight gape; M swallowed, holding his breath and waiting for the inevitable hell to pay. Best case, he'd spend the next week in HR being lectured about sexual harassment and workplace conduct; worst case, M was about to be fired.

"Is something the matter?" Ani asked him. Either she hadn't noticed after all, or she was choosing to disregard his visibly erect, but restrained, penis. In the back of his mind, M found himself hoping Ani liked the view. Either way, he breathed in relief he hadn't been immediately called out for his -- unintended -- behavior.

"I...just have to pee, sorry," M blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Again, as soon as he said it, he immediately regretted it: in an world full of possible excuses, M made the one which would draw attention to his penis. Still, it could have been worse, although M found himself wondering for how.

"Oh..." Ani replied, quizzically. M stood, his hand on her office door, nearly paralyzed in horror and embarrassment. He wasn't sure if she was about to say anything else, or if she expected him to leave. An awkward silence fell in the room, leaving M feeling naked and vulnerable -- and still incredibly aroused.

Ani broke the silence, an inscrutable look on her face: "you should go pee, then".

"Yeah, I'm going to go pee now," M said, still in social fight-or-flight mode. "See you tomorrow," he added, for some reason. Did M just ask his boss for permission to pee, and did she just grant it? or, was he just stuck in his own headspace -- again?

"See you tomorrow," Ani said, breaking his train of thought. M could not get out of her office -- or the building -- fast enough. He got in his car, and sat with his head on the steering wheel.

"Shit...shit...shit..." he said, bumping his head against the wheel. M was equally humiliated, horrified, and thrilled. His cock still strained within the cage, leaking profusely, frustrating M for his inability to relieve his arousal and stress. M's head spun at his own stupidity, and its possible outcomes -- the spectre of an impending visit to HR looming most of all.

M took his phone out of his pocket. He needed to talk to Charlie -- the only person who knew about his current situation, and would understand. She'd know what to do. He texted her, "something happened at work, I need to talk".

A few minutes went by, and M sat in his car uncomfortably. He was about to start it and go home, but he got a text back from her. "Took a quick break, what happened?" Charlie asked.

M wasn't sure how to begin, or how to keep it short and simple for texting. "My boss complimented me for doing a good job at work and I got hard in front of her". Long moments passed, and M was about to text again to elaborate, but his phone buzzed with another text.

"LOL". It was not the response M expected, and he felt a little angry at her lack of empathy underneath his embarrassment. Another text quickly followed, "was she pissed?"

M replied, "I don't know, I couldn't tell. I'm not even sure she noticed."

"It was a yes or no question," came the response. M was getting used to Charlie's style of directly confronting M when he vacillated, but it still took him by surprise. He stopped, took a breath, and reconsidered the brief but humiliating exchange between himself and Ani. If she had noticed his erection and been angry about it, she definitely would have said something. Or at least, reacted more negatively.

M texted, "no". More long moments passed before Charlie's next text.

"Are you worried, or did you just want to tell me about it?" Charlie asked. Her questions always had a way of cutting through the bullshit, and forcing M to confront how he really felt and what he really wanted. He realized he probably didn't have anything to worry about at work -- men get unwanted erections all the time and women understand that, it was just an awkward moment, and M wasn't being a creep about it. Ani had always been thoughtful and fair, and if she noticed it at all, she probably let it go.

So...what did M really want? M considered the question carefully before answering. "I needed to tell you," he started, already knowing he would need to justify that answer. "I got hard because I realized I was submitting to my boss, and I felt guilty". M felt afraid; he had no idea how Charlie would react to this. Still, it was the truth and he had to face whatever consequences Charlie deemed necessary.

She texted back, "don't, this is good and I'm happy. I have to get back to work. Go to my apartment and clean it, the spare key is in a fake rock in the planter by the back door. I get off at eight. I'll bring takeout, and we can talk about it then. Bye!"

M replied, "yes mistress, thank you", before starting his car to drive to Charlie's apartment. The drive was pleasantly quick; he had managed to beat rush hour as he typically did, and even managed to find a good parking spot by her apartment. Charlie had a corner apartment facing away from the street, and M walked casually around the corner and to the back door, hoping none of her neighbors would see him and assume he was trying to break in. Charlie's apartment had a small patio; enough space for a deck chair, side table, and the planter which held the key holder.

M felt around inside the planter, found the fake rock, and opened it to retrieve her spare key. He unlocked the door, replacing the spare key, and stepped into her dark apartment shutting and locking the door behind him. Turning the light to her living room on, he saw her apartment was a slight mess; as busy as she had been this week, she clearly hadn't time to tidy up.

There were a couple empty hard cider bottles and glasses on her coffee table, sorted mail still on the dining table, dishes in the sink, her previous night's takeout on the kitchen counter, and the blankets and pillows on her couch were out of place. M walked into Charlie's bathroom and saw it was an even bigger mess, with delicates hanging on the shower rod, towels on the floor, toiletries out of place on the sink, and her hamper full of scrubs and house clothes. Checking her bedroom, M found her bed hadn't been made, a set of her bedclothes were on the floor, her dresser and vanity were as big a mess as everything else, and she'd thoughtlessly left her wand vibrator on her night stand.

M realized, that if he cleaned every countertop, did Charlie's laundry, and vacuumed, even four hours would be cutting it close. With little time to spare, M stripped, folding and setting his clothing on one of Charlie's dining chairs for lack of a better place, and started thinking about the best order to accomplish everything. He started by sorting her laundry, still smelling faintly of her which M enjoyed, and began the first round before cleaning her living room.

He picked up the trash, organized her coffee table and dining table, and put the dishes in the sink. He vacuumed, did her dishes, threw away the trash in her kitchen, and cleaned the countertops before putting the first round of laundry into the dryer and starting the second. He moved onto the bathroom, picking up the towels, organizing her sink and medicine cabinet, setting her delicates in the bedroom to sort and fold later, cleaning the sink, toilet, and bathtub. He finished the bathroom by mopping it and the kitchen floor at once, before emptying the dryer of the first laundry load, and throwing the second in it.

M went to the bedroom and was about to remove the bedsheets from the bed, when he noticed they smelled heavily of sweat. Charlie's...and someone else's. A heavier, masculine scent. The smell set M's mind ablaze, full of the same emotions and feelings he experienced the week before, when she'd fucked Brian at the party. Weaker, because then he'd caught them in the act and now he realized he was seeing -- and cleaning -- the aftermath, but still there.

M wasn't certain, however, until he peeked into the waste basket next to Charlie's bed and saw it...a used condom laying atop its torn wrapper. It was one of those extra large condoms with a flared tip, perfect for uncircumcised men allowing the foreskin to glide inside it, and judging by how far it had been rolled out Charlie's partner must have been very well-endowed. M grew slightly disgusted by himself, when he found himself looking closer to see whoever used it had quite the large load, judging from the volume of stale and yellowing fluid inside.

M had an impulse to pick the condom up and inspect it, but it was still a step too far for him, and he stood back up, shaking his head. At least he knew Charlie was being safe...or did she have her unknown sexual partner use the condom, intending him to find it when he cleaned her apartment? Did she plan for him to clean today at all, or was this a consequence of his texting her about Ani? If he hadn't been ordered to clean her apartment, would he have known about this at all?

The achy tightness of M's cage, and his week without orgasm, reasserted itself suddenly and strongly as his cock grew to its maximum hardness within it and begun to weep for lack of freedom. M's humiliation and disgust with himself combined with his growing arousal left his throat dry and his head slightly spinning. A thick gobbet of clear precum oozed from within the cage and dripped onto M's thigh, leaving a thick glistening strand, as he stood at the side of the bed reconstructing the events -- fantasizing about them -- that led to this mess.

But M didn't have time to loiter, and he set to work changing the bedsheets on which Charlie fucked another man while continuing to think.

Whose cock was that condom on, Brian? No, M realized...Charlie has a birth control implant, her only risk is STI, and she gets tested regularly as part of her job. Since Brian is in the same field he probably gets tested regularly, too, so they have no reason to use protection -- not that she would want it. M knew Charlie likes fucking Brian bare, and loves the feeling of his cum inside her. It had to be someone else...a hookup or new lover, maybe?

M's curiosity grew as he put Charlie's dirty bedclothes in the washing machine. How did things play out? The takeout and hard ciders must have been theirs, they had dinner and a couple drinks to loosen up. Given how untidy Charlie's couch was, they probably fooled around before taking things to her bedroom. Charlie must have still been clothed when they went to the bedroom, and she stripped there before fucking him...or did he strip her?

M suspected this unknown partner didn't stay the night; given the mess of the bathroom and that the towels on the floor were dry, he must have showered when they finished fucking, and left. She probably didn't shower with him...was it not good for her, or was she too cum drunk to get out of bed? Maybe his cock wasn't enough for her, and she decided to have more fun with her wand while he showered. She must not have been happy the man she was with, left her bathroom that big a mess.

M took Charlie's wand to the bathroom and cleaned it, putting it back in her night stand where it belonged before putting new sheets on the bed. He forgot his own arousal and humiliation, and found himself actually growing slightly angry on her behalf. Charlie had dinner with this man and fucked him, for him to leave a mess of her apartment to clean up while she had to resort to using her magic wand? She deserved better men in her life.

Or, maybe, Charlie was totally happy with this man leaving a mess, knowing M would be here to clean it up. After all, cleaning up after a night partying was another demeaning way for M to submit and serve her...and he was gratified to do it.

M shook his head, wondering if it was the fog of denied arousal leading him down this thoughtful path, or if he was truly accepting his role as Charlie's cuckolded submissive. It all blended together, and in these moments, he wasn't sure where his own arousal ended and his vicarious gratification and disappointment began. It was still new to him, and he wasn't sure if the distinction even mattered -- or if there really was one.

He finished Charlie's bedroom by tidying up her vanity and emptying the trash -- used condom included -- into the kitchen trash can. He tied off the bag and put his clothes back on to take it to the dumpster, before going back inside and stripping. M checked the clock, and noticing it was 7:00 already, realized he'd need to double down to get everything cleaned and proper before Charlie got home. He rushed to sort and fold Charlie's laundry, put it away in her dresser and closet, vacuum her living room carpet, and take a quick shower with barely enough time to take a breather on her couch.

He sat with his phone, checking messages and catching up on the day's news. Charlie hadn't messaged him so he assumed she was on her way home, and just a few minutes later he heard thudding on her door. He got off her couch, walked over, and looked through the peephole to see Charlie standing at the door, holding her bag and a pizza box. She stood, her shoulder-length hair already let down and falling messily around her chin, her makeup done in a light and professional manner.

M felt a flush of arousal just seeing Charlie, and for the first time since his rush to finish cleaning was reminded of his chastity cage's presence. After two weeks of continual wear, M was forgetting about it more often during his busy moments, as it was simply becoming a fact of life. It was no longer a constant hindrance in his life, but rather a convenient reminder of his servitude during idle times and brief flashes of arousal like the one he felt gazing through the peephole.

He unlocked the door and opened it, standing behind it, partially to make way for Charlie and partially to hide his nudity to others who might see. Charlie stepped in, muttering a quick and casual "good boy", and kept walking past him without a glance. M shut and locked the door behind her, watching Charlie's butt and thighs jiggle beneath her scrub pants as she walked through her living room. He felt his cock already starting to leak precum again, as she dropped her bag on her couch, stepped quickly into the kitchen to set down the pizza, and walked straight into her bathroom without shutting the door.

M heard Charlie peeing, and she groaned loudly from the relief. She called out from the bathroom, "set the table and get me a cider from the fridge, please".

"Okay," M replied, walking into the kitchen.

"What was that?" Charlie asked, and M could hear the sudden edge in her voice. Her casualness walking through the apartment and straight into the bathroom set M at ease, causing him for a moment to forget their dynamic. They had only known each other for a month and a half and this was their fifth meeting, and M was still balancing the various levels of protocol Charlie expected depending on situation; being it was just the two of them in her apartment, naturally she'd expect better than "okay".

"Yes, mistress," M said, "sorry". It still felt strange calling Charlie that; M thought it would take longer for her to expect it of him, or at least to have been more pomp and circumstance. Still, she hadn't collared him or broached the topic, indicating to him that even though they were using honorifics, she didn't consider the dynamic settled or there to be any level of commitment yet. But it was, like the cage around his cock and his presence in her apartment alone, a good sign that put him at ease.