Servant for the Summer Ch. 11

Chapter Eleven - Infidelity

Having the house to myself felt strange. It had never happened in the nearly two months that I'd been working there.

Once I'd finished clearing up our breakfast things, I'd stood for a moment by the breakfast bar where she and I had been sat, missing her already, and reflecting on our conversation.

The way she'd clicked the padlock shut when she could have so easily left it unlatched. Oh how different my day ahead would be if she had. I would have been able to walk around naked with my cock unconstrained and free to grow. I could have given myself a wonderful orgasm.

But as it was, I was forced to be in my cage, purely because she liked the thought of me locked up and desperate.

The one thing I could have done was to remove my collar - but actually I found that I didn't want to. It felt somehow comforting. It reinforced my role. It made me feel all the more submissive.

My cock swelled up suddenly at the thought of her gaining enjoyment from my discomfort and desperation. Denying me clothes. Denying me orgasms. Denying me even being able to touch myself.

I thought of her stringing the little key onto her necklace. Without it, my manhood was trapped inside the cage - unable to even become erect. She knew the repercussions for me, and yet instead of keeping it safe somewhere, she simply had it on display hanging there just above her breasts. Oh god it turned me on.

Suddenly I thought of my huge erect cock sliding into her pussy only a relatively short while ago.

... and my huge erect cock sliding out again a bit later, unfulfilled and throbbing.

I groaned, looking at it now, trapped inside its little cage.

I wrapped my hand around it gently, not wanting to stimulate it any more and make the discomfort worse, and yet so desperate to wank myself that I needed to at least pretend.

I closed my eyes, and with my other hand I ran my fingers softly down my torso, imagining it was Steph touching me. I traced the shape of my abs, and followed the line that ran from my waist to my crotch, exploring the area around my cock ring. Steph had trimmed my pubic hair so short that it was almost non-existent, and it made me feel even more naked somehow. I loved that she wanted my body groomed according to her preferences.

I let my fingers stray down to my balls, freshly shaved, and super sensitive as I caressed them.

"Fuck," I cursed under my breath. I had to stop. This was torture.

I would get on with my jobs. Starting with Steph's room, and then I'd be able to devote the rest of the day to working in the garden and sorting out the dell, like Miss Bradshaw had instructed.

Picking up my phone - my only connection to Steph today - I walked through the empty house and up the stairs to her room. Going to her room gave me a frisson of excitement, even though of course she wasn't there.

But I also felt very self conscious as I made my way along the landing, knowing that I was on camera everywhere I went.

Was Miss Bradshaw watching me right now?

Or someone else...?

The thought made me tingle all over.

I arrived at her door and paused for a moment, remembering standing here earlier that morning, frozen in the doorway, mesmerised by Steph standing there in just her tiny pink knickers.

The memory of her perfect body, nearly naked in the morning sun, had a powerful physical effect on me, and I groaned again, half from sheer arousal and half from the acute discomfort of my cock swelling up urgently inside its confines.

I opened the door and stepped inside, and I was immediately presented with the mess of dresses strewn across the carpet.

That was my first task.

I set to it quickly, picking each one up, straightening it on its hanger, and putting it away into the enormous fitted wardrobe. A few of them were quite badly crumpled, and these I draped on the bed to be ironed, on the spot where Steph had sat only an hour or so ago. I felt my pulse quicken as I remembered standing there with my eyes closed, listening in rapturous silence as she masturbated.

"Oh god," I breathed, and quickly hastened to get on with my task, to distract myself from remembering any more.

I knew that the iron and ironing board were downstairs in the utility room which came off the kitchen, and there was also a large sink there which seemed the best place to do the handwashing she'd asked me to do.

I lifted the lid of the wicker basket by the door and peered inside. There was a surprising amount of laundry in there, and lying there on the top were the minuscule knickers she'd removed earlier and hung over my erection. I remembered vividly the feeling of the light material as they slid down my shaft. And I remembered with a quiet moan of frustration how good it felt to be fully erect.

I fetched the dresses which needed ironing, and, draping them over the basket, I was about to pick it up and head off downstairs when Steph's bedside table caught my eye. The drawer was slightly open and I could see a sliver of her bright pink dildo.

I had the sudden urge to go and look, but might there be cameras in here? It was innocent enough to be sorting her laundry, especially as she'd specifically added it to my list, but what if Miss Bradshaw caught me going through Steph's bedside table drawer?

It wasn't worth the risk.

I picked up the basket and headed out the door.

~~~

It took me quite a long time to iron her dresses, and handwash all her delicates, and as I pegged up the last pair of knickers on the washing line outside, I surveyed them all.

They were all so insubstantial. Steph definitely liked sexy underwear, and simply handling them turned me on as I thought about how she'd actually worn them - they had actually been on her perfect body, covering her pussy. Oh it was a delicious thought.

Feeling like a real pervert, I had smelled each pair before I washed them, breathing in her musky scent. What had become of me? What a deviant thing to do - and yet it turned me on powerfully. I hoped that Steph would have me go down on her again later, wherever it was that she had planned where there would be no cameras.

I was rather wet from being splashed by the water, and from the garments dripping as I hung them up - especially her silky nighties, and her cashmere jumper, and so I thought to myself that perhaps I'd go and have a quick swim.

And so, enjoying the freedom of just going and doing something of my own volition, and not because anyone had instructed me to do it, I went off to the pool and did a hundred lengths - which didn't take long given that the pool was only about ten metres long.

It felt wonderful to work my muscles, which were a little sore from all the sit-ups earlier, and as I pulled myself out of the water and made my way to the house, dripping water as I went, the sun felt wonderfully warm on my skin.

What a blessed life I was living, I thought. My friends would be in work right now, doing their nine to five jobs, but here I was, naked in the sun, with the prospect of thrilling sexual fun and games later on when Steph got home. I had no responsibilities as such - just to do what I was told - and in return I got to live in this amazing place, and to live out my new found fantasy of being a submissive young man.

Some people would no doubt think I was crazy to feel like I did. Perhaps they'd simply see my relationship with Steph as controlling and abusive. But I knew that she loved me. And she knew that I wanted - and on some level needed - to be treated like this.

We had discussed safe words one night, lying curled up together in the dark, my unsatisfied cock throbbing insistently against her bottom, ignored.

"Curtains," she'd said to me. "That can be your safe word."

I'd echoed it back to her, trying it out. "Yeah. Okay," I'd said, my heart aflutter.

She went on: "If you use it, then whatever we're doing, I'll stop and check in with you, straight away. Okay?"

"Yes," I'd said, kissing her shoulder. "Thank you."

"Good," she'd said. "Now that's settled, I can experiment more with you. Try things out, and really have some fun, safe in the knowledge that you have your safe word. How does that sound?"

"Oh god," I'd groaned. "It sounds amazing."

"It does doesn't it," she'd replied, and I could hear that she was smiling. She wriggled her bottom back against my erection. "Night night servant boy."

Remembering that beautiful moment as I went up the steps to the patio, dripping wet and naked, I smiled to myself and gave a long happy sigh. So many exciting things to come when I finally got to move in with her. My heart was full of love, and desire. It was a feeling of pure contentment.

However... what happened soon after made my state of relaxation dissipate quickly.

~~~

I still don't know when she came into the house. Perhaps it was while I was swimming. Or perhaps it was while I was back in Steph's room...

I had taken the dresses and the empty basket back upstairs, and put things away, taking the opportunity to tidy her whole room up a little. Steph wasn't the neatest person.

And that bedside table drawer had kept catching my eye.

I don't know what exactly I wanted to do - I just felt drawn to it, and as I pottered about the room straightening the bedsheets, and organising her shoes, I gradually began to convince myself that there was no way there would be a camera in Steph's room. Miss Bradshaw would respect Steph's privacy - of course she would. I felt more and more certain that I was currently safely hidden from her new security system.

I told myself at first that I was simply opening the drawer to see if it needed tidying. But it was a lie.

There was the pink dildo that had been up inside Steph's beautiful pussy. And behind it was another thing I recognised. The purple strap on which she had fucked me with at the kitchen sink last night! I stood there gazing at it, transfixed as I recalled the way she'd driven it into me, making me take the whole length of it, over and over.

My cock was straining against the metal bars so powerfully now that I whimpered with arousal and discomfort in equal measure.

At just that moment, my phone pinged. I'd actually left it lying there on her bed the whole time I'd been downstairs, and I saw now that there were two messages. Both from Steph.

The first was from about twenty minutes ago, probably as I'd just been getting out of the pool.

Servant Boy - I want a picture of your cock filling your cage. You have fifteen minutes.

"Fuck," I breathed, my heart skipping a beat. I hurriedly opened the next message.

You are late!! I want my picture NOW and your cock had better be fit to burst out of its cage!!!!

Luck was on my side in that respect, because I was unbelievably turned on by her message. My heart pounding, I dashed to the window to get the best light, and took a series of photos of my raging cock.

I chose the one I thought she'd like best - one that included my stomach muscles - and quickly sent it to her.

Her response came back only a few moments later.

Mmmm that is super hot. To make up for being late I want a different picture every hour on the hour for the rest of the day. And you'd better not be even a second late!!

I glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes past ten. Fifty minutes.

I quickly replied:

I promise I won't be late again.

And then I followed it up with a question:

How do you mean different?

I waited for a few minutes, but there was no reply. Perhaps she was busy now. Was she messaging me in the middle of her meeting? I had a moment's anxiety that someone near her would spot the picture on her phone.

I went back to her bedside drawer and eyed the dildos. The tube of lubricant was lying there next to the purple dildo. Oh it looked so alluring. Could I....? No. It was a stupid idea. And it wouldn't be as fun as Steph doing it to me.

But... it would feel so satisfying to have it filling me again. To remember her fucking me with it.

No, no... I had lots of work to do down in the dell. I needed to crack on with that.

But then again... it wouldn't take long.

I pulled the weighty dildo out of the drawer, smoothing my hand up and down it wistfully. My own trapped cock was so uncomfortably constrained, and it throbbed as I gently wanked Steph's toy with its realistic contours, and its balls, and - I realised suddenly - under the base of it, a sucker. It obviously served two purposes this sucker - it fitted into her harness, but it was clearly also designed to stick to a wall or a floor.

The thought was too tempting.

I grabbed the lube and went into Steph's en suite, immediately getting down onto all fours in her walk-in shower, and looking round to see where on the smooth tiled wall I should attach the dildo.

I was consumed with sexual frustration, and without any possibility of giving myself relief in the way I normally would, I suppose I was desperate for some kind of outlet.

I licked the sucker and stuck the dildo to the beige tile, where it stayed, swaying slightly.

With shaky hands, I opened the lube and squirted some onto my hand. I had no idea how much I needed, so I coated the dildo liberally with it.

As I traced my fingers up and down its length, and around its ridge, it was hard not to imagine Steph doing it to my cock, and I let out a shuddering sigh. Much as Steph keeping me caged turned me on, I would have done anything in that moment to be able to remove it.

Unable to believe I was doing this to myself, I once again got onto all fours and, reaching round with my lube-covered fingers, I rubbed the thick gel around my anus, moaning quietly. I pushed my middle finger up inside myself. Oh it felt good. I imagined Steph was doing it to me, as I moved it in and out, twisting it from side to side.

Wanting to stretch things a bit to make it easier for the large bell end to enter me, I slid my forefinger in as well, grunting with pleasure.

I no longer cared about my list of jobs. I was lost in the moment. "That's right servant boy," I whispered to myself, pretending it was Steph. "That's right. You're going to be fucked with my huge dildo. I'm going to make you take all of it."

Slipping my fingers out, I backed myself up to the dildo, my heart fluttering with anticipation of what it would feel like when I made contact with it.

It took a few goes to get things lined up, but when I did I gasped at how nice it felt to have that cold gel against my most intimate place.

I pushed back against it.

The pressure was uncomfortable at first, but then it began to nudge my anus open, stretching it more and more until I was gritting my teeth and wondering if I needed more lube.

But then, with one more push, the bell end slipped into me with a flash of pain, and I made a squeak.

After that, it was wonderful. I gradually pushed my bottom back against it, grunting and groaning with pleasure as it slid deeper inside me.

"Oh GOD," I exclaimed. "Oh GOD"

It was so thrillingly big, and I longed to be at the kitchen sink again, one leg up on the worktop, while Steph fucked me with it.

I found myself longing for something bigger. I needed to be fucked by her, well and truly.

I had taken the whole phallus inside me, and I wriggled my body on it blissfully, my eyes closed, breathing hard.

My cock pressed painfully against the unforgiving metal.

It wasn't as good as being fucked by Steph, but it had made me feel deliciously submissive.

I slid myself slowly off the dildo, wanting to plunge it back inside myself, but I was only half way through withdrawing from it when I received a shock that made my heart stop.

"¡Ay, madre mía!" the woman's voice exclaimed.

I felt the blood drain from me as I jerked my head up and gasped. I hadn't heard her approaching - she had simply appeared in the doorway.

She was middle aged, olive skinned, with lustrous black hair. She could have been attractive but she obviously wasn't someone who cared much about presenting herself that way. Somehow her uniform consisting of a baggy light blue polo shirt, and navy blue apron, made her more maternal than fanciable.

She looked cross.

"What you doing??" the woman demanded.

It was, of course, excruciatingly obvious what I was doing. I knew she would be able to see the dildo attached to the wall. I felt my face redden.

"Oh god I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I blurted. "I didn't know you were here!"

She was holding a red bucket containing cleaning products, a green cloth in her other hand, which she now put on her hip as she regarded me, tight lipped.

"I know you are here," she retorted, "When I see your muddy feet in the hallway and on the stairs."

"Oh!" I exclaimed. I'd had no idea that I was leaving dirty footprints.

"Oh!" she echoed. "Sí. Oh!" she repeated, mocking me. "You is walking mud in the house for me to clean! And now..."

She let her eyes travel along my naked body, to where the purple dildo entered me. I blushed in shame.

"Now..." she continued, but then she simply shook her head, as if words failed her.

An awful silence descended, during which I found myself paralysed in position, on my hands and knees, the silicon cock halfway up my arse.

I didn't know if it was better to stay where I was, or to withdraw from the dildo.

In the end, she made the decision for me. "Ay, chico malo" she said finally. "You come here."

She jerked her head angrily to beckon me.

I hesitated, looking up at her forlornly. "No, please," I said. "Please can you just close the door and let me -" But she didn't let me finish.

"You come here - ¡ahora mismo!" she said sternly.

I heard my phone ping on the bed behind her. Probably Steph. Oh what would she say if she knew what was happening here? Would she be cross with me?

Miserably, I eased myself off the dildo.

The intensely sexual sensation of the huge toy sliding inside me made me feel so vulnerable and humiliated under the angry gaze of this cleaning lady.

As the bell end finally eased out of me, leaving me empty, I turned and looked anxiously to see if it was dirty, but to my relief it simply glistened with lube.

I looked up at her, reluctant to stand up for several reasons - not least the fact that I didn't think she had yet seen my cage.

Blushing crimson, I got to my feet, my hands hovering in front of my thighs as I fought the urge to cover myself.

When I dared to look up at her face, she was looking directly at my crotch, but she seemed completely unsurprised by my chastity device.

"You... Come... Here..." she said, looking up into my eyes with barely contained impatience.

I felt like a naughty school boy as I walked towards her. There was lube between my buttocks, making them slide against each other in a way that made me very self conscious.

And then suddenly she was putting down her cleaning things and taking off one of her flat shoes. It took me a second to understand her intent, but it became immediately obvious as she reached round behind me and whacked my bottom with the hard sole of her shoe.

I cried out in surprise and pain, but she was already smacking me with it again, and then again. A volley of harsh slaps as she scolded me. Her words were a stream of Spanish that I couldn't understand, but it was clear she was very cross with me.

As she continued to smack me with the shoe, I was bucking my hips forward in a futile attempt to escape the blows. The padlock rattled against the metal bars of my cage.

And then she took hold of my collar and pulled me after her as she strode into the bedroom. She was surprisingly strong.

She pulled the chair out from under Steph's dressing table, and neatly rotated it with one hand, promptly sitting herself down without letting go of my collar. Forced to bend over, I now found myself being pulled over her lap.

Oh it was so humiliating - I was a grown man, being treated like a child. But of course I had given up my right to be treated like a man - my penis was kept small inside its little prison. I was wearing a collar, like a pet. And she had caught me taking a huge dildo up my arse.

I had no dignity at all. I was simply a naughty servant boy, and I realised that I completely deserved to be spanked by her.

But as I lay over her legs with my bottom in the air, there was one more ignominy to come before she spanked me.

"Abre," she ordered. And with a sharp rap of her hand back and forth between my thighs, she indicated that I should spread my legs.

Then I felt a soft cloth between my legs. She wiped my bottom clean of the lubricant - once, twice. A third time.

I was blushing profoundly, my mortification complete.

And then my spanking began.

I thought she'd been hitting me hard before, but the pounding she now gave my bottom with her shoe was something else entirely.

"You need un buen azote. A spanking," she told me between slaps.

I put my hand behind me to protect myself from the unbelievable stinging that the hard plastic sole was causing, but she simply spanked my hand. With a yelp, I quickly removed it, and she continued to punish me, raining the smacks over my entire bottom, and the backs of my thighs, until I was wriggling and writhing desperately, and crying out.

My cage was trapped against her thigh, my balls pushed back between my legs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I kept repeating, but she just mimicked me: "Oh, 'am sorry - am sorry'. You no sorry - you bad boy. I teach you."

The intimacy of being over her lap - the warmth of her body through her trousers - made me feel all the more naked somehow. I could feel her soft stomach against my hip. She smelled warm and comforting - which only served to emphasise the feeling that I was being punished for being naughty.

Once my bottom and the backs of my legs were stinging terribly, she then began to spank the insides of my thighs. This was a completely new sensation for me - a sharper more intense sensation, combined with panic as she was scarily close to my balls. Indeed, only a few smacks later she caught one of them, making me cry out urgently, and try to close my legs, but her strong hand gripped my thigh and pulled them apart again.

She now began to swat my balls quite deliberately from underneath - not hard, but enough to make me whimper and plead with her, flinching and jerking on her lap as the most sensitive part of me was made to endure slaps from her unforgiving hard plastic sole.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, my spanking was over.

"You stand," she told me.

Breathing hard, I slid off her lap, lowering myself to a kneeling position, and then stood up, looking down at her to read her expression.

To my surprise she was smiling. She was looking directly at my cock which was only a foot or so away from her face.

"The lady is crazy," she remarked, shaking her head, "Telling you wear this."

I said nothing, but her focused interest in that part of me caused my cock to throb even harder inside the cage.

"If you was mine I no make you wear this. You nice and big to look at, sí?"

I had no idea what to say, and she chuckled at my embarrassment.

A moment passed with just the sound of my shaky breathing, and the distant tick of the grandfather clock, as she simply looked at my cock nearly bursting out from its little prison.

Oh I felt so deliciously submissive. My cock ached. My bottom was stinging intensely from being spanked by this woman I didn't know. What did it say about me that she didn't hesitate to throw me over her lap?

"A ver," she said at last. "Now you clean bathroom." She wafted her hand disdainfully towards the en suite to indicate that she was not going to go near the dildo. "Then you clean hallway floor and stairs. Okay?"

"Yes," I said at once.

"You call me Doña María," she said sharply.

"Yes, Doña María," I hastily replied.

"Bueno, you go now. If you do bad job I hit your balls hard - you understand?" She held up her shoe.

A cold stab of fear spread through me.

"Yes, Doña María."

~~~

Back in the bathroom, with the cleaning things she had left for me, I waited until I heard her leave the bedroom and quickly crept back through to check my phone.

There was the message from Steph I'd heard arrive.

I mean I want to see you in different places and positions that will please me. All with your caged cock throbbing hard for me obviously.

"Oh god," I gasped under my breath, insanely aroused.

I had just over half an hour until I was due to send my first hourly photo, but I knew I needed to tell her what had happened. My sore bottom would be obvious.

I stood there for quite some time composing my message, trying to work out how to admit that I'd been through her drawer, and that I'd been fucking myself with the dildo when María had found me.

I strongly considered telling a lie, but I felt that I needed to be honest with her.

I took a moment to summon up the courage to hit send, and once I had, I felt incredibly nervous. What would she say? What would she think of me?

I took my phone with me into the bathroom to get started on the cleaning, but a reply arrived almost immediately.

She spanked you? Oh that is brilliant!!!! You were due a punishment.

There were several laughing emojis with her message.

Let me see your bottom.

Again, I went over to the bedroom window for the natural daylight and took several photos.

Oh the sight of my sore bottom turned me on. I suppose it makes me big headed to say this, but I have a very nice arse, and seeing it reddened from a spanking turned me on so much.

As it turned out, it had the same effect on Steph.

Oh that has made me wet she replied.

I groaned at the thought of her wet pussy under her short dress, with no knickers on. I'd have given anything to be with her in that moment.

Then her next message arrived.

Is the dildo still attached to the wall?

My stomach flipped.

Yes

I walked back through to the en suite and looked at it, protruding from the tiled wall obscenely, still coated with lube.

I could hear a vacuum cleaner switch on downstairs.

Good. Then you can recreate for me what Maria saw. I'm going into my meeting now, so I'll look forward to seeing it!

And then, just as I was about to reply, I received another message:

You are NOT allowed to come

~~~

As I got back down onto all fours in the shower, I felt a mixture of emotions. A nagging panic that I was running out of time to do the work in the garden. Nervousness that María would come upstairs again and find that not only had I not cleaned the bathroom, but that I was once again fucking myself with the dildo.

But over and above both of these, I felt unbelievably aroused. I was being torn between the conflicting demands of three mistresses now. But of the three, only Steph knew about the others - and instead of making life easier for me, she was telling me to pose for photos for her. She was telling me to pose with my cock uncomfortably big inside its cage, and to slide a huge dildo up my arse purely for a photo for her to enjoy.

I pressed my bottom back against the bulbous end of the dong, letting it intrude between my stinging cheeks. I groaned as it once again pushed me open, stretching my anus wider to accommodate its formidable girth.

Luckily my earlier fucking meant that its entry was less painful, and before I knew it, its bell end had entered me and was easing up into me, deeper and deeper.

I could still hear the vacuum cleaner, more distant now, moving into the lounge perhaps.

Moaning softly, I reached for my phone, which necessitated sliding back off the dildo a little, before pushing myself back onto it, deeper than before.

I then spent several minutes trying to hold the phone far enough away from myself to capture the scene - making sure she could see the dildo behind me, half inside me.

I quickly reviewed the photos, choosing one that I thought would please her the most. I was struck by my pleading expression - so that's what I looked like when she fucked me with the dildo!

I sent it to her and put my phone face down on the tiled floor.

I now faced a dilemma. I really needed to stop, clear up, and clean the bathroom. But... Oh it felt so good. I would just push myself back onto the dildo until it filled me up one more time. Then I'd stop.

Then, to my surprise, my phone pinged. Surely she was in her meeting??

I picked it up, and read the message.

Oh good boy. I love that photo SO much!!!! Keep fucking yourself like that until Maria comes back and finds you.

My heart skipped a beat.

No, please! I can't do that!! I replied, typing as fast as I could with one hand.

Then I added:

She said she would spank my balls again - hard

I still fantastise about her reply.

That sounds like a 'you' problem accompanied by emojis which included a heart, and a face crying with laughter.

~~~

There are no words to describe the state I was in by the time I heard the vacuum cleaner stop and María coming up the stairs.

I'd been fucking myself with the dildo for at least ten minutes, and had had to ease off three times when the insistent throbbing of my prostate had very nearly pushed me over the edge into an orgasm.

But oh god I was so desperate to come, unable to stop myself moaning. I was breathing hard, my mouth open, my face nearly touching the floor as I thrust myself backwards onto the dildo over and over, my elbows hurting from taking my weight on the hard tiles, but no longer caring. The sensation of being fucked by the huge silicon cock was all I could focus on.

I was lost in a euphoria of submissive desire. I was barely in control of myself.

And when I heard María enter the bedroom I was overcome with a delicious and heady mixture of dread and arousal. I found now that I wanted her to find me. I wanted her to punish me.

I got my wish.

Oh she looked furious. This time there was no exclamation. No words at all in fact. There were a couple of seconds where she was stock still in the doorway, taking in the fact that I had completely disregarded her instructions, her frown deepening. And then she was marching up to me, and spanking my bottom with her bare hand, even though the dildo was half-buried inside me. Several times on my right buttock - she smacked me with a force that took my breath away, and made it sting with a ferocious and intolerable intensity. I had the side of my face against the floor, crying out in shock.

And then she must have detached the dildo from the wall because she was thrusting it hard inside me, burying it in me, and I gasped. With her fingers, she was pushing it deeper than I'd been able to manage with my bottom pressed against the wall, and it was right on the edge of being painful.

Holding it there, she resumed her savage spanking with her other hand, punishing my left buttock now.

To be spanked like this on my already sore bottom was very harsh indeed. And Steph's cruelty in making me provoke it turned me on passionately.

"Please!" I gasped, thinking that I couldn't bear this for much longer. "Doña María please!"

And to my amazement, she stopped.

"You no move!" she instructed me, and she turned and left the room.

I was left there for a moment breathing hard against the floor of the shower, my bottom in the air. I heard the opening and closing of drawers in the bedroom.

The dildo was slowly sliding out of me.

And then María was back, holding something in her hand that I couldn't see. Was it a pair of bright purple knickers?

"Stand up," she ordered, and her fingers pushed the dildo deep into me again, making me gasp and wince.

As I clambered to my feet, she kept pushing it into me, so that by the time I was standing upright, she was very close to me, her fingers between my buttocks holding the dildo in, her body brushing against mine.

I hadn't considered that it would be possible to be in a standing position with a dildo inside me, but I found that it was perfectly do-able. It felt strange, and erotic.

She was a foot shorter than me, but her authority over me was unquestionable.

"You like this?" she barked. And she took hold of the padlock of my cage and used it to roughly shake my cock up and down. "It... turns you on?"

I liked the way she enunciated the words - I think she was imitating an English accent, from wherever she'd learned the phrase.

I didn't know if she was referring to what I'd been doing, or what she was doing to me right now, but either way the answer was the same.

"Yes," I breathed. I knew my face was bright red. Probably nearly as red as my bottom.

She nodded grimly, her suspicions confirmed. "Chico malo," she muttered, and she slapped my cage.

"You wear this," she told me, opening her hand to reveal a pair of Steph's knickers - a bright purple lacy thong, the colour of which wasn't dissimilar to the dildo.

I gazed at it incredulously. "But..." I began, but she interrupted me.

"No, you wear this. NOW!"

I took it from her, briefly registering how surprisingly smooth the skin of her hand was, and opened them out. They were ridiculously small. The front triangle was only perhaps three inches wide.

Still she pressed the dildo into me, and I realised now with a jolt that her intention was that the knickers would keep it in place.

It was so humiliating to have this woman's hand up between my arse cheeks, but how much more humiliating would it be to wear these tiny little panties?

But as I stepped into them awkwardly and pulled them up, I had a moment where I understood why Steph wore such skimpy underwear. They felt so sexy. They were so small, and insubstantial. The sensation of the flimsy material brushing up my legs... the cognitive dissonance of pulling on clothing and yet them covering so little...

I tried to work out how best to position them, since of course they weren't designed for a man's anatomy, but I was obviously taking too long because María impatiently grabbed the front triangle and yanked it up and over my cage, then doing the same at the back, the inch-wide thong pulled hard between my buttocks, taking over from her fingers in their role of keeping the dildo inside me.

It was uncomfortable to say the least.

The see-through lacy purple triangle covered the cage - more or less - but it was painfully tight. I fumbled between my legs to ease things, but she smacked my sore bottom - left bare by the tiny knickers.

"Now you clean bathroom with this inside you!!" she ordered. "We see if you like that!!"

~~~

I spent the next quarter of an hour or so cleaning Steph's en-suite under the watchful eye of María.

She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, occasionally barking an order at me, as, wearing only a pair of yellow rubber gloves and the embarrassing panties, I scrubbed the shower, the sink, and the toilet, until everything shone.

All the while, the enormous dildo was inside me, shifting fractionally as I worked, stimulating my prostate in a way that made me moan softly as I worked, and made my cock insistently try to grow to its full size, packed tight against the bars. This, in turn, made me even more turned on.

It was a vicious circle.

The cage, I reflected, was something I hated wearing and yet the fact that Steph had made me wear it, and the pleasure and amusement she took my predicament, meant that the more uncomfortable it got, the more desperately aroused I became.

Combined with the dildo, it was almost more than I could bear. Having that still inside me meant that I had to avoid certain positions because they made me flinch as the head pressed uncomfortably deep. I imagined Steph's delight if she could have been witnessing this now.

When I was done, María came in and inspected everything closely. "I spank your balls if no good," she warned me.

To my relief, she found no fault with my work, and I looked forward to finally taking the dildo out of me.

But she said: "Now you do floor," and she pointed down at the tiles beneath our feet.

I groaned inwardly. "Where is the mop please?" I asked, quickly following it up with "Doña María".

"You no need mop," she told me, and she batted her fingers against the cloth I was holding to indicate that I was to use that instead.

"Clean," she instructed, pointing down at the floor.

Forlornly, I picked up the cleaning spray, got down onto my hands and knees in front of her - the worst position in terms of the dildo - and set to work.

I was increasingly aware of the time. How long did I have before I needed to send Steph my hourly photo?

I worked hard, trying not to ever have my bottom facing María as I did this humiliating task, but it was unavoidable at points, and when I looked back she was looking directly at my arse and smiling.

It must have been quite a sight with the dildo visible between my buttocks, and the thong holding it in place.

When I next looked up at her, I saw she was holding a feather duster, running it round the door frame.

She stepped towards me, a little smile still present at the corners of her mouth, and leaning over me she used the feather duster to whack me between my legs, against my balls.

The impact wasn't that bad because of the feathers, but she compensated for that by using extra force, striking them three times and making me gasp loudly.

I stared up at her, gaping, breathing hard. But she gave a little mischievous snigger.

She took hold of the feathered end instead, and I thought for a dreadful moment that she was going to use the hard plastic handle to hit my balls, but in fact she used it to tap the base of the dildo. She did it several times in quick succession - only lightly, but I felt those taps right up inside me.

"When you finished, you take this out," she told me, "And you wash Señorita's panties."

"Okay," I breathed. "I mean, yes Doña María."

She made a little 'humph' sound at my self correction.

"Then you come down and clean hallway and stairs. ¿De acuerdo"

"Yes Doña María," I replied meekly.

She turned and left, and I kept cleaning the floor, but the moment I was sure she was out of earshot, going downstairs, I got up and rushed into the bedroom as fast as I could with the dildo inside me, to check my phone. With a rush of relief I saw that it was 10:56.

Oh Steph would enjoy how I currently looked, I thought.

Back in the bathroom, I propped my phone up on a little shelf, set the camera timer, and posed for her in my rubber gloves and her little purple panties stretched over my cage.

Then I took one of me bending over the sink so that she could see my punished bottom, and the fact that the dildo was still inside me.

I was pleased with my photos as I quickly reviewed them. I actually found the sight of my manly toned body in the tiny knickers very erotic, and I hoped Steph would feel the same.

I sent both photos at 11:00 exactly, and then rushed back into the bathroom to finish my work, feeling excited.

Job done, I stood by the bed and peeled the knickers off, continually glancing at my phone to see if she had replied. Then bending over, I pulled the dildo slowly out of me, letting out involuntary grunts as it travelled out of my bottom, its large bell end pressing against my prostate as it went.

At last, my sphincter complaining briefly, it was out.

Much as I had loved being full of it, it was an enormous relief to now be rid of it after what felt like a long time.

Still no reply from Steph, so I dashed into the en suite, conscious of walking all over my nice clean floor, and sorted myself out.

Again, there was still nothing from Steph. But then that wasn't surprising, I thought, she'd still be in her meeting with Paul the record company guy.

In my mind's eye I once again had the image of her in her short pixie dress, as she called it, without any underwear, sitting cross legged across from him. Her beautiful long bare legs would be a constant distraction for him. And when she uncrossed and crossed her legs, Sharon Stone style, he would be momentarily transfixed. Would he get a glimpse of her perfectly waxed pussy? Perhaps even the briefest flash between her labia, where it was pink and wet?

Oh god. I don't know if I was more jealous or aroused, but it was a heady thought and I knew I needed to stop thinking about it. My cock desperately needed some relief from trying to burst out of its little cage.

I opened Steph's bedside table drawer and placed the lube, and the dildo - washed and dried - back where they'd come from.

Then, with the purple thong scrunched up in my hand, I hurried downstairs hoping that María wouldn't be cross that I'd taken so long.

~~~

It was about half an hour later that I finally got started working down in the dell.

Thankfully, María had allowed me a mop with which to clean the hallway floor, and the slight muddy marks on the stair carpet had been easy to remove with a brush now that they had dried.

And so she had grudgingly allowed me to go. "Be good boy," she had warned me as I went out of the kitchen where she was scrubbing the cupboard doors.

And so, my bottom still stinging from the two spankings she'd given me, I now stood surveying the densely overgrown scene before me, hedge cutters in one hand, my phone in the other.

The sun was warm on my skin, and I took a moment to close my eyes and enjoy it. I was wearing wellies now, but nothing else of course. Who knew where my clothes were stashed in the house since they'd last been taken from me.

I ran my fingers down my chest and stomach, and either side of my cock ring, gently touching my balls and testing how sensitive they were after being hit.

I let out a long sigh to relax myself, as I moved my hands round to my bottom and softly touched myself there, enjoying the stinging that still lingered.

Opening my eyes, I looked down at my crotch, the silver cage glinting in the sunlight. My usually large cock was trapped inside it, forced to be kept small, and I traced my fingertips over it, touching it with my fingernails between the bars. I could just access my frenulum, and it felt beautiful as I softly fingered it, but as my cock tried to stiffen it caused the tip of me to be forced hard against the end of the cage, and so with a whimper of frustration, I stopped.

There were red marks round my hips left by the tiny panties, which were designed for Steph's body, not mine. I loved how it looked, for reasons I couldn't explain.

Now was the moment to photograph myself, I thought, even though I wasn't due to send her a picture for twenty five minutes yet. I opened my phone and saw to my disappointment that there was still no response from my last message.

~~~

Five minutes later, having taken some photographs of my body with the late summer sun hitting me from the side enhancing my muscles, the lines from her panties visible, and my poor cock held at bay by the metal bars, I put down my phone, pulled on my workgloves, and finally set to work.

It turns out that with a time pressure, you can achieve quite a lot in twenty minutes.

There was a huge mountain of hawthorn, ivy and brambles on my tarpaulin as I dragged it out of the dell and admired my progress, swigging from my water bottle.

My phone pinged.

It was 11:59, and I opened her message eagerly.

Oh that is my favourite picture of you ever. You look so cute in my knickers. And I see Maria wanted to keep that dildo inside you while you cleaned. Love it!!!!

Then a second message appeared:

Are you still wearing them?

I replied that I wasn't, and that I was now in the garden working on the dell.

Shame

I smiled. It felt exciting to think that maybe she would make me wear her tiny panties again sometime.

Do you want your 12:00 picture? I asked.

Of course. I want to see how your cock is. Uncomfortably hard inside its cage I hope.

Alas, she was correct. Although things had calmed down while I was working, messaging with her had brought things back to maximum discomfort.

I sent her the photo I'd taken a short while ago.

Oh that is a beautiful sight. I wish I was there, licking your caged cock

I groaned as I read that, imagining her full sexual lips right there, the salve of her soft wet tongue exploring my bare cock through the gaps.

Would you like that? she asked.

Oh god yes. But it would make things very difficult for me.

Her reply was typical of her mischievous cruelty, and it made me throb all the harder:

Perfect she wrote, followed by several laughing emojis.

Then she added:

Show me your bottom

I did as I was told, and sent her a nice shot of my arse. I loved this. I loved sending her photos for her to admire, that would either amuse her or turn her on.

But her reply stopped me in my tracks, and made my blood run cold.

Oh that is not nearly sore enough. I have seen it much sorer than that. I want you to persuade Maria to use a bamboo cane on you. I don't care how you do it, but I want you to provoke her into caning you before your next photo is due. Understand?

"Oh fuck," I breathed.

~~~

A short while later I was loitering uncertainly on the patio, holding a four foot long length of bamboo, trying to work out how to achieve what Steph wanted.

I'd worked up a bit of a sweat from my work, and the breeze felt cool on my bare skin. I had butterflies in my stomach.

Her instructions turned me on so much. That she would demand that I orchestrate something as painful as a caning on my already sore bottom was so deliciously and acutely cruel. But how?

Could I go in and make more dirty footprints? Spill something?

Inside I could hear María vacuuming again. Perhaps I could do something deliberately provocative like unplug her hoover.

My mind whirled with ideas, none of them workable. It wasn't in my nature to be deliberately naughty.

I decided that there was only one way forward.

Opening the door, I walked towards the sound of the vacuum cleaner which I judged was on the landing upstairs. My heart was hammering in my chest. My cage felt achingly small.

"Doña María," I called out as I reached the top of the stairs. I saw her sturdy frame bent over as she ran the nozzle of the hoover along the dado rail.

"Doña María!" I repeated louder. "Doña María!!"

She jumped, and turned to look at me with startled eyes which rapidly turned dark with irritation.

She jabbed at the hoover's power button with the nozzle, and fixed me with an impatient look.

"I, er, sorry Doña María," I said, slightly unsteadily. "I'm sorry. I just..."

I trailed off as I saw her notice the cane I was holding. Her eyes narrowed and she surveyed me in a contemplative way.

"You want I spank you more," she said. It was a statement, not a question, but still I answered in a small voice:

"Yes. Yes please."

She gave a little chuckle and shook her head. "Chico malo," she remarked, her eyes creased into a kind smile.

But then she said:

"I no spank you. I have to work."

She looked at her watch.

"Half an hour ago I tell my supervisor I going to be late, and now she come here. She will spank you. She be here soon."

My stomach twisted into a knot.

"She will spank me?" I echoed in disbelief.

María laughed. "Sí. She tell me she going to."

I could find no words to say. I simply stared at her dumbfounded.

"You go now," she told me. "And wait ready."

She thought for a second.

"You wait out front of house," she said, gesturing with her hand to indicate that I was to be some distance from the house. "You kneel nicely."

"Yes Doña María," I breathed, shakily.

I turned to go, but she stopped me.

"Ay, you take that downstairs," she said, pointing off down the corridor, and as I peered past her I saw, right at the very end, outside Miss Bradshaw's study door, a black holdall which I hadn't noticed earlier. It was one of the ones the security woman had brought in yesterday.

"Is too heavy," María told me.

And so it was that a few moments later I deposited the bag down in the entrance hall. It was unzipped, and inside I could see, among other things, the cardboard reel which the security woman had put over my erect cock in order to unravel a length of electrical cable.

Consumed with nerves and extreme sexual arousal, I went to the front door and opened it, looking out at the expanse of gravel in front of the house. Miss Bradshaw's red sports car was parked there as usual, and next to it, a little silver hatchback which must have been María's.

The ostentatious gate, some two hundred yards ahead of me, was open. It was automatic, but María had presumably set it to stay open using the little control panel by the front door, and so I could see down Miss Bradshaw's long drive which snaked its way off through the trees.

But just before I stepped outside, out of the corner of my eye I spotted something. A piece of paper tucked into the pocket of the holdall.

Leaving the door open, and the bamboo cane propped up by the door frame, I went over to the bag.

I could hear María hoovering again, in one of the rooms upstairs.

I pulled out the piece of paper and saw at once that it was a printed statement of work.

Twenty four cameras! I gasped as I scanned the page. Sensors, alarms... a long list of materials and equipment.

But there was nothing about the location of the cameras, although the staple in the top left corner told me that there had been a second page, which there was now no sign of.

But what I saw at the bottom made me catch my breath.

Customer: Yousef Al-Qahtani

I stared at it for a moment, trying to absorb the significance of this. Yousef was the customer? Yousef had ordered the cameras to be installed??

The cameras.

I glanced around furtively. Was I being watched right now?

I hurriedly stuffed the paper back into the pocket, went back to the front door, picked up the cane, and stepped out into the sun.

My mind racing, I found myself padding down the steps and walking delicately across the gravel in my bare feet, further from the front of the house than I had ever been while naked.

I chose a spot a few feet away from the front steps, and gingerly knelt down. The stones under my knees were a little painful, and I had to clear some of the sharper ones to the side. I lay the length of bamboo down in front of me.

With the gate open, I felt so vulnerable and exposed. What if a delivery driver turned up? How unbelievably humiliating it would be for him to find me kneeling here humble and naked. My collar and cage were unmistakable symbols of my subservient status. Of my sexual submission.

I blushed profoundly at the thought.

Was Miss Bradshaw watching me right now through one of the cameras? Or Yousef...?

Several minutes went by. The breeze was stronger out front, and when the sun went behind a cloud it raised goosebumps on my skin.

My knees ached. My thighs ached, and so eventually I sat back on my heels to let my muscles relax.

But seconds later, I started as I heard a sound behind me. Jerking my head round I saw María carrying her hoover down the front steps.

As she approached she barked: "No! You kneel up!"

I quickly did as I was told, kneeling upright and apologising.

As she passed, she used her free hand to smack my bottom hard, nearly making me overbalance forward.

"You naughty boy," she scolded.

I watched as she put the hoover into the boot of her car, and came back with a grey plastic bucket full of spray bottles and cloths.

She came to a stop in front of me, and I looked up at her wondering what she might say or do next.

"Is better if Mrs MacKay see your culo," she told me, and she twirled her finger to demonstrate that I should turn around.

For some reason, this felt even more embarrassing. She wanted the first thing her supervisor saw as she drove up the house to be my punished bottom?

Wincing, I shuffled on my knees in a little circle so that I was facing the house.

"Bueno," she said from behind me, and then I felt her lay the length of bamboo across my calves.

"On your hands," she now instructed.

I let out a little gasp, and turned my face to plead with her, but she told me off. "You face that way!"

I received a brisk slap, low down on my bottom, and making a little involuntary cry, I did as I was told.

The stones were less painful on my hands than my knees, but actually the physical discomfort was nothing compared to the psychological effect of being made to wait in this humiliating position for a strange woman to come and cane me - without even being able to see her approach.

"Good," María said approvingly. "You stay."

And with that, she walked past me, up the steps, and into the house, pulling the door to behind her.

~~~

When I eventually heard the sound of the car engine, it brought a wave of panic which rose up so hard that it seemed to compress my lungs.

I pursed my lips, breathing long and steady, trying to calm myself as the sound grew louder.

I gave myself a pep talk. This would be Mrs MacKay, and she was going to use the cane on me. But then it would be over, and Steph would be very pleased.

And this was not the first time that a stranger had punished me. It wasn't even the first time today.

"I'm okay," I whispered to myself. "I'm okay."

I didn't look round, even as the car reached the gate and I heard its tyres scrunching against the stones as it parked up by the others.

I remained there on all fours, looking down, breathing as calmly as I could, as I heard the car door open, shoes on gravel, the car door slam, and footsteps coming towards me.

A lady's voice tittered with delighted laughter.

"Oh I love it!" she exclaimed in a confident fluting voice. She was well spoken, but I detected a vestige of East London in her accent.

She came to a stop behind me. My heart was pounding. My bottom tingled from her gaze.

A leopard print handbag was dropped on the ground next to me.

"You are all ready for me you naughty boy," she giggled. "And María really has given you a good spanking," she added admiringly.

She picked up the cane from the backs of my calves, and I heard her swish it through the air a couple of times, which set my heart racing.

I turned my head just a fraction, trying to see her out of the corner of my eye.

She was tall. Hourglass figure. Black pencil skirt stopping below the knee. White blouse. Blonde hair. An impressive cleavage that I longed to look at properly. But I kept my submissive pose.

"What's your name?" she asked me.

My throat was hoarse as I told her.

"Well then, Tom," she said. "Do you want to tell me why you've been causing problems for my staff and delaying them doing their work?"

I was finding it unbearable not knowing at what point she might strike me with the cane.

"I didn't wipe my feet and I made the floor dirty," I said.

She tutted in an exaggerated way. It was clear that she was enjoying herself. "And what else?"

I really did not want to admit to the other things which had made María cross, especially if she didn't already know.

Suddenly I heard the sound of the cane whipping through the air, and my whole body jolted in panic.

But no strike came.

Mrs McKay chortled. "I thought that might wake you up a bit. Answer the question Tom, or I'll start getting angry. And you won't like me angry. You're not the first naked horny young man I've had to deal with here."

I blushed at her description of me.

"I was... María found me..."

It was no good. I couldn't find any words that weren't intolerably shameful.

"She told me that you had a dildo up your sexy little bottom," she said. "Is that right?"

"Yes," I replied, mortified.

"And I hear that you didn't clean things up when you were told? Is that right too?"

"Yes," I said forlornly, to the unseen lady behind me.

"I can see why you've cost her so much time. That means she's going to be late for her next job and I'll have an unhappy client on the phone."

She placed the tip of the cane between my shoulder blades and began to drag it slowly down my back.

"Does that sound okay to you?" she asked. "Cageboy?"

I hadn't been sure if she'd noticed that I was in chastity, but clearly she had - and this new nickname gave me a stab of humiliation that made my cock swell up urgently against the bars.

"No," I admitted, hanging my head. I looked at my little metal cage hanging there, my manhood trapped inside it, and I couldn't decide whether I was more glad of the protection it gave me, or more embarrassed by it.

But then I thought of Steph.

You were born for this she would tell me. You're a natural submissive

She would be so delighted by this scene, I thought.

The tip of the cane had reached my lower back, but it didn't stop there.

Mrs MacKay dragged it down between my buttocks, and I blushed. I hadn't really thought about the fact that my anus was exposed to her.

And it was on that specific spot that it stopped.

"So in that case," she went on. "How should you be punished?"

She prodded the delicate skin of my anus with the end of the bamboo.

Not waiting for a reply, she said: "María chose this cane for your punishment."

I didn't correct her, as she continued: "But she didn't say what I should use it for."

She nudged it firmly against my tight opening and my blood ran cold.

"You obviously do like having things up your arse, so perhaps we should see if you like this up there?"

"No," I breathed. "Please."

The cruelty of it - the confidence with which this woman casually toyed with my vulnerability - was powerfully erotic for me. And yet... I was genuinely scared by what she was threatening to do.

She laughed - a high, musical trill.

"It's okay cageboy," she said, "I'm just going to cane your bottom till you're begging me to stop."

She prodded at my anus one last time before taking it away, laughing her head off.

And as I tried to process my emotional cocktail of relief, fear, and arousal, I suddenly heard the alarming swish of the cane, and a stripe of pain erupted across the lower part of my bottom.

I howled, looking round at her as best I could.

She was covering her mouth and laughing with surprise and delight at what she'd done.

"Oh wow. I didn't even hit you that hard!" she exclaimed. "Ooh I'm going to enjoy this."

She made eye contact with me and winked.

"Head down handsome," she instructed.

I did as I was told, looking down at the gravel and hoping that she'd wait until the burning pain subsided before she caned me again.

She didn't.

SWIIIISH CRACK!!!

"Aaaaaaaargh," I cried out as the cane delivered a cruel blow across the middle of my bare bottom.

The spanking that María had given me an hour or so ago was nothing compared to this.

I was scared that I wasn't going to be able to endure this punishment. And yet... why did I still want it so badly?

She was running the cane up and down my bottom and the backs of my thighs, in a way that was perhaps intended to be soothing.

I liked how it felt and I sighed softly, allowing myself to release some of the tension inside me.

But as soon as the cane was withdrawn my heart began to pound in my chest again.

THWACK!!!

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I wailed, hissing air back between my teeth as the afterburn set in.

THWACK!!!

"Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh," I was wailing plaintively, trying to ride out the intolerable sting and deep burning.

And then...

SWIIIIIISH CRACK!!!!!!!

It was by far the hardest yet. Low down, right where my bottom met the backs of my thighs, the vicious cane delivered a stripe of pain unlike anything I'd ever known.

I let out an inarticulate howl, my body bucking away from her.

I remained leaning forward, my body rigid and straight - or actually even arched away from her - paralysed as I endured the terrific afterburn.

She was giggling. "You look like you're humping the ground! You really are horny aren't you cageboy!"

She gave me a moment and then said strictly: "Okay back in position."

Reluctantly, I obeyed, but she was exacting. "No - present your bottom to me. Up in the air, ready for the rest of your punishment."

I groaned, pushing my arse up towards her, wondering if I could actually take much more.

And then I felt her fingers on my bottom, and I flinched at the unexpected sensation.

She ran her fingertips over the welts on my left buttock - softly. Sensually.

My breathing was shaky. It felt beautiful, despite the raging pain.

"I bet your bottom really stings now," she remarked in a low husky voice that raised goosebumps.

"It does," I replied, feeling aroused in a different way now. A way that felt like a betrayal of Steph.

Her fingers strayed low down now, to the worst welt of all. She grazed it with her fingernails and I whimpered.

I heard her chuckle through her nose.

And then she was caressing the back of my thigh, her fingertips moving softly up between my legs.

I gasped as she touched my balls.

"These are lovely and smooth," she murmured.

She shifted on the gravel to stand closer, and her bare calf touched the side of my thigh.

She was exploring the shape of my balls very gently and I was groaning in pleasure. And then suddenly I felt a fingernail slide into the gap underneath the end of my cage, touching my frenulum.

"Oh!" I gasped, and my pulse quickened.

She was moving her nail back and forth right on my most sensitive spot, and it felt indescribably wonderful.

My cock was rammed against the confines of its little prison.

The sun went behind a cloud, and a cold breeze licked at my bare skin, but there was a fire inside my loins.

Then Mrs MacKay said what I was thinking:

"It's a shame I can't unlock you for a bit of fun," she breathed close to my ear.

The pad of her finger made contact with my bare penis, and moving her hand further between my legs, she now took hold of my caged cock in her fingers, softly caressing each little exposed bit of my cock.

She dabbed at the end of the cage.

"Oh dear," she teased. "You're leaking a bit here cageboy. You must be feeling very frustrated."

I said nothing to this, except letting out a wheedling groan of desire.

Oh I would have given anything to be free of my cage in that moment.

"I would happily wank you for a while," she half-whispered in my ear, beginning to tug my cage back and forth, "Maybe even make you come right here on the driveway."

I was whimpering now.

"But," she went on, her tone changing to mock sympathy, "Instead you have to stay locked up in your tiny cage, while I finish punishing you."

She pulled her hand away roughly and wiped my precome off her finger onto my bottom, low down on the fleshiest part.

She moved away, leaving me panting, my hips moving urgently forwards and backwards in pathetic little thrusts, chasing any stimulation I could.

"Oh god," I breathed, unable to believe how little it had taken for her to put me in this state.

She walked round in front of me for the first time, her shiny red high heels wobbling slightly on the stones, and I craned my head back to look up at her.

Oh she was gorgeous. Mid to late thirties. Big blue eyes with false lashes. A naughty smirk on her full lips.

She regarded me with her hand on her hip, still holding the cane in the other, and I couldn't resist looking at her breasts which were disproportionately large for her figure.

"Oh you are a cute one," she said. "I think you're her best yet. And in very good shape," she added with an arched eyebrow.

She ran the cane up the side of my arm, letting it travel over the swells of my triceps.

Then, still with her hand on her hip, she slowly walked down the side of me, sliding the cane under me against my chest, and running it all the way down to my stomach until it met my cock ring.

I sucked my stomach in, involuntarily.

She stopped, and dragged the bamboo up and down over my cage, again and again, giggling at the percussive sound it made, ignoring my little gasps.

"Your mistress asked for María to come today instead of Wednesday you know," she said, as she continued to drag the cane over my cage.

"Do you think she suspected you'd be up to no good left here by yourself? Where is she? Saudi Arabia again?"

"Yes," I breathed, my eyes closed.

"She's got a fancy man out there you know," she went on. "Although god knows why when she's got you here."

Taking the cane away, she walked round behind me and I braced myself for more pain.

But nothing happened for a moment, and I tried to look at her over my shoulder.

To my horror I saw that she was taking photos on her phone.

Smirking she dropped her phone back in her handbag, and raised the cane.

"Head down naughty boy."

I did as I was told, eyes closed again, trying to keep calm.

My bottom felt so vulnerable.

She tapped the cane experimentally against my bum a few times, right on one of the welts.

And then, CRACK she hit that exact spot.

I yowled in pain. The intensity of the sting was unbelievable, and I couldn't believe she had deliberately done it on exactly the same spot.

I once again arched my body away from the cruel implement, gritting my teeth and paddling with my feet.

I think I was making a sort of keening sound.

"Back in position," she told me sternly.

And the moment I was, she struck me again, on a fresh part of my bottom, hard.

"OW!!! Ow ow ow ow ow ow......"

Once again I was out of position, writhing, tensing and relaxing my bottom over and over in some futile attempt at reducing the pain.

This time she waited silently until I was once again meekly offering my bottom to her, my eyes scrunched up tight.

Without delay I heard the bamboo whistling through the air, as she hit me again - and this one was a belter - low down, also striking my perineum.

"Oh FUCK!!!!" I cried, my whole body jolting. "Oh fuck fuck fuck...."

I sat back on my heels, clenching my buttocks, grimacing in pain. "Ooh fuck that hurts!!" I wailed.

"Language!" Mrs MacKay scolded me playfully, pretending to be shocked. "What would your mistress Miss Bradshaw do if she could hear you now?"

"She would probably..." I trailed off, not wishing to finish my sentence.

"Back in position," she instructed. "She would probably what?"

I leaned forward, once again placing my hands on the gravel - once again presenting my bottom for more intolerable, and yet powerfully erotic punishment.

"She would probably punish me more."

"Yes I bet she would," she agreed enthusiastically. "Has she caned you before I assume?"

"Yes."

I heard her make a little grunt of satisfaction that sounded almost like arousal.

"How many... occasions?"

"Twice," I replied.

"Only twice?" she said with surprise. "How disappointing. I'm sure a naughty boy like you deserves to be caned at least once a week."

She squished it through the air and I flinched, making her giggle.

"I think I've given you eight strokes now," she said. "What's the most you've had from your mistress?"

"Ten," I told her without hesitation. You don't forget these things.

"Oh well then. I think this one should go up to eleven," she chuckled, putting on a more exaggerated accent. She'd obviously made some sort of joke which I didn't understand.

But I did understand that I had three more to endure. And I wasn't sure my bum could take it.

She placed the bamboo gently on the middle of my bottom and shifted it up a little. Then down a little, choosing the spot. She was resting it on another welt, and I gritted my teeth in anticipation.

The cane swished back, and then came whipping down onto my poor bottom - but thankfully missing her mark.

A fresh stripe was emblazoned on my buttocks, and I cried out urgently.

"Two more," she told me. "And these ones are really going to hurt."

Without warning CRACK the cane delivered sharp flash of pain only millimetres from the last strike, and I bucked and writhed for all I was worth.

"You really need to take your punishments like a man," she told me. "If you were my naked servant I would train you better. Now stop snivelling and get back in position."

Whimpering quietly I obeyed, my eyes closed tight, ready for the final blow.

"No, bend over more. Put your elbows on the ground," she instructed.

I felt her shoe on my bottom as she pushed me forward.

"Legs apart," she barked.

I had my cheek to the gravel as I shuffled my sore knees so as to spread my legs wider for her, blushing.

She placed the cane across the tops of the backs of my thighs, touching my balls.

"No," I begged her, lifting my head in alarm. "No please Mrs MacKay. Please. I'll do anything. Please no."

But I didn't move at all.

I heard her quiet snigger. And then I heard the swish.

~~~

A few minutes later, she was leading me by my collar in through the front door.

There was no sign or sound of María, and the statuesque Mrs MacKay opened a door I had never ventured through before in all the time I'd lived there - barely registered in fact - which turned out to lead into a beautiful library.

Bookshelves lined every wall, floor to ceiling, even above the enormous window, which was covered by thick velvety curtains, letting in only a glimmer of sunlight round the edges.

She pushed the door closed behind us, and as it clicked shut, I was aware of how silent the room was. The thick carpet, and the hundreds of books, muffled any sound except our breathing.

In the middle of the room, semi enclosed by further bookshelves, were two luxurious looking leather armchairs, each with a tall lamp next to it and little coffee tables.

I had never seen Miss Bradshaw go in here. And I had never seen the curtains open on the occasions I'd been out front.

My bottom was on fire. And so was my perineum after receiving that final blow. But I was just thankful it hadn't been my balls.

She had killed herself laughing when she finally put down the cane.

"You thought I was going to do it didn't you," she'd cackled. "Oh you men are such wimps when it comes to your balls."

She'd finally told me to stand up, and gratefully I'd got up, rubbing my knees and hands which were marbled red from the gravel.

Then I realised she had stopped laughing.

Instead she had looked my body up and down slowly, her mouth slightly agape. "Fuck," she'd said emphatically, and I had blushed at the unspoken compliment.

And now here I was with her in this dimly lit room full of books, which I'd never known existed, made intimate by its silence and darkness.

Suddenly she had me up against the shelves, pressing her body against mine.

The undone buttons of her white blouse, exposing her exquisite cleavage, were grazing my bare chest.

She was moving her hips against mine, the smooth fabric of her skirt pressed against my cage.

She began to kiss me, looking at me with a sultry smile as she ran her hands down my sides.

My hands were gripping the shelves. I had no idea what to do.

Part of me wanted to kiss her back. She was so attractive and so sexy, and I was awash with arousal and an intense submissive euphoria. I wanted her so badly.

And yet, it would be wrong.

"I have a girlfriend," I blurted.

At first she just grinned and kept kissing me with her soft sexy mouth. "So what?" she said, moving her hand between us to grab my cage.

"But... I can't do this behind her back," I insisted. "I'm sorry."

She stopped and moved her face back just enough to focus on me, frowning as she assessed me.

She didn't let go of my cage.

"How do you have a girlfriend when you live here twenty four seven?" she demanded. "I know how this deal works. You live here constantly. No clothes. No social life."

I briefly imagined my predecessors, living here just with Miss Bradshaw for months without ever leaving. Thank god for Steph.

"She... she's... well it doesn't matter. The thing is I have to be faithful to her."

Mrs McKay squeezed my balls threateningly.

"Tell me who she is. There's something going on here."

Wincing, I finally said: "It's... Miss Bradshaw's niece Stephanie."

She didn't release my balls. If anything she held them tighter.

"Her niece."

I couldn't read her expression in the dim light, but she was clearly taken aback.

"Does Miss B know about this?"

I hesitated. Then, spurred on by a hard squeeze that made me gasp, I admitted that she didn't.

Thankfully, she released my balls, but I felt nervous as a broad smile crept across her face.

"I'm guessing that if she knew, you would be out of a job young Tom. Don't you think?"

I said nothing, but she went on: "And I'm also guessing that a young man like you must need this money or else you'd never have applied for something like this in the first place."

Again I said nothing, but every muscle in my body was tensed with anxiety.

"Well," she added, correcting herself, "Apart from the fact that none of you would apply if there wasn't something deep down inside you that liked the idea of being a naked 'gardener'," she added, doing air quotes with her fingers.

She was probably right, but it irked me that she was implying I wasn't a gardener. I had learned so much over the last couple of months that I felt like a gardener.

But it was also true that I felt like a naked servant boy with deep cravings for being dominated.

"Are you blackmailing me?" I asked, trying to keep my nerves out of my voice. My heart was pounding.

She said nothing, but I could see a gleam in her eye even in the scant light.

Just then there was a clatter from outside in the hallway.

"Señora MacKay?" called María.

Mrs MacKay stepped back and adjusted her blouse, and dabbed round her lips.

Then she headed quickly to the door. A shaft of light from the hall streamed in briefly as she slipped out, and then the door clicked shut behind her and I heard them talking.

My breathing was shaky, my mind racing.

I had to message Steph. I had to let her know what was happening. Anything else felt wrong. Even though I hadn't instigated the kiss, and barely reciprocated, my sexual desire for this woman felt like infidelity.

The ladies' conversation moved outside. I heard their voices become more distant, and two sets of footsteps on the gravel.

But I had not heard the front door close. Mrs MacKay was planning to come back.

Quickly, I opened the library door, and stole out into the hallway. I dashed through the house to the back door, and then across the patio and down the garden to the dell where I had left my phone.

My caged cock bounced uncomfortably as I ran. But I was no longer filling it. My anxiety had softened things down there, which was a relief.

I scooped up my phone from where it lay on the edge of the tarpaulin, and was immediately alarmed to see that it was ten past one!

There was a message waiting for me.

You're late. You'd better have a very good excuse. Like Maria is still caning you.

Her laughing emoji made me feel better. It meant she wasn't cross.

I started to write a reply, but there was so much to say.

Can you talk?

She video called me almost immediately.

"You okay?" Steph asked with a concerned voice, as her beautiful face appeared.

"I'm fine," I reassured her. "I'm fine. I just... need to tell you what's happened."

And so I recounted as briefly as I could what had unfolded over the last hour with María and Mrs MacKay, ending with what had passed between us in the library.

She listened attentively, leaning back on a smart grey sofa.

When I was finished, there was silence for a few seconds while she looked at me contemplatively.

"Wow Tom," she said at last. "That is a lot. Are you sure you're okay?"

I replied with a torrent of words, trying to convey the confusion and anxiety I felt.

"Yes, I am. Mostly I was just crazily turned on. But... it just doesn't feel right to be kissing her and... whatever else she wants to do. I'm just not sure what to do. Oh Steph, I think she's still here. What if she comes and finds me?"

"Answer some questions for me," she said, in a tone that told me she was taking charge. I felt reassured at once, even though I was a little nervous at what she might ask.

I hadn't fully owned up to how much I had wanted to kiss Mrs MacKay.

"Were you turned on by me telling you to go and get your bottom caned?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Were you turned on by waiting naked outside the house for this woman to arrive and punish you?"

"Yes," I said.

She chuckled. "I thought so. I'm turned on just thinking about that."

I felt my cock begin to stir. Oh Steph looked so kissable and so gorgeous.

She was my true owner. I knew that. How could I even have eyes for this other woman?

She went on: "Were you turned on by being caned by this woman?"

"Yes," I said. "It really really hurt, but yes."

"Show me your bottom."

I held the phone behind me and I was immediately surprised by what I saw.

I'd never seen such red welts covering my bottom. A whole series of stripes, all parallel, and surrounded by a deep pink blush from my earlier spankings. It was the bottom of a true submissive slave, thoroughly punished for his transgressions.

As I held the phone trying to frame things so that she could see the evidence of my punishment clearly, and so that my bottom looked as attractive as possible, I saw bruising on my right buttock where the tip of the cane had landed each time.

"Oh I love that," Steph said, moving her phone close to her face. "Oh god that is so fucking sexy."

I started to bring the phone back round so she could see my face, but she stopped me.

"No, I want to keep looking at your arse. Bend over a bit."

I did as she asked, and she cooed over how sore I was.

As I looked at the screen over my shoulder, I saw that she was propping her phone up and sitting back on the sofa. I could see her lap now too, with her short dress leaving her legs bare.

And then she began to peel her dress up.

I gasped, watching mesmerised as she gradually edged it higher and higher.

"Next question," she said, "Were you turned on by her? Do you fancy her?"

I found that now I really didn't want to answer this question. But I knew I had to be honest.

"Yes," I admitted anxiously, even as I stood there slightly bent over showing her my caned bottom.

"Good," she said, as she lifted her dress up to her stomach. Her thighs were together, protecting her modesty. But it would be obvious to anyone who saw her that she was completely naked from the waist down.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"In my office," she replied. "With the blinds closed, and the door locked, and everyone out at lunch. So it's 'me time' now - relieving some of the built up sexual frustration I have from your sexy photos."

"Oh god," I breathed.

"Let me see your whole body."

I cast about, my eyes landing on the concrete statue of a man in a toga which sat in the middle of Miss Bradshaw's neglected rockery. His open palm was perfect to stand my phone up propped against his stomach.

"Mmmm that's nice," she said, as I stood back, letting her see all of me. "Keep turning around on the spot. And don't look at me unless you're facing me."

I did as I was told. And as I slowly turned away from her, she began to part her legs.

"Face forwards," she said.

And so, agonisingly, it was only in my peripheral vision that I could see her spreading her beautiful thighs. I kept turning around as fast as I dared without looking like I was rushing.

But as soon as I could see her again, she closed her legs, looking at me mischievously. Her hand was between her legs.

"Keep turning," she said. "I want to admire your body from all angles while I touch myself."

I groaned. And so I kept rotating there on the spot for her, not allowed to see her pussy, insanely turned on, my cock trying painfully to get fully hard.

Once again, it was only as I began to turn away again that she parted her thighs. I caught only a glimpse of her beautiful pussy.

And as I kept shuffling round, facing away from her, I heard little mewing sounds of pleasure from the phone.

Oh god it was torture. And as her pleasure grew, she was groaning to herself about how sexy my punished bottom was.

After five times, she relented. "Okay, move closer so I can see your cock properly. You can watch now while I make myself come."

I looked up at the house. There was no sign of Mrs MacKay.

I stepped up to the phone, and onto a large flat stone at the base of the rockery, bringing my cage into the full frame of the phone's camera.

"Oh perfect," she said, and I was rewarded with a clear view of her pussy as she parted her legs and took her hand away.

It was literally throbbing as I watched, and it's hard to explain what that sight did to me.

"You know what I love about this situation," she said, placing her hand on her bare pubis and sliding her elegant manicured fingers down to her clitoris, "That alone here in my office, not wearing any panties, I can just so easily pleasure myself like this."

She gave a groan of pleasure as she stroked the sides of her clit, coaxing it to harden and emerge from its hood.

Her wet pink opening twitched and throbbed.

She was making such deliciously plaintive sounds of pleasure that I almost couldn't bear it. I longed to be able to touch her. To put my face there and kiss her.

And most of all I longed to be free of my cage.

"You, on the other hand... Poor boy," she soothed, "Locked up like that, in that cute little cage. It's not fair is it? While my pussy is free for me to touch it..."

I groaned.

"... and pleasure it..." she purred, caressing her clitorus.

I whimpered with frustration, my cock rammed tight against the inside of my chastity cage.

"... and I can just give myself a beautiful orgasm..."

I was in a terrible state by this point. My arousal levels were through the roof, and yet there was nothing I could do but watch.

I took my cage in hand and tried to wank myself.

"... and it's going to be such a glorious release..."

"Oh god. Oh god," I was whining, over and over, unable to tear my eyes away as she slid her middle finger inside herself.

"... and you're going to watch me come. You'll see my pussy come right here on camera, while you're trapped in that uncomfortable little cage I've made you wear."

I was wanking myself frenetically now, but all it was doing was making things worse.

"Oh by the way," she said, her voice sounding almost drunk with endorphins, "Guess what I did on my way in. I stopped at the key cutters."

She slid her finger out of herself, and put her hands behind her neck to undo her little necklace.

She brought it down close to the camera. It now had two little keys strung on it.

She laid it on her pussy. The keys were resting just at the top of her wet opening.

"So now there's one key for me, and one for Auntie. But, oh dear, no key for you. How silly of me. That's not very fair either is it? Especially when it's your cock that's locked up."

She began to touch her clitoris again, even with the little silver necklace still lying over it.

"Well... I say your cock, but I suppose it's not really is it. It belongs to me. And Auntie Jane."

Her words were arousing me so much that I didn't know what to do with myself, and she gave a little snorting laugh despite herself.

"Oh look at you, trying to masturbate," she smiled. "Poor boy. But if it makes you feel any better, it really fucking turns me on seeing you packed into that tiny thing."

She slid her finger between her labia and into her wet hole, and began to move it and out, curling it inside her in a beckoning motion. I watched as she closed her eyes and lay back, lifting her pussy a little as she began to move her hips.

She was moaning softly now.

"Are you still watching?"

"Yes," I wailed.

"Of course you are. I bet you wish so much you could slide your lovely big cock into me don't you," she said from where she lay.

Pretty much all I could see of her now was her pussy and her hand, her soft thighs either side. Her tummy rising and falling.

"Hang up now," she said. "I'll video the rest for you."

These words hit me like a ton of lead.

"What? No please. Why?" I protested.

"Go and let that woman kiss you, if she's still there. Kiss her back. Do whatever she wants. But don't initiate anything yourself. Understand?"

It took my breath away. I stood there dumbfounded, still wanking my cage - unable to stop.

She was still moving her finger inside her pussy.

Then she said: "Go. Be obedient. Be her sex toy. And then tell me all about it when you send your next photo."

Suddenly she sat up, her pupils dilated, her hair messy, flushed with desire.

She grinned at me.

"Whose servant boy are you, forever and always?"

"Yours," I told her.

"Good boy," she said. And then she cut the call.

~~~

At first I thought that Mrs MacKay had left. The front door was closed and there was no sound anywhere.

It wasn't surprising, I thought to myself, I'd been gone for ages.

I felt disappointed though. As I stood there in the hallway, consumed with sexual frustration, I touched my stinging bottom.

Steph had been so turned on by it that now I felt able to fully enjoy how turned on by it I was.

Could I be any more of a submissive servant boy than I was right now, naked and thoroughly punished by two women who I'd never met before? Wearing a collar, and kept in chastity purely for Steph's enjoyment.

Her words echoed in my head: "Your cock belongs to me. And Auntie Jane."

Right at this moment, in her office, Steph was making herself come.

"Oh god," I groaned to myself in the empty hallway.

And then, Mrs MacKay's voice made me jump out of my skin.

"I could sit here and look at you all day," she said.

I span round to see her sitting halfway up the stairs.

She was completely naked.

My face must have been a picture as I gaped at her. She grinned broadly.

The one thing she was wearing were her red high heels, and she now stood up, one leg in front of the other, her hands on her hips.

Her body made me weak at the knees.

She wasn't as perfect as Steph. She carried a little too much weight. Her huge breasts weren't as gravity defying as Steph's, but then how could they be?

But I wouldn't have changed a thing. She was beautiful.

Her blue eyes looked at me calmly, her gorgeous dyed-blonde hair fell in waves round her shoulders.

"You're a naughty boy running off like that. Where did you go?"

"I went to call my girlfriend."

"Ah yes, the niece. You know, I remember Miss B mentioning her. She doesn't get on with her sister you know, but she always spoke fondly of Stephanie. So... what did you tell her?"

"I told her everything," I said, uncertain how she would react to this.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose.

"Did you now? Everything - are you sure?"

"Yes," I nodded. "And she said..."

My throat went dry.

"She said I should go and do whatever you wanted."

If Mrs MacKay had looked surprised before, she looked utterly astonished now.

And then her expression changed, as if some satisfying truth had just revealed itself to her.

"Ah... I see now. Stephanie is your mistress. Or your second mistress!"

She looked off to the side of me, thinking.

"So while Miss B is away, your girlfriend Stephanie is your mistress. And old Miss B doesn't know you've got all lovey dovey, does she. She wouldn't like that."

She looked at me, delighted. Then she laughed her fluting laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Her eyes were full of mischief and mirth.

"And now Mistress Stephanie has given permission for you to do whatever I want. So that means right now I'm your mistress. Well now..."

She started to walk down the stairs, never taking her eyes off me. The way she moved was so sexy. Like something from a burlesque show or a cabaret.

All of a sudden, a chilling thought occurred to me.

"Mrs MacKay," I exclaimed.

She stopped walking and regarded me demurely. "Call me Mistress Annabel."

"Mistress Annabel," I said obediently, "There are cameras everywhere. They were installed yesterday."

She looked completely unperturbed. "So there are more cameras," she said, shrugging her beautiful shoulders. Her breasts quivered in a way I found incredibly sexy. "There have always been cameras here. I have had sex many times in this house in the years I've provided cleaning services for Miss Bradshaw. She either doesn't know or doesn't care."

I blinked in surprise as she continued walking down the stairs, her hips swaying.

"I have had sex with every single one of your predecessors. Bar one," she conceded, "But only because Miss B didn't go away that year."

"What happens to them when they stop working for her?" I asked.

"What happens to them?" she echoed, as she reached the bottom, and began to sashay towards me in her stilettos. "I have no idea. I don't have anything to do with them after that. I'm a married woman."

Oh god, I thought. I don't want to be involved in adultery.

"Oh don't look so shocked," she told me. "You should see all the floozies my husband carries on with."

She stopped in front of me, smiling at my nervousness.

"Now then," she said, putting a finger on my mouth. "No more talk. I have other uses for your mouth."

She dragged her finger off my lips roughly, and without breaking eye contact, she ran it down my chest and my stomach until she reached my cage.

"Shame," she murmured.

Then she brought her hand up to my collar, and suddenly used it to pull my face to her, kissing me hungrily.

I kissed her hesitantly at first, and then with fervour. Her lips were so sexual. God I wanted her.

Her breasts were thrillingly large and firm against my chest, her waist so slim by comparison as I slid my hand tentatively up her side.

She reached behind me and grabbed my bottom, gripping it hard, digging her nails in, and giggled as I winced, looking submissively into her eyes.

She released her grip and gave my bottom a few little slaps, grinning, and grunting with pleasure at my reaction.

"You have such a sexy arse," she said.

Then her fingers were curling through the ring on my collar again, and this time tugging me downwards, guiding me to kneel.

I kissed her as I went, wishing I could have lingered at her chest. I longed to bury my face there.

But instead I knelt on my protesting knees, and kissed her stomach hungrily as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I looked up at her and saw that she had a lustful look in her eyes.

"Lower, cageboy," she intoned. And spreading her legs apart, she pushed down on the top of my head.

I got right down, groaning at being so close to her pussy.

I kissed her neat rectangle of pubic hair, lower and lower, until I could smell her arousal. It was such a musky scent - almost overpowering, and I found it intoxicating.

She guided my head lower still, pulling my face against her vulva. My nose was nuzzling her clitoris as I extended my tongue between her labia and tasted her for the first time.

Her juices were potent. Bitter and salty. I lapped eagerly at her slick wetness, and I was rewarded with an urgent groan of pleasure.

"Oh fuck," she exclaimed, like someone who has just lost control of a situation.

Spurred on, I nudged my tongue deeper and deeper into her with every lick.

Oh I was in my subspace now, caged and giving head to this beautiful woman I'd only just met, my bottom stinging badly from the cane she'd punished me with.

She was moving her pussy against my mouth now, gyrating her hips, pulling my face hard against her - using it as just something to frot herself against - something with a tongue and soft lips.

"I need you in bed," she gasped suddenly, yanking my head back.

I got up, wiping my mouth.

"Come on," she said impatiently, and she smacked my bottom hard as she walked past me in the direction of my sleeping quarters, grabbing my cock and balls even as I was still getting up, pulling me after her.

I scurried behind her as she tugged me along, and despite how uncomfortable her grip was, I was unable to take my eyes off her sexy bottom, watching the tremors in her soft cheeks as she walked.

She led me straight to my bed. Clearly she hadn't been lying about having slept with Miss Bradshaw's other naked gardeners - she knew her way around.

"I hope your sheets are clean cageboy," she said.

"They are Mistress Annabel," I replied.

I would never have imagined me saying something like that, having always been derisive about people who indulged in BDSM.

How things had changed. Now it made me feel unbelievably aroused to be made so subservient.

The sexy naked blonde I was about to go down on again yanked the double duvet off the bed with impressive strength, and told me to get onto the bed.

I did as I was told, earning another slap on my poor bottom, and lay on my back.

She mounted me straight away, straddling my legs, her pussy close to my caged cock.

"You definitely don't have a key?" she asked.

"No," I said sadly. "Steph has them."

She frowned in annoyance, looking down at my crotch with pure lust in her eyes. She was breathing hard, her breasts rising and falling.

And then, to my surprise and delight, she took hold of my cage, and guided it to her pussy, shifting forwards, trying to get it inside.

It didn't work of course, but I could feel the wet softness of her pussy lips through the gaps in my cage, and I cried out with pleasure.

"Oh god....." I keened.

"Oh god indeed," she groaned. "I bet you have a lovely big cock don't you. Don't be shy."

"I do," I said.

"Your mistress is a lucky girl," she pouted. "I'll have to make do with your mouth."

She walked on her knees up the bed and lowered herself onto my face. I gazed hungrily at her pussy above me, just before it met my extended tongue.

And then my mouth and nose were enveloped in her sex. My cock, damp from her juices, twitched and throbbed, ignored behind her.

I licked her reverently, trying to give her as much pleasure as I could, making my tongue wide one minute as I stimulated her from bottom to top, and long the next, to push inside her. And soon she was moaning, and moving herself on me, riding my face.

I reached my hands up to caress her body, groping her large breasts, finding her nipples and massaging them until they were unbelievably hard and erect. She seemed to like this a lot because she was looking down at what I was doing with a grimace of arousal.

She reached behind her and fumbled for my balls, gripping them in her hand and I gasped.

She kept tight hold of them, using them for purchase as she ground her pussy faster against my mouth.

Some powerful inner muscle inside her pussy seemed to be sliding against my tongue, and I no longer knew what I was doing - merely making my aching tongue as available for her pleasure as I could.

It must have been several minutes that she fucked my face. My tongue ached. My lips were sore. But I was in heaven listening to her unadulterated moans, rising and rising.

And then, to my utter surprise, a stream of hot liquid squirted down on my face, as she cried out euphorically.

At first I thought she was urinating, but in fact the powerful jet was part of her orgasm, and I just kept doing what I was doing, even though the frequency and quantity of her squirts were making it hard to breathe.

It smelled powerfully. Acidic and bitter, and I found it indescribably erotic as it drenched me. I longed to drink it. To drown in it as she cried out desperately, orgasming again and again.

When she finally finished, her cries subsiding to little mews, and finally to just her gradually slowing breaths, she released my balls, and sat there on my face for a moment, collecting herself.

I was breathing hard through the folds of her sex. My senses were filled with her aroma, and taste, and her cervix was twitching with beautiful little aftershocks against my tongue.

She lifted herself off me and surveyed me with a mixture of kindness and amusement.

"You are very good at that cageboy," she said.

She made no mention of my sopping wet bed.

"Go upstairs and fetch my clothes. I left them in the second bedroom on the right. I had planned to fuck you in there, but it was too far to go."

She got up off the bed, and kicked off her high heels. And as I gazed longingly at her incredible body, she strolled into my little bathroom.

When I returned to my room a couple of minutes later, with her neat pile of clothes, the smell of sex was accompanied by the smell of my shower gel as I heard her washing.

Laying the clothes carefully on the chair, I went into the bathroom to see if I might be allowed to join her.

I had a fantasy in my head about soaping up her breasts.

But sadly she was turning off the shower, wiping water from her eyes. Her hair had got a little wet at the nape of her neck, but was mostly dry.

I handed her a towel, and she wrapped it round herself, eyeing me thoughtfully.

"Tell your mistress that if she ever wants me to come round and keep you in line while she's out, then she should give me a call. Stephanie I mean," she added.

As I stepped past her into the shower, she pinched my sore bottom.

"Don't ever tell Miss Bradshaw about this, do you understand? If she knows, she turns a blind eye. You do not mention it."

"Okay," I said, nervously.

Once I was showered, I came back through and was immediately stopped in my tracks to find that she was wearing her pencil skirt and high heels, but nothing on her top half as she brushed her hair.

"Fuck," I breathed.

She turned and smiled at me.

"You like my breasts don't you cageboy."

"Yes," I admitted ruefully.

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Come here," she told me. "One final treat for you, as you've been so good."

She sat on the side of the bed and told me to lie with my head in her lap.

I eagerly obeyed, lying on my back close to the edge of the bed. Neither of us was in the large wet patch which I was worried must have soaked through to the mattress, but that was something I'd worry about later.

It felt strange lying there with my head on her lap. It was so intimate.

She caressed my hair, and I thought 'Is this okay?' Despite Steph's instructions, it felt like I was being unfaithful to her doing something so personal and affectionate together.

But I needn't have worried because Mistress Annabel's plans were anything but affectionate.

She leaned over and smothered my face with her breasts. I found a nipple, and began to suckle on it.

"This is your reward," she told me, chuckling. "But just to make sure that you don't enjoy it too much, I'm going to slap your balls at the same time."

My protests were lost in her ample bosom.

~~~

It was just after seven and the sun was low in the sky. Dinner was prepped and ready - the stir fry would only take five minutes to cook. Steph had specifically told me to have something prepped but not cooked.

She would be here soon, and I was so excited.

We'd only just hung up. As she was in the back of a taxi, she'd been careful in what she said, but she'd listened to my description of everything that had happened with Mrs MacKay. My messages earlier hadn't gone into detail, so now she wanted to hear everything.

"Oh I really hope she gets to visit again," she'd concluded, and listening to the excitement in her voice, my final vestiges of worry about my infidelity slipped away.

I had been completely honest about my feelings, and Steph had found every aspect of it either amusing or arousing.

"Listen," she'd said, "Here's the plan. The taxi driver is going to drop me at the little bridge half a mile down the drive. I want you to walk down and meet me there. There's a lovely little spot by the river where we can... hang out for a while."

I remembered the little bridge. It wasn't far. Oh my heart trembled at the thought of walking naked down the lane to meet her, and all the exciting things that would happen when I got there.

As we rang off, I'd been unable to stop smiling. I couldn't wait to kiss her. I couldn't wait to be unlocked.

And most of all, I couldn't wait to be inside her.

After Mrs MacKay had left, I'd kept myself busy to try to manage my out of control arousal levels and unbearable sexual frustration.

My bedding was washed, and my mattress cleaned as best I could.

I had worked like a Trojan in the dell, clearing and cutting back and weeding.

I'd prepped the dinner.

But of course every hour, I'd had to think of some inventive photo to send Steph. I felt that I'd done very well.

One of her favourite pictures had been the one of me lying on my front on the grass, taken with my phone propped up by my feet. With my legs apart she had had a view between my legs, and of my punished bottom, with the light hitting me just right so that the muscles of my back looked most pronounced. I had to admit that it was a beautiful picture. It was well worth all the time it had taken to get it right, getting the phone at the right angle, and trying to get in position before the camera's timer reached zero.

She also liked the funny one I took of me covering myself with a literal fig leaf, looking like an embarrassed Adam in the Garden of Eden. She'd described that one as 'Super cute'.

But her absolute favourite had been the close-up of my cock in the warm afternoon light, straining desperately inside its cage, with a long drip of precome catching the light...

It was time to set off walking to our little rendezvous spot. With the front door key in one hand, and my phone in the other, I pressed the gate opening control, and let myself out, pulling the huge oak door closed behind me.

It was the second time I'd been out the front of the house today, and I looked at the spot where Mrs MacKay - Mistress Annabel - had punished me so cruelly. I remembered vividly the delicious feelings of submissive joy that had accompanied the pain.

With a throbbing in my cage, I turned to look at the lane stretching off ahead. I made my way across the gravel gingerly, looking forward to the less uncomfortable tarmac when I got beyond the gate.

It felt so thrilling to be about to leave the premises, completely naked.

But then the first thing happened in what turned out to be a very different evening to the one I was looking forward to.

As I approached the gate, it suddenly whirred into action, and trundled closed.

I stopped, perplexed. I was sure I'd set it to be locked open.

Annoyed, I padded back across the stones to the door and let myself in with the key.

I once again set the gate to open, making sure it was the right setting to keep it open. For good measure, this time I picked up the remote control and took it with me.

But again, as soon as I approached the gate, it began to close.

I sprinted towards it, pressing the remote control frantically, but it was no good. The gate shut just before I reached it, leaving me standing there panting, and cursing at the pain in my feet.

I called Steph.

"You must be doing something wrong," she told me. "Double check you're pressing the right thing. 'Lock Open'. And go and put your wellies on. Maybe you can run faster on the stones in them."

"Okay," I said, secretly irritated that she thought I didn't know how to operate the gate control.

But my irritation evaporated as she said:

"Hurry up servant boy. I'm here now waiting, and I'm seriously wet for you."

As I scurried as quickly as I could back to the house I thought about the video she'd sent me earlier.

Oh god. It had been the last thing I needed to try and calm down after everything that Mistress Annabel had done to me.

I had stood there in the garden bewitched by Steph's beautiful pussy, waxed smooth and perfect, as she fingered herself.

And when she added a little silver bullet vibrator to the mix, holding it to her clitoris as she fucked herself with two fingers, I had almost come myself as I watched mesmerised, listening to her loud orgasmic moans.

That was what had led to the photo of the long drip of precome.

I groaned as I let myself back into the house once again. I so badly needed to get through that gate and to Steph, where we would be alone together, unobserved by cameras.

But my third attempt failed too. Even in the wellies, I couldn't reach the gate in time.

I stood there in disbelief, frustrated and swearing as I even considered whether it was possible to scale the gate or the wall.

The remote control refused to work. Or at least, it started to, but the gate immediately closed again before it had opened more than an inch or two.

I called Steph again and told her the bad news.

She sounded every bit as annoyed as me.

"Okay, don't worry. We'll think of a different plan. I'm walking back now."

And so a few minutes later she arrived at the gate, rang the buzzer, and from the hallway I let her in.

I walked out to meet her, without my wellies this time, and greeted her forlornly. The gate rumbled closed behind her.

She looked so beautiful in her short dress, and knowing that she was knickerless, and wet, was driving me wild. And yet there was nothing we could do about it under the constant scrutiny of the cameras.

As she got nearer to me she smiled. "It's okay," she said. "Why don't you go for a swim? And maybe I'll come and join you." She winked, and whispered: "Down where we know there's no cameras!"

I felt a rush of relief and joy sweep through me.

"Of course!" I beamed.

It felt so wrong to not be able to kiss her or hug her in that moment. Her close proximity made every nerve ending alive with anticipation, craving her touch.

But instead, we walked separately into the house.

As she followed me, she exclaimed: "Oh my god your punished bottom is even sexier in the flesh. She really went to town on you didn't she."

"She really did," I agreed, looking at her over my shoulder, enjoying her looking at me.

"You go," she told me, a dark desire in her eyes. "I'll see you down there. Get towels"

And so, grinning broadly, I went off to the laundry, while she went up the stairs. I wished I'd stayed and looked up her dress as she went. But I'd see it all soon enough, I thought, smiling to myself.

It had cooled off quite a lot outside, but the clouds had gone and there was just enough warmth left in the sun as I walked across the lawn down towards the pool.

My cock was so ready to be free of its cage. It was impossible to not let myself imagine the moment she would open the padlock and my erection would spring free. It would be ribbed with marks from the bars, huge, and throbbing. And ready for her to use. Ready to ease into her sopping wet little pussy.

I grunted in frustration for the hundredth time that day at the merciless metal device.

As soon as I got to the pool, I dived in. Not because I particularly fancied a swim, but because I needed something to occupy me while I waited for her.

It felt good to be propelling myself through the water, my muscles flexing, my heart pumping. The coolness soothed things between my legs too, and I felt more regulated.

But I didn't have to wait long for Steph. I'd only done five or six lengths before I spotted her walking towards me across the lawn in her insanely short little dressing gown, smiling.

I pulled myself out of the water and stood there grinning back at her, letting her admire me.

But then, without warning, an extraordinary thing happened.

A deafening klaxon went off which made me jump out of my skin. Steph stopped, covering her ears and cowering as an automated voice blared out over the top of the din:

"PERIMETER BREACHED. SECURITY WILL BE CALLED IN TEN SECONDS"

"What the fuck?!" I exclaimed.

"NINE" the voice proclaimed.

Steph was backing away, her face a picture of shock and bewilderment.

And the moment she had moved back a couple of yards, the noise stopped completely.

The peace restored, she stood there staring at me, shellshocked.

I stared back. Neither of us could compute what had just happened.

I felt shaken to my core.

She took a few tentative steps forward... And then flinched as the quiet evening was once again shattered by the alarm.

"Jesus," I cursed. It was excruciatingly loud.

"EIGHT" the robotic voice announced.

Steph hurriedly backed up, and again the noise instantly stopped.

"This doesn't make any sense!" she shouted to me.

"I know! Why would the alarm go off when you're walking away from the house??" I shouted back. "What kind of intruder alarm does that?"

"You come to me," she called, beckoning.

I grabbed the towels and made my way over to her, dabbing at my torso, and feeling trepidatious about the alarm going off again.

But nothing happened. I joined her on the lawn, and we both looked towards the house. We were definitely in view of the cameras.

She looked at me. "Okay, I'm going to go to the pool. Let's see what happens."

Cautiously, she stepped forward bit by bit, going further and further until it became clear that the alarm wasn't going to start up again.

"Okay this is so weird," she called back, turning to face me from several yards away. "Come on."

I set off towards her, but after just one step the klaxon blared out again, making us both jump in shock.

"SEVEN"

I dashed back, and as suddenly as it had started, the alarm stopped again, and the only sound was the hum of the swimming pool pump, and the ringing in my ears.

~~~

On the patio together, having walked silently back across the grass towards the house, I stopped and turned to her.

"The cameras and everything were ordered by Yousef," I told her. "It was on a printed form I found in the security lady's bag."

Steph looked at me, absorbing this information. "The bag in the hall?"

"Yeah."

"So... is it Yousef watching us?" she asked, looking confused and concerned.

"Maybe. Or someone who works for him. He obviously doesn't want us alone together out of sight."

Steph looked up at the house, scanning for the cameras. "So we're fucked," she said. "Unless there's some way we can trick him."

She froze. "Wait. What if we stand right up close to the house. The cameras face outwards. They won't be able to see what's directly under them."

I nodded. "It might work."

She stepped up to the wall of the house, and stood with her back flat against the virginia creeper.

"You go off towards the door, and then slide your way back to me."

I looked at her doubtfully, but it was worth a go.

I walked as casually as I could to the door, and then just as I was about to go inside, I instead edged my way along the wall. If Yousef was watching he would now be wondering where we both were and surely smell a rat. But so far, nothing had happened.

As I reached her, we held hands, giggling at how ridiculous it all was. Keeping as close in as possible, she turned round and side-stepped in front of me, pressing her body against mine.

Oh it was wonderful to be making contact with her.

I couldn't focus on her beautiful face, she was so close. She grinned and kissed me.

And for the next several minutes, we kissed and kissed. It was heavenly. I didn't mind my sore bottom being pressed against the virginia creeper. I didn't even mind that I was still locked in my cage - it felt just so perfect to be close to her, our bodies pressed together, her soft lips touching mine, our tongues moving in each other's mouths.

"Greenhouse," she whispered suddenly, inclining her head towards it, only a short distance away. "We'll have more space there."

As far as we knew there was no need to whisper, but we both found ourselves doing it instinctively.

She sidled away from me, and I followed her, close to the wall, both of us giggling like school children.

I waited and watched as she flitted across to the door of the greenhouse and slipped inside.

Bracing myself, I gave it a moment, and then did the same.

As I closed the door behind me, I smiled broadly at her. Her beautiful eyes twinkled.

We'd got away with it.

It was warm in here, and the tomato plants smelled wonderful. Their furry stems brushed against my skin as I went to her.

With all the foliage around us, it felt like a little love nest.

She undid the cord of her silk dressing gown and I slipped my hands inside, sighing at the beautiful sensation of her soft bare skin underneath, and the sight of her slim naked figure.

Moving my eyes up, I noticed that her necklace had only one key on it, and as she kissed my neck, I remarked on that fact.

"I've put Auntie's key back," she whispered dramatically. "I slipped it back into her jewellery box, pretending to borrow some cotton wool pads."

I chuckled. "Well done."

I slid my hands down her back to her exquisite bottom, and pulled her closer to me.

She was caressing my bottom too.

"I like the feeling of the welts she's given you. It's a shame they'll have gone down by tomorrow. You have a very resilient bottom servant boy," she said, patting it softly. "Maybe I'll have to bring them back in the morning."

My stomach flipped.

And then, as we continued to kiss, she dealt me a hard smack, and she giggled as I gasped, the stinging reignited.

It was a beautiful moment. I'm sure that she would soon have been unlocking my padlock, and taking me into her hand.

But sadly it wasn't to be.

We both shrieked as the sprinklers came on fiercely, spraying us with freezing water.

It was unbearably cold.

"Oh shit. Shit shit shit," she cursed, as we made a run for it, scurrying back out to the patio, and the cold stare of the cameras.

~~~

And so, a little while later, we were sat next to each other at the breakfast bar, like we had that morning, eating our chicken stir fry morosely.

"It's hopeless," she said.

I sighed. "Yeah. It feels like it."

The only sound as we looked out at the dimming sky was the grandfather clock in the lounge, and the clinking of our forks.

"Unless..." I said, determination rising up in me suddenly.

She looked at me expectantly. Under the worktop, out of sight of the cameras, she squeezed my thigh.

"We just do it. Screw Yousef," I said boldly.

Steph looked uncertain. "But he'll set off the alarm. Send in security. Plus, he'll tell Auntie Jane and then you'll be out of a job."

"It's only money. I can just move in with you," I said, "And get a different job. She won't have any hold over us then."

Steph bit her lip. "The thing is," she said, "Auntie is paying for the apartment. I can't afford it."

I pondered this new information. It seemed we were both financially dependent on her aunt. I thought about how much healthier my bank balance was now.

"But, what if we just wait till I'm done here," I ventured. "It's only another month or so. We can do that. And then I part ways with her and secretly move in with you?"

"She'll know. And anyway... What if Yousef makes you disappear? We haven't really talked about that."

I felt a chill run through me.

We continued to eat in silence, although I don't think either of us had much appetite.

"We need an escape plan," Steph said. "There has to be a way."

She put down her fork.

"Let's sleep on it. I think I might head to bed," she said. "It's been a long day."

She stretched and massaged the back of her neck.

It was only eight o'clock, so I was dismayed that I now didn't get to spend the evening with her.

"Once you've cleared up, I suggest you head to bed too," she said, and to my surprise she suddenly roughly wanked my cage.

I gasped, my erection swelling up painfully.

And then she stopped.

As she withdrew her hand, I felt her lay something on my leg.

She stood up.

"Night servant boy," she said. "If it's a bit too early to settle down, you could always video call someone."

I caught her eye and she gave me the slightest twitch of her eyebrows. I grinned.

And as I watched her leave the room in her damp skimpy dressing gown, I looked down and saw her necklace bunched up on my thigh, the key glinting in the light.