Dating : Metamorphosis

The lockdown has changed us all in different ways

I wake up to the email from work, and I am filled with a cold dread.
All employees are expected to return to the building starting next week.

I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to work from home during this period. However, right at the beginning I discovered that long hours of being online in a dull, data-entry job do tend to let the mind wander. And when it does, often the next step is me masturbating furiously to a memory of Mistress and me together and ending in a nap afterwards, which means any productivity I had before that is shot.

Having shared that information with Mistress, she’s been helping me work on my self-discipline. Not idling away my day on Twitter and Instagram was a big part of it. We have a special ringtone for her — the crack of a whip seemed quite appropriate — but apart from her calls and messages, I am not allowed to look at my phone during the workday. Even then, I’m only to pick it up when she contacts me, speak when spoken to and all that.

However, my libido has a life of its own and when I admitted to her that I hadn’t stopped jacking off at random times of the day, she suggested more extreme measures. A severe whipping during our weekly sessions would leave my behind smarting for days on end as I squirmed in my chair while typing in columns of numbers. But then I also found myself embellishing my misadventures just so she could ramp up the ferocity of her lashes.

Then at last she proposed a solution that has seemed to work quite well. A brown paper-wrapped parcel was delivered to my door with no other markings on it. I shook it gently and heard a faint rattle. Inside was a stainless-steel cage and instructions for use and hygiene. Her text arrived soon after.
I want a picture every morning with that on before you start your workday.

I marvelled at how small the device was and wondered how I would quite fit in it, but somehow it does slide on with some fortitude, practice, and lube. Keeping the pubic area shaved helps with that too but adds to the torture in a different dimension. The smooth skin is extra sensitive and even the sensation of cold steel rubbing against it causes me to bulge in the cage, turgidly pushing through the solid bars like ten pounds of dick in a five-pound bag.

The first time I tried to put it on I ended up creaming myself before I could push the stud through the loop and snap the lock shut, that’s how turned on I was. Since then though I’ve gotten much better at getting it on, and it has certainly had a remarkable effect on my work rate. Being unable to wank has keened my mind, just as losing a sense sharpens the others. And while I cannot stop thinking about sex, I also cannot act on my impulses, which means I have to work extra hard on focusing on work even as I desperately rub my thighs together against the metal prison to elicit any kind of friction.

Lately though, Mistress has taken to making things even harder for me, pardon the euphemism. I was dubious when she had me put on a pair of panties, but the sensation of satin material against shaved skin was so thrilling I almost self-combusted on the spot. There was more, though. She added sheer stockings and high heels to the ensemble and laughed heartily as she watched me totter about her flat in them, before bending me over her knees and giving me a hand spanking to remember.

Now when I go over on the weekends, she usually has a whole outfit picked out for me. The naughty schoolgirl is by far my favourite, though we have tried on a few more. We’ve been able to explore a few more kinks as well like this; I for one never realised I was perfectly suited for a life of domestic servitude to her. Whereas many have picked up new talents like baking sourdough bread, brewing homemade mead or learning a musical instrument, I’ve gotten quite adept at putting on makeup, walking about in heels and doing Mistress’s bidding.

While we had often engaged with anal play, Mistress has now added wearing a butt plug to the regimen too. As a direct result, I end up sitting quite straight in my chair where I used to slouch for hours tap-tapping away at the keyboard. With the plug in and a corset on, my posture has improved dramatically. I have developed a new gait; walking with confidence, my back straight, shoulders proud and head high. Mistress has even talked about taking me outside dressed up, an idea that sends delicious tingles up and down my spine despite the thought terrifying me at the same time.

Over the lockdown, I’ve gone from being a lazy and disinterested drone stuck in the corporate cogs to Employee of the Month three consecutive times. The guardrails Mistress has enacted keep me on track during the workday and I am able to get incredible amounts of work done, embracing the persona she has created for me.

Which brings me back to that email. How am I supposed to go back to work and interact with the same colleagues now? Stephen the slacker is no more, so is it time they met Stevie now? I’m going to have to ask Mistress what she thinks when we meet this weekend.