“Ding” Peter picked up his phone, his mind on his work. Not long to go now, and he could head home. The house would be empty; he had no plans for the night. Until he saw her text. His heartbeat quickened; he squirmed in his seat, making space in his underwear for his sudden erection, as her words sunk in. He quickly sent back his agreement, adding how much the message had turned him on. A gif of a dominant woman smiling was her immediate response. He re-read her first message, ensuring he had understood correctly. “Darling. I’ve just orgasmed to this plan. I am going to claim you, today. By the time you get home, I will have been and left some things on your bed. Shower and shave, then wear what I have left you. Nothing else. Then do what you want, until I get there. When you hear me at the door, you are to kneel on the rug, facing the door. Follow these instructions exactly for the most enjoyable experience you have ever had. However, if you do not do exactly as instructed, there will be consequences. If you are interested, reply with your written compliance. If not, it can stay in my head as a fantasy.”

His mind whirled. What things was she going to leave out? And what did she mean by “claim” him?
He didn’t like the thought of ‘consequences’; nor did he want to disappoint her, in any way. He glanced at the clock, which seemed to be ticking slower now….

Eventually, it was time to leave. The afternoon had dragged by, despite Peter’s best attempts to distract himself with his work. He packed his things, and headed home. Perhaps it was his imagination; but he felt sure the air that met him, as he opened the front door, carried a hint of her perfume. He wondered if she was still here, and hesitantly called her name, his voice unanswered. Although his urge was to go straight to the bedroom, he made himself walk the other direction, into the bathroom. Stripping off; his dusty clothes going straight into the wash basket, before dousing himself in the shower, torn between letting the water continue to sluice over him, but his curiosity telling him to hurry. When his brain suggested that She might arrive while he was still in the shower, and therefore not waiting as she wanted….he almost panicked. Shutting off the water, he quickly towelled dry, going to the sink for his razor, and some hot water. Wiping the last of the water from his face, Peter made his way to the bedroom, excited yet a little nervous of what he might find. On the bed, arranged in a line, were four cardboard boxes, each numbered. Peter reached out and opened the box marked with a 1, and took out the contents. The bright shiny steel cage had a small, open padlock beside it. He fished in the box again, but there didn’t seem to be a key with it. He assumed Claire had taken it with her, or hidden it somewhere. Peter had some difficulty getting his erection to subside; but eventually, after pinching his skin painfully, whilst trying to manoeuvre the cage into place, he finally got the parts lined up. A moan escaped him as he closed the padlock, realising that he had no way of getting back out of the cage unaided. He opened the second box.

More shiny steel; in the unmistakable shape of a butt plug. He winced at its size and weight as he lifted it out, along with the sachet of lubricant. Peter carefully opened the lube, smearing the contents on the plug, then slowly offered it against his anus. The coldness of the metal made him jump, but he slowly persevered, pushing a little deeper…..holding still, then relaxing, before pressing a little deeper. He was beginning to think it may be just too big for him, when, with a soft slurp, the widest point passed inside, and his body sucked the rest of the plug inside him. He gasped at the sensation of fullness, and carefully stepped back over to the bad, becoming aware that his caged cock was dripping from its prison. Peter opened the third box.

Not metal, this time; but the items gleamed, nevertheless. Glossy black lingerie seemed to shimmer in his hands, as he took a moment to admire the feel of the material, before carefully drawing the stockings up his legs. They felt strange on his legs, but also very sensual and pleasurable. He glanced down, pleasantly surprised by the way his legs looked; covered in the sheer nylons. He felt a little silly putting on the bra, but as his fingers slid over the cups, he gave a little gasp; the feeling against his nipples was almost like an electric shock. Peter felt his cock throb in its steel cage, and he suddenly hoped he didn’t drip on the pretty stockings. He realised almost immediately, that he was going to make a bit of a mess of the panties; but there was nothing he could do about that. The feeling of the soft fabric, covering his bottom and crotch, was highly erotic, and he squirmed again, his mind imagining Claire’s face when she saw him. Hesitantly, he opened the last box.

He had half expected something similar. Padded wrist and ankle cuffs, and a gleaming, steel collar; each with a matching open padlock hanging from it. He bent, fastening the cuffs around his ankles, and, taking a deep breath, clicked the locks shut. His wrists were next then he closed the heavy metal collar around his neck, and locked it in place.

He couldn’t help himself; his hands ran across his body, exploring the strange sensations. His cage twitched, his nipples hardening as he lightly pinched at them. He groaned softly in need, and stopped, turning to leave the bedroom. He stopped suddenly, his eye drawn to something. He walked carefully to the bedside table, hoping his initial guess would be wrong.

The small cctv camera stared back at him. He felt his face flush, guessing she had either watched, or recorded him. The thought gave him butterflies, but he could also feel his wetness soaking his underwear as his body counterpointed his fear with its arousal. He squirmed again, and walked down the hall, to the lounge.