© Copyright 2016 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission
Storycodes: MF; F/m; FM/m; date; rom; chast; lock; cuckold; cons; X
(I don't especially like chastity personally, but I wouldn't mind inflicting it on others under the right circumstances, this a very short intro to a storyline I would like to follow if there is interest.)
...It was early fall, I riding in the back seat of the overlarge SUV with my date close up against me, my little black dress nearly invisible on the black leather seats in the dark. It was a short dress and I was showing a lot of leg in the back with my date, but he liked my legs, and pretty much all the rest of my parts as well, to include my wicked mind I was happy to discover.
The dress I had specifically chosen for this date ensured those fine leather seats would be cold on my bare bottom when I had first gotten in, the thought exciting to me, but likely more so to our driver whom I had made sure had gotten an eyeful when holding the heavy door for me earlier in our driveway. I had chosen a thong and not to go commando intentionally, but my black on black wardrobe may have masked that fact from his hungry eyes, his vivid imagination filling in the details as one might expect.
...I didn't know for a fact yet if the muscular man sitting next to me was going to get lucky later that night, (he potentially claiming my thong afterwards as a trophy of sorts), but I did know for a fact that our driver wasn't...
My tall and muscular date was named Jim, and this wasn't our first date either, but our third. He liked what he saw, that much was obvious even in the dark, but he had every reason to as I had specifically dressed myself for him. Jim's suit complimented my dress nicely, and I knew we would look the perfect couple while out on the town, except of course for our sizes. I was barely five foot five in scandalously high stilettos, where Jim was nearly six foot four barefoot.
Jim had monstrously big hands to compliment the rest of him as well, my tiny ring less hand disappearing fully in his as we held hands in the dark on our trip into the city. I had placed my hand in his when he had silently offered, and made no attempt to move it from my lap at the apex of my thighs when he had place it there gently. I suspected he was by implication laying claim to what had yet to be his, or possibly just warming his hand as I was generating plenty of heat there.
It was a well planned and romantic date, and had I a score card with me I would have given him high marks. Jim had reservations at a very nice restaurant in the big city, and then a show afterwards. That was one of the reasons for our driver as Jim hated to drive in the city, but not the only one. The show was scheduled to end late and Jim even had the forethought to get an incredibly expensive room so we could stay over, all in all a magnificent date.
The room was a first for one of our dates, but a natural progression for two mature adults hitting it off on their third date together, the implication not so subtle though. I was after all an adult and free to chose who I wished to be on such intimate terms with, the room known about in advanced and no last minute surprise, I still choosing to go of my own free will. It was all about choices I realized, the ones made, and the ones not.
...I had packed a night bag for this date in another first, (as did Jim), that much less subtle, especially if one were to see what I had chosen to pack...
After dropping us off at the restaurant our driver had been instructed by Jim to drop off our overnight bags at the hotel, and afterwards he was then dismissed to go about his business until Jim called for a pickup sometime the next day, or even possibly the day after that if we had a good time in the city at the museums and galleries. Jim was a charming man and a great date, (we had known each other for years, although he only recently back on the market and able to date), but he had a rather curt no nonsense way of speaking with our driver as if to remind him of his place. I would have talked to him about it except that the two had an understanding, and if truth were to be told, I found it darkly amusing.
Our driver had after all chosen his position, in fact he had begged for it. He had even manipulated things earlier to ensure he one day could have no other, and in light of all these things I had a hard time finding any sympathy for his lot in life. Everybody needs to do something, but he was there of his own free will and ordinarily that would be that, except for the details.
His name was Jack, and I knew for a fact that at that moment Jack was wearing a special edition of a popular chastity device under a pair of silk panties, both hidden under his suit pants and held fast by a high end but tiny lock. I knew all this because I was his key keeper, the holder of that single little brass key that could release the device ensuring his chastity, and his humbling servitude. "Secure the manhood, secure the man" had been etched on that device, and so far it had worked out that way much to my surprise, or amusement I thought darkly if I were to be honest with myself.
One might think Jack could take matters in his own hands in a moment of extreme frustration and cut the tiny but strong lock from the device and gain his freedom without my key, but the device encapsulating his man hardware had been specially made of tempered glass, ordinarily strong, but designed with purposeful faults in its structure so that any rough handling near the tiny lock would shatter it with catastrophic results. It was part of the device's advertised tamper proof design, and even if he had second thoughts about being our driver, or even taking terse orders from the large man sitting next to me, they did him little good at this point in the game with me in possession of that key and his manhood safely locked away. "Such a small and simple thing to misplace" I had suggested of my key once casually when he needed to be reminded of his place, the message clearly received with his respectful "yes ma'am" response.
I had my doubts if he really wanted out of his commitment though, his true desires on the subject however irrelevant to me at the moment. As it was I knew Jack our driver quite well, one doesn't make just anybody their key keeper. He had charged me to be ruthless and firm in my duties when handing me that key, and in this at least I was faithful.
Jack our driver and I after all had been quite happily married for the last several years, and this chaste cuckolding thing entirely his own idea, as was the purchase of the device he was presently trapped within so as to ensure his continued motivation. What may have started out as a noble intention to help a friend in need had since mutated into something else though, something sinister and darkly erotic, but I now too fully entwined in its grip to ever go back to the way things used to be. I had to begrudgingly admit this one thing that Jack was right about if nothing else, this WAS fun, (at least for me), even though I had yet to even consummate the deal with Jim.
Both men had to know there was no going back, I making no attempt to disguise my desires, perhaps even both getting what they wanted from the experience in an odd sort of way. Would there be any second thoughts after this night was over, after turning back was likely no longer an option, as if it ever was once that tiny lock had closed?
Not from myself, and likely not from Jim either. I was his for the proverbial taking even though I knew this was so wrong on so many levels, but wickedly exciting all at the same time, and sanctioned in writing by my chaste and motivated chauffeur playing husband in a way that none could call cheating.
But that, as they say, is the rest of the story...
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story continues in Playing Chauffer 2: My Husband Baits His Own Trap