I've only just dropped my bags in the hotel room when I notice a red flashing light on the phone. My stomach clenches and the top of my head starts to tingle; I know exactly who that message is from. I take in my surroundings first, before picking up the phone and jumping down the rabbit hole. The room is cheery and bright, it's high up and has got a nice view of the Thames. There are fresh clean linens on the bed, which is ironic given the dirty deeds soon to be done atop of it.  


I can't wait any longer and pick up the phone to check the message. I'm expecting to hear your voice and am dying of curiosity, but alas it's just a message from the front desk. 'Umm Sir, there is a message for you from a Ms. Nicola. She says to wait for her downstairs at the bar and mmm...' He mumbles this last bit, his proper British manners overcome with embarrassment to say the words out loud. 'Sorry, come again?' He nervously clears his throat '...and she says to make sure you are wearing the knickers she left.'  


Thankfully, the phone hangs up before either of us have to face the shame of addressing that statement. I look around and sure enough, there is a small box with a ribbon wrapped around it sitting on the desk. I had assumed it was some hotel promotion, but it seems you have done some prep work ahead of my arrival. Inside is a little silk g-string not quite as red as my face at that current moment. 'Is she serious?' I think to myself. This was never discussed between us, and frankly the thought of wearing panties out in public seems totally bizarre. On the other hand, I know very well by now that there is no denying a request like this. Also, I reason with myself, it'll be worth it just for the pleasure of you knowing that underneath my faded jeans and t-shirt are panties you ordered me to wear.  


I take a long hot shower, preparing myself for what's about to come (or what I think might be about to come, because I have no clue what you have planned). No touching - the mantra that now constantly echoes through my head. It's almost impossible in the shower while I soap myself up, imagining that I will soon be under your physical control. I end the shower with a blast of cold water, knowing I'll need to go back into my cage now that I've landed and am done going through security checks. I'm frustrated practically to tears as a snap the cage over top my desperate cock. I've got a two now, one for when we're apart and a new one for when we're together. This is the first time I've had it on and already we've got a love-hate relationship. It's a stainless steel solid sleeve, so there's no sensation whatsoever on my dick. Once I'm locked, I slide the flaming red panties on over top and check myself out in the mirror. I look absolutely ridiculous, which has the insidious effect of feeding my humiliation and getting me all that much more turned on. My dick is starting to pinch against its cage, leaving me no choice but no try and calm myself down. Breathing exercises seem to help. I've learned over the last month that when the volcano inside of me burns too hot, all I can do is stop and breath until it cools down. You have left me no other choice.  


I throw on a pair of jeans and tight t-shirt. At least on the surface, nobody would suspect that under my clothes I'm locked in chastity and wearing a red g-string. Better remember not to bend over though while I'm out, because that might be a little embarrassing. I head down to the lobby, where the gentlemen at the front desk does his best to avoid eye contact. Shame floods my body again from head to toe as I am reminded that this stranger knows my secret. I hurry to the bar and take a seat. You haven't said when you'd be there, just to wait. I'm squirming around on my seat as the cage presses against my balls. It's not painful or uncomfortable, just a constant reminder that my sexuality is no longer my own. That thought alone sends a pulse between my legs and another squeeze as I strain against the cage.  


My mind has wandered, as it always seems to do now, to fantasizing about you. I want to know everything and consume you with all of my senses. How you look, feel, smell, and oh god how you taste. I'm resigned to the fact that I probably won't find out, but that doesn't quench my desire. The bartender approaches and pours me a whisky. How did he know? 'Madam in the back corner ordered this for you. She has requested you join her.'   


Of course that's how this works. You'd never approach me, it would have to be the other way around. So with shaking hands I scoop up the glass and into the darkness bathing that back of the bar. Just like that, there you are. Shamelessly eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat. Your gaze alone awakens the butterflies in my stomach. It feels like we're the only two people in the entire bar. Your eyes trail down to between my legs and that single raised eyebrow asks the question that doesn't even need to be spoken. I nod slightly, unable to turn away from your stare. The sides of your lips curl into a faint wicked smile. Without a care for what anyone around us might think, she snap your fingers and point to the chair across from you. At this point, it's almost like I don't even have control over my own muscles any more. Without a word, I sit and wait.  


'Hi Jeff'. Just two tiny words and it feels like my head is about to pop off. I've finally heard your voice. I know the sound of your commands now. 'Welcome to London.' You exude a strange mix of sweet and stern. Our conversation takes us into different corners of one another's lives, sometimes charged with sexual energy, other times just fascinated curiosity. When we talk it feels like equals, but still, there is an undercurrent of power emanating from you. It dawns on me why that is. This woman sitting across the table from me, never having even met me before, has convinced me to lock myself up put on her panties. No wonder I keep seeing that mischievous sparkle in your eye all night. We're both a bit tipsy by the end of dinner and laughing over a story. Suddenly, without warning, your demeanor shifts to that of a businesswoman at a corporate merger. 'This has been lovely and now I believe you know what is expected of you if you wish to proceed.'  


This part we've discussed in advance, so I am prepared. Terrified, but ready. I take the tiny little key out of my pocket and nervously slide it over to you across the table. You just smile and shake your head no. 'That won't do at all. You need to present it to me properly'. You hand me a delicate chain necklace 'I will be wearing this around my neck as a reminder, every time you look at me, as to you of who holds your key. Any anyone else who recognizes what it is...' you chuckle. Light years past the point of no return, I stand up and slip the key to my cage around the chain. It's the first (and only) time I've had the chance to touch you all night, only to clasp the symbol of my chastity around your neck. I notice a slight increase in your breathing while I put the necklace on you. It's the only visible sign of arousal you have let on all night, but it's enough to send electric sparks through me.  


Impatient now, you stand up and strut confidently through the bar without looking back. There is no question that I am to follow you, and no question that I am to remain a few feet behind for everyone to see who is in charge. You tease me in public while we wait for the elevator, ever so lightly brushing your hand against my crotch. You want to feel the cage and I see how much it excites you to know it's there. The elevator doors open and we step in, joined by two drunk girls in their 20s. As soon as the doors close, you turn to them and ask 'wanna see something hilarious?' There is an immediate sinking feeling in my stomach. I know where this is headed, and now you're going to torture me too while you're at it.  


You turn to me: 'Lift up your shirt'! Even the girls look a bit shocked to hear the command in your voice. Without hesitation, I raise my t-shirt. 'Now turn around!' The worst part is that the entire elevator is lined with mirrors, so I can see all three of your faces. You reach down and snap my g-string, giving the girls a front row view of my humiliation. 'Know what this key is for?' you ask them. There's a blank stare and then a moment of dawning realization when they figure it out. One of them points between my legs, 'you mean to tell me he let you put a cage on his dick? What's wrong with this guy?' The two of them are laughing so hard now there are tears streaming down their faces as they step off the elevator. Now it's just the two of us. You turn to me grab the steel cage with a vice grip, pulling me toward you. Your fingernails wind their way up the way of my head and suddenly pull hard, jerking my head. 'You are mine now, do you understand that?' You ask in a hiss, hand still pulling my hair. 'Yes Mistress.' It's the only words I seem to know anymore, the only two words that my brain is capable of thinking. 'Good....' You pull my head toward you and kiss me with a passion I have never before experienced. A predator who has utterly conquered her prey.