M’s curiosity grew as he put Charlie’s dirty bedclothes in the washing machine. How did things play out? The takeout and hard ciders must have been theirs, they had dinner and a couple drinks to loosen up. Given how untidy Charlie’s couch was, they probably fooled around before taking things to her bedroom. Charlie must have still been clothed when they went to the bedroom, and she stripped there before fucking him…or did he strip her?
M suspected this unknown partner didn’t stay the night; given the mess of the bathroom and that the towels on the floor were dry, he must have showered when they finished fucking, and left. She probably didn’t shower with him…was it not good for her, or was she too cum drunk to get out of bed? Maybe his cock wasn’t enough for her, and she decided to have more fun with her wand while he showered. She must not have been happy the man she was with, left her bathroom that big a mess.
M took Charlie’s wand to the bathroom and cleaned it, putting it back in her night stand where it belonged before putting new sheets on the bed. He forgot his own arousal and humiliation, and found himself actually growing slightly angry on her behalf. Charlie had dinner with this man and fucked him, for him to leave a mess of her apartment to clean up while she had to resort to using her magic wand? She deserved better men in her life.
Or, maybe, Charlie was totally happy with this man leaving a mess, knowing M would be here to clean it up. After all, cleaning up after a night partying was another demeaning way for M to submit and serve her…and he was gratified to do it.
M shook his head, wondering if it was the fog of denied arousal leading him down this thoughtful path, or if he was truly accepting his role as Charlie’s cuckolded submissive. It all blended together, and in these moments, he wasn’t sure where his own arousal ended and his vicarious gratification and disappointment began. It was still new to him, and he wasn’t sure if the distinction even mattered — or if there really was one.
He finished Charlie’s bedroom by tidying up her vanity and emptying the trash — used condom included — into the kitchen trash can. He tied off the bag and put his clothes back on to take it to the dumpster, before going back inside and stripping. M checked the clock, and noticing it was 7:00 already, realized he’d need to double down to get everything cleaned and proper before Charlie got home. He rushed to sort and fold Charlie’s laundry, put it away in her dresser and closet, vacuum her living room carpet, and take a quick shower with barely enough time to take a breather on her couch.
He sat with his phone, checking messages and catching up on the day’s news. Charlie hadn’t messaged him so he assumed she was on her way home, and just a few minutes later he heard thudding on her door. He got off her couch, walked over, and looked through the peephole to see Charlie standing at the door, holding her bag and a pizza box. She stood, her shoulder-length hair already let down and falling messily around her chin, her makeup done in a light and professional manner.
M felt a flush of arousal just seeing Charlie, and for the first time since his rush to finish cleaning was reminded of his chastity cage’s presence. After two weeks of continual wear, M was forgetting about it more often during his busy moments, as it was simply becoming a fact of life. It was no longer a constant hindrance in his life, but rather a convenient reminder of his servitude during idle times and brief flashes of arousal like the one he felt gazing through the peephole.
He unlocked the door and opened it, standing behind it, partially to make way for Charlie and partially to hide his nudity to others who might see. Charlie stepped in, muttering a quick and casual “good boy”, and kept walking past him without a glance. M shut and locked the door behind her, watching Charlie’s butt and thighs jiggle beneath her scrub pants as she walked through her living room. He felt his cock already starting to leak precum again, as she dropped her bag on her couch, stepped quickly into the kitchen to set down the pizza, and walked straight into her bathroom without shutting the door.
M heard Charlie peeing, and she groaned loudly from the relief. She called out from the bathroom, “set the table and get me a cider from the fridge, please”.
“Okay,” M replied, walking into the kitchen.
“What was that?” Charlie asked, and M could hear the sudden edge in her voice. Her casualness walking through the apartment and straight into the bathroom set M at ease, causing him for a moment to forget their dynamic. They had only known each other for a month and a half and this was their fifth meeting, and M was still balancing the various levels of protocol Charlie expected depending on situation; being it was just the two of them in her apartment, naturally she’d expect better than “okay”.
“Yes, mistress,” M said, “sorry”. It still felt strange calling Charlie that; M thought it would take longer for her to expect it of him, or at least to have been more pomp and circumstance. Still, she hadn’t collared him or broached the topic, indicating to him that even though they were using honorifics, she didn’t consider the dynamic settled or there to be any level of commitment yet. But it was, like the cage around his cock and his presence in her apartment alone, a good sign that put him at ease.