The restaurant buzzed with the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses. In the corner booth, Edward squirmed in his seat, the exquisite discomfort of the steel confinement beneath his clothes a constant reminder of his place. His heart raced as Mistress Veronica surveyed him with a gaze both predatory and amused, her presence commanding the space around them.
“You're restless tonight,” she remarked casually, swirling the wine in her glass. Her voice was laced with a playful menace that sent a shiver down his spine, a thrill that he both craved and feared.
“Yes, Mistress,” Edward replied, trying to conceal the tremor in his voice. The cage's spikes pressed against him with every shift, a wicked concoction of pain and pleasure designed to keep him on edge.
Mistress Veronica leaned closer, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I have something special for you,” she purred, producing a small, gleaming device from her purse. The spikes glinted under the restaurant's lights, a promise of the torment to come.
Edward's breath caught in his throat, the thrill of anticipation mingling with apprehension. He knew refusal was not an option; the very idea of disappointing her was unbearable. The chastity device was more than a tool of submission—it was her claim on him, a symbol of the power she wielded over his desires.
“I expect you to be obedient,” she whispered, her words a sultry caress against his ear. “Are you ready to prove your devotion?”
Swallowing hard, Edward nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “Yes, Mistress.”
Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Good. Now, to the restroom.”
Heart pounding, Edward rose from his seat, acutely aware of the cage with every step. The path to the restroom felt interminable, each footfall a prelude to the moment he'd surrender entirely to her whims. Behind the closed door, he faced the mirror, the room echoing with the sound of his breathing.
The removal of his current restraint was swift, the cool air a brief respite before the new device took its place. Mistress Veronica's deft hands were gentle yet unyielding as she secured the spiked cage, each click of the lock reverberating through him like a vow. A whimper escaped as the spikes settled against him, a potent mix of agony and ecstasy.
Returning to the table, Edward felt her gaze on him, a heat that burned through the veneer of public decorum. Every glance, every brush of her fingers on his skin was a reminder of the pact they shared—his surrender, her dominion.
“You're mine tonight,” she declared, her voice low and commanding.
Edward nodded, the steel's bite a delicious torment that sealed his fate. “Completely, Mistress.”