Chapter 39: Checklist and Consequences
The rest of the day crawled by. Amber had left me alone with my task list and a standing rule: finish everything before nightfall, or she'd pick the punishment herself.
I checked the list again:
Morning kneel ✔
Makeup & mantra ✔
Plug insertion ✔
Vacuum entire apartment
Wash and fold Mistress's lingerie
Write 3 gratitude sentences
Anal edging on the fuck machine for 3 hours
Record video repeating "My cock is unnecessary" 30 times
I took a deep breath and got to work.
The vacuuming wasn't hard, but doing it with a plug shifting inside me and a cage pressing tightly against my aching balls made everything feel more intense. I bent, lifted, moved, and cleaned while trying to avoid letting my cock leak from the constant friction.
Next was laundry.
Amber's panties were already sorted into a delicate bag with a label: "Only hand wash. Be gentle. Be respectful."
I did my best. Each piece felt sacred, intimate, humiliating to touch. Lacy thongs, soft bralettes, mesh barely-there pieces. I folded each item neatly and placed them in the drawer labeled "Usewear."
The next line on the list stopped me.
Gratitude entries.
I sat at the vanity and opened the pink notebook.
I thought about what I was grateful for.
I wrote:
I'm grateful to be useful.
I'm grateful for my cage and how small it makes me feel.
I'm grateful that Mistress lets me live like this.
The words looked silly at first. But the more I stared at them, the more I felt them. I really was grateful. For this purpose. For this structure. For her.
Then came the hardest task.
Anal edging on the fuck machine for 3 hours.
The machine was already set up in the corner, cleaned and glistening. The dildo waiting was thick but not brutal, curved just enough to hit exactly where it needed to. The base blinked, waiting to be powered on.
I lubed up, positioned myself, and lowered my body until the tip kissed my hole. With a slow push downward, I took it in, inch by inch, until I was fully seated. Then I strapped myself in, arms behind my back, legs locked into position. My cage was tight, tiny, just the tip of my cock peeking out.
I pressed the start button with my chin.
The machine began at a slow rhythm. Deep thrusts. Steady and controlled.
After ten minutes, it sped up slightly. After twenty, it started to tease—pulling almost all the way out, then slamming back in with force that made my hips shake.
By the first hour, I was whimpering. I could feel the pressure in my balls building. The cage throbbed with every thrust, but there was no room to grow. No touch. No escape.
The second hour was worse. The machine pulsed faster, sometimes stopping mid-thrust to hold me there, quivering, before starting again with a new pattern. My body started to move on its own. I rocked back into each stroke, chasing something I knew I wasn't allowed to have.
By the third hour, I was a wreck. My ass was raw, my legs trembling, my cock twitching inside the tiny metal shell. My balls felt swollen, heavy, painfully tight with denied release.
When the timer beeped and the machine powered down, I collapsed forward onto the floor, breathing heavy, drooling into the cushion below me.
I undid the straps with shaking fingers.
Still one task left.
Record video.I opened my phone camera, turned it to selfie mode, and whispered:
"My cock is unnecessary."One time.Five.Ten.
By thirty, I was a sobbing, aching, broken mess. I hit stop. Saved the video. Sent it to Amber.
Two minutes later, she stepped into the room holding a tiny box. She was smiling.
"Good girl. You finished everything."
She opened the box and revealed a new cage. Smaller than any before. Shiny. Hollow tip. Just enough room for my head to stick out.
"Time for your reward."
She clicked it on.
I looked down. My cock was now reduced to a tiny, controlled nub barely peeking from the metal. My balls hung huge beneath it. Heavy. Denied.
Amber leaned in, brushing a kiss to my lips.
"Keep up the good work, and maybe I'll schedule a little appointment for you. Something to make this shrinkage permanent."
She paused. Smiled wider.
"But that's for tomorrow."