Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 20.

I sat on the plane, aware of every mile of the distance closing between New York and Montreal. I felt a strange combination of feelings, all jumbled up and floating in a light marinade of gin and tonic.

To my surprise and relief after suitably begging Devina to allow me release from the evil confines of the chastity device, I had agreed that immediately upon my return I would taxi directly to her place where once more she would securer the lock and leave me in humiliating chastity once again. She’d been quite understanding, realising that trying to get through airport security would be both embarrassing (for which she cared nothing) and impossible (which would likely cost me a lucrative piece of business).

She had acquiesced after I had sworn to surrender myself on my return. I’ll admit there may have been some small amount of grovelling, and some tears, but she had indeed showed a softer side of herself after I’d surrendered both my driving licence and the keys to my car. It seemed a fair trade, all things considered. I even got to swing by Mandy’s apartment, given her a welcome home she would savour for a few days, and then taxi home, carless but careless.

Steve picked me up the following morning and we’d had a successful meeting in New York, and secured the account for the agency. Our agency. I liked the sound of that. Indeed were…