Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 33.

“I’ll be over later,” was all Devina had said when she dropped me off from the airport. She gave no particular explanation, but then why would she? She knew I was in no position to argue about anything.

It’s a very strange thing to feel oneself forced into total compliance. For some, the concept of bondage is accompanied by leather and chains.

“Make no mistake,” I thought to myself, “there are other forms of bondage that are far more effective.”

I would describe the sense that there was no resisting Devina as being something akin to be resigned to compliance. There was simply no reasonable alternative. This was a path down which I would walk, willingly or not. So I might as well go quietly. The presence of the chastity device was almost irrelevant. Sure enough, it provided an undeniable physical block to even the most insignificant sexual pleasure, but had Devina told me not to allow myself a physical release I feel sure it would have been equally effective. I simply had no will to resist.

And yet, as I put away the few things I’d brought back from Miami, I found myself marveling at the fact that, despite all these episodes, I actually looked forward to Devina returning. She’d got so far inside my head as a tormentor and temptress, even as a saviour by springing me from the legal snares I’d fallen into.