Title: Royal Voluntary Service — Chapter 2
Author: GrandpasGoodBoi
Simon drove home in a daze, visions of everything he’d just witnessed flashing through his mind. He was still in this sort of fugue state as he pulled up on his parents’ drive, entered the house and walked upstairs, grunting some sort of greeting to both of them as he went. As he finally entered his room and plopped down on his bed, he felt reality returning to him, as if gravity had suddenly been switched on again. What had just happened? Was it a dream? Was it real?
A quick look inside his pants told him it had been all too real. The pink plastic cock cage practically beamed back up at him. Such a bright colour, he thought. I’d better make sure not to wear white underwear, this will show straight through...
He shook his head. Really, that was his first thought? How about getting out of this thing?! He pulled on it. No good. Tried to separate the two plastic shells of the cage. The rigid plastic didn’t yeild even a millimetre. He bit his lip. Could he cut it off? The thought gave him the shivers. This was a job for more than scissors, he’d need to use a heavy duty blade. Would he be happy using that so close to his junk?
He slouched back on his bed in resignation. No chance. Looks like he was stuck like this for a week, unless he wanted to get his parents or the police involved. He immediately wrote off both options. He’d die of embarrassment showning anyone this, never mind his parents, or god forbid a police officer. They’d have to take pictures, a statement...no way was he doing that.
Just as he was coming to this conclusion, his phone vibrated, snapping him out of his reverie. It was surely just his imagination, but the buzz signalling a new message sounded stronger than usual. Nonsense, he thought, it’s the same alert no matter who the message is from. But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Somehow, he knew exactly who this message was going to be from, and in the quiet of his room, the thrummm of the phone just seemed more authorative than usual. It had an air of impatience. Like it demanded to be answered. Like it was saying “Boy, read this message NOW”.
Slightly flustered, he grabbed the phone, dropping it in his hurry and picking it up again as fast as he could. As he thought, the message was from John, altough he hadn’t saved his number as a contact yet. He licked his suddenly dry lips and opened the message.
It was only three words. “Tidy your room”.
Simon’s brow furrowed. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but not this. What on earth did it mean. He was hesitant to answer back to this man, but he had so many questions. He texted back.
“What? We need to talk about this afternoon. Anyway, how do you know my room isn’t already tidy, and what business is that of yours??”
A slight delay before the next message. For some reason, Simon could feel his heart beating in his chest. He read over the message he had sent a couple of times. Nothing unreasonable there. And anyway why should he feel the need to be reasonable in this situation? Why did he feel such trepidation just asking a simple question.
The phone buzzed in his hand, sending a jolt down his arm and through his body.
“We’ll talk next week in person. For now just do as I say. Send pictures before and after”
Simon frowned. That hadn’t really answered anything.
He looked around the room. It actually was quite messy. A typical teenagers room. Chair and floor used as a wardrobe. Every exposed surface covered with miscellania. Bed unmade.
Hmph, Simon grunted. John had made a lucky guess then. He shrugged. Nothing better to do. But to his surprise he found himself taking the ‘before’ picture as instructed...
Half an hour later, Simon was snapping the ‘after’ photo too. He smiled with a little satisfaction. The room looked a lot better, and it hadn’t even taken that long. He sent the photos to John.
Buzz buzz. Simon was looking forward to this message. He knew he’d done a good job. Instead, it was just one word.
“Vaccuumed?”
Simon’s mouth hung open for a second. Well, no, he hadn’t hoovered up. He didn’t know that was part of the...instruction? Task? Whatever, John had just said ‘tidy’ and he had done that. He replied in the negative. The reply came immediately.
“Hoover up. Offer your parents to do their rooms and the rest of the house”
Simon got a strange feeling in his stomach at this second part. He didn’t mind...whatever this was...when it was just between him and John, but this felt like it was pushing it just a little bit further, involving his parents like this. But he turned it over in his head. Offering to hoover up? They’d probably find it a bit strange, but they’d never suspect that this was part of some weird game between him and the old man he delivered food to once a week. He quickly decided that it was ok, and the strange tingle in his stomach dissipated. He went to fetch the hoover.
Later that evening, Simon wiped the sweat from his brow. His parents had been delighted at his offer, and now the house was spotless. He told mum and dad that he’d grab a quick shower before bed.
He’d been so busy for the last couple of hours that he’d completely forgotten about his, erm, predicament. But standing naked in the bathroom it all came flooding back. Looking in the mirror, the fluorescent pink of the cock cage shone back at him. It was almost dazzling. He needed to text John.
“I did what you asked. The house has been hoovered from top to bottom, but now I’m trying to have a shower, and I’m still stuck in this cage! What do I do??”
Simon sat on the toilet, waiting for a reply. I hope he doesn’t take to long, he thought. However, as soon as the thought formed in his brain, another one flashed out of a different part of him—how dare you expect him to reply straight away.
He blinked. Where had that come from? All he had been thinking was that it would be nice if he got a reply soon, since he was sat here getting cold. Again, a bolt from somewhere deep within him flashed back angrily—you will wait here, naked, as long as he wants you to, understand?, and don’t you fucking complain.
Again, he blinked and shook his head. What the hell? He shivered at these thoughts, simultaneously intrusive voices, but at the same time undeniably his own feelings welling up deep inside him.
Was the shiver from the cold? No. He knew it was something else. Arousal...
The phone startled him back to reality with a buzz.
“Good boy. No need to remove the cage, you can shower with it on. Be sure to wash all areas, but rinse the soap away thoroughly once you’re done.”
His cheeks flushed at being told he was a good boy. A new message followed quickly.
“Send pictures before and after”
This time he felt his whole body flush red. Time to ask himself, was he really into this? Sending pictures would really be crossing a line. He paced up and down the bathroom.
He couldn’t deny he was enjoying each interaction with John. In fact every message gave him a giddy thrill. But his mind flashed back to that afternoon and the other boys in his harem. Is that really what he wanted? Because clearly that’s where this was going if he kept going.
Maybe I can go a bit further, he thought. Send the pictures without his face in view? That would give him complete deniability if it ever came to it, so he couldn’t be blackmailed.
That seemed ok. He would go a bit further, but he could still back out if he wanted to. He set the timer on his camera phone and, standing in the same ‘at ease’ stance the other boys had adopted in John’s kitchen—legs shoulder width apart, hands behind back—snapped a sweaty ‘before picture’.
He looked at it. In his embarrassment, his pale skin was flushing almost the same colour as the pink cock cage. But as he pressed ‘send’, he found that his only thought was that he hoped John liked it.
Two words came the reply—“Good boy”. Simon moaned, and bit his lip. He felt his member trying to stiffen in the cage. You’re really into this, aren’t you, you little perv, he thought to himself.
He jumped in the shower and washed himself thoroughly. Usually he just did the hair and a rudimentary bit of shower gel under the armpits, but today he took his time. As instructed, he used soap all over, exfoliating and scrubbing off the sweaty skin. He took particular care and attention to the cage, rubbing all the accessible areas with soap and shower gel, and then blasting away the suds with the shower head on max power. He really wanted to avoid that area getting clammy and irritated, as he was suddenly very aware of the fact that the cage would not be coming off for at least seven days.
Toweling off, he wiped the condensation off the mirror and checked himself out. A little doughy aroung the midriff, but by no means fat. Simon could see that his skin was practically glowing with cleanliness. He smiled with some satisfaction (John would be pleased), and set up the camera phone for the ‘after’ picture. He sent it off immediately, but decided to go back to his room before waiting for a reply. He’d already spent so long in the bathroom, his parents would be getting suspicious. If only they knew that what he normally did in the bathroom around this time was completely off limits at the moment, he chuckled to himself.
Making sure to wrap the towel thoroughly. He made his way back to his bedroom. On arrival he furtively checked his phone. Sure enough, a message was waiting for hime.
Again, two words—“Good boy”. He licked his lips and closed his eyes, savouring the praise like a sip of fine wine. That was all he needed.
As he put his pyjamas on and got into bed, Simon realised that he still hadn’t saved John’s number as a contact. He went to the new contact feature and typed in “John”. As his thumb hovered over the ‘save’ button, he paused. That didn’t seem right somehow. He went back and deleted it, and then slowly, one letter at at a time, typed in the name field “S....I....R”. There, he thought. That felt a lot better. He pressed ‘save’, shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
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