A day time life

Kyle sat in the middle of the weekly sales team meeting, nodding politely as his manager droned on about quarterly targets. He wore a standard light blue button-down and khaki slacks the uniform of a completely average man. On the outside, he looked exactly like the Kyle Nutt everyone expected: quiet, reliable, slightly soft around the middle, with an unremarkable face that blended into any crowd.

Inside, he was screaming.His tiny pink chastity cage was locked tight around his micro-clit. The smooth metal pressed relentlessly against his shrunken two-and-a-half-inch penis, a constant, intimate reminder of who he really was at night. Every small shift in his chair caused the cage to tug gently on his smooth, shaved balls, sending unwanted sparks of humiliating pleasure up his spine. His hole still slightly sore and loose from last night’s pounding clenched around the small plug he hadn’t had the willpower to remove before work.Just be normal, he told himself, clenching his jaw.

You’re Kyle. Not Kylie. Not that **** cum-dump in a sundress.Rachel sat directly across the table, legs crossed, a knowing little smirk on her face. She caught his eye and slowly dragged the tip of her pen across her lips, mimicking the way she’d deepthroated his caged clit through the bars two nights ago. Kyle’s micro penis twitched uselessly in its prison, leaking steadily into his underwear.He felt his face heat up. Stop it. You’re at work. You’re a man.But the memories wouldn’t stop. Vanessa bending him over the makeup counter. Dominique’s massive cock stretching him open on stage. The way he had moaned like a whore while his soft little clitty flopped uselessly between his thick thighs.“Kyle? Your thoughts on the new client strategy?” his manager asked.He snapped back to reality. “Uh, yes, I think we should focus on… building long-term relationships,” he managed, voice steady despite the plug pressing against his prostate.

Rachel’s smirk widened.Lunchtime was worse.He tried to eat a normal sandwich at his desk, but Rachel cornered him again in the supply closet like clockwork. She didn’t even lock the door.“Lift your shirt,” she whispered.

Kyle obeyed, shame burning in his cheeks. Rachel pulled down the front of his slacks just enough to expose the pink cage.“Look at this poor little thing,” she cooed, flicking the cage with her fingernail. “Still so tiny. Still so soft. Does it miss being ignored while real cocks use you?” She stroked the exposed skin around the cage with one finger, teasing but never giving enough stimulation. Kyle’s micro-clit strained desperately, turning purple against the bars.

“Please… not here,” he whispered, even as his hips twitched forward.“You’re the one who wanted a double life, Kyle,” she said sweetly, pushing a finger against the plug through his pants, pressing it deeper. “You get to be boring salesman Kyle during the day… but we both know the truth. You’re just waiting until tonight so you can be Kylie again.”She dropped to her knees, pulled the cage aside, and sucked his entire soft micro penis into her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming. Kyle had to bite his fist to stay quiet as she nursed on his pathetic little clit like a pacifier, tongue swirling while she pressed firmly on the plug in his ass.

He came in less than forty seconds — a weak, humiliating dribble that Rachel swallowed with exaggerated pleasure.“Good boy,” she whispered, licking her lips as she stood. “Keep that plug in all day. I want you leaking and **** when you come see us tonight.”

The afternoon dragged on in exquisite ****.Every phone call, every email, every trip to the bathroom became a battle. In the stall, Kyle stared down at his caged micro-clit and the small pink plug still buried in his ass. He tried to stroke himself to “normal” thoughts big tits, pussy, being the one doing the fucking. Nothing. His tiny dick stayed completely soft until he gave in and imagined Dr. Voss and Vanessa spit-roasting him again.

Only then did it twitch pathetically inside the cage.He hated how easily he leaked now. A constant wet spot stained his underwear. He hated how his nipples had become sensitive from the hormones he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop taking. He hated how, deep down, part of him was already counting the hours until he could put the sundress back on. And at 5 PM, he was a wreck. His hole ached around the plug. His micro-clit was swollen and frustrated inside its prison. His mind was a whirlwind of shame, arousal, and crushing repression.On the drive home, he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“I can control this,” he muttered. “I’m Kyle Nutt. I have a normal life. I’m not going to dress up tonight. I’m not going to suck cock. I’m not—”His phone buzzed. A video from Vanessa. It was last night’s footage Kylie on her knees, eyes rolled back in bliss, soft micro-clit dripping while two thick girl-cocks used her holes.

Caption: “See you at 9, princess. Don’t be late.”

Kyle stared at the video until he had to pull over. His hand trembled as he reached down and pressed on the plug through his slacks, letting out a broken whimper.

He knew he would be there at 9 PM.Dressed as Kylie. Ready to be used.The repression during the day only made the surrender at night that much sweeter and more devastating.