Follow Mitch's Day ...

Mitch watched helplessly as Brenda walked out the door; however, there was now a lingering hope that maybe his life would return to some sense of normalcy when she returned. He was grateful that Brenda had shown some compassion for his predicament, and didn't seem to harbor any real disgust towards him, nor the situation his actions had gotten them both into. They were a married couple, and they would get through this together. There was no doubt in his mind that it was going to be a long, rocky road, with much needed counseling; but as long as there was hope, there was something to hold onto.

With a sigh of relief he pulled his pants back up, finished his breakfast and cleaned everything up. Feeling somewhat relieved, gave Mitch a sense of energy, that he decided to transform into cleaning up the house. It was the least he could do for Brenda, to show her how much he loved her, and to show that he was truly sorry for getting into this mess.

He cleaned the kitchen, scrubbing the counters and mopping the floor. The dishes were put in the dishwasher and run in the meantime. When the kitchen was spotless, he went to the living room and vacuumed the carpets, dusted the shelves, and tidied up. He checked the dining room, which hadn't been used since the last time Mac visited, and noted that it didn't need any cleaning.

Standing in that room, however, reminded Mitch of the cruel indebtedness that still lingered over he and Brenda. Memories of how he was **** to watch her brutal fucking as he sat directly across from her suddenly filled his brain. The pain and anguish filled his soul once again. Mitch, however, was reminded how the scene also had oddly excited him, when his cock started to strain within the confines of his cage once again.

The pressure in his groin, broke his trance, bringing him back to the present. Mitch turned and walked away, suddenly realizing that he had gone all this time, while cleaning, never once actually thinking about the device encapsulating his manhood. He figured he was getting used to it, despite its intentions. Again, he tried his best to occupy himself with activities, rather than let his mind linger on his **** chastity

The awkwardness returned when he took the trash out and dragged the can to the curb. It was there that he was confronted by Jonathon Krieger, his next door neighbor, who was doing the same thing, their separate driveways meeting curbside. Jon was quick to inquire as to Mitch's whereabouts as of late, reminding him that he's missed their weekly poker gatherings the past several weeks, and hasn't returned any phone calls. Mitch stood stoically for a few minutes, trying to concoct a believable story without telling his neighbor the truth.

“Work's been kinda crazy lately, keeping me till late. When I get home, it's into the sack and start the next day. You know, no time to have fun and let loose,” Mitch swallowed the lump in his throat and reminded himself to breathe.

Jon responded with a jabbing punch into the shoulder, enough to knock Mitch somewhat off-balance. “C'mon man! Just say you've been banging the daylights outta your wife! I understand!” Jon took another jab, landing it in the same spot. “It's not like we can't imagine what it's like to be you! You're one lucky dude! If it was me, I'd be tapping that ass every chance I get!” Jon turned to start walking back up his drive, much to the delight of Mitch. He stopped momentarily and turned back to Mitch, “So, are we on for Thursday night? Poker and Football? Supposed to be at your place this week!”

Mitch was in turmoil once again. This is the kind of thing that got him into this big mess! It was true, he had abandoned the small group of men he spent time with on a regular basis, in order to get his house back in order, as well as his mental fortitude. He was frozen, unable to move, trying to decide how he should answer. In an almost robotic tone, he replied, “I dunno, with work and all … and Brenda's not too crazy about all the guys hanging around till late in the evening. I'll check with her and get back to you.”

Mitch knew it sounded lame, and that absolutely none of it would hold water with Jon, but it was all he could come up with, being put on the spot like that.

Of course, Jon's reply was curt and cutting. “Really man? Grow a real set and tell her the way it is! Ride her hard, put 'er away wet, and join your buddies for beer, food and fun!” Luckily for Mitch, Jon snorted and walked away.

Mitch silently returned to the house, locked himself inside and struggled with the emotions threatening to spill out. He questioned how he could have allowed things to have spiraled so out of control. He looked around and recollected how he had spent his afternoon, cleaning and dusting, running the vacuum, cooking, and doing dishes. They were hardly considered manly duties, yet he had willingly and excitedly done so. Running into Jon at the curb, listening to the comments he made, combined with the caged contraption covering his cock, truly made him wonder if he was 'the man of the house'?

He didn't want to answer that question, for he knew the truth would most likely crush him. Dejectedly, he went upstairs, and began cleaning what used to be his bedroom, but now belonged to Brenda, solely. The bed was stripped bare, all the bedding gathered and tossed down the steps for laundering. The evidence of last night's activities was still stain soaked into the material. New bedding linens were retrieved from the hallway and neatly spread out. It was impossible for Mitch to not relive the events while in the room, so he proceeded as quickly and efficiently as he could, in order to block out the memories.

When he was finished he went to the bathroom, gathered up her soiled clothing and joined it with the bedding. The smell of her perfume mingled with the smell of her sex, and Mitch couldn't restrain himself from sniffing her panties before tossing them aside. He was, again, reminded of his predicament when his penis began swelling within its confined space. He exhaled sharply and returned to quickly cleaning the bathroom, returning the room back into some semblance of normalcy. Only if one looked in the closet and drawers, would they realize that Mitch did not inhabit that room.

Three quick loads of laundry and Mitch was done for the day. It was early evening, and he just realized he had not eaten since breakfast, but more importantly, he had not turned on the television to watch a single sporting event. It was only in hindsight that Mitch realized the void in his routine. After making a quick sandwich, and grabbing a soda, Mitch retreated to his room and pondered what to watch on the small television he managed to fit into the room.

Mitch weighed his options for killing time until Brenda returned, hopefully with the key to end his ordeal. He plopped onto the twin bed and was faced with a decision … movie or sports? It was then that he spotted the video camera sitting on the table next to the television!

Could he? Should he? Oh his life was pure hell!