Chapter Seven
On Monday morning, I woke to the alarm clock from a troubled and minimally restorative sleep. The first thing I did was to call work and tell the boss I wouldn’t be in – I was sick. This was no lie. Besides the wounds that still partially crippled me – my bruised and horribly swollen testicles foremost – I was suffering a profound emotional and psychological crisis that was just as debilitating.
I remembered staggering to my car, getting in and driving away. I made it about a block before pulling over on a stretch empty of streetlights, climbing back out and pissing for what seemed like an age. To do this without soiling myself I was forced to perch on the curb, hold onto the car door and squat splay-legged like a girl. Clearly being locked into a chastity device would requ
