making sure he knows who he‘s working for with a little caging and slapping

Marc is my bosses son. He’s 26, shorter and a little awkward, with long brown hair and those soft greenish eyes that still go wide every time I push him. I’ve been his dom for 3 months now. I keep him locked in a tight steel chastity cage during the workweek and train him to edge for hours without ever letting him cum. He always shows up desperate and obedient the second I text.

Last night I told him we had to stay late to finish a big project. We were the only ones left in the entire office. I made him wait in the glass-walled conference room on the 18th floor while I locked the main doors. The city lights twinkled outside the huge windows and the long meeting table gleamed under the dimmed overhead lights.

I stepped inside wearing a tight black pencil skirt and a silky white blouse that was already half-unbuttoned. Marc sat at the head of the table in his dress shirt and slacks, breathing fast. The steel cage was clearly straining under his pants after five full days locked.

“Hi, Mistress,” he whispered.

I walked over, cupped the cage through his slacks and squeezed his trapped balls hard until he gasped. I loved how he squirmed instantly in the fancy office chair. That little flinch always makes me so wet because I know exactly how badly he needs release.

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered when I asked if they were aching for me.

I slowly unbuttoned the rest of my blouse and let it fall open so my tits were on full display. Then I yanked his slacks and boxers down to his ankles. The cage came off with a single click of my key. His cock sprang out thick, veiny, and already leaking after almost a week of denial. I wrapped my hand around it and started with slow torturous strokes.

“First edge,” I said calmly. “Slap your own balls while I do it. Hard. And beg between every slap. Loud enough that it echoes in this fancy room.”

Marc reached down, cupped his heavy sack, and slapped. The sharp smack bounced off the glass walls. “Please, Mistress… let me hurt them for you…”

I stroked him faster, twisting at the head, then slowed right as his hips started to buck. He slapped harder and his eyes watered. I loved watching his face twist. That perfect mix of pain and desperate need made my pussy throb. Knowing we were alone in the empty office but anyone could still walk by the glass made everything even hotter.

“I’m your pathetic locked-up toy… please squeeze them… please kick them…”

I edged him like that for long minutes right there on the conference table. Slow strokes. Tight grips. My thumb circled the leaking tip and I stopped every single time he got close. Each edge forced him to slap his own balls harder. The wet cracks echoed through the room while tears ran down his cheeks. The sound of his own hand punishing his sack while he begged in his work clothes was making me drip down my thighs.

When his legs started shaking uncontrollably I made him stand up and bend over the long table. “Second edge. Stay bent over like a good office slut.”

I stood behind him, reached around, and pumped his cock in long firm strokes while my other hand worked his balls. Marc slapped them between my fingers and sobbed openly. “Mistress… I’m so close… please let me cum… no — please don’t let me cum… I’m begging you…”

Every time he neared the edge I squeezed his sack viciously. My nails dug into the swollen skin and I gave his balls a sharp little kick with the side of my heel. I got so aroused feeling him twitch and whimper against the cold table.

His desperation was pure fuel. The way his cock pulsed in my hand right before I denied him again made my clit ache.

After the second edge I had him lie on his back on the table with his legs spread wide toward the glass windows. “Third edge. On your back so the whole city can watch if they look up.”

I climbed onto the table, straddled his face, and lowered my wet pussy onto his mouth while I reached down and stroked him from above. “Slap them harder while you lick me. Count every slap out loud.”

Marc buried his tongue in me and licked desperately as he slapped his own balls.

“One… thank you, Mistress… Two… thank you, Mistress…” His voice vibrated perfectly against my clit with every count. I kept edging him with slow teasing strokes and stopped whenever his tongue sped up too much. I loved how his whole body trembled under me. It turned me on so much to feel him fighting the orgasm I refused to give him while the city skyline glowed behind us.

He made it to twenty-five slaps before his whole body trembled on the edge again. I pulled my hips back and slapped his balls myself. Three hard stinging smacks that made him cry out into the empty office.

“Fourth edge. Stand up and face the windows. Hands behind your head.”

Marc stood on shaky legs in front of the huge glass wall. I pressed my body against his back, reached around, and stroked him mercilessly while the city lights sparkled below. “Slap them yourself while I edge you. Loud enough for the whole building to hear if anyone’s still here.”

He reached down and slapped his swollen red balls over and over while I pumped him without mercy. I brought him right to the brink again and again. I squeezed them tight, twisted them, and kicked upward with my heel in sharp little taps that made his knees buckle. Every time he begged “Please let me cum, Mistress,” I answered by squeezing harder and telling him “Not yet.” The power rush was intoxicating. I could feel myself getting wetter with every broken sob.

After what felt like an hour of constant edging…bent over the table, on his back, facing the windows …his cock was purple and leaking nonstop. His balls were bright red and hugely swollen.

I finally sat on the edge of the table, pulled him between my spread legs, and stroked him fast and tight while looking him dead in the eyes.

“Last edge. Do not cum. Slap your balls as hard as you can and beg me to lock you back up for another two weeks.”

Tears streamed down his face as he slapped his tortured sack with everything he had. “Please, Mistress… lock me for another two weeks… I don’t deserve to cum… I’m your denied office ball toy… please hurt them more…”

I gave his balls one final brutal squeeze. My nails dug deep while my hand flew over his cock. He screamed and sobbed on the edge, body shaking violently, but he held it like the good boy I trained him to be.

“Good boy,” I whispered and kissed his tear-streaked cheek. I loved how completely broken and obedient he looked in his own workplace. It made me so fucking aroused knowing I could ruin him here any time I wanted.

I slid the steel cage back on his throbbing ruined cock and clicked the lock shut. “These belong to me. Clean up every drop you leaked onto the conference table with your tongue before we leave. And text me tomorrow morning when you’re locked and aching at your desk.”

I buttoned my blouse, smoothed my skirt, and walked out of the conference room with my head high. I was already planning how much longer I’ll keep him denied next time.