Chapter 1

 

I had been sitting in the bar for a little over half an hour before Caroline Maddox arrived. I had always thought it strange that, in the year that we had been together, Tara had never introduced me to her best friend but now, seeing Caroline for the first time, I began to understand why. I knew that she was a Brit specialising in metallurgy and, in my own mind, I had pictured someone dumpy and bespectacled. She certainly had glasses but there any similarity to my mental image ended. She was tall and the short skirt of her dark business suit showed off her athletic legs to devastating effect. As my eyes drifted upwards, her jacket hinted at a firm bust but it was her face that was her fortune. She put me mind of a young Elizabeth Taylor. She had piercing denim blue eyes over sculpted cheekbones and an enigmatic smile.

She immediately crossed over to me and held out her hand.

"You must be Campbell, I'm pleased to meet you at last."

Had it not been for my hopes that she was there to broker a reconciliation with Tara I would have been smitten. In the event she brought bad news. Tara was still livid and I suppose, if I was honest with myself, with just cause. When I started dating her she made it clear that her job as a research scientist with the USAF involved a lot of travel. I assured her that I was comfortable with that but it was the secrecy that got to me. She was not allowed to talk about her work and, sometimes, the trips to undisclosed destinations were open-ended. She phoned as often as she could, offering reassurance, but my jealous mind painted its own lurid interpretations.

In all I was unfaithful three times. They were all one night stands and the sex was empty and meaningless. I told myself that it was Tara's fault, that she should have been there to fulfil my needs, and I suppose, unconsciously I wanted to be found out. She was sorting through the pockets of one of my suits before it was collected by the cleaners and she found a drug store receipt that listed some totally unnecessary contraceptives. She packed her bags and left that same afternoon.

It was three weeks before she eventually called and I missed her every single minute.

It turned out that she had asked Caroline to act as an intermediary. We had a number of joint possessions in the apartment and Caroline was there to agree an amicable split. As we got down to discussing individual CD's and DVD's I grew more and more morose and I was knocking back drinks without counting.

"Campbell, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine ... well ... I guess you understand."

She flashed me a sympathetic smile.

"Have you eaten?"

"No, but I'm okay."

She got to her feet and took hold of my hand.

"Come with me. I'm going to buy you dinner."

Caroline proved to be a great listener and, as I continued to drink more wine than was good for me, I found myself more and more attracted to her. After the meal she offered to drive me home and only then did I realise the extent to which she had remained abstemious. She saw me safely up to my apartment and, just as she started to say goodbye, I took hold of her arm.

"Come in for coffee."

"Campbell, I shouldn't."

"Please, Caroline."

"Okay. Coffee, but it will have to be quick. I've got an early start in the morning."

I don't know what came over me. Perhaps it was simply that she had accepted the invitation. I read signals that just were not there. As she closed the door behind her I took hold of her around the waist and tried to kiss her.

"Campbell, No!"

"Please, Caroline. You know I find you attractive."

I took hold of her hand and guided it to the front of my trousers where, notwithstanding the amount of alcohol I had consumed, I still managed to sport an impressive erection.

"Sit down! I'll make coffee."

She pushed me from her forcibly and I fell into the sofa. She stormed into the kitchen muttering under her breath.

"Tara was right ..."

She looked a little calmer when she returned a few minutes later with a tray bearing two cups and I made a drunken attempt at an apology and begged her not to tell Tara what had happened.

After that I have no recollection. I woke up the following morning in my own bed with my clothes folded neatly over the chair. My head felt twice its normal weight and I felt a desperate need for the toilet. I forced myself upright and turned back the duvet. That was when I saw it for the first time. It was a matt black tube a little over three inches long which encircled my penis, leaving just the head exposed. I stared at it in bafflement for a few seconds and then gingerly tried to pull it off. Only then did I realise that it was kept in place by a loop of the same dull material which was closed around the top of my ball sac. My heart beat a little faster but I did not panic. Clearly, it could not be slipped off and so, logically, there must be some form of catch. I felt quite ludicrous as I started to examine it in detail but grew more worried when I could find no evidence of a seam let alone any sort of mechanism.

I took a deep breath and started again. On the underside of the tube there were two small silver protuberances, but they did not seem to serve any useful purpose nor would they move in any direction. I then resorted to brute force and tried to force the loop open but I was hampered insofar as I could only insert the tips of two fingers. I had now started to sweat a little and my bladder was making its presence felt with a vengeance. I walked to the toilet tentatively. The tube was not heavy but such weight as it did have made it mildly uncomfortable. I found it hard to relax my bladder but, when it did come, it came with a rush and the resultant swelling made the process painful but, at the same time, it was a great relief.

I went back out into the bedroom and tried to get my thoughts in order. Caroline must have fitted the device whilst I slept. Had she waited for me to fall asleep? I suspected not and that led to a more sinister turn of thought. Had she slipped something into my coffee? This was obviously something more than a joke and the tube itself was certainly no novelty store item. That meant that there was a more malicious intent and the inescapable conclusion was that Tara was behind it.

It was time to get serious. I went into the kitchen and took out my toolbox from under the sink. I set out what I needed on the kitchen table and then, as an afterthought, I went back to the bedroom to fetch a couple of clean handkerchiefs. I pulled the handkerchiefs through the loop around my balls to provide what protection I could and then I went to work. My first try was a pair of electrical wire cutters but, whilst the loop appeared to be vulnerably thin, it resisted my best efforts. My second attempt was with a hammer and chisel. I steadied my manhood on a wooden chopping board and, setting the chisel in place on the loop, I hit it as hard as I could. The resultant jarring made me yell in pain but the loop remained completely unmarked.

I was getting more and more angry but I remained rational. I was tempted to try a drill but the tube's curved surface would offer no purchase and there would be a build up of heat. No doubt there would be people with the appropriate tools but it was going to be embarrassing to approach them. Unfortunately, it appeared that my best, immediate, hope would be Tara. I assumed that there was a method in her madness, and, whilst I would find it galling, I was going to have to call her up.

I called the research facility number and felt the first twinges of unease when I was told that Tara was travelling. Even though I claimed a domestic crisis they refused to tell me when she would be back. I asked instead for Caroline, who I knew worked in a different physics lab on the same site, but was advised that Dr. Maddox was not taking calls.

I had two choices. Either seek out someone with the right tools or wait for Tara to return. I elected for the latter. I was guessing that she was trying to teach me a lesson and perhaps, just maybe, she would be prepared to forgive.

I showered and dressed for work and was relieved to see that the tube was not obvious under my clothes, but there was no way it could be ignored. With every mile in the car and with every step I took on the way up to my office I was reminded of its sinister presence. I sat at my desk but could not concentrate. Every few minutes I would surreptitiously put my hand down to check that I was not dreaming but it was mid-morning when my problems really started.

Donald was a friend of mine of long standing even though he worked for a rival agency. He was in the habit of sending e-mails, usually containing dirty jokes, but sometimes a pornographic image trawled from the net. When I was down over my split with Tara he tried to fix me up with Cheryl, one of the associates at his firm. I was not really interested, even though Cheryl was a looker, but I had never seen her looking quite like this. The image that Don sent that morning had Cheryl's face cleverly superimposed onto a deliciously naked female form with hands holding breasts in 'come hither' fashion.

In the space of seconds I went from the familiar sensation of burgeoning erection to a strangled pain. I had to get up from the desk and clamp my teeth to prevent myself from crying out. I suppose this inevitability should have been obvious to me but, up to that point, my main worry had been to do with my ability to use the toilet. From then on the day became a nightmare. All those things that I took for granted day in and day out suddenly assumed a new significance. The casual glances at a good pair of legs, or a nice pair of breasts, even the mild flirting at the coffee machine, all of these things suddenly came at a price. I am sure that these things had excited me equally in the past, even if only subconsciously, but now my awareness was heightened and the consequences were dire.

I phoned the facility at least once an hour that first day but the answer remained the same. By day two I was getting desperate. I started trawling the internet for any information I could find about chastity belts and made a few tentative phone calls. I found a couple of locksmiths who said that they would be prepared to take a look but when I described the device to them they did not sound encouraging. On the third day I was so desperate I went into the company toilets and tried to masturbate. This is not something I make a habit of but I was being made so aware of my penis the whole time. As it turned out it was a futile attempt. If I moved the tube it hurt my balls and stroking my exposed glans simply lead to a painfully thwarted erection.

I went back to my office and told my secretary that I was taking the next two days off. Whatever it took I was going to find someone to remove the infernal contraption. That same evening, at home, I felt my feelings towards Tara begin to sour. She might have had a point to make but three days was way beyond a joke. I was just considering staking out the facility the following morning to watch for Caroline Maddox when the doorbell rang.

I opened it and my heart leapt. Standing in the doorway was Tara. She had changed. Her blond hair was cut shorter and her make-up was done differently. At twenty-nine she was five years older than me but she could pass for twenty with ease; but, with her new look, there was no doubting her age. She looked every inch the self-confident professional. In her stilettos she stood only a little shorter than me and the long skirt that she wore, buttoned down the front, only served to accentuate her height. She had on a dark blouse with a bolero style jacket and, not for the first time, I conjectured that she might have been visiting a Muslim country.

In those first seconds I had such mixed emotions that I was struck dumb.

"Aren't you going to ask me in?"

I stood to one side and she came into the apartment. She went straight into the living room and took a seat on her favourite sofa.

"Let me see it."

My need to kiss her was almost as strong as my impulse to strangle her but I did neither. I just stood there and lowered my trousers.

"Come closer."

I walked forward and she lifted the tube delicately, using just a single finger.

"Very pretty."

"Tara! What the hell is this all about!"

"Campbell, we both know full well what this is about."

I tried to be conciliatory.

"Please, Tara, let's just start again. Take this thing off and I'll show you how much I've missed you."

"Missed me, Campbell, or missed sex?"

"That's not fair!"

"Fair, Campbell? I'm not the one who was unfaithful."

I decided that I would call her bluff.

"Tara, it's very simple. You either want to get back together or you don't. Either way I'm going to have this thing removed ..."

She sat calmly and gave me a smile the like of which I had never seen before.

"Yes it is simple, but not quite in the way that you think. You still have some potential; you just need a little guidance and discipline. I am prepared to train you."

For a second or two I was at a loss for a reply. She was talking as though to some sort of performing animal.

"What the hell do you mean, "train"?"

"Exactly that. If you behave yourself and do exactly as I ask then I might allow you a little relief from time to time."

Now I was getting angry. My next question was almost snarled.

"And the alternative?"

"I'll walk out of here and you will never see me again."

I had had enough.

"If that's what you want then go! I'll get this thing cut off and I'll mail it to you."

"That might be a little difficult I'm afraid."

I felt a twinge of unease.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I won't bore you with the science but the tube is made of something we've nicknamed "memory metal". It's a development that Caroline is working on for the next generation of fighter aircraft. They will have intelligent wings which will constantly alter their shape to retain an optimum flying attitude. It's actually made up of tens of thousands of tiny magnets all bound together. Now, you could cut through it with a diamond tipped drill but we estimate that it would need at least three hundred revolutions per second. At that speed you would be generating temperatures in excess of two hundred degrees centigrade and there is no way you could dissipate that sort of heat fast enough to save your skin." I could see that she was enjoying giving her explanation. "Alternatively, you could find yourself a laboratory with a ruby laser. Unfortunately, you would still have the problem of heat."

As the implications slowly came home to me it must have shown in my features and her smile broadened. I tried to keep my voice steady.

"Are you saying it can't be removed."

She paused for a few seconds before answering and I could feel my heart rate increasing.

"It can be taken off. You just need the right key."

So saying she opened her bag and took out a second tube. It was appreciably larger than the one I was trapped in and I wondered if this was a subliminal taunt. She also took out something that resembled a tuning fork and the purpose of the silver protuberances on the bottom of the tube became clear. She touched the fork to the two dimples.

"When the correct current is applied some of the magnets are induced to lose their memory."

Nothing obvious had happened but she put down the fork and put her fingers into the tube's fixing ring, With an obvious effort she began to pull and, very slowly, the loop grew wider until it was large enough to slip over an average scrotal sac. As a final demonstration she flattened the tube in the palm of her hands.

"... and now the clever part."

She applied the fork again with a magician's panache and, even as I watched, the loop closed and the tube regained its shape.

I could no longer restrain myself. I lunged forward and grabbed the fork, yanking it from her hand. I touched the two prongs to the dimples on my own restraint and then started to pull at the loop. It took me a good ten seconds before I realised that nothing had happened. The loop was as rigid as it ever had been. I touched the fork to the tube repeatedly but it was to no avail. I sweated and growled as I tried, in vain, to make an impression.

Tara began to laugh.

"You didn't think that there would be one key for all? This is my part of the project. The current has to be delivered in precisely controlled bursts. In effect it is a form of encryption. If we didn't do that the enemy would simply blitz our aircraft with broad spectrum radiation until they folded and fell from the sky."

"So where's the bloody key!"

"It's safe, that's all you need to know."

I took a deep breath and tried to marshal my chaotic thoughts. My anger was boiling over but there still seemed to be the tantalising prospect of some form of reconciliation.

"So where do we go from here."

"Right now, you make me something to eat and then we'll discuss my moving back in."

I went to the kitchen and prepared a quick pasta dish with a ready-made sauce. I brought it through to the dining area where Tara was already well into a Chianti Classico. I was about to sit when she pulled me up short.

"Hold on a moment. We just need to set a few ground rules, the first of which is that you will remain undressed at all times."

"You must be joking!"

"Try me. Either you get undressed or I leave."

My feelings about her mental state were best kept to myself but I had to play along. I began to take off my clothes whilst she sat dispassionately and watched. I had undressed in front of her hundreds of times before but now, for reasons I could not fathom, I felt a sense of embarrassment.

The meal was surreal. Tara asked me about my job and the things that had happened in my life over the previous three days as though nothing untoward had happened. I rustled up some Hagen Daz for dessert and then served coffee. Tara got up from the table and stretched.

"I'm beat. Get into bed and wait for me. I'm going for a quick shower."

For the first time in a while I felt a renewed sense of optimism. I lay beneath the quilt listening as Tara sang to herself in the shower and then, a few minutes later, she reappeared in the bedroom. She wore a diaphanous nightdress which was cut low across her ample breasts and was just long enough to spare her modesty.

"Did you miss me?"

She said it in the mischievous way that had, so often, been the prelude to our lovemaking in the past and, despite myself, I let out a groan as the restraint choked the start of my erection. Tara whipped back the quilt to see for herself.

"Oh babe, I guess that must hurt."

The head of my penis was an angry purple and I wondered if it was possible to burst a blood vessel down there. I reached out with the back of my hand and stroked her arm.

"Tara. please, let's stop this nonsense. I want us to be a couple again."

She stroked my hair.

"You've got to earn my forgiveness."

"But I explained about the others, they didn't mean anything, that's all behind me."

Her face tightened and her voice took a harder edge.

"You are only in this predicament because you failed the test."

"What test!?"

"You tried to fuck my best friend! If you hadn't invited her in she wouldn't have had a chance to fit it."

I stared at her open mouthed.

"I was drunk! It was a misunderstanding."

"That's not the way Caroline tells it."

"Do you mean to say that if we had simply said good night you would have come back to me?"

She lay down in the bed with her back to me.

"I'll let you draw your own conclusions."

She switched off the light and very quickly her steady, shallow, breathing suggested that she was asleep. For me sleep would not come. I lay thinking through a hundred and one possibilities including the option of forcing Tara to tell me where the key was. More than once I spooned up to her but her familiar body heat and feel of her taut buttocks against my imprisoned manhood lead to immediate pain.