The Keyholder-Part Two: A Gentle Femdom Erotic Short Story

Adam’s heart leaped a little at the note, as did his cock, which he had managed to keep under control for most of the morning. And he rushed down the stairs with the key and Joyce’s note and let himself in to his new place.
Adam’s heart leaped a little at the note, as did his cock, which he had managed to keep under control for most of the morning. And he rushed down the stairs with the key and Joyce’s note and let himself in to his new place.

The next day, Adam collected his things from the dorm studio where he’d been living during his first year of graduate school. He hadn’t planned to move quite so quickly, but he wasn’t taking Joyce’s invitation lightly, and between yesterday’s excitement and the aching, delicious pressure of his cage, frankly, he couldn’t get there fast enough.

He didn’t have many belongings, just a bed, two side tables, a few lamps and his clothes, books and personal items. So, it turned out to be a good thing Joyce had the couch, now infamous forever in his mind. It was easy enough to rent a small U-haul, get a friend to help him load it, and he was at the apartment by mid-day.

He definitely did not forget his key.

Joyce’s key-he reminded himself, a wave of desire passing through him, as he stood outside her house.

He had a keyholder now.

It was entirely up to her how long he stayed caged, or not, how often he would have orgasms…if he would have orgasms at all.

He shuddered with uncertainty and want at the thought.

Standing there, he realized he didn’t actually have a key to his new place. Or a lease. Or anything that said he had a right to live there. And he wondered if maybe it had all been a dream or a cruel joke, and now he had nowhere to live.

What was more believable? That he’d accidentally stumbled upon not only a great apartment but an unbelievably hot woman who wanted to fulfill his deepest fantasies or that he’d been hit by a car crossing the street and was currently in the hospital with a concussion?

He considered this possibility for a moment, but then noticed a pink ribbon dangling from the top of the staircase to the basement apartment. He approached it, and saw that attached to the ribbon was a key, and an envelope with a note. Inside it said:


I had to run out. I’ll be very busy today, but you can be sure you’ll hear from me this evening. Your lease is in the apartment. Looking forward to our arrangement. 


Adam’s heart leaped a little at the note, as did his cock, which he had managed to keep under control for most of the morning. And he rushed down the stairs with the key and Joyce’s note and let himself in to his new place.

There was the couch, just as he’d left it yesterday. And Joyce’s red panties were still on the floor. It hadn’t been a dream. Or if was, he was still dreaming, and he didn’t want to wake up. He looked around guiltily, and then knowing he was alone and without being able to help himself, he picked them up and sniffed them.

Mmmmm.  His cock strained, and he stuck his hand down his pants and touched it over the metal cage. He could feel a little wetness seeping out of the hole, and he knew he was leaking remembering what Joyce’s pussy had tasted like all over his face, the way she had taken control of him and used him and how much he wanted her.

But his cock was hers now, he reminded himself. It wasn’t even up to him anymore. And just the thought made him excited and calm in equal measures.

He had to be calm. For her.

Because she hadn’t said he could take the cage off. She hadn’t said he could come. She hadn’t even said he could touch himself, he realized, and he pulled his hand out of his pants quickly.

He would be good! He would follow directions!

There were some papers on the kitchen counter. The lease, of course. And a pen, for signing. Adam grabbed them. He didn’t have much experience with apartment contracts, but it all seemed standard and ordinary. Typed. Legalese. So, he initialed and signed, and then he flipped to the last page.

This one was different. Unlike the other pages, it wasn’t typed. It was handwritten.

Adam leaned in, and he swore he could even smell a hint of Joyce on it, some kind of perfume she’d had on yesterday he’d noticed as she leaned over him in this very kitchen, her breasts practically in his face.  

Dear Adam,

I think you will find the rest of this lease to be in order. It’s the one I have used for years for other tenants.

However, this last page codifies a different sort of lease between you and me.

In short, it is the lease for your cock.

By signing, you agree to give me control over it and over your cage. Unlike the lease to the apartment, which is a standard 12-month lease and cannot be broken without 60 days-notice and two-months rent, this lease can be terminated at either time by either party.

Therefore, by signing this lease, you are agreeing to give me complete control over your cock, your cage, and your orgasms for as long as you see fit.

And I agree to take control over your cock, your cage, your orgasms, for as long as they and as long as you, please me.

Consider carefully before signing. Remember exactly what you are giving up and think intently upon what you will be receiving.


Adam was beside himself.

He stood at the counter, against the very drawer that had attacked him the day before and realized he was rubbing himself up against it without thinking. He wanted nothing more than to unlock himself and stroke himself furiously to an orgasm. It would take twenty, thirty seconds at most. Joyce wouldn’t even have to know.

But he would know.

He looked at her words again. “Remember exactly what you are giving up and think intently upon what you will be receiving.”

He breathed deeply. He composed himself. He signed.

And he left the key to his cage on top of the agreement.


He spent the rest of the afternoon unloading his things into the apartment and trying to keep Joyce off his mind, although she kept wandering in and out of his thoughts. Then he returned the U-haul, ate some quick fast food for dinner in his car, and headed back to the apartment. It had been a long day.

It was dark by this time, and he noticed that a light was on in the upstairs part of the house. Joyce must be home.

He wanted to bound up the stairs to see her, but he realized he didn’t know what to say to her. What were the rules? He wasn’t sure. But she had said he would hear from her later, so he decided to take her at her word, and he went back into his new place, still feeling a little unmoored.

Everything was as he’d left it before he’d returned the moving van, except the lease papers were gone from the kitchen counter.

And so was the key to his chastity cage.

Instead, there was just a sticky note in their place. It said:

Take off all your clothes.

Stand in the middle of the room.


Adam shivered, trying to tell himself it was because it was a little cold in the apartment. But he knew the truth.

He followed Joyce’s directions. He shucked off his clothes and stood naked in the middle of his new living room, his bare feet cold on the tile floor. The room was still relatively empty. The couch was behind him. He had boxes on the floor, an end table by the front door.

He was still incredibly excited, but the cold at least helped with his erection, keeping it from straining too much. Although, he was still very conscious of the fact that he was encased. Perhaps more conscious than he had ever been before when he had held his own key.

True. It had been in an ice cube, so it couldn’t be retrieved immediately. But he could retrieve it if he needed it.

Now, Joyce had it. He didn’t know where. And he had agreed to her rules. His cock was hers. The knowledge was exhilarating—and a little terrifying.

How long was he standing there? It felt like hours, but he knew it wasn’t. Maybe fifteen minutes. It just felt endless.

And then he heard it.

Joyce’s voice.

But from where? 

He heard her easy laughter. The sound of clicking heels on a hard wood floor. Some clanking. Like glasses?

He looked all around, but she obviously wasn’t in his apartment.

She was upstairs. So how did he hear her?

Then he noticed the small box on the wall. It had been there all day. He’d been aware of it, but wasn’t sure what it was. The building was older. Now he realized exactly what it was. His cousin had one in his house, built in the early 60s.

It was an intercom. And the light on it was blinking. It was on.   

He could hear Joyce because she was recording herself above him.

He thought of the note she had left earlier, and despite his frustration, he had to laugh. “You’ll hear from me this evening.” That’s what she had said.

He practically groaned out loud, but only stopped himself because he didn’t know if she could hear him too.

Because her clicking heels weren’t the only footsteps he heard.

He heard heavier footsteps too—footsteps like from someone’s flat footed, solid shoes.

A man’s shoes.

Joyce was upstairs with a man, having drinks, wearing heels, laughing. And here he was—downstairs—in the basement—naked, wearing his cage…and leaking onto the floor.

He couldn’t hear everything. The sound was muffled. They weren’t right next to the intercom. They were moving about the house, probably around the kitchen.

There was the scraping of chairs on the floor, more laughter, some of Joyce’s and some deeper chuckles, and then more of Joyce’s again. Flirty. Sexy laughter.

Adam found himself getting jealous. Why wasn’t he the one up there laughing with Joyce? Having dinner or drinks? Who was this guy?

But then mixed in with the jealousy was something else. Curiosity. Desire.

What was she looking like? What was she wearing? What was she laughing at?

What did he look like? Was he handsome? Were they touching?

He listened intently for every little sound. Running water. Was it in the kitchen or the bathroom? Silence. For how long? What did the silence mean? Then more muffled talking. Was that a moan? Or a grunt? Or just a sigh. Or something from outside.

He couldn’t tell, and it was making him crazy.

He imagined Joyce upstairs with this man, some good looking older man, someone Joyce’s age and then remembered what she had looked like yesterday, sitting astride his lap, kissing him, so in control. And what she had tasted like, the view of the inside of her creamy thighs as she rode his face.

Silence. There was just silence now.

What were they doing?

Was he fucking her?

Somehow, he imagined that this man would take control. He would grab Joyce and push her up against the wall, lift up her skirt and plunge into her pussy with his cock. Joyce wouldn’t be the one in control. He would. She wouldn’t grab his hair and push his face into her wet pussy. Instead, she would eagerly take his cock into his mouth, on her knees, looking up at him with hooded eyes…Adam’s key hanging from a gold chain around her neck, swinging lightly every time his cock hit the back of her beautiful, pale, smooth throat.

“Ungh.” He let out a strangled cry, somehow on the verge of orgasming, despite his cage, despite not even touching himself. But he knew he couldn’t come. He knew if he did, he would regret it.

And then….a moment later there was a knock at his door. And then the turning of a key in the lock, and there was Joyce, a half empty bottle of champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other. She was wearing a figure hugging black dress and red pumps. She looked, as she had yesterday, amazing. He was pretty sure his mouth had starting watering, like she was Pavlov and he was her dog.

“I think I heard you,” she said, like she was surprised. “Was that you I heard just a second ago? It sounded like you were upset!”

She smiled brightly at him, as she stepped into the place, her heels clicking now on his floor.

“I….” Adam didn’t know what to say. He was still incredibly turned on and jealous, strangely confused and very naked.

“I heard you,” he stuttered out. “I could hear you up there with that man.”

“You could?”

She placed the bottle and glasses on Adam’s end table and walked over to the intercom.

“Oh! You could! Silly me. I must have accidently flipped on the intercom when I came to collect your lease agreement this afternoon.” Her eyes were playful. “This old thing,” she said. “Were you spying on me, Adam?”

“No!” Adam tried to stand up straighter, even though he was incredibly conscious of just how naked he was and just how clothed Joyce was. He wanted to hide himself. He slipped one hand on top of his cage, in his outrage, just to give himself a little more protection.

Joyce quickly stepped up next to him, so close he could feel the swish of the fabric of the dress she was wearing against his thigh, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek, as she gently took his hand and removed it from his cock.

“No, Adam,” she said, simply. And she didn’t have to say more. He understood. He must not cover himself from her.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

And then, “But I wasn’t spying, ma’am. You told me to take off my clothes and stand here naked and wait, and I did. And then I could hear you up there.”

“You could?” As she spoke, she hitched up her dress, and then took the hand he had used to cover his cock.

“What could you hear?” Then she spread her legs a little and guided his hand up her thighs, until it reached the warm, wetness of her pussy.

He moaned. “I heard you laughing. I heard your heels.”

She spread her legs a little more and urged his hand up, until one, then two fingers were inside of her, and his palm was nestled against her clit. She pressed herself into it.

“And…”  she said.

“And…” With every thrust of his fingers inside of her, he couldn’t stop himself from slightly bucking his hips into empty air, mimicking what it would be like if it was his cock snugly fit inside her. 

“And I heard a man with you. And I heard you talking. And then I couldn’t hear you talking, and I wasn’t sure what you were doing. And I imagined things…”

“What did you imagine, Adam?” Her breathing was faster now. She pulled down the top of her dress so one heavy voluptuous breast was freed, and she took it and put it in his mouth.

“Suck,” she said. Not harshly, but it wasn’t a request either. It was an order.

And Adam did. And he felt his mind floating back to that state of blissful calm as he sucked eagerly on her breast, his fingers still inside her as she used them.

Then she took her breast away, and she asked again, “What did you imagine?”  

“I imagined him upstairs fucking you,” he admitted. “I imagined him pushing you against the wall and lifting up your skirt…your dress, and I imagined that you wouldn’t be wearing any panties, like you aren’t wearing any now. And then I imagined him taking out his cock and fucking you. Hard.”

“Go on,” she whispered in his ear, breathy, her voice uneven. “Don’t stop. What else did you imagine, Adam? Tell me.”

He whined. Gulped. He could feel her wet and hot and tight against his fingers, her pussy contracting around them, and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how she would feel wrapped around his cock, letting him slide in and out, milking the come out of his swollen balls. 

“I imagined that you got down on your knees and you took his cock into your mouth and you sucked him. And you looked up at him while you were doing it so he could see how much you loved it…how much you wanted to take his big, thick, hard cock in your throat. And…and….”

“Yes. Yes. Finish it,” she said. He could tell she was on the verge of having an orgasm.  He tried to turn his head to look at her, but she blocked him.

“No,” she said, nicely but firmly, like she was speaking to an overexcited puppy, which was a bit like how he felt.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, Adam. Keep being a good boy and look at the wall and finish it for me, and I’ll come all over your fingers, and then you can lick them off. Ok?”

“Ok.” He felt meek. But proud. He was doing a good job. He wanted to do a good job for her.

He continued. His voice strained, “…And then he told you to open your mouth wide because he was going to come, and you did. And you sucked out every last drop of his cum. And…and…and….the whole time….my key was hanging around your neck, and you knew…you  knew…You knew that I could hear you down here fucking him and sucking his cock and you liked it. You liked it!”

She groaned and bit into his shoulder as she came hard, one hand possessively grabbing his chin, the other in his hair, pulling his head back, as she ground her pussy rhythmically against his hand, riding out the wave of her orgasm.

“Good boy,” she whispered, again and again into his ear.

“Such a good, sweet, denied, locked, desperate boy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I hope so ma’am.”

“Look,” she said, and she finally let him turn his face toward her pink, heated cheeks.

She pointed at her neck.

Around it, he saw a slim, delicate gold chain, and at the end of it, settled right between her gorgeous breasts, was his key.

She smiled, and then she kissed him on the mouth.

“That was my ex-husband,” she said. “We’re still friends. He comes over every once in a while, and we have a drink for old times’ sake.”

Adam was embarrassed, but he needed to ask. “So, you weren’t fucking him?”

“No,” she said. “Not tonight, anyway.” She smirked.

“But you knew I could hear?”

“Of course.” She laughed. “The whole time I was thinking about you down here naked and caged and probably dripping pre-cum all over my nice clean floors.”

She glanced down at the tile. “It looks like I was right.”

“Uhhhnn.” He bit his lip. He was still so horny. “Ma’am? Maybe…maybe?”

Maybe she would take pity on him. Maybe she would let him come? He’d even take a ruined orgasm. Anything to relieve the pressure.

“Oh! Of course,” she said. She reached and gave his heavy balls a squeeze, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“These are coming along nicely. You’ll have a such a nice big load saved up for me. Eventually. But you’re not ready yet. Are you. You can take a little more for me, can’t you, Adam.”

It wasn’t a question. He knew. He also knew how much he was going to ache later, toss and turn, maybe have to ice himself down just to get to sleep.

But she was right. He wasn’t ready. He wanted. He needed more.

“Yes, ma’am,” he submitted.

She patted his cheek. “That’s my boy,” she said.

“We’re off to such a good start.  I almost forgot your reward for being such a good boy. Open wide and suck my fingers nice and clean. Use lots of tongue. For practice.”

“And Adam,” she said, caressing his key with her left hand as he hungrily nursed on the manicured fingers of her right, “Don’t forget to say thank you when you’re done.”

The Keyholder: A Gentle Femdom Erotic Short Story

gentle femdom chastity
“Hello, Adam.” She continued, taking out a set of keys, which Adam tried hard not to start at too deeply. They reminded him of HIS key.

The basement apartment was perfect.

Perfect location. Perfect size. Perfect rent, meaning that it was low.

As Adam stood in front of the row house waiting for the landlord to come out and give him a tour, he hoped silently that she hadn’t already made up her mind to go with another tenant.

But when she emerged from the front door a moment later, he forgot the apartment entirely. She was gorgeous. Just his type. Wearing a clinging sweater and a figure hugging knee length skirt. Also, he could tell she was a good bit older than him, by maybe ten years or so. He had a thing for older women—just one of his “things,” and he could feel his cock straining against its snug metal cage underneath of his pants.

That was another one of his “things.”

He regretted wearing the cage now, although he wore it most days, and he had started feeling naked without it. But he hadn’t expected—this. This woman who was efficiently making her way down her front steps with a playful smile and her well-manicured hand outstretched in a greeting. She made him feel extremely conscious of it all of a sudden.  

“Hello, there,” she said. “Don’t you look like a fine, upstanding young man. I’m Joyce. Nice to meet you.”

She laughed a little, and Adam couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.

“Thank you,” he stuttered. “Adam.” He could feel himself blushing. “I try to be.” All the while was acutely aware of his cock trying to break out and retreating, and he suddenly felt horrified that she would KNOW.

But she couldn’t know, he reminded himself.  There was no way for her to know. His cage fit well. He wore it all the time. No one could see it under the dark fabric of his pants. So, he took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the reason he was here—the apartment.

“Hello, Adam.” She continued, taking out a set of keys, which Adam tried hard not to start at too deeply. They reminded him of HIS key. And seeing her hold them made him wish for a keyholder of his own—a woman, like Joyce, who would have the control over him that he craved.  

“I’ve had a few applicants already, but I haven’t made up my mind. I am really looking for someone who can be helpful once in a while. I mean, not ALL the time. But since my divorce, I admit sometimes things get a bit screwy, and it would be nice to have a tenant who could help me out a little. That’s why the rent is low. Is that something you would be open to?”

“Oh!” He realized he said that too loudly.

Joyce looked startled. “I don’t mean I plan to take advantage,” she said, quickly. “Just small things, like when the smoke detector went off and I couldn’t figure out how to get it to stop. Or when there was a brick loose on the front stairs.”

“Oh, no,” he said. The idea of helping Joyce out with her chores made the apartment even that much more valuable. If only she’d known he would have paid extra for the privilege. “I’d be fine with that,” he said. “I’m very handy. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

She smiled. “What a catch! Then let me show you the place. Okay?”

Adam blushed again at the compliment. He followed her down the narrow staircase to the basement and waited as she fumbled with the lock to let him inside.

Inside, the apartment was just as nice as it had looked in the pictures.

“Take your time,” she said. “Take a look around. Let me know if you have any questions.”

The apartment was totally unfurnished except for a sofa in the middle of the living room.

“The last tenant left that,” she said. You can keep it, or I can get rid of it for you.

“Thanks,” he said. “I could use a couch.” And he began his inspection of the place, turning on and off lights, checking out the laundry nook, the bathroom, the small bedroom, the kitchen. Everything looked clean and in shape. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“So, you’re a student?” Joyce asked, conversationally.

“Grad student,” said Adam. “I’m studying engineering.”

“That’s nice,” she said. “That’s a lucrative field to be in.”

“I hope so,” he said. He was in the kitchen now, making sure the fridge worked.

“Any girlfriends? It’s not that I mind. I just want to know who might be around….Or boyfriends?”

He laughed politely, trying to pretend that he didn’t wish Joyce was asking for a reason other than pure safety.

“No girlfriends,” he said. “Or boyfriends.”

He added too quickly, “But I’m more interested in girlfriends.” And then he wondered if that had sounded desperate. But if Joyce had noticed, she didn’t comment on it.

Then he started opening up the kitchen cabinets, seeing how much space was available for his stuff. One drawer was sticky.

“Are you now…” She was leaning up against the wall next to the front door, tracing a pattern on the tile floor with her foot. “No girlfriend? A cute young thing like you?”

It almost sounded like she was flirting with him, but he realized that was crazy. His cage was getting to him.

He pulled hard on the drawer, and at the same time, Joyce called, “Oh, wait, Adam! Stop. It’s broken!”

But it was too late. He pulled harder, and the drawer suddenly came unstuck and flew straight into his groin, the corner of it hitting straight onto his cage.

“Oh, my god!” He doubled over, instinctively. The pain was intense, partially because of the way the drawer had knocked into the metal and partially because he was already so swollen. It had been weeks since he’d allowed himself an orgasm. He’d been engrossed in studying, so it had been okay, but now being around Joyce, he was already feeling desperate. The combination of both knocked the wind out him.

Joyce was at his side in a second. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I am so, so sorry. Are you okay?” She leaned over him, and her top dipped lower so her ample busom was straight in his line of view.

He groaned.

“You’re not okay. That damned drawer! I meant to tell you. Are you….she looked down at his crotch…are you injured?”

“No. No. It’s okay,” he managed to croak, but he realized he didn’t sound reassuring. There was no way to explain that the closer Joyce got to him, the closer those breasts were to his face, the closer he could smell whatever delicious perfume she had on, the more it was making his cock swell inside of its cage.

“I really think you’re not okay,” she said. “Look. Let me just check. I’m worried you’re seriously hurt.” And before he could stop her, she reached out and touched his cock over his pants.

“No!” He said.

But it was too late. A curious expression was already on her face.

And as soon as he felt the pressure of her hand, he moaned. He moaned.

He actually moaned out loud.

“Oh, my god,” he said again, but this time he wasn’t sure if it was from pain, desire or mortification.

Joyce’s entire demeanor suddenly changed. She went from worried to smirking in the space of ten seconds.

“Adam, what have you got going on down there?”

And instead of taking her hand away, she gripped a little harder, feeling her way around the outline of the cage.

“Oh, my,” she said. “Is that what I think it is?”

Adam was so flustered he didn’t know what to do. Should he tell her to remove her hand? That was the last thing he wanted. But he was so engorged. He needed relief. And he hadn’t even brought his key with him. He kept it at home frozen in an ice cube so he wouldn’t be tempted to use it…just like he wished his keyholder would to do him, if he had one. And now Joyce was going to be disgusted and he wouldn’t get the apartment. God, he wanted to come! God, he wanted out of his cage.

He started to cry. Silently at first, but Joyce’s hand was still there. Massaging? Was she massaging his caged cock? And a moan slipped out, followed by a sob.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” He didn’t want her to see.

“You are,” said Joyce. “Poor baby.” She took her hand off his cock and took his hand instead.

“Come over here.” She led him over to the couch, and he let her guide him, pull him down next to her. The pain was fading, but the arousal wasn’t, especially now that her body was pressed up against his, her hand on one of his thighs, and the embarrassment was even stronger.

“So, tell me about that,” she said, her eyes darting over his crotch.

“I don’t….I don’t want to,” he said, unsure if he meant it or not. What would he tell her? What could he tell her? “It’s…embarrassing.”

“Do you want the apartment,” she asked, coolly.

“You’re still going to rent me the apartment?” That thought had ceased to be a possibility to him the second the drawer had come unstuck. 

“It depends,” she said. “Are you going to tell me about that?” And with that, she put her hand on top of his cage again, letting it rest there lightly.

He felt dazed. “It’s a cage,” he admitted.


“For my….”

“For your cock,” she finished. “It’s a cock cage. A chastity cage. Isn’t it?”

He gasped. “How did you know?”

She laughed. “Adam, I’ve been around the block a time or two. It’s not like I don’t know what a chastity cage is. I just never expected a cute young thing like you to show up at my front door wearing one. And to think, I almost had that drawer fixed yesterday.”

Adam was shocked. Joyce looked so proper. His mind raced.

“Let me see it,” she ordered.

“See it?”

“Yes. Pull down your pants. I want to see it.”

See it! She wanted to see it? Adam had dreamed of a moment like this, but now that it was here and not just a fantasy in his head, he was gripped by mortification. His cock looked so small in the cage. Helpless. That was part of what he liked about it. But what if Joyce laughed at it? At him?

“I don’t know if I can do it,” he admitted. “No one but me has ever seen it before.”

“Do you want the apartment?”

“Yes! Oh, yes!”

“Then let me see it.”

Her hands were lightly tracing the outside of the cage under the fabric of his pants. She deftly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. “See. I’ll do half the work for you.”

“You might laugh at me.” He frowned. The tears felt like they might come again.

“I won’t laugh,” she promised, solemnly. “Not at you.”


He knew his face was flaming red, but he managed to lift himself up enough to pull his pants and underwear down so they rested below his knees. Then he was naked from the waist down on the couch, his chastity cage on full display to Joyce. He had never felt so vulnerable before. Or so horny.

“Well, isn’t that cute,” said Joyce, fingering his caged cock.

The feel of her skin everywhere except his cock itself was maddening. True to her word, she didn’t laugh. But she did grin in a way that made Adam feel desperate and nervous at the same time.

“Aren’t you cute,” she said. “Cute enough to eat up.”

And she climbed on top of him on the couch, her skirt riding up, and kissed him hard on the mouth, biting at his lips. She also started grinding against his cage, the pressure painfully pleasurable.

“Oh, ma’am,” he whispered, not even realizing what he’d said until it had come out from his lips.

“Oh, yes.  Ma’am” She took a break from kissing him. “I think we’re going to get along very well, Adam.”

“Ma’am,” he whined. “I’m so swollen. Please. It feels so good, but I’m so swollen.”

“I know, baby. I can tell. Poor boy.” She cupped his full balls and squeezed lightly. “You ARE full. We’ll have to do something about that. But not quite yet.”

“Do I have the apartment,” he asked. “Can I live here?” The apartment and the pain and the pleasure and the desire and Joyce were all mixed together now in a way he couldn’t understand, but just knew he needed.

“Well,” she said, evenly. “There’s just one little test left. Maybe we can call it a background check.”

“Oh. Yes, ma’am. Please. Tell me what it is.”

“I’ll just show you,” she said.

She climbed off his lap and arranged herself on the couch, slipping a pair of red panties from beneath her skirt and onto the floor.

“Let’s see how industrious you are, Adam. Let’s see what kind of help you can provide. I did say I was looking for good help. Didn’t I?”

She hitched up her skirt, so he could see the small triangle of neatly trimmed thatch in the v of her thighs. Then she opened them wide.

The invitation was unmistakable.

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He fell to the floor and buried his face between her legs, coating his mouth and cheeks in her wetness. He wasn’t sure what she liked, how to do a good job. He didn’t have much experiences—just eagerness. But he didn’t need it. She grabbed the back of his head with both hands and pulled his face into her pussy so he could barely breathe, grinding her clit against him.

Meanwhile, he was aching so much, he wanted to explode. 

“That’s it,” she coaxed, working herself against him. “Right there. Good boy. Keep still. I’m almost there already. You got me so worked up. It won’t be long.”

He didn’t move. He just let her use him as she liked, and a powerful wave of calm washed over him.

This was everything he had been looking for.

“Good boy.” Her thighs tensed against his skull. “Keep your tongue nice and flat, just like that. You don’t need to do anything else. I’ll do all the work.” She grabbed his hair and held him still. “Almost. Almost.”

It was hard. He needed to breathe, but he knew what was expected of him.

“Shhh,” she coaxed, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, his limits and just how far she could push them. And then she let out a delighted squeal, her hands gripping even harder in his hair, her pussy clamped over his mouth and pulsing against him.

After she was done, she let him slump to the ground and rest his face against her leg. He had never felt so satisfied or so horny in his entire life. His cock strained against the inside of the metal, and he felt tingly and high, and yet content. This was where he was meant to me.

She petted him gently, and he sighed in affection and frustration against her smooth skin.

Finally, she spoke.

“Well done, Adam. I’ll take first month’s deposit in sweat equity,” she said, with an easy laugh, that he knew wasn’t at him but for him.

“You can move in tomorrow. Don’t forget to bring MY key. But, don’t worry. I don’t think we’ll be needing it for a while.