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

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I hope everyone is enjoying Locktober!

Adam slept fitfully that night. He woke up several times, his cock aching to be released, and he kept imagining Joyce quite literally above him in the upstairs part of the house, sleeping with his key around her neck.

He wanted to be lying next to her, smelling her hair, her warm, lush body next to his. He could almost feel what it would be like if he tried hard enough to imagine, her soft skin, the impression of her body next to him, but then the image would fade, and he would just be alone.

And yet, he did feel her.

He felt that silent string between the two of them, the string she only needed to pull at, tug at, and he would feel it in his cock.

He was hers. He just wanted to be able to show her how much.

He thought about how jealous he’d been thinking she was with another man upstairs while he stood naked and waiting for her, and how angry he had been, but also how she had somehow known that it would excite him. He hadn’t expected that, and he strangely had to admit to himself that there was a part of him that liked it—although he was also very glad she had just been toying with him.

She had done it for him.

It made him feel—special.

The next morning he had class, and then he taught, part of his graduate student duties and for which he received his stipend. It was hard to concentrate all day, although he managed. He willed himself to place Joyce and his aching cock in a sealed box in his mind, so he could keep up with his school work and his own students.

But by the time classes were over, he was more than eager to return to his apartment. On the way home, he stopped at the grocery store to pick up some food for the week, and he picked out some flowers for Joyce.

At first he thought of red roses, but then he realized those were too common. He chose purple irises instead. They seemed more exotic, like Joyce, and purple was the color of royalty. He was starting to think of her a little like a queen, his queen.

He parked and grabbed his groceries, including Joyce’s flowers, preparing to bring them inside. But as he walked up the short path to the front door, he saw her, sitting on her front steps. She was in a long, flowy skirt today and fitted blue v neck shirt, and barefoot. She had a glass next to her filled with ice and a drink and a book in her hand.

“Adam!” She put down the book as he approached. “I was waiting for you.” She seemed genuinely excited.

He looked at the book.

“The Color Purple,” he said. “That’s a great book.” And he set down his bags and pulled out his purple flowers, feeling very pleased with himself.

“For me?” Joyce accepted them with a bright smile. “How did you know purple was my favorite color?”

“Just a guess.”

Adam couldn’t help feeling bashful around her. He knew he was blushing already. He looked down at the ground and couldn’t help but notice her pretty bare feet, her toenails painted pink.

He couldn’t get excited again—not yet. But there it was. His erection was trying to escape, but the metal prevented it. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“That was very sweet,” she said. “They’re going to look lovely at the dinner table.”

“I’m sure they will,” he said.

“But not quite as lovely as you,” she said, smiling somewhat wolfishly, it seemed.

“As lovely as me?” He laughed.  

“Yes. I thought maybe you’d join me for dinner tonight? After you put your groceries away? I thought we could get to know each other a little better.”

“Oh! Yes!” He couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t excited. “I’ll just go down right now and put this stuff in the fridge.”

“Sounds good,” said Joyce. “I’ll see you a little bit.”

Adam ran downstairs, shoving his groceries in the fridge and freezer, hoping he didn’t mix up which went where in his excitement. Then he practically bounded back upstairs.

She laughed she opened the door. “That was quick! So enthusiastic!”

“I was. I am,” he admitted. “I would love to spend some time with you and get to know you better, ma’am.”

“You really are adorable,” she said, ushering him inside. “Come. Let’s eat.”

Adam finally got a chance to see her house, which felt like he thought her house would look like. It wasn’t ostentatious, but it was comfortable and elegant. She had a lot of books.

 A lot of bookcases, actually. All full of books.

“I was a history teacher,” she said, catching him eyeing the colorful book jacket spines. “But I’m retired now.” She was in the kitchen. There was the delicious smell of home cooking emanating from the stove.

“You’re young to be retired,” he said.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure how old Joyce was, but he thought probably somewhere in her late thirties or early forties. He knew it wasn’t polite to ask, and what did it matter anyway. She was perfect.

“I’m 42,” she said, stirring something in a pot.

“Yes. I am young to retire. Honestly, I have family money, and between renting the apartment and a few other properties I own, I don’t need to work. I volunteer now to keep my mind active.”

She flashed her teeth. “Well, I do some other things too, like invite smart, young men to apprentice with me.”

“Is that what I am?” He approached her at the stove, feeling bold for a moment, and slipped one arm around her waist. “Your apprentice?”

“Oh, in a way,” she said. “It’s kind of a partnership.  Don’t you think?” She pulled the necklace with his key out from her shirt and dangled it in front of his face.

He moved to kiss her, but she dodged him with a giggle, and instead pulled out a wooden spoon from the pot cooking on the stove. “What do you think of this?”

She held it up in front of his mouth and waited for him to taste it.

“Mmmm.” It was creamy tomato soup. “Delicious,” he said. “But not as delicious as you.”

She laughed, and before he’d realized what happened, she’d flipped him around so he was pinned up against the counter and her hand was slipped around his waist, pulling him toward her. The spoon clattered on the counter, and she kissed him hard.

“I was thinking about you all last night,” she said.

“I was too!” It felt good to say it out loud.

“We’re going to play,” she said. She cupped his cage gently, and he moaned. “I promise. We really are. I’m going to be nice to you tonight, Adam. But first we’re going to eat a little and we’re going to talk a little and we’re going to drink a little.”

I’m not going anywhere.” She tugged on his cage lightly. “And neither are you.”

The dinner passed in a blur. Tomato soup and fresh baguette and salad and wine, and Joyce telling him about her years teaching, her marriage, over but amicably, her family, parents both dead, her friends, hobbies, etc…and Adam explaining how he decided on engineering, moving from a small town. He talked about feeling different from his peers, wanting to be somewhere else, somewhere there was “more,” but he didn’t go into too much detail.

That part of his life was a little painful. It seemed like both of them had a little pain in their pasts.   

What neither of them talked about at all was what was currently between his legs. It was like they both knew they were saving that. It was there, a current running underneath everything, but it could linger, simmer. It would be there no matter what.

And then dinner was finally over, and Adam helped Joyce load the dishes in the dishwasher and clean up. And they sat on either side of her kitchen table, glasses of wine in hands and looked at each other.

“So,” she said, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am.” He didn’t know what she was proposing, but the answer was yes. How could the answer be no?

“Let’s go upstairs then. To my bedroom.”

They were quiet. She led, and he followed, and up the stairs he found himself in her room, which was white and serene and comforting.

“Sit down with me,” she said, patting her bed, covered with a soft white duvet.

Adam sat, wanting to sink into it, and she sat down beside him. She smelled good. That perfume. Or her natural scent. Or both. Adam wanted to nuzzle at her, but he could tell she wanted him to wait. He didn’t want to pester her. He wanted to be good.

“Last night was fun,” she said.

“It was!” Had he said that too loudly. Why couldn’t be at all cool around this woman? “It was,” he repeated, more softly this time.

“It was,” she said. “But maybe I rushed into that too fast. I should have checked with you first. I thought I was being clever, but I could have hurt you.”

Adam didn’t know what to say. It was true he had been shocked. Also angry and jealous for a time. But also…he had been excited. He hadn’t expected to have all the feelings that he had—so mixed up and jumbled together. But the combination had been…intoxicating.

“I think tonight, let’s get to know each other a little more,” she said. “Just the two of us. No games.”


“Ha! Don’t act so disappointed. I just meant no surprises. Like yesterday. Let’s get everything out in the open.” To emphasize her point, she put her hand on his crotch, just very lightly.

Everything? What did she mean by everything? He could feel himself starting to melt.

“How often do you usually take off your cage,” she asked, petting him slowly.

“Every few days. To clean myself. Make sure it’s still working.” He laughed.

“And how long do you usually wait between orgasms?”

He felt shy. “It depends. The longest I’ve gone was about three weeks, and I was pretty desperate then, ma’am. Usually, more like two is all I can stand. But I’ve never had a keyholder before. So, I had to rely on myself, and sometimes….I just didn’t have enough discipline to continue.”

“Okay,” she said, taking her time. “Well, here’s what we’re going to do tonight.” She rubbed his back as she spoke, and felt that calm slipping over his again. It was an effect she had on him. He felt slightly dazed in a pleased, lust drunk way.

“First, we’re going to get you nice and clean. Which means,” she said, pulling her necklace out from between her breasts, that I’m going to take your cage off.”

His cock immediately felt harder the minute she said that, which, he realized, was going to make the process even more difficult.

But god, how he wanted out of the cage—and then he didn’t—but he did. He really did. He needed it. And he did want to be clean for Joyce!

“Take your clothes off for me. And meet me in the bathroom.”

The bathroom was just off her bedroom. Adam slowly undressed, tying to give himself a little time so his cock could calm down, but it was so challenging knowing that she was waiting for him in there.

And once he got into the bathroom, it wasn’t any easier.

Joyce had changed out of her day time outfit into a loose terry bathrobe, her dark hair clipped up in a bun out of her face and her neck exposed. He could see a hint of one of her gorgeous breasts peeping out one side of the robe.

She had the bath running, a soft looking white washcloth on the side of the tub and a bar of soap.

She had his key in her hand.

She sat down on the side of the tub and directed him to stand in front of her, so she was eye level with his cock. It was exciting…and embarrassing. She took her time, just looking at him, and she even lightly petted his ass, slipping one finger gently between his cheeks, probing very lightly.

He flushed and gasped.

“Is that new,” she asked, sweetly.

“Yes. Oh…yes.” No one had ever touched him like that before. But he felt embarrassed asking for more. He wasn’t sure what to ask for more of.

But she just said, “Interesting,” and moved on, keeping him wanting.

“I’m going to unlock you now, Adam. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” It came out as more of a moan. He had started shaking, tried to will himself to stop, but he couldn’t. He wanted to feel her hand on his cock so badly.

“You’ll let me know if I hurt you?”

“Yes.” Oh, god. Just touch me, please, he thought.

And then her hand was on his thigh and then his cock, over the metal, and she was turning the lock, removing it, placing it on the bathroom counter, and easing, gently, easing the metal cage off.

Luckily, he had been leaking already, so the cage slid off relatively easily, although as soon as it nudged off the tip, he could feel his cock starting to grow. And he still needed to get the metal ring off from behind his balls, which could be tricky.  

“Ssshhhh.” She petted his thigh. “Such a good boy. You’re doing great, Adam. Halfway done.”

He had no idea how she did it, but she managed to ease one swollen ball through the metal ring at a time.

He gasped with every touch, convinced she was going to have to pry it off him with bolt cutters, he felt so swollen and achy, but she was gentle and patient, and each touch of her fingers on his balls felt silken and calming, and then he felt a sense of relief as he realized he was free.

“That’s a beautiful cock you have under there, Adam, she said, stroking it very lightly with just the tip of one finger. “I’d say it’s still working quite well.”

He shuddered from the touch. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

Her robe had slipped open a little more, and now he could see the nipple of one of her breasts, the top of one thigh.

She had him get into the bath, easing himself into the steamy water, and she sat beside the tub, looking at him with that patient stare she had.

“Let’s get you nice and clean,” she said, taking the washcloth and rubbing a little soap on it. “And give you a little bit of time to get readjusted.” Then she took the washcloth and gently started soaping him—first his arms, then his chest, then his legs. She even had him part his legs, so she could run the washcloth between his cheeks. He thought he saw a smirk on her face when he gasped again, but it was gone too soon to be sure.

And then finally, she washed his cock—gently—so gently—his erection was hard. It felt thick. Engorged. Even he was impressed with how hard he was. It twitched every time she touched it, and even when she didn’t. It was like his cock had a mind of its own, and now that it had been freed, it only wanted one thing.

And then…bath time was over.

She pulled the plug, helped him out of the tub and handed him a big, fluffy towel to use to dry off. 

“Now that you’re nice and clean for me,” she said to him, back in her bedroom, easing him onto her bed, on his back right in the middle, a soft pillow supporting his head, “I’m going to use you.”

The minute she said the word “use” his cock leaped to attention again. It was ready. He was ready.

“Would you like that, Adam? Would you like me to use that lovely, delicious cock to give myself an orgasm? Would you like to see me come hard all over that lovely, delicious cock? I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

“Oh, ma’am.” He could barely speak. “Yes. Please.”

“Whose cock is it, Adam? Tell me.” She slipped off the robe, letting it fall to the  floor, and he took in her gorgeous soft body standing right there so close, naked in front of him.

“It’s your cock, ma’am. It’s all yours.”

“That’s right. Good boy. It’s my cock.”

She climbed onto the bed. She had a condom in her hand that she deftly opened.

“And what do you need to do with my cock while I use it, Adam?”

“Ma’am? I don’t know,” he said. “Tell me, please!”

She unrolled the condom down over him, and he could see and feel himself twitching again.

“Nothing,” she said, climbing on top of him, her pussy poised right over him. “You don’t have to anything. I’m going to do ALL the work. The only thing you have to do,” she said, with a smile as she eased herself onto him, “…is not come.”  

Ohhhhh. She felt so good. She felt amazing. She worked her pussy down on him with exquisite slowness, clenching and unclenching her muscles, as she slowly eased his cock deeply inside her, until she bottomed out as their pelvic bones met.

“Ma’am!” He warned her. Oh, god. He was so close, and she hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Sssshh.” She whispered into his ear, her breasts in his face, and turned his face to the side, so it was facing the wall, his cheek on the pillow.

“Be good,” she said, like it was a secret. “Be good. All you have to do is just lie here and let me fuck you. Just relax and take it and let your cock stay nice and hard for me. It won’t take long, if you’re very good, and then you’ll my good boy and we can put your cage back on and get you locked back up nice and tight.”

“Oh, god.” At the mention of his cage, frustration and desire surged through him…remembering how confined he felt in the cage, but also how safe and distanced. He wanted both. He wanted the cage and he wanted this. He wanted to come and he never wanted to come.

“Sssshhh,” she said, again, working her pussy on him with that painful deliberation. She was barely moving, but her muscles were milking his cock incrementally, her breathing speeding up. “Take it,” she whispered. “Just take it. Don’t fight it.”

He tried to complain again—worried that he wasn’t going to be able to last, but she silenced him with a firm hand over his mouth.

“You can do it, baby,” she said. “Keep my cock nice and hard for me. I’m almost there. It won’t be long. Do you like the way my pussy feels milking you? Can you feel all that come in your swollen aching balls wanting so much to come out for me?”

Could he?  Could he? He tried to keep his mind empty like Joyce told him, imagined himself as her toy, so lucky being used this way, concentrating on the sweet pressure of her pussy, the sound of her ragged breath, the feeling of her hot hand on his mouth. But his body fought him. It wanted release so badly. 

“I know it’s hard,” she said. “I know how much you want to come…need to come…but I need you to stay desperate for me, baby.”

She shuddered, grinding herself against him, forcing him ever more deep and tight inside her.

“I’m going to come now, baby. I’m going to come on that beautiful, hard cock of mine, and I need you to stay nice and still and calm and let it happen. Okay? It’s going to happen now, Adam, and you’re going to be very good and calm and still  for me. Aren’t you?”

He groaned. “Yes,” he managed to mumble from beneath her hand, feebly, feeling her muscles tighten even more, watching one of her hands clutch the bedsheet beside his cheek as the other tightened over his lips.

“Good boy. Good boy,” she repeated over and over, as she used him, working out her orgasm on his body. “Good boy,” as her hand came off his mouth and into his hair, first grabbing and then petting, as her breathing slowed and she fell forward onto his chest, kissing it, and then his neck and finally his mouth.

“You did such a good job, Adam,” she said, climbing off him, unrolling the condom off his still extremely hard and desperate cock.

“Please, ma’am. May I hold you?” He felt tender, fragile.

“Of course, baby,” she said, allowing him to nestle in her arms. She petted his hair. “That was difficult. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “It was so difficult. I’m still so…”

“Horny,” she finished for him. “Frustrated.”

“Yes. Very, ma’am.”

“I know,” she said.

And he felt like she did.

“I’ll give you a choice,” she said, as he inhaled the scent of her, his face between her breasts.

“I can let you come now, before we put your cage back on. Or you can stay hard and desperate and wanting for me, and we can do this again tomorrow. I think I know which choice you’re going to make, but I’m going to let it be your choice, Adam.”

His cock had never felt quite so locked before, he realized an hour and an ice pack later, as Joyce turned the key.

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.”