The Lovers — Part 5.

Having watched what he thought to be the key to his lover’s chastity belt fall into the recesses of the heating system in my apartment Paolo stared in desperation. Poor lamb scrabbling about down there, all disheveled, and Fern, in her nakedness, but for the well fitted chastity belt, looking at him from a little further down the passage, an amused smile on her face. It was quite a lovely picture.

Enjoy the final installment of The Lovers.

Katia

The Lovers Part 5

Paulo dropped to his knees, scuttling to the grate, his unmentionables flapping behind him as he bent and tried to pull it open with his nimble fingers. Alas, it was screwed down tight. Fern, in her predictably amenable way told him not to worry about it, that she could wait. Paulo then demanded a screwdriver. I reminded him that a lock needed a key, not a screwdriver, the silly boy.

“No Mistress! For the grate! For the grate!” he said, once again clutching his penis through his clothes with such focused frustration, one might almost think he was willing it to turn into an actual tool. The silly little man couldn’t help himself.

“There’s no point trying to retrieve it from the vent, dear.” I said, shaking my head, “It’s too narrow. Even if you squeezed and pried, there’s no way you could get in, and you certainly won’t get any satisfaction from trying.”

Paulo shot me a sideways glance, a look of desperation competing for space on his face with a look of despair. He looked quite venal. I suppose that’s a biproduct of those feelings.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” I said with forced sympathy. “I forgot. How insensitive of me. When I said ‘satisfaction’ I didn’t mean…”

Fern was laughing. It was an awkward situation, she agreed, but she could make do. I nodded, motioning to the wire on her behind, she could still manage her toilet. She’d just have to clean vigorously. Or have Paulo attend to that. It was really not such an inconvenience.

Poor Paolo. All crestfallen and redundant. He was smiling that sad smile I must have seen a hundred times before when I’ve done something unspeakable to his poetry. He clutched impotently at himself, but it was all to no avail. What was the point?

As I sent Fern off to get dressed, my hand lingering gently on her shoulder as I spoke to her, I reminded Paulo that there were other ways to pleasure a woman without simply diving for the obvious. Perhaps he might discover some? I encouraged Fern that this would build her desire for her brooding lover even more.

“It’s ok. Please don’t make a fuss, Mistress. I’m not super disappointed.” She smiled, then awkwardly clamping her hands over her mouth and looking at Paulo, who by now was practically a puddle of despondency. “Oh, sorry Paulo… you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

I watched them shuffle out of my front door, hand in hand, like lovers exiled from paradise. To make a new life for themselves in the desert of Fern’s forbidding terrain. Closing the door, I placed the chastity belt’s key in the vase. Safely stowed for when I chose to end the joke. Or when the joke had gone a little too far.

Now, I hope you, like Fern, are still suitably locked up. Be sure to let me know how you’re doing in the comments below. I’d like you to be kind enough to remain locked up for the next little while. It think it best for both of us, and I am quite sure you agree.

Mistress Katia Thornwood.

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