Locktober's End Ch. 11

JESSICA

I woke up to the smell of coffee and eggs, and to the sight of a submissive guy lowering a tray next to me. It pays to be a domme, sometimes. I smiled at him and took the cup of black coffee he was offering.

"I didn't know how you liked it," Ben said as he circled around to the other side of the mattress with his own coffee. He'd left our scrambled eggs on the tray on my nightstand.

I took a sip, sat up against my pillow, and demonstrated my enjoyment with a deep sigh of pleasure. Coffee in pajamas on a Saturday morning. "Black is fine." Then I felt a little apprehensive. "You didn't have to, you know?"

"I know." He nodded as he he got into bed on the other side. I could see through the window that the sun was coming up, and here was a good-looking submissive guy lying next to me in nothing but his white undershirt and a pair of cute black boxers. Oh, and that all important cage, of course. How lucky can a girl get?

He took a sip of his own coffee and grinned. "Don't worry, I wasn't thinking of it as like a kink thing. I just needed some coffee and breakfast myself, and here I am at your place, and I thought..." He trailed off, biting his lip. "Then again, just because I wasn't thinking of it consciously as kinky, that doesn't necessarily mean..."

I smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. I was trying to reassure him and get him out of his own head, but I realized a split-second later that every kiss for a denied boy was now a tease for him as well. It was a little early in the morning for that, even for me. "The lines start to blur, don't they? Don't worry, Ben, I think I'm the one who's making it weird by even bringing it up. I should've simply thanked you for the coffee. I just don't want you to feel like you're my domestic servant or something." I fixed him with a slightly evil grin. "At least not today."

I noticed him half-shiver and half-smile in the aftermath of my light kiss. Pause as if gathering his words. He drew his legs up and put his arms around them as he held on to the coffee cup, and his expression became contemplative. "I don't think that domestic servitude is really a big kink for me... but I have to admit, now that we're talking about it, I kind of like the thought of waiting on you over the course of a day. Bringing you things."

I nudged his knee with my own. "Might make a good distraction when you're restricted from other activities, hmmm?"

I couldn't help giggling at his rueful moan, and at the way the coffee cup trembled in one of his hands. I guess I lied- I guess it was late enough in the morning for teasing after all.

When Ben had recovered from his guttural moans of orgasm-deprivation, he looked over at me and smiled. "We could always test it out, see how we both like it. I've got an hour or so before I should get going."

"Oh yeah, that hike you mentioned."

"Is there anything you'd like done around here?"

I sipped my coffee and thought about it. Despite some readers' suspicions, I'm sure, I really don't think of myself as too much of a bitch, and I wasn't going to make this poor guy go around my apartment washing dishes and fixing doors. I just liked teasing the hell out of him. I wanted Ben, at the end of the day, to have just as much fun as I was having... minus the orgasms, of course.

He'd leaned forward and seemed to be regarding the long black shelves underneath my TV. "I think it's really cool that you still buy physical music," he mused.

"Mostly CDs. I'd be cooler if they were records."

He nodded. "That's true," he said with a straight face.

I leaned over and punched him on the shoulder, making him laugh. "There are a bunch in my desk drawers, too. I really should keep them in order. Now that I think about it, I was looking for something the other day- the first Third Eye Blind album, you'd better not tell anyone assuming you ever want to cum again, it's a guilty pleasure- and I had no idea where it was."

His voice had become casual. "Would you like me to, um, alphabetize them for you? It couldn't take more than 30 minutes."

I thought about it. "I need to pee. Sorry if that's too much information. But after that, I think I could lie down for another hour or so." I smiled at him. "If a horny boy wants to alphabetize my CD collection while I rest... who am I to say no?"

He shivered a little again at what I think he would have admitted was an apt description of him. Then I leaned across the bed and kissed him on the lips- softly, slowly, my hand on the back of his neck. My other hand against his chest.

Gratifyingly, he whimpered. After another few seconds, he groaned. After another few seconds, he said "Please." Such helpless sounds. I restrained myself from passing a hand over his cage, but I knew it had suddenly become very, very small and tight.

I spoke just above a whisper, looking into his eyes, in my designated (at least in my mind) teasing voice. "And I'd better not find any mistakes."

He seemed barely able to reply, still lost in the pleasure and frustration of our kiss, his eyes half-closed. "Y... yes, Miss."

*

I did indeed pee (again, sorry if that's too much information- but girls pee, too), then fell asleep again even more quickly than I'd have imagined. When I woke up about 45 minutes later and groggily looked towards the front of the room, I saw about 15 stacks of CDs arranged neatly on the carpet. It sounded like Ben was in the kitchen, maybe getting a little more coffee for himself. I yawned, crawled out of bed, and wandered over to the far side of the room, where the first stack of CDs began with Agalloch's The Mantle.

He appeared in the doorway, and I saw that he was dressed in his green hoodie and black jeans (he looked pretty cute, I have to admit), though he didn't yet have his shoes on. "So," he asked, "how did I do?"

I smiled. "You started at A. Very impressive. I'll have to inspect your work further, though, before I can say for sure."

"I didn't realize you liked metal, actually. You've got atmospheric-folk metal like Agalloch, but then you've got classic Big Four stuff like Anthrax, Megadeth, pre-Black Album Metallica. You've even got some of those crazy Scandinavians..."

I laughed. "There's a lot about me you don't know, mister. I wouldn't say I listen to a lot of metal these days, though. Mostly when I go running. I think I'm slowly mellowing out a bit."

He winked as he crouched down to inspect another of the piles. "Could've fooled me."

I walked over to him and ran my fingers through his hair a little. "I like you. You make me laugh."

He'd zeroed in on more metal, Sad Wings of Destiny by Judas Priest. "This is such a killer album," he murmured. I couldn't remember the songs off the top of my head, just vague memories of Rob Halford shrieking with tragic and unparalleled majesty, though it did have killer album art. Ben sounded like he'd closed his eyes.

"Can you name track number three without opening your eyes?"

He hesitated. "Is that... Deceiver?"

I crouched down next to him, letting my chest brush against his back, and I took the CD from his hand. Gently, but without asking. I turned it over and checked the tracklist as I continued to run my hand through his hair. Like an animal I was keeping pacified. He made quiet murmuring sounds as I did. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ben. Deceiver is track number 4. Dreamer Deceiver is track number 3."

He exhaled slowly. "I forgot how tricky they were with those titles. The first one is this, like, haunting ballad, and then Deceiver is an up-tempo track..."

I continued to stroke his hair. "Very tricky of them to put songs with such similar titles back-to-back. A real shame, too, because I was thinking about giving you a reward for arranging my CDs so well. If only you knew your Judas Priest tracklistings a little better..."

"A... a reward, Miss? What... what kind of...?"

I giggled and kissed him softly on the back of the neck. "Well don't worry about that now, silly. Maybe you'll fare better next time we play Miss Jessica's Muscial Trivia, hmmm?" What was I saying about it being too early in the day?

He swallowed hard and nodded emphatically, eyes still obediently closed. "Y... yes, Miss Jessica."

"Besides, I know you have to get out there and hike soon. Work those strong leg muscles."

"That's... that's true."

"Before you do, I guess I'm just curious how you enjoyed alphabetizing my CDs. You may open your eyes now, sub."

He did so, blinking, and turned to look into my eyes with a smile. "I really like it when you call me that. Almost as much as I like calling you Miss."

I smiled back at him.

"I still don't know if domestic servitude is a... a thing for me, Miss, but I did like doing this task for you."

I sat down across from him in the lotus position. "What do you think you liked about it?"

"I think it's... it's a different flavor of obedience, you know? Without all the bells and whistles."

I grinned. "Bells and whistles?"

"Well, yes. Maybe it also has partly to do with our situation this morning, with you asleep and my having to go soon... but I guess there is a part of me that also likes the experience of obeying you in a way that, on its face, isn't about anything sexual. Which might sound strange."

I shook my head reassuringly. "No, not at all."

"Because I wasn't really expecting you to tease me wildly this morning. Wasn't really expecting flashes of lingerie, for example, or you playing with the key to my cage in only your bra..." He paused for a second, as if, despite his words, such fantastical images might yet play out in front of his eyes.

I had to throw my head back and giggle. "In your dreams, chastity boy. Lingerie?" As I slowly recovered from such a hilarious suggestion, I took pity on him. "Well, maybe not only in your dreams. But certainly not today. Maybe if you'd known your Judas Priest a little better."

He groaned and put his head in his hands ruefully. "The songs even had the same word..."

I chuckled. "I expect accuracy in musical trivia."

He looked up and smiled at me again. "Anyway, let's be honest, that kind of explicit teasing... the kind the writer would just jump to in a bad erotic story... well, despite the frustration... it would be a reward for me, wouldn't it?"

I nodded, smiling. "That's correct. That's correct, very good."

"And so maybe... I think what I liked about organizing your CDs for you... was getting to practice obedience without expectation of any reward?"

I put my fingers to my lip. "Hmm. I like that."

"Or, put another way, I find that there is a reward after all."

"Okay, I'll bite."

He raised an eyebrow. "Promise?"

I giggled. "No, silly, I'll bite as in I'm curious. What's the reward?"

I moved over and rested my head on his shoulder. I suppose I was teasing him, still, but it also just felt nice.

"The reward... is in taking away all expectation of reward, of you dangling something in front of me... and realizing that I simply enjoy obeying you." I could feel him trembling a little as he spoke. "And being able to acknowledge that, express that, be open about it. Obeying you is the reward."

I looked up, kissed him lingeringly on the jaw. "Yeah?"

"Because I love your laugh. And your smile. And your musical acumen. And I can't resist you. You make me powerless."

I grinned wider. "You tell me such dangerous things."

BEN

I met up with friends and spent the rest of the day hiking on the outskirts of the city. I didn't mention to any of them that I'd met someone, not even to my closest friend, but then again I wasn't totally certain that I had yet. This relationship with Jessica, however you wanted to define it, was still little more than a week old, and I didn't want to jinx it by talking about it aloud. Maybe I'm more superstitious than I sometimes realize.

The hike was nothing crazy, but it was good to get out in nature. Having cleared it with Jessica beforehand, I took off the cage at home and spent most of the day without it. She'd pretended to be skeptical when I broached the subject- I got the sense that she didn't want to disappoint me by being too much of a pushover about such matters- but yielded to the logic that I wasn't very likely to start playing with myself among a group of friends.

"Socially-imposed chastity," she'd smiled, seeming to take a liking to the concept, and I shivered. I'm shivering now, remembering the amusement in her eyes.

In any case, I got home pretty late that night, a Saturday, after a group dinner, and I was so exhausted that I didn't do much except take a shower and... lock my cage back on before going to bed, of course. Then, as we'd agreed, I texted Jessica a picture with a smiley face (she hadn't required the smiley face). She reacted a few minutes later with a heart.

There were, naturally, other reasons I hadn't brought up this new dynamic to my friends. Chastity-play certainly fell into the category of TMI. I was also experiencing things in real time, and struggling to make sense of them just to myself. To wit- after reading about the events of the past week from Jessica's perspective, I can imagine many readers thinking that my Saturday must have been torturous, that I was living in nearly 24/7 denied agony, and that I was even starting to regret the arrangement she and I had come to. Or that I was at least tempted to cheat.

And okay, yes, every once in a while I did feel tempted to cheat.

But the impulse was actually much more fleeting than I ever would have believed, without experiencing it myself. And to be honest, by the end of Saturday, I felt great. I had an exciting new... something... with a very attractive girl who was teasing the hell out of me. I'd spent almost all day outdoors, walking and talking with friends. We'd had a great meal afterwards. It was true that every once in a while throughout the day, I remembered certain things Jessica had said to me- certain ways she'd smiled, the curve of one of her legs, the way her hair brushed her shoulders- and felt the sudden urge to touch myself. But of course I was under "socially-imposed chastity" throughout the day. I imagined her in the back of my mind, grinning at my predicament, wagging her finger and reminding me no.

But as mentioned, the urges passed much more quickly than I think readers would believe. More quickly than I would have believed.

And after Jessica reacted with the heart, a strange thing happened. I felt oddly at ease, and suddenly realized how tired I was. I put on a podcast, and it took about 30 minutes for me to fall asleep. But I genuinely didn't think once about touching myself.

*

And the next evening, following a productive day of grading quizzes with a little football in the background, I found myself sitting at a table in Prince of Tides, watching Jessica get ready on the small soundstage they had. I'd met up with her outside and brought in her guitar for her, but she was only going to do a few acoustic songs and she didn't have much else that needed to be carried. I'd sensed that she was nervous- it was somehow reassuring (and a little sexy) to me that my domme could get nervous before a performance (one that was going to be held in front of less than 20 people for that matter), that she was human too. I got a little of the subby thrill by carrying her guitar for her. But it really wasn't a teasing situation, and after she thanked me I basically told her to break a leg, and went off to find a table by myself, where I ordered a gin and tonic and settled in to watch my pretty domme sing by myself.

I thought I would be by myself, anyway.

But no sooner had I taken a sip of my drink- and before Jessica had started playing- a strikingly attractive dark-haired woman appeared out of the shadows near the bar, and walked over in my direction. In her hands, incongruously, was a deck of playing cards.

She smiled at me. "You're Jessica's friend, aren't you?"

I hesitated, trying to think about how to answer the question, and I got the feeling that my hesitation amused her. "I... ah, yeah. Yeah, that's right. Ben. And you are...?"

"Deirdre," she said, extending a slender hand with nails painted black, "but most people call me Dee. Mind if I sit?"

I made a sweeping gesture. "Sure."

"Thanks," she said, regarding me with an expression that was still impossible to read. As she sat, she placed the cards on the small coffee table in front of us, and I realized they were Tarot. It might sound silly, but I shivered just a little. There was something about her manner that unnerved me.

And maybe I should take a moment just to describe Dee's appearance. She was a bit tall for a girl, essentially my height (5'9''), and slim. Her hair was dark and her eyes were brown, though in the shadows of Prince of Tides the latter appeared just as dark as her hair. She was wearing a sleeveless violet blouse with a long black skirt that reached her ankles- I think that's called a peasant skirt, I've always liked those- and a simple pair of heels that clicked on the floor a little as she took her seat across from me. The long skirt had a slit in it, and for just a second I thought I caught a glimpse of stocking-clad legs. In its tiny prison, my penis tried to grow. Nothing doing, of course, and I imagined Jessica giggling over the situation.

Then again, I tried to remind myself, there was no situation. This girl was just...

"So you're Jessica's friend?" I asked.

She didn't answer immediately, seemingly absorbed in the Tarot cards she was arranging on the table, face-down. Then she glanced up at me with what I had to consider a mischievous smile. "Yeah, you might say that." She then reached into the handbag she had around her shoulder, and produced an Alexander Hamilton. "Say, Ben, would you be a gentleman and order me a drink? I'll have whatever you're having."

"Gin and tonic?"

"Sounds great," she smiled.

I took the cash from her and looked around for a waitress, before I remembered...

"I think you have to go up to the bar," Dee smiled, and I got myself up from the table with a promptness that I could have sworn provoked another mischievous smile from her. At least, given the restrictions of the cage, I didn't have to worry that she or anyone else in the place was going to notice an erection.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't get another subby thrill ordering the drink for her, and then bringing it back to the table. I'd always enjoyed doing things for beautiful women. But quirky as she was, I didn't dare to hope that Dee's request meant anything other than that she was a Tarot-reading kook who tended to adopt an instant familiarity with friends of friends, asking them to get drinks for her and perhaps reading their palms in return. It made a bit of sense in my head, anyway.

She didn't read my palm; but when I returned with the drink, she did reward me with a warm smile, a "thank you," and a brief touch on the back of my hand. Then she returned her attention to laying out the Tarot cards.

Glancing up at the stage, I saw that Jessica was just about to start playing. I took a sip of my drink and regarded Dee regarding the cards. "Good thing we're not in Texas, we could be arrested for occultism."

Dee smiled perfunctorily at my lame joke.

"I really don't know much about Tarot," I continued. I told myself that she seemed to be absorbed in whatever she was doing, and probably didn't want to be bothered, but I couldn't help chattering.

She looked up at me, still smiling vaguely. "But Tarot knows a lot about you."

I chuckled and took another drink. "That's what they say, isn't it?"

Dee turned over one of the cards, but in the shadows of the bar I couldn't see the image very well. I wouldn't have known what it meant if I had. The truth, however, was that I was having a hard time not looking at Dee. Her dark hair just reaching her mostly bare shoulders, her black fingernails, the quiet clicks of her heels on the floor when she occasionally crossed or uncrossed her legs. Her smile. I wanted her. No, I wanted her and Jessica at the same time.

The cage suddenly felt very tight.

It got even tighter when Dee looked up again, just the hint of a sly smile on her face. Her big doe-like eyes seemed to be reading my mind. For a moment, I almost believed in the supernatural.

"She doesn't let you cum, does she?"

I almost spilled my gin and tonic, and I had to place it carefully on the table. Dee's sly smile remained, though she was now looking back down at the overturned card. I could almost believe the card had hipped her to the truth.

On stage, Jessica stepped forward to the microphone. I tried to say something, but all I could so was stammer.

Dee looked up at me again, still amused, but with a seriousness to her tone and expression. A sternness I hadn't noticed before. "Well?"

Still recovering, and with the sound of Jessica's voice and guitar suddenly filling the room, I managed to shake my head. "N... no, she doesn't."

Dee smiled a little more warmly, as if to say- there, that wasn't so difficult, was it?

Then she returned her attention to the cards, moving her hand across their expanse almost as if over a lover's back.

"Good," she said quietly, still smiling.