Veronica was a hard woman to talk to, but my current position made that even more true than usual. It wasn’t just because she’s 20 years older than me or because I’m in college and she’s a professional woman with a career. At this moment it was because my face was mashed between her incredible DD-cup breasts, making it hard for me to breathe, let alone talk. Nonetheless, she was yelling at me, “Apologize, you little loser. Apologize for being such a desperate pervert.” I tried my best, I really did, but it all came out as muffled sounds.
On her latest visit, she helped herself to use of my computer and easily found all the websites I’d been browsing, something she didn’t approve of, “You know your orgasms belong to me, boy. I won’t have you looking at pornography and playing with that little cock of yours when I’m away.” I’d tried to stammer a response, but instead just looked down in shame. It was then that she pulled me forward and held my face into her deep cleavage. My arms flailed a bit, but I quickly realized my place and endured the discomfort while trying to find the obvious pleasure of having my face between her glorious breasts. As I said, I tried to apologize into her breasts, but she seemed to take no notice, “Well, if you’re so unapologetic, you’ll definitely have to be punished. Fortunately, I’d planned on your weakness already.” She pushed me away, leaving me gasping for air while she reached into her bag to pull out an odd hunk of clear plastic.
“This, boy, is a chastity belt. You will be required to wear it and I will be your sole key-holder. It will be up to me to decide if and when you will have your next orgasm.” As I was already naked, she simply handed it to me and told me to put it on. As strange as the thing looked, it quickly became apparent how it was meant to fit. She tilted her head while looking me over, my cock held in a tube of plastic. Her appraising look turned to a grin of delight as she knelt down to attach the lock. I couldn’t help but look at her bare thigh above her stockings when she moved to kneel, making my cock hard. Or trying to. I winced in pain as my cock strained in the plastic cage, unable to become erect. Mistress Veronica noticed immediately and giggled at the sight, “Oh, you’re free to continue looking at all that nasty pornography, since you seem unable to do without it. The only difference now is that you won’t be able to jack off or orgasm while you ‘enjoy’ it.” After clicking the lock closed, she held the small key in one hand. Casually, she reached into her bag again with the other hand and pulled out a key ring which must have held at least two dozen similar keys, adding mine to the collection. Grinning again, she responded to my shocked expression, “Yes, as you could probably guess, these keys all correspond to other little losers like you, locked up in cages. When you and I meet again next week, and if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you choose one of the keys. If it fits your lock, you may jack off one time before I lock you back up. If not, tough luck: you can try again the following week, or whenever I get around to bothering with you. But hey, enjoy your porn!”
She obviously got off on having control of so many guys and so many orgasms, and I could only imagine what some of the others were going through and how long some have endured without even a single orgasm. That didn’t concern Mistress Veronica, though, and she also later made it clear that I’d be expected to lick her pussy to no less than five orgasms during our weekly session if I wanted to have a chance at choosing from one of the 25-30 keys in hopes that it’s mine. What else could I say but, “Yes Mistress.”?