Bradley Jones's Chastity - Chapter 13 (Free Read!)
Femdom romance in a world where Chaste is an identity and the NHS installs permanent chastity devices.
A soft breast bumps my shoulder. A freckled arm reaches past with a bottle of red wine. “More wine, madam? Sir?”
I recognise the soft Irish accent, get a vision of pale freckled skin, rosy nipples and rosy inner vaginal lips glinting from behind a fuzz of red pubic hair. RedRunner, it seems, is on the waiting staff tonight (a charity fund raiser... something to do with “scholarships for future female leaders”, and yes the Artemis Foundation is a major donor.)
My penis goes off like an air bag, fills the chastity cage until it prickles. The stern Victorian ladies around the Institute’s wood-panelled walls look at me sternly from within gilded frames.
I squirm in my chair. “Uh...”
“Yes please,” drawls Mariella beside me. She puts an elegant hand on my arm and now I’m remembering how I pounded the out-sized dildo into the blond cougar while she encouraged me with a kick of her boot heels. I shudder and wonder what the evening will bring... will I get to taste her this time?
RedRunner leans between us, all loose red hair, short apron and shorter skirt. She gives me a lewd wink that sends a jolt to my caged groin.
December is less than six months away, but it feels like I have to wait a lifetime to get shot of the Chaste Maker device and wank myself back into what Ada called “post nut clarity”.
How did I end up as Mariella’s escort ?
I really do mean escort.
Mariella rang me to invite me to be her short-notice “plus one”.
I explained I’d quit my job --- I still get nightmares about Lydia and her bolt cutter, only she wants to apply it to my actual nuts! --- and was planning to do the rounds of the bars and restaurants looking for cash-in-hand work.
“Oh,” drawled Mariella in her unbearably sexy upper-class accent, “I’ll make it worth your while, then. We can do the whole thing ‘off app’.”
So that’s this week’s rent sorted. I just have to be a charming ornament now, and a disposable sex toy later. Currently, I’m sitting back out of the way so Mariella can talk past me to the woman on my right who has a Very Large Town House to refurbish.
Mariella has cat-on-heat perfume and a voice that would sound wicked just reading from a software license, so it’s not a terrible fate. I could do a lot worse than basically whoring myself to her...
A movement catches my eye.
My friend Minnie takes vacant seat further down the table. She waves cheerfully at me.
I wave back and feel a little envious --- marriage suits her.
There’s a flash of green and Caroline Darcy slips into the place beside her. Minnie’s not here with her wife.
I have time to think, of course Minnie and Caroline are old friends.
Then Caroline’s uncanny brown eyes widen and I fall into her gaze.
The lawyer is wearing the pleated green dress from the night when she beat me until I bled. It’s easy to recall her lithe form and firm breasts beneath the sheer fabric. My penis thrums and throbs while the memories blur into a vortex of pain and desire, funnelling my gaze back to her unearthly brown orbs.
RedRunner appears with wine at Caroline’s elbow.
Caroline flushes and breaks the gaze.
There’s some interaction that gets a grin from RedRunner. She tucks a tendril of red hair behind her ear.
I have a sudden flash of jealousy. Who will be going home with whom tonight?
“That’s Minnie’s friend, isn’t it?” drawls Mariella.
“Yes. Caroline Darcy,” I say. “Top lawyer.”
“Quite a looker, that one.”
“I suppose...”
Very Large Town House Lady turns out to be a director of Something Important and quickly writes me off as exactly what I am. The gay couple across the table, however, are mid-thirties professionals and full of hair-raising stories of foreign travel --- Lydia would like them, but I just feel envious of their bond. One of them keeps glancing at my collar --- horror or planning a new adventure? Hard to tell.
But that splash of emerald green in my peripheral vision is making it harder and harder to sit still. When a woman gets up to make a long worthy speech, I excuse myself and go find the Gents.
The Institute is a warren. I follow the “More Toilets Upstairs” sign to find a secluded bathroom. I don’t need privacy to use a urinal, but right now I do need a quiet space without any women in it!
My chastity tube is drippy and it takes a moment or two before I’m soft enough to pee.
I dab water on the my face and the back of my neck under the glass collar. It doesn’t help much. I’ve barely had any wine, but I still feel stoned on second hand desire. Finally, I stumble out into the corridor.
Caroline is standing there like a vision. “Bradley. I have something to say to you.”
There’s that slight lisp, a hint of a wet click to remind the listener of her full lips. I blink up at her, not sure whether to flee or kiss her neat painted toenails where her leather sandals leave them bare.
She regards me with pursed lips. When I remain silent, she says, “I’m so sorry. I should have called you.”
I start. “What? To persuade me to give up my orgasm for good?”
“To say apologise for beating you bloody, you idiot!” Caroline collects her self, and continues, her voice clipped as if reciting a prepared speech: “And then I was rude to you at the hotel.”
“Wittily rude,” I correct, which earns me a surprisingly shy smile. “And you were right about Lydia. She actually wanted to cut off my collar!”
“Really...?” There’s an amused twinkle in her wide brown eyes. She shakes her head and holds up a hand. “Let me finish! You see, sadomasochism was actually Lydia’s thing. I’m afraid her influence turned me into something of a monster. The morning after our... encounter, I saw how bloody the towels were and decided I really don’t want to be that monster. Since then, I’ve been trying to have a normal love life, with varying success.”
“Normal?” I could have done normal for her. Then I remember what else happened at the hotel. “You sounded damned successful to me.”
She blinks at me. “Pardon?”
“At the hotel. You had sex with the window open. You’re not exactly quiet when you have an orgasm.”
Her eyes gain a liquid glaze. Then a perfectly formed tear runs down her cheek. “Oh, Bradley.” She sniffs. “I was thinking about you.”
“What?” My penis twitches in its cage. “Thinking about beating me?”
“No... well yes... but no. I mean, I was thinking about the way you look at me.”
“Caroline! Everybody looks at you that way. Didn’t you notice your effect on Red... the red haired waitress?”
Caroline shakes her head. “No they do not. All I see people who want to show me off, or have me get them off. Or maybe rub off against me --- that happens, you know. You’re different, Bradley.”
I laugh. “It’s not like I have a choice!” I tap my crotch and shrug.
Now the tall scary lawyer who made me actually bleed sniffs like she’s going to really blub. “Please, Bradley. Say it’s more than that.”
“I...” I struggle for the words. “I look at you and I just have this stupid urge to drop to my knees and worship you.
“That’s...”
I tense while my penis flexes in anticipation. What? So fucked up? So paraphiliac?
Is she going to slap me again?
“...so romantic,” she completes. Caroline throws her arms around my neck and stoops to kiss me like she did in the shower all those weeks ago. She tastes of lipstick and red wine and I ache to drink her in, to wallow in her.
A spasm runs through my body. I get my arms around her slender waist, clamp her to me.
Her ever-pouting lips part, her tongue flickers.
I slide my own tongue past her teeth, grind my cage-neutered groin into her crotch.
Caroline emits a throaty groan. One hand detaches from my neck, trails a nail down my shirted back.
I shudder, tear my mouth free, then kiss her neck above the high collar of her green dress. She tilts her head and I kiss my way up under her jaw, tasting her skin through her perfume.
Caroline lets out squeak, curls a foot around my shin as if she wants to trip me. “Oh My God!”
I glance over her shoulder. The door across the hall says “Members Library”. I gently pivot us around so I can reach the handle. It turns noisily and the door opens on a darkened Victorian library. The only light comes from the street lamps beyond the old-fashioned sash windows.
Caroline slips inside and perches her bottom on a reading desk.
After a couple of attempts, I manage to get the door to close properly.
She braces her long legs to form a tight V. “What if somebody comes in?”
“We’ll hear the noise,” I say, padding closer.
Caroline extends her shapely right foot and it’s natural to fall to my knees and kiss her toes. They’re cold but the salt taste goes straight to my caged groin.
She gasps. “You were serious about kissing my feet. ”
I run my hands slowly up her leg, moulding her calf muscle then her knee, then up under her silk slip to explore her slender thigh and snag the waistband of her thong. As my hands rise, so too does the pressure in my chastity cage.
Caroline’s fingers stroke my hair. When she finally speaks, there’s that wet click in her voice. “What exactly do you have in mind, Mr Jones?”
I slide my left around, over her flat belly, and find the other side of her thong. Slowly, I draw the flimsy garment down over her long legs.
There’s a clumsy moment disentangling them from her sandals.
Then Caroline sighs and shuffles her feet further apart.
Reverently, I lift her green pleats and the silk underskirt to unveil the magic between her thighs.
Her swollen inner lips glisten from behind a fuzz of dark pubic hair. Her musk hits me like blast of hot air from a furnace.
I duck forward, crane my neck and take her whole furry vulva between my lips and let her skirts fall and cloak off the world.
Her taste bursts onto my tongue, triggering a wet pulse in my own lost groin. I trawl my tongue up through the salty, slippery folds and there’s her clitoris, big and proud.
I suck it like a nipple, flick it with my tongue.
Caroline shudders, lets out her throaty squeal, the one that sounds like a mating fox.
There’s an answering wet pulse in my groin.
I open my mouth until my jaw aches, push my tongue deep between her lips to catch the opening to her vagina and suck.
Juices cascade into my mouth, fill the back of my throat. The taste spirals down through me to twist a knot in my caged groin.
I drag my tongue up between her lips, gathering more juices and treat her big clitoris to a grinding flick!
Caroline gasps, squirms, squeals.
Again there’s an answering wet pulse in my groin.
I kneel there licking and sucking Caroline’s pussy while she squirms and gasps and its as if each time drop of precious vaginal juice sears its way down into my groin, then pulses past the piercing hook to escape the engorged slit of my lost penis.
Caroline shifts, thrusting her vulva into my face. Her thighs tense around my cheeks. She lets out a muffled squeal --- she must have an arm clamped to her mouth --- then another one that’s more of a cry then another...
And my groin, which is already rock hard, hardens further. There’s a prickling sensation like a thousand stars burning in the dark.
Caroline seems to give up self-muffling and cries,“Oh my god oh my god! Oh My God!”
Everything goes black.
I come too, with my magic boxers soaked in semen. Thank god they’re designed to be absorbent!
The skirts lift away
I kneel back, still squelchy wet down there. For some reason, I’m weeping.
Caroline rearranges herself primly then laughs. “You look like you’re about to propose!”
I grin through my tears. “I think you’re out of my league, Miss Darcy.”
Somebody claps. A feminine voice drawls, “Bravo! Well done!”
Mariella stands in an open doorway we hadn’t noticed --- the door itself is camouflaged with fake book spines and it must have opened very quietly indeed. Her blond hair is luminous in the half-light from the library windows, which throws her laughter lines into relief. Her red lips are creased into a voluptuous grin.
“Mariella!” I rise and try to brush away the tears, only manage to smear Caroline’s juices over my face.
“Some harlot you are, Bradley,” says Mariella. “You went off and serviced the wrong woman.”
Caroline draws herself up. “I am so very sorry. He didn’t say he was with you.”
Mariella laughs. “It’s OK. He was only an escort and I think I got my money’s worth just watching you two.” She flashes her white teeth. “Though I’d pay anything to watch you two fuck.”
Caroline crosses her ankles. There’s a dangerous fire in her big brown eyes. It’s how she looked when she offered me the choice of going home or watching her undress and taking a severe beating. “It so happens,” she says, “the my house is a mere two minutes walk from here.”
My sticky penis wakes in its cage.
“Oh.” Now Mariella shifts her weight from elegantly shod foot to the other. “I’ve never done... I mean...”
Black heels and bare legs suit her, as does the grey-and-black speckled mini-dress.
Caroline seems to think so too, judging by the way she’s looking the older woman up and down.
“We wouldn’t have to...?” says Mariella. “I mean I would just be watching.”
“Absolutely,” says Caroline.
Mariella grins. “Oh, what the hell, let’s go then.”
A few minutes later, we set off into the summer night, the two women arm-in-arm and comparing notes on getting divorced while their skirts froth around their sleek thighs, me trailing behind like a slave.
Nobody asked me what I wanted, but somehow that makes me feel like I’m doing a good job.
Weirdly, it also gets me painfully hard in my cage.
While you’re waiting for the next episode, click through to see my other chastity erotica…
I bet Bradley can't wait for his lock to be removed, Female attention seems to be a regular thing that he can't fully enjoy . The frustration must be delightful
Bradley came so hard he Cried. That must have been explosive. Caroline sounds like my kind of women. Great Read. Loving this story. Thank you Giles.