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 member with such focused frustration, one might almost think he was willing it to turn into an actual tool.
“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 wont get any satisfaction from trying.”
Paulo shot me a sideways glance.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry. I forgot. How insensitive of me.”
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 toilet, She’d just have to clean vigorously. Or have Paulo attend to that.
Poor fellow. 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. His penis fell from his grasp. What was the point?
As I sent them off to get dressed, 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 despondancy. “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.