Those of you who have been following me for a while know about Paulo, the sentimental poet, who got a little too lost in the compelling world of his Mistress. I am, as you know, all about balancing extremes, and so you can imagine my delight when the sorry little fellow finally got himself a girlfriend – Fern.
Fern is five years younger than Paulo. Petite and freckled with red hair and a childlike voice, she reminds me of a character from a children’s fairytale. She’s saccharine sweet, and moreover, very open to Paulo’s established relationship with me. Especially because his being so frequently caged has created some very impressive oral talents, which he told me she was grateful for.
One afternoon, I told Paulo:
“Bring her along to meet me sometime – it will be fun.”
Paulo – usually so compliant – blanched at the suggestion. But after a little encouragement, he finally bought her along with him. The encouragement was that he could be uncaged for a whole week. Usually I give him periodic relief on a random timer. No more than three minutes, and Fern had to be satisfied first, so he practically never got to enjoy communion with her. He was fully aware of the weight of the gift I was offering to bestow upon him. You might say he had no choice but to comply.
But, the way he was watching us as I embraced her that afternoon – you’d think I was planning to steal her! Well. She was pretty. But I have many useless pretty things already, so he could keep her. I would have my fun first, of course. It is my nature.
“I’d like to have a word with you, Fern – in private, if you don’t mind.”
She giggled and Paulo looked incredibly worried. Taking her hand, I led her out of the room, shutting the door of the dungeon on Paulo. I’d let his vivid imagination take over from my whip today. For there is no torment more severe than an artist left alone with his mind – while his girlfriend is alone in the hands of his Mistress.
“What is it, Katia?” she giggled.
I asked her what she thought of Paulo being caged so often. She airily replied she didn’t mind, in fact he was very good at the other stuff, and if it made him happy, she was happy. It was, she said, almost pretty, the way it shone every morning between Paulo’s thighs as he rose from the bed to draw the curtains.
“How poetic,” I smiled, “Yes it is rather a pretty instrument. Almost makes you wish you had a cock, doesn’t it?”
Fern blushed. I was a sucker for that. She looked at her feet and swayed, so I took her chin in my hand and lifted her face so she could meet my gaze, and – sometimes I am told – my slightly intimidating smile.
“You know they make them for women too?”
“This is probably a crazy idea…”
“Tell me, Katia!”
“Would you, by chance, like to try on a chastity belt? I think I have a spare one around here somewhere that would fit. Nice and shiny. Bigger than Paulo’s too, but I imagine – and forgive me if I’m taking liberties here – you’ve had bigger than Paulo’s before…”
Fern didn’t disagree too quickly. Well. Hardly surprising. That’s why he comes to me, of course.
“Could I…?” She sounded hesitatant, but excited.
“Of course. What better way to empathize with dear Paulo’s plight?”
“Ah yes.” She sighed. “Dear Paulo…”
She smiled coquettishly as I took her hand and walked her down the hall to my lockbox. I could almost hear Paulo’s anguished thoughts in my mind as we walked. It was a pleasant soundtrack to imagine…