After trying to get her alone all night I finally managed to corner Heather in her kitchen, the dull chatter of the eight or so other guests in the background.  She'd come in to get another bottle of wine and I knew this would probably me my best chance, so I'd tried to casually follow her.

 

            "Heather, can I have it please?"  Fingers crossed that she'd just hand it over, but as she'd been avoiding being alone with me all night, that didn't seem too likely.

 

            Her back too me, reaching for the bottle, "I'm sorry, what are you looking for?" A bit of coyness in her voice.

 

            "This isn’t funny.  I told you Amy and I were hitting it off and she's here and I'd really like to avoid a…"  my voice trailing off for a moment, "an embarrassing situation.  Please, may I have it?" A tone of desperation already in my voice.

 

            "Oh yes, I forgot to tell you she was coming tonight."  A pause, her words linger in the air and I have to fight back the urge to comment on her phrasing.  "In fact, I think the main reason she's here is that I told her the other day you'd be here."  A smile firmly planted on her face, the bottle of wine now in her hands.

 

            "Look, I know you're having some fun here, but please?"

 

            "Honestly, I can't."

 

            Not quite hearing her words, "This isn't funny.  Please?"

 

            "I said, I can't." 

 

            "Can't?"  Confusion and a sinking feeling in the pit of my belly.  'Can't' wasn't a word I wanted to hear just now.  Not when the person holding the key I so desperately wanted was telling me she 'can't' give it to me. 

 

Not for the first time, I cursed myself for playing this little game with Heather.  We wouldn't do it all the time, but perhaps once a month or so, one of us would bring it up.  Sometimes I'd mail her the key or she'd hint around at wanting to have it.  Of course, they key itself was just a key and not the real point of anything.  It's the simple way we'd refer to things – I guess we both felt a little foolish about talking about it directly, but foolish isn't the right word, at saying exactly what was going on. 

 

            The game, as I liked to think of it, was simple.  The key was just a tiny key, one of the smallest I'd ever seen and it fit a matching small padlock.  To normal folks, a padlock is a padlock, doesn't matter how big it is, once it's locked you're not going to get off.  Sure you can try to pick it, but like I said, to the average person, you're not going to get very far.  Anyway, once the lock was on and the key was in her hand, the game was on. 

 

The lock secured a plastic cage, you can google cb-2000 if you want see just what sort of plastic cage I'm talking about, that made it impossible for me to get hard.  I could try and swell and swell, but getting anywhere near fully hard just wasn't possible, which means having an orgasm just wasn't possible, which means sexual frustration grows and grows.  Right now, my goal was to get the key, get the cage off and try not to make a mess of things with Amy. 

 

            "That's right, I don't have it."  The laughing glint in her eye told me two things: first, she hadn't lost it or anything like that; second, she was greatly enjoying the situation and the sinking feeling was quickly turning to outright indigestion. 

 

            "Where is it?"

 

            "Ask nicely…" 

 

            With a quick glance to the door and murderous thought in my head, "Please Miss Heather, will you tell me where the key is?"  Hoping, despite knowing it wouldn't be the case, that the key was upstairs or someplace where I could just run and grab it.

 

            The Cheshire-grin spread across her face as her hands fiddle with the neck of the bottle.  "First, won't you open this?" 

 

            I probably wasn't doing half as good a job as I thought at keeping an even look on my face as I took the bottle and picked up the opener.  As I turned the screw into the cork she said, "How ironic, you're doing two things right now that you'd probably pay a good bit of money to do…" 

 

            I closed my eyes for a brief moment to calm myself.  It was a terrible pun of sorts – my opening something and screwing were what she meant.  Truth be told, she was probably right, I would pay money to open the plastic cage in my pants and to be able to screw someone.  The somewhat curious happenings in the past week were beginning to make sense.

 

            The way things started and usually went, was she'd take the key if she was feeling horny – of course that was what was in it for her.  No need to worry about friends-with-benefits trying to become more or relationships that turn bad – she'd been there and done that.  She'd openly declared she wasn't going to date anyone; that she was going to get her life in order before trying to find Mrs. Right again.  A noble goal, but one that doesn't mean she didn't get frisky.  And let's face it, masturbation only goes so far, especially when she could have own real life sex-toy; which is something we'd joked about from time to time. 

 

            With me, she didn't have to worry about sex or entangled relationships.  It was oral sex or fingers or whatever she felt like, when she felt like it.  For me it was exploring this kinky little interest of mine and being taught the ins and outs of oral sex by a lesbian and.  We both knew the limits and there was much danger in our crossing them.  Usually the game was just over a weekend, perhaps three days at most.  I knew I'd be for a heck of a lot of teasing – try, if you can, to imagine how frustrating it is to want to get hard, but literally can't. 

 

Everything, and more, that normally excites you still does, but it's compounded by not being able to get hard.  Since she held the key, the mere sight of her would be enough to get me to feel horny.  Actually, her just logging on to IM would be enough for me to feel an attempt to swell.  Just how long the cage would stay on and what would happen was up to her, so it was very much in my best interest to keep her happy.  Hence the "Miss Heather" and my opening the bottle, little things like that were very commonplace once she had the key.  It was an interesting dynamic that carried over in some subtle ways to when she didn't have the key, but that's neither here nor there at the moment.

 

This last teasing session, as I like to think of them, started Wednesday – ten days ago.  Upon getting home from work, I'd gotten an email from her saying she wanted to try something different that weekend and she didn’t want me to masturbate, but as we weren't going to see each other until then, there was no need for the lock and key.  We'd dabbled in this, in fact that's how things started control/teasing-wise.  I'm not sure which is more frustrating: wanting to get hard and not being able to or getting hard and not releasing. 

 

Of course her email caused an instant erection and I'd sent back a reply asking if I could touch at all.   Her answer was simple, do whatever I wanted, but no orgasm and, as much as possible, to give her the details of what transpired.  In other words, she wanted me to be as horny as possible for the weekend.  Keep in mind, in the past three days I'd probably masturbated six or eight times.  Suddenly stopping when your body is used to that kind of pattern only adds to the frustration. 

 

Over the few days, there were constant streams of emails and IM's between us, even a phone conversation or two, but nothing too steamy there.  All the time her interest was focused on keeping me hard, encouraging me to tease myself, to imagine what she had in mind.  From Wednesday night to Friday evening, I, at her urging and my own horny willingness, probably teased myself to the edge no less than fifteen times (taking out work time and the two partial days of Wednesday and Friday, that's a good guess I think) and got hard countless times. 

 

All the normal things in a day that can suddenly take on an extra sexual edge like: a pretty girl in the elevator with a nice whiff of perfume, waking up rock hard and wanting, a text message from her asking if I was hard (always sure to make me so if I wasn't), daydreams about what she had in mind, the simple way breasts bounce when a woman walks, the swivel of hips, the lovely image of rounded rump as she bends over to get something, trying to catch a peek down a blouse, and so much more.  Never mind that Heather would also send a link or two to a porn site and other more overt things to help the teasing along.   

 

Suffice it to say, upon getting to her house, the cage went on (a tricky thing to do with a member that's so very wanting to have an orgasm) and things suddenly feel back to normal.  Normal of course being, all the stimulation she wanted.  I was on a whole new level of frustration, since I wanted to know what the surprise was, but couldn't ask – lest she get annoyed and decide not to do it… and after this much teasing and waiting, I was damn well going to find out.

 

Finally on Sunday, she told me the surprise: instead of just two or three days of teasing, she'd decided to up the ante to the cage for a full week.  Basically triple the normal time of nine days locked up (Wednesday didn't count since I'd masturbated that morning, only full days count). 

 

The week was maddening and that's all that needs said here.  The deal was, Friday, today, she'd be having her once-a-month movie party with various folks over.  I'd get the key at the end of the night.  The twist was that Amy was here.  We'd hit it off pretty well the time or two we'd met before, but she'd been seeing someone then.  About two weeks ago they'd broken up and I was seeing tonight as my chance to ask her out – not something I wanted to do with the cage locked tight around me.  It was all good and kinky fun Heather and I were having, but this wasn't something I wanted full-time or for anyone else to know about.  In fact, mortified isn't a strong enough word for how I'd feel if Amy were to stumble across my little secret. 

 

With a nice pop the cork came out and I handed the bottle back to Heather, "Miss Heather, might you tell me where the key is now?"

 

Time stood still as she replied, "The key is in a locket, which is in a little jewelry box that I gave to Amy."