The Keyholder: Part 1
- 2 months ago
- 13 min read
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The basement apartment was perfect.
Perfect location. Perfect size. Perfect rent, meaning that it was low.
As Adam stood in front of the row house waiting for the landlord to come out and give him a tour, he hoped silently that she hadn't already made up her mind to go with another tenant.
But when she emerged from the front door a moment later, he forgot the apartment entirely. She was gorgeous. Just his type. Wearing a clinging sweater and a figure hugging knee length skirt. Also, he could tell she was a good bit older than him, by maybe ten years or so. He had a thing for older women—just one of his "things," and he could feel his cock straining against its snug metal cage underneath of his pants.
That was another one of his "things."
He regretted wearing the cage now, although he wore it most days, and he had started feeling naked without it. But he hadn't expected—this. This woman who was efficiently making her way down her front steps with a playful smile and her well-manicured hand outstretched in a greeting. She made him feel extremely conscious of it all of a sudden.
"Hello, there," she said. "Don't you look like a fine, upstanding young man. I'm Joyce. Nice to meet you."
She laughed a little, and Adam couldn't tell if she was joking or not.
"Thank you," he stuttered. "Adam." He could feel himself blushing. "I try to be." All the while was acutely aware of his cock trying to break out and retreating, and he suddenly felt horrified that she would KNOW.
But she couldn't know, he reminded himself. There was no way for her to know. His cage fit well. He wore it all the time. No one could see it under the dark fabric of his pants. So, he took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the reason he was here—the apartment.
"Hello, Adam." She continued, taking out a set of keys, which Adam tried hard not to start at too deeply. They reminded him of HIS key. And seeing her hold them made him wish for a keyholder of his own—a woman, like Joyce, who would have the control over him that he craved.
"I've had a few applicants already, but I haven't made up my mind. I am really looking for someone who can be helpful once in a while. I mean, not ALL the time. But since my divorce, I admit sometimes things get a bit screwy, and it would be nice to have a tenant who could help me out a little. That's why the rent is low. Is that something you would be open to?"
"Oh!" He realized he said that too loudly.
Joyce looked startled. "I don't mean I plan to take advantage," she said, quickly. "Just small things, like when the smoke detector went off and I couldn't figure out how to get it to stop. Or when there was a brick loose on the front stairs."
"Oh, no," he said. The idea of helping Joyce out with her chores made the apartment even that much more valuable. If only she'd known he would have paid extra for the privilege. "I'd be fine with that," he said. "I'm very handy. I wouldn't mind at all."
She smiled. "What a catch! Then let me show you the place. Okay?"
Adam blushed again at the compliment. He followed her down the narrow staircase to the basement and waited as she fumbled with the lock to let him inside.
Inside, the apartment was just as nice as it had looked in the pictures.
"Take your time," she said. "Take a look around. Let me know if you have any questions."
The apartment was totally unfurnished except for a sofa in the middle of the living room.
"The last tenant left that," she said. You can keep it, or I can get rid of it for you.
"Thanks," he said. "I could use a couch." And he began his inspection of the place, turning on and off lights, checking out the laundry nook, the bathroom, the small bedroom, the kitchen. Everything looked clean and in shape. He couldn't believe his luck.
"So, you're a student?" Joyce asked, conversationally.
"Grad student," said Adam. "I'm studying engineering."
"That's nice," she said. "That's a lucrative field to be in."
"I hope so," he said. He was in the kitchen now, making sure the fridge worked.
"Any girlfriends? It's not that I mind. I just want to know who might be around....Or boyfriends?"
He laughed politely, trying to pretend that he didn't wish Joyce was asking for a reason other than pure safety.
"No girlfriends," he said. "Or boyfriends."
He added too quickly, "But I'm more interested in girlfriends." And then he wondered if that had sounded desperate. But if Joyce had noticed, she didn't comment on it.
Then he started opening up the kitchen cabinets, seeing how much space was available for his stuff. One drawer was sticky.
"Are you now..." She was leaning up against the wall next to the front door, tracing a pattern on the tile floor with her foot. "No girlfriend? A cute young thing like you?"
It almost sounded like she was flirting with him, but he realized that was crazy. His cage was getting to him.
He pulled hard on the drawer, and at the same time, Joyce called, "Oh, wait, Adam! Stop. It's broken!"
But it was too late. He pulled harder, and the drawer suddenly came unstuck and flew straight into his groin, the corner of it hitting straight onto his cage.
"Oh, my god!" He doubled over, instinctively. The pain was intense, partially because of the way the drawer had knocked into the metal and partially because he was already so swollen. It had been weeks since he'd allowed himself an orgasm. He'd been engrossed in studying, so it had been okay, but now being around Joyce, he was already feeling desperate. The combination of both knocked the wind out of him.
Joyce was at his side in a second. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I am so, so sorry. Are you okay?" She leaned over him, and her top dipped lower so her ample bosom was straight in his line of view.
"You're not okay. That damned drawer! I meant to tell you. Are you....she looked down at his crotch...are you injured?"
"No. No. It's okay," he managed to croak, but he realized he didn't sound reassuring. There was no way to explain that the closer Joyce got to him, the closer those breasts were to his face, the closer he could smell whatever delicious perfume she had on, the more it was making his cock swell inside of its cage.
"I really think you're not okay," she said. "Look. Let me just check. I'm worried you're seriously hurt." And before he could stop her, she reached out and touched his cock over his pants.
"No!" He said.
But it was too late. A curious expression was already on her face.
And as soon as he felt the pressure of her hand, he moaned. He moaned.
He actually moaned out loud.
"Oh, my god," he said again, but this time he wasn't sure if it was from pain, desire or mortification.
Joyce's entire demeanor suddenly changed. She went from worried to smirking in the space of ten seconds.
"Adam, what have you got going on down there?"
And instead of taking her hand away, she gripped a little harder, feeling her way around the outline of the cage.
"Oh, my," she said. "Is that what I think it is?"
Adam was so flustered he didn't know what to do. Should he tell her to remove her hand? That was the last thing he wanted. But he was so engorged. He needed relief. And he hadn't even brought his key with him. He kept it at home frozen in an ice cube so he wouldn't be tempted to use it...just like he wished his keyholder would to do him, if he had one. And now Joyce was going to be disgusted and he wouldn't get the apartment. God, he wanted to come! God, he wanted out of his cage.
He started to cry. Silently at first, but Joyce's hand was still there. Massaging? Was she massaging his caged cock? And a moan slipped out, followed by a sob.
"Are you crying?"
"No." He didn't want her to see.
"You are," said Joyce. "Poor baby." She took her hand off his cock and took his hand instead.
"Come over here." She led him over to the couch, and he let her guide him, pull him down next to her. The pain was fading, but the arousal wasn't, especially now that her body was pressed up against his, her hand on one of his thighs, and the embarrassment was even stronger.
"So, tell me about that," she said, her eyes darting over his crotch.
"I don't....I don't want to," he said, unsure if he meant it or not. What would he tell her? What could he tell her? "It's...embarrassing."
"Do you want the apartment," she asked, coolly.
"You're still going to rent me the apartment?" That thought had ceased to be a possibility to him the second the drawer had come unstuck.
"It depends," she said. "Are you going to tell me about that?" And with that, she put her hand on top of his cage again, letting it rest there lightly.
He felt dazed. "It's a cage," he admitted.
"For your cock," she finished. "It's a cock cage. A chastity cage. Isn't it?"
He gasped. "How did you know?"
She laughed. "Adam, I've been around the block a time or two. It's not like I don't know what a chastity cage is. I just never expected a cute young thing like you to show up at my front door wearing one. And to think, I almost had that drawer fixed yesterday."
Adam was shocked. Joyce looked so proper. His mind raced.
"Let me see it," she ordered.
"Yes. Pull down your pants. I want to see it."
See it! She wanted to see it? Adam had dreamed of a moment like this, but now that it was here and not just a fantasy in his head, he was gripped by mortification. His cock looked so small in the cage. Helpless. That was part of what he liked about it. But what if Joyce laughed at it? At him?
"I don't know if I can do it," he admitted. "No one but me has ever seen it before."
"Do you want the apartment?"
"Yes! Oh, yes!"
"Then let me see it."
Her hands were lightly tracing the outside of the cage under the fabric of his pants. She deftly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. "See. I'll do half the work for you."
"You might laugh at me." He frowned. The tears felt like they might come again.
"I won't laugh," she promised, solemnly. "Not at you."
He knew his face was flaming red, but he managed to lift himself up enough to pull his pants and underwear down so they rested below his knees. Then he was naked from the waist down on the couch, his chastity cage on full display to Joyce. He had never felt so vulnerable before. Or so horny.
"Well, isn't that cute," said Joyce, fingering his caged cock.
The feel of her skin everywhere except his cock itself was maddening. True to her word, she didn't laugh. But she did grin in a way that made Adam feel desperate and nervous at the same time.
"Aren't you cute," she said. "Cute enough to eat up."
And she climbed on top of him on the couch, her skirt riding up, and kissed him hard on the mouth, biting at his lips. She also started grinding against his cage, the pressure painfully pleasurable.
"Oh, ma'am," he whispered, not even realizing what he'd said until it had come out from his lips.
"Oh, yes. Ma'am" She took a break from kissing him. "I think we're going to get along very well, Adam."
"Ma'am," he whined. "I'm so swollen. Please. It feels so good, but I'm so swollen."
"I know, baby. I can tell. Poor boy." She cupped his full balls and squeezed lightly. "You ARE full. We'll have to do something about that. But not quite yet."
"Do I have the apartment," he asked. "Can I live here?" The apartment and the pain and the pleasure and the desire and Joyce were all mixed together now in a way he couldn't understand, but just knew he needed.
"Well," she said, evenly. "There's just one little test left. Maybe we can call it a background check."
"Oh. Yes, ma'am. Please. Tell me what it is."
"I'll just show you," she said.
She climbed off his lap and arranged herself on the couch, slipping a pair of red panties from beneath her skirt and onto the floor.
"Let's see how industrious you are, Adam. Let's see what kind of help you can provide. I did say I was looking for good help. Didn't I?"
She hitched up her skirt, so he could see the small triangle of neatly trimmed thatch in the v of her thighs. Then she opened them wide.
The invitation was unmistakable.
She didn't have to tell him twice. He fell to the floor and buried his face between her legs, coating his mouth and cheeks in her wetness. He wasn't sure what she liked, how to do a good job. He didn't have much experiences—just eagerness. But he didn't need it. She grabbed the back of his head with both hands and pulled his face into her pussy so he could barely breathe, grinding her clit against him.
Meanwhile, he was aching so much, he wanted to explode.
"That's it," she coaxed, working herself against him. "Right there. Good boy. Keep still. I'm almost there already. You got me so worked up. It won't be long."
He didn't move. He just let her use him as she liked, and a powerful wave of calm washed over him.
This was everything he had been looking for.
"Good boy." Her thighs tensed against his skull. "Keep your tongue nice and flat, just like that. You don't need to do anything else. I'll do all the work." She grabbed his hair and held him still. "Almost. Almost."
It was hard. He needed to breathe, but he knew what was expected of him.
"Shhh," she coaxed, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, his limits and just how far she could push them. And then she let out a delighted squeal, her hands gripping even harder in his hair, her pussy clamped over his mouth and pulsing against him.
After she was done, she let him slump to the ground and rest his face against her leg. He had never felt so satisfied or so horny in his entire life. His cock strained against the inside of the metal, and he felt tingly and high, and yet content. This was where he was meant to me.
She petted him gently, and he sighed in affection and frustration against her smooth skin.
Finally, she spoke.
"Well done, Adam. I'll take first month's deposit in sweat equity," she said, with an easy laugh, that he knew wasn't at him but for him.
"You can move in tomorrow. Don't forget to bring MY key. But, don't worry. I don't think we'll be needing it for a while.