Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.
*****
Please read Mistress Keera Parts 1 to 4 for context.
As the doorbell rang so too did my phone.
I heard, with some relief, Mistress Keera say, "bitchboy, Mr. Currant will be calling to assemble some shoe racks and to do some work in the garage, help him out."
I assured her I would and opened the door. Mr Currant had a hearty laugh when he saw the way I was dressed.
He shouted "Stuart, start bringing in the gear."
He then directed me to show him the garage. This I did. He seemed interested in the heaviest roof crosspiece and told me to stand directly underneath it. I was then told to reach my hands as high as they would go. He took some measurements and muttered to himself under his breath. While I stood there with my hands raised he told me he was going to examine my locked on heels and my chastity. He spent some time looking at the chains padlocked on the shoes, tutting all the while. Then without warning he lifted my little skirt, and, pulling down my thong examined in embarrassingly minute detail my yellow chastity cage. He pulled it away from my body, putting extra strain on my poor little danglers. He jiggled it up and down. He pulled me about by the padlock, he tried to poke the head of my little excitement through the peehole. In short, he did everything painfully possible to try to extract me from my penile prison. When he was satisfied that it was escape proof he jerked my knickers back into place, lowered my skirt and with a slap on my arse, dismissed means told me to go help Stuart.
I went back into the house to find Stuart. He was a tall muscular young man, early 20's clad in black Snickers work trousers and a matching T-shirt. He smirked when he saw my attire, a look of derisive contempt tinged with a lustful leer that made me shiver. I showed him the way to my Mistress's bedroom and he commanded me to bring up his toolbox and materials.
"If they are not too heavy for a girly like you!"
I loathed him and his arrogant manner straight off, but fetched and carried, getting his gear and then a large glass of water when he directed me. We worked for the first hour without incident.
Then Mr. Currant called up the stairs " Stuart, I've got to go an see to an urgent call out. Will you be alright?"
"Sure boss, no probs."
He turned to me and said, "Get me a beer or two babes."
I glared at him but tramped down to the kitchen returning with two cold beers. He drank both down quickly and said "Same again, love."
I opened my mouth to say, when he waggled his finger and said "Just let me call..."
I didn't wait to find out who he was going to call, just hurried downstairs and brought him back up two more beers. Again we worked away until we almost had the two racks assembled. The last piece involved me holding the top bar at about head height, well my head anyway, while he fixed it in place at both ends. I was stood almost on tiptoe with my arms extended completely. This caused my little skirt to ride up and put most of my panties on show. I was concentrating hard so when I thought I felt something brush my thigh I put it down to imagination. There was no mistaking the next minute when a hand cupped my arse cheek. Well, I'm not proud to say it, but a ran. I dropped the crosspiece and hared down the stairs.
I thought if I can get to the garage I could find something to defend myself with or at least lock the door. I heard his footsteps pounding after me as I ducked out of the side door, crossing quickly to the garage. I stopped dead in my tracks. Attached to the beam were some evil looking manacles and a chain arrangement that would soon be joined to the partially installed pulley mechanism. What fresh torture was this? I turned but Stuart caught me easily. He grabbed me by the ear and we went through the house quickly, him pulling me along as I struggled to keep up, whimpering softly and trying to break his hold on my ear. He dragged me upstairs and he opened my bedroom door and flung me on the bed.
Two things happened at once. He saw the handcuffs and the lipstick flew out of the pocket of my little skirt. He pulled my right hand up and cuffed it. Twisting my nipple cruelly he said "the left?"
"Please Sir, don't do this!"
His attention to my now rock hard nipple bud was sending messages of pleasure to all my nerve endings. My voice yelled what my body was feeling.
"PLEASE SIR PLEASE!"
No respite to these feeling that were flooding through me. I desperately wanted release. But I desperately wanted to feel his manliness and to give it pleasure and see what pleasure it could give me.
"PLEASE SIR MISTRESS KEERA CUFFS MY LEFT WRIST TO MY LITTLE DANGLERS!!
