Kevin's Joinaversary.
Kay was studying her phone at breakfast, something that I would be punished for. I wasn't crying about it; she was planning. We're planning something for the four of us.
Mum had cooked, and as always, it was delicious. However, I could feel my veins and arteries hardening as I ate it. Kay disapproved of fry-ups, but I didn't get nagged too much if I limited them to one a month. Mum's cooked breakfasts were to die for. Malcolm had left the table; he was a strange fish that would not eat meat of any sort; he had finished his cereal and was off; away to an auction; he bought stuff and sold it on eBay. He made himself a bit of money.
Kay looked at me and gave me the smile that said some part of me was going to be hurting soon. "Did you know it was a year ago yesterday that you emailed me for the first time?"
"No Mistress."
Mum looked at me, shaking her head. She had the same way of looking right through my eyes into my head to read my thoughts, just as her daughter did. Speaking to Kay but looking at me Please let me punish him, Meichala, he has much better pain tolerance than my little man. Then, to me, you should have bought flowers, you idiot."
Kay giggled. Oh, my poor man. I was wondering what to do with you this afternoon. I've got a celebration to plan. Kay got up to leave. She kissed her mom on the cheek, took my chastity key from around her neck, and dropped it into her mom's deep cleavage. Please don't let him cum mum; he isn't due for release until next month, and if he doesn't buck his ideas up, he won't be out before locktober starts.
Kay, mom, and Angie have been talking about a strict lockdown on Malcolm, Bob, and me all the way through October for weeks now. I never know what Kay has planned for me, but Bob thinks Angie is at least serious about it.
This was far and away the longest I'd ever gone without an orgasm since I first discovered the pleasure I could get by rubbing my dick when I was still in primary school. We had the delayed monthly munch meeting tomorrow, Sunday, the 30th of September. Kay didn't stop singing the first verse of The Incredible String Band's October song. However, she wasn't singing October; she was singing Locktober.
At about 1 PM, Kay's phone, which had been going bonkers with text alerts, started ringing properly. She answered, just by listening to Kay's side of the conversation; I could tell it was a friend. When I mouthed an inquiry, she taped her nose, put her hand up to shield the microphone, and hissed, "Keep your big nose out."
Seconds later, the doorbell rang. "Get that Kevin, please; I'm busy." When I got downstairs and opened our front door, a little girl stood there with her back to me. My inquiry of Hello, can I help you?" was met with the little girl turning to face me and morphing into Kevin the chastity belt maker's diminutive and very beautiful little wife.
This may get a bit confusing now, as from this point on; there are two Kevins and two Kays in this story.
It's very hard for me not to pick little Kay up and hug her when I'm surprised by her like this. I didn't resist the temptation; I did. I shouted upstairs "You will never guess who is here".
"My Kay replied, "Is it another wonderful woman named Kay by any chance?" I was beginning to smell a conspiracy. Lower me down a bit so I can kiss you, you poor boy."
"Why am I a poor boy?" I asked.
"Because you are married to a selfish, controlling, sadistic bitch," said Little Kay, laughing.
Yes, I know that, but why am I a poor boy?"
"Just trust me; I know what's happening."
"Then tell me,"
"Oh, I can't do that; your selfish, controlling, sadistic bitch of a wife would spank me."
"But you'd like that just as much as I would, I said.
"I know," little Kay replied. "But then my Kevin wouldn't unlock my belt and shag me bandy tonight, and you know what a slut I am."
"So I'm fucked then."
Well, from what I've been told, that's exactly what you're not going to be doing nor likely to be doing for a while yet. You can kiss my bumhole if you like. This belt has no guard for the tradesman's entrance! He was going to give me a tail this morning, but we were in a diner called Mollies at Farringdon Services before he realised he had forgoten."
"I'm in the shite now, little one, and you're making it worse."
"Yes, I know. I'm just another teasing little bitch, aren't I?"
Then she ran off up the stairs, holding her dress out for me to see her fun bits. She had a skeleton guard over her fanny. Kevin, won't let her have electrolysis or laser treatment, but if he finds a hair, even a tiny one, he canes her. There were currently a dozen fresh stripes across her bum.
Kevin probably owns a pair of specs with a pubic hair glued to one of the lenses just for this job. Thinking about it, it was probably his little tart who glued it in position.
Her little peach looked freshly waxed. Fuck, I thought it must hurt, but a waxed fanny somehow looks different. Well, it does to me; I wonder if I could get that idea into Kay's head. Her pubic hair had gone to the electrolysis machine in a Leeds beauty parlour years before I met her.
Kay was currently wearing Angie's chastity belt key around her neck as well as mine It was undeniable that I was on shorter rations since that happened, if I caused Angie some pain and escaped the fallout, that would make me smile. On reflection, there isn't much loyalty among submissives.
When I got to the top of the stairs, little Kay and my Kay were swapping spit in a very un-platonic manner. My Kay was holding little Kay's chastity belt, she had her hand up her skirt. Ohh, I want one for Angie. When they broke the kiss, little Kay joyfully announced, He was looking up my skirt, Mistress. I feel
violated; he must be punished. Why don't you go to the playroom and help Mum with that? I've got something to set up.
"But I."
That's all I got out.
Kay gave me a withering look. "Mum, however many strokes you were going to give this big lump, double it. No, triple it; we are playing. My idiot man didn't call me Mistress again; on second thoughts, don't. I'm going to punish him for that. I'm going to paddle his bollocks every day, right through October." Little Kay stuck her tongue out at me and laughed.
It wasn't anywhere near as bad in the playroom as I thought. I spent an hour in the cunilingus chair with mom and little Kay. A real bonus was that mum unlocked my belt and took it off; it seemed to me that it had been months since I had an erection, never mind an orgasm. I thought as soon as mum finished fastening me in and blindfolding me, she would go first. Mum loves a good licking from anywhere she can get it. I don't think she has found anyone who can hold a candle to her David when it comes to fucking her, if my Mistress ever allowed me to, id love to try for her.
She had tried out a few guys who came to the munch who were unattached, but it seemed she only ever let any of them fuck her once or twice and then never again. It appeared, to me at least, that none of them could "bang her" as David could.
Little Malcolm had ninety percent access to her pussy, and all of that was with his tongue. Though Mum happily admitted he was coming along, she said outside the poor lad's hearing, "I like to cut his air supply off, but he's so weak and easy, I'm scared of letting go for fear of killing him." So I was surprised when she invited Little Kay to mount the top chair. Just before the little one sat, mom said, Wow, that man of yours can be a real bastard. I was even more surprised when I couldn't get my tongue inside.
There was a stainless steel bar tight inside little Kay's puss. Sat on top of this bar was, from what I could tell by feeling with my tongue, a steel ball that covered her clitoris. I tried to dislodge it, but I couldn't. I couldn't get my tongue behind it; it was firmly anchored.
Following the bar down with my tongue, it passed through the four rings in her inner lips and then exited her vulva through a fourchette piercing. At the bottom of the fourchette was a clevis and barbell; it wasn't coming off at that end.
Tracing my tongue back up to the top, I couldn't figure out how the clitoral protector was fixed. Mom had not used any straps to hold my head in position. This was a little unusual, although, for the year her daughter had owned me, I had learned that when I was eating pussy, I had to concentrate on the area my mistress wanted my attention focused on. My head was nearly always firmly held to attend the exact spot my tongue and lips were required.
Mum was even worse, mum would have me and others I presume, kissing and very lightly licking, no more than tickling her outer Labia for up to an hour before I was permitted to open her petals with my tongue. I adored my time in the chair serving Mum like that.
Mum was stroking my head through this and watching closely. "This is so hot, isn't it, pussyboy?" That's what she calls any man she has trapped in this chair as she gets close to cresting. Just watching this is working for Mom, I thought.