Mom Goes To A Lab Meeting On Island

Emma's Key: Mom Goes to Lab Meeting

Surprising news on the weird Dress Code required from scientists.

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### Disclaimer. This episode can easily be read without the previous two episodes in my "The Daughter Keyholder" series. In short: the Father is aroused by his 19-year-old daughter's body and gives up his erections by wearing a chastity cage. He is a Chemist, but his career is stalled because of a mistake beyond his control. Instead, his wife has a dazzling career and earns much more than he does; his daughter still has her whole life ahead of her.

Some pretty far-fetched things happen in this episode. For example, with penis erection pills, or with a weird dress code. Sometimes those sponsoring an International Lab Meeting require attendees to wear something that shows respect for the culture of the venue of the conference: so sometimes a suit and tie, or a skirt that is beyond the knee length, or other rules of various kinds are required. In this case, the Dress Code is completely fictional: there is no Scientific Conference where a solution like this is proposed (although perhaps in five or six years it may be the trend!).

Don't look up the location of the Meeting in the Nautical Atlases cartography. The name is Rokovoko, an island far away. It is not down on any map; true places never are (Melville, Moby Dick: "Queequeg was a native of Rokovoko...").

Do not continue reading if you are not willing to suspend disbelief (on many different elements).

Forgive my mistakes, English is not my native language. ###

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Chapter 1. A strange purchase.

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My wife Margaret said to me, "I would like you to purchase at the pharmacy, some pills for a lasting erection."

I blanched, thinking of the pain, of staying two hours with my erection compressed by the bars.

She sensed my discomfort and laughing said, "But silly you!

No, but go ahead, before you swallow the pill I will ask Emma to lend me your key!

But I want you to know with absolute certainty that it will not be a medicine prepared by the chemists in the laboratory I run!

That is: I do not give you a medicine without your knowledge.

You know that in my chemical laboratory, we make all kinds of tablets... For your peace of mind, I want you to go to a real pharmacist and have him sell you a package for you.

Then, maybe, we'll use it again--we'll see."

I rushed to the nearest pharmacy and was home in a flash.

As soon as I walked through the front door, I stripped again and climbed the stairs to the master bedroom.

Somehow, my wife had gotten the keys from Emma.

Or Margaret had a spare key and I didn't know it.

I was in no condition to ask questions: I was uncertain and walked on eggshells, lest my wife change her mind.

She let me find the metal handcuffs already hooked to the wrought-iron headboard of our bed.

Two leather straps held two more handcuffs at the corners of the footboard.

Nonchalantly, my wife told me to swallow the erectile pill.

Immediately after, she unlocked the lock with the key and without any legendary phrases beckoned me to...release the Kraken.

Not to brag, but after so long in enforced chastity, my penis looked like a purple tentacle worthy of a Dragon villain. Or maybe it looked like one to me because it had been so long since I had seen it erect!

Margaret did not mind my enthusiasm. She went to the bathroom to prepare, and ordered me to cuff myself: first my ankles and then a wrist.

I obeyed, for I felt in no position to deny her anything at that moment.

As I was all bent on hooking the handcuffs to my ankles, I realized that I was in a very vulnerable situation.

Even more so than usual!

The handcuffs were forcing my ankles to remain far apart.

This would have made my genitals and also my anus easily exposed to some torture: my wife had a collection of anal vibrators and riding crops, and I had my penis exposed without any protection!

But I didn't want to antagonize her, so with my right hand, I secured my left wrist to the handcuffs and then waited.

The click of high heels announced to me that my wife was ready.

To me, she appeared as beautiful as an Olympian goddess.

She was almost naked: she wore only a short, violet silk robe, open, which allowed her navel and shaved pussy to be seen.

The perfume was new and very expensive. She really liked high-class perfumes: she often returned from International Meetings with French perfumes bought duty-free. The kind that lovers give to women after they've fucked them! But I quickly banished that unclean thought: my wife was monogamous and faithful, and a dozen bottles of Eau de parfum prove nothing but the good feminine taste from a woman who earns almost twice as much as I do.

Or was I wrong?

She grabbed my free wrist and cuffed it to the wrought-iron headboard.

"You didn't see off your cock, did you?"

"No."

"Good. You are such a Good Boy. Masturbation in this house should only serve to facilitate female orgasms and nothing else." And he smiled at me.

I was mesmerized. The scent, the smile, the soft touch of her bare tits on my face.

She had pretended it was an accidental touch, but I knew she had done it on purpose.

Margaret lifted herself away from my shackles and contemplated my erect manhood.

"How long has it been since I've seen our mutual hero at attention, George? Is it just me, or is he bigger than usual, and more polished?"

"He looks more, uh, shiny to me, too."

"Let's see if I can get him even harder," she whispered.

She walked on her heels back and forth to allow me to look at her in that short sexy robe. Then with a languid gesture, she slid the silk down from her shoulders and stood with her bare back to turn me on.

Then she dropped it, and walked slowly toward me, stomping her heels against the floor.

She put her mouth close to my ear and said, "I had planned a long facesitting session, to force you to worship first the pussy and then the rosebud.

And do you see this crop? My plan was to flagellate that hard cock while you licked my pussy deeper and deeper.

Would you have liked that project of mine? Too bad, by now I have already changed my mind.

Seeing that thick, taut, and shiny cock of yours made me all wet....

I want to feel it inside my pussy.

But you must not move. You must stand still like a young man during Soaking."

"Wait, what?"

"Soaking. When a woman allows a man to penetrate her with a hard cock, but only on the condition that he stays still. I want to feel the fullness of your manhood inside my pussy, and I would like you to hold on for an infinite time -- and we both know that if you push, sooner or later you will want to cum."

I tried to speak, but the idea of being drowned inside the wetness of the pussy was driving me crazy.

Even motionless, I would have agreed. I would have done anything to taste that pussy one more time!

"Don't worry. I won't flagellate you, and I won't take advantage of your motionless penetration to discuss a very important thing concerning the International Meeting mine."

I did not understand what she was saying.

She was talking, but in the meantime, she had spread her thighs, and with one hand she was holding my cock straight to aim at the person, with the other she was widening the entrance.

In an instant, her pussy lips enveloped my cock.

But not the whole length: just the tip.

To keep herself balanced on her knees, Margaret had grasped the wrought-iron headboard with both hands. That way she could keep the knob inside the pussy, without impaling herself completely by welcoming it in.

"Aah... oh, yeah, baby... Don't cum, mind you! Just the knob, for now... OMG... Oh, my FUCKING..."

I kept hoping she would perfect the impalement, leaning her whole body weight on my cock to impale herself! The shaft skin screamed the need to be completely enveloped by the moist silk of the pussy!

Finally, she began to descend, welcoming all of my cock inside her pussy.

"Don't you dare ejaculate! I want to enjoy this penetration for as long as I can. Don't disappoint me, George! Don't leave me alone."

After sliding all the way down the shaft to the hilt, Margaret remained motionless.

With cock inside her pussy, impaled and motionless.

Then, after a time that seemed to me to last for hours, she began to ride me.

As if I were not a husband with dignity and a salary, but just a sex toy: another flesh-colored dildo, to add to the many other dildoes she had bought with the huge salary she was receiving!

After a long ride and many moans from her, Margaret ordered me to ejaculate.

I had had blue balls for many days and I know I had discharged whole gallons of semen.

How do I know that? Well...

My wife postponed the aftercare until after I had cleaned her up with my mouth, swallowing all my mess: I was bound and could not have objected!

Although, honestly, it was the thing I wanted most in the world, to lick her hot pussy once more.

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I had deluded myself that after the fuck, I would have a moment of sweet aftercare from her: all the books recommended it! But she was too swooning with euphoria.

With one hand she cupped her pussy, to keep the cum from dripping out, then she climbed onto my chest.

Finally, she placed her knees on the mattress (just beyond my shoulders) and she positioned her pussy filled with my cream in front of my face.

She said nothing.

But I knew exactly what she meant. Our pacts stipulated that I would gogo everything I ejaculated.

Perhaps by Power Dynamics, or perhaps by the climax of arousal, she orgasmed as I swallowed gallons of my sperm of mine. Made in George.

After her orgasm, she collapsed on the mattress, half unconscious. She whispered, "Wake me up if your restraints hurt," and dozed off. A Power Nap.

I was left with a hard cock, but unable to move.

By instinct, I wanted to lie on the floor, but I was restrained even to be able to humiliate myself. I remained as still as possible so as not to disturb her sleep.

A half-hour later, I heard the chime of her alarm clock.

Margaret squinted only one eye, slowly slid one hand down to my right wrist, and opened only that manacle.

Then, rubbing her soft tits against my panting chest, she whispered, "Let me sleep another twenty minutes, honey--in twenty minutes bring me fresh coffee." And then she closed her eyes again, completely ignoring my other restrainments.

With much effort, I managed to free myself.

Without disturbing her, I got up and walked, naked, in the direction of our kitchen.

I had a hard cock and a strong fear that my daughter might meet me on the stairs! Fortunately, Emma did not see me.

Very carefully, I made fresh coffee just for her. I was still too excited by the feeling of being free, and the coffee was not at all necessary.

Oh, but who do I think I am fooling? Dear readers, I only bought one cup because that had been my Owner's order!

This thought humbled me but made me elated.

I climbed the stairs prancing like Rudolf the Red-Nose reindeer. The knob at the height of my rare erection seemed purple and shining like a fog light.

My daughter was nowhere to be seen.

I ran to wake my Owner, proud of my rock-hard cock....

She accepted the coffee. After taking the first delicious sip, she winked, "Thank you, George. I deeply appreciate any little gesture from you." Her voice was serious.

With her eyes fully awake she stared at me.

Then, mockingly, she snapped, "See, it's so unusual for me to see an erect cock here at home!"

Margaret laughed and repeated those words, "Here at home, you see, George?" As if she saw hard cocks in the lab or who knows where outside the house.

I puzzled.

"Oh, George! Your face right now is priceless. Can I take some souvenir pictures of you? Come closer: let's take a picture of your hard cock next to my chin, like this.

I want lots of pictures of husband's hard cock next to wifey's face!"

Margaret posed, on her knees, her tits bare, her mouth ajar and smiling, her eyes close to the purple tip of his hard cock.

One shot, two shots. Dozens of shots.

Margaret laughed like a happy child.

Lured by the gurgle of laughter, my daughter Emma appeared through the bedroom door.

Nineteen years old, but she, too, looked like another happy child: or rather, a bossy baby-brat.

"I see you two are enjoying yourselves like young newlyweds!" giggled my daughter, as I flushed with embarrassment.

I wish I could write for you Readers, that my erection vanished at once, and that my daughter's eyes did not see my hard, shiny shaft.

But I would not be truthful.

My brain wanted to flee, my cock just wanted to stand proud like the Mast of a Galleon.

Still kneeling, my wife giggled. "Looks like your friend is very proud of himself today, George.... I've never seen it so hard!"

I feared Margaret would mention erectile pills, but instead, she chose not to reveal anything.

Margaret's tongue touched the frenulum with quick lashes.

My erection was even more tense.

I looked down. I had never seen my cock so hard and shiny, it looked like it was about to explode.

I stared into the eyes of my daughter Emma.

She sensed my gaze and looked away from the One-Eyed Snake.

"I must congratulate you, Tomorrow Dad, you are well endowed down there!"

Yeah. That day the nickname was not appropriate. My daughter and wife had stuck me with the nickname "Tomorrow" as in the proverb "Tomorrow Never Comes."

In a matter-of-fact voice, my wife commented deadpan: "I told you already, my daughter..."

"Yes, but I didn't think he had a bar like that! I always saw him locked in the cage, curled up like a shrimp! I never imagined he was equipped with an elephantine trunk!"

My wife said sarcastically, "Would you like to taste, cub?"

"No, thanks, I've already eaten. If you want, I can take pictures with your cell phone, Mom. That way you can keep your hands where you want without holding up the camera..."

"Good Idea!"

My wife stretched her arm toward my daughter. My daughter took a step forward, placing her bare foot on the floor of our master bedroom. For the first time in her life, I think.

Emma didn't think it was a special moment. Or maybe she had already seen my wife naked with other men on that bed of ours? I don't know.

My wife placed her wrists behind her back, as if she were a slave in chains, and struck a three-quarter pose, caressing my thighs with her nipples.

"Mhm! Looks like your friend has no limits today! I've never seen this knob so smooth, and with such a deep purple color!"

"Go ahead, Mom!"

"Do you want to make a video? That's a good idea." And between moans, drooling, and spitting, my wife performed a nasty and sloppy blowjob, in front of the camera held by our 19-year-old daughter.

All these things were too much to resist.

My refractory time had already passed, between the Power Nap she enjoyed, and the time to make fresh coffee.

I was in danger of ejaculating at any moment, and I didn't want to do it in front of my daughter with a camera in my hand.

"Margaret...please..."

"What, honey? Do you want me to suck harder?"

"No, please...send Emma away...I'm too embarrassed..."

My wife from below looked at me questioningly, maintaining eye contact. I understood what she was asking, albeit telepathically: if you really want me to stop, you have to use the safe word, all other moanings will be interpreted as a form of role-playing.

Margaret's eyes.

Emma's eyes.

One-eyed Snake, about to spit out a flourish of ropes and ropes of cum.

My eyes closed in despair.

"Yellow," I whispered.

And in an instant, but as so often happens, everything changed immediately.

My wife stood up and hugged me, holding me tightly.

My daughter placed the unlit phone on the dresser and took a step turning toward the door to avoid me again the indignity of being seen naked.

"Excuse me," I began to say.

"Shush, those who use the safe word never have to explain themselves.

The Session is 100% paused.

Your heart is pounding. You have a drop dripping from the edge of your eye. E...

E...

And you have a drop dripping from the One-Eyed Snake: again, from your Edge. Ha, ha!"

It was a corny joke, but enough to bring a smile to Dad's face. Perhaps this was the new definition of Dad Joke.

All the aftercare my wife had denied me (deliberately, like a Cruel Keyholder) was now being provided in triple doses by her. Margaret sent Emma into the kitchen to make me a snack of my own, and she recommended, "Emma, please wear the shapeliest sweatshirt you have. This is no time for yoga pants and camel toes."

It would be at least ten or fifteen minutes before my daughter would return, wearing a real camouflage that would make her go unnoticed even in the corridors of the prison where Hannibal Lecter was being held.

Or perhaps, a real inmate would have been aroused by seeing my daughter's bare feet and would have ejaculated within seconds. I pretended not to look at her, but the turned ankles and perfect toes turned me on more than a thousand porn movies.

My wife slid me into the comforter of the bed, kissed me softly on the neck, and cuddled me like a Great Spoon, telling me I was the most attractive husband in the world and that I had given her the most intense orgasm of her life that afternoon.

Kisses, caresses, and hugs made me feel good.

The erection caused by the medication was hidden under the comforter and no one seemed to think about it anymore. It's like the paradox of the tree: if a tree collapses in a forest where no one lives, what noise does the tree make? No, wait, it wasn't like that.

It was clear that I was ranting. Emotions were too intense.

My wife stood up to receive for me, the snack from Emma's tray. Emma who did not want to come in so as not to add to my embarrassment.

Emma was covered in such an ugly sweatshirt that I almost didn't recognize her!

It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that I could tell that that overly large, shapeless sweatshirt in that dark gray color was... mine! Little Emma could make her slender hands stick out of the huge sleeves of my sweatshirt, which covered the yoga pants because it fit my beer bod, not her toned tummy!

"You were right to get my sweatshirt, cub."

"Do you like it? It's almost up to my knees!" chirped Emma, emphasizing her own lack of embarrassment.

The length wasn't long enough to cover her knees: it came to the middle of her thigh. But she was purposely hunching over so as not to be noticed, and I could tell it was a gesture of affection toward me (usually, if women lengthen their skirts and raise their tops, it's to communicate that they reject you).

Her ankles and perfect little feet were enough to trigger an altered heartbeat in me, but I tried to hide that emotion so as not to make her uncomfortable.

"I like to see that you are happy, little cub. Aren't you embarrassed by what you saw earlier, Emma?"

"No, well, with mom, we talked a lot, we're kind of the Gilmour Girls the two of us, she didn't give me the Bees and Flowers Speech, you know she's a Scientist, like you, and maybe I'll be one someday, too, so..."

"So, nothing traumatic, just mammals with visible body organs..."

"Well: like I said, I've never seen a penis that big, Dad, I swear.

And it looks so hard, and shiny! Perhaps the shine is the most intriguing detail."

"I'm sorry if the two of us have disturbed you, Emma."

"No! Really, it's okay.

I saw in a documentary that in the Middle Ages families all slept together and mothers gave birth to one child a year, which suggests that all children sooner or later witnessed legally permissible fucking.

Now, with your permission... Milady, and White Knight... this damsel respectfully requests permission to retire to her rooms in the Rose Wing of the Manor...