Stacy looked up from her magazine. There she was again! That woman, in the brown, knee length raincoat, looking shifty as anything, walking back and forth in front of the kiosk! Stacy sighed, and went back to reading. She hadn't been particularly enthused about having to watch the stall, but her elderly father was in the hospital, and adamant that the Smith family business be kept alive in his absence. So, Stacy had found her petite frame sat under a large, gaudy sign that read "LockSmith's" superimposed onto a large key shape, doing nothing for seven whole days as the general hubbub of the mall passed her by.
The only interesting thing that had appeared in the week or so she'd been stuck there was that woman. For the past two days, she would keep walking back and forth, past the kiosk, throwing her the odd look and panicking whenever they made eye contact. Stacy's initial interest had quickly waned into a general sense of irritation towards her. What was she doing? She could always go up and ask, but, on the other hand... well, her seat was comfy, and her magazine was interesting, so she decided she'd let the mysterious pacer take the initiative. She'd either nut up, or go somewhere else. No need for Stacy to interfere.
As she thought this, she realised it had gotten suddenly darker. She squinted at her magazine for a second, before she heard someone clear their throat.
"Ahem... uh... this is LockSmith's, isn't it?" came a voice, one that would have been rich and husky if it wasn't tinged with a hint of anxiety and desperation.
Stacy looked up to give a snarky retort, and found that she got about as far as opening her mouth and then stopped dead. It was pacing girl. And she was fucking huge. Stacy had always just assumed that she'd been stood really far away from the stall, but up close, it became clear that, not only was the woman well over 6' tall, she was also built like a brick shithouse. She was a stark contrast to Stacy who, at just over 5' short, and with a curvy frame you could bounce pennies off, felt more than a little intimidated... well, she was pretty sure she was intimidated. Intimidated was the one that made your thighs clench together, right?
She realised she was gaping. And staring. And not replying.
"Um, yes, miss, what can we do for... you?" Stacy trailed off as she looked at the woman's face for the first time. At first glance, she looked calm, but when Stacy looked closer, she could see the beads of sweat on her forehead, the clamped jaw, the slight shaking... something was very wrong.
The woman looked around nervously and then leaned in close, so that Stacy could see that her eyes were slightly bloodshot, dark circles beneath them.
"Please, I need to go into the back!"
"Huh?"
"I have to g-get this thing-"
"Ooookay, miss...?"
"Nina, now please-"
Stacy held up her hand. No matter how gorgeous this woman was, she wasn't gonna be pushed around.
"Miss Nina, we conduct our business in the shop area just over here," she gestured behind the counter, at the neat row of chairs and the machines around them.
"If you'd care to explain what it is you need- hey! Stop that!" Stacy exclaimed as Nina let out a half growl, half moan, and sped around the counter towards the door at the back of the stall, which led to the little office her dad used. Stacy attempted to hold her back, and found herself feeling rather like a barnacle stuck to the side of a Spanish Galleon.
She was dragged through the door and into the confines of the office, where she turned, and slammed the door, attempting to re-establish a little authority.
"Now listen here, you-"
Nina never found out what Stacy was about to accuse her of being, because as the smaller girl had turned around, Nina had dropped her coat to the floor. A tight, plain black t-shirt hugged her upper body, showing off her magnificent bust, not to mention her biceps. It ended just a few inches above her crotch, giving Stacy an eyeful of abs that looked like they'd been chiselled from stone. But, well... she wasn't paying attention to that. She was paying attention to Nina's dick, because she was naked from the waist down.
The long coat had been her only option; no trousers could have contained the python between Nina's legs, and any skirt or dress would have bulged obscenely. And she couldn't tuck it away, because Nina's gorgeous, thick, pulsing cock was trapped in a chastity cage, one with what looked like a pretty heavy-duty padlock on it.
"This is what I need help with," she gasped, taking a step towards Stacy, who was still gawping at the length slung between her muscular thighs.
"This fffucking thing has been on me for weeks! I was p-playing around with it, but I lost the fucking k-key!"
Stacy nodded dumbly along as Nina explained, eyes glued to her new friend's crotch as she told her about how she'd needed to have the cage custom-made, so the manufacturer would take months to make a new key...
"Please, you have to get this off me! I c-can't think, I can't focus, I barely sleep, I need my cock out of this metal nightmare!" she moaned, collapsing into the office's sole chair, while wheels continued to spin in Stacy's head. No... she shouldn't. No way. It'd be easy to pick the lock and have her freed in minutes, but...
Stacy got to her knees, and eyed up the cage.
"Hmm... this is a toughie..." she drew her face closer, looking at the lock while she blew her breath onto Nina's sensitive sack. She heard a whimper.
"You see, because of the way it's been constructed, especially these bits..." she ran her hands along some random piece of metal, making sure to gently drag her nail across the tortured cock-flesh in the process.
