u/sevenplanets

We got back to my apartment. When I stepped inside and reached to turn the lights on, Lily's hand reached out to stop me. Taking my other hand and interlacing her fingers with mine, she pressed me back against the wall, holding my hands above my head. She had on heels- if I hadn't noticed in the bar, I noticed now- and they were nothing flashy or extravagant, she didn't tower over me or anything like that, but they were just a nice black pair that went well with her stockings, and they made quiet clicking sounds on the hallway's wood floor. Once she had me against the wall and made it clear that I shouldn't move, she kissed me softly on the mouth, once. One of her stockinged thighs pressed warmly against the front of my jeans, against the cage. Combined with the kiss, it felt so good but also so frustrating that I groaned out loud, which caused her to smile in the darkness.

"Can I see it now?" she asked, abruptly breaking away from me and reaching for the lamp.

"Of...of course", I said, beginning to follow her over to my couch. The area was within the illumination of the lamp, though much of my familiar apartment was still in shadows. After two steps, however, I felt dizzy and had to reach out a hand to the wall to steady myself.

She was already perched on the couch, but looked over at me with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Chris", she asked, "are you okay?"

I tried to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths before stepping away from the wall. "I'm fine", I said. "It's just...you're really doing a number on me."

She smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

I made my way to the middle of the floor and began to fiddle with my belt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa", she laughed, holding up a hand. She was sitting back against the couch, legs crossed. "Someone's eager. Shirt first, Chris. Take it slow, remember? Just like the bases?"

I still wasn't able to stop my hands from trembling; but as I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, I felt grateful that I'd been running a little recently, doing a few push-ups here and there. I certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a male model, but I felt my chest was presentable enough. As I removed my blue dress shirt, I tossed it on the floor to the side.

"No no", she said quietly, wagging her finger. "Fold it, Chris. You don't want it to get all wrinkled."

I bent down, certain that the real reason was not tidiness in itself but that she wanted to see me obey. I realized that I enjoyed doing so.

"Attaboy", she whispered.

I stood up, still unable to stop the trembling, and removed my belt with as much deliberation as I could manage, then slowly unbuttoned my pants. She had just been touching me, had kissed me, but now there the gulf of only a few feet between us seemed unbridgeable. There was no way I would cross it without her permission, and we both knew it. I unzipped my jeans, brought them down to my ankles and stepped out of them, then folded them carefully and placed them on top of my shirt.

"Good boy", Lily whispered. "You learn so fast."

Finally I stood there in my boxers only, though I already felt naked.

Her expression was intent, playful, filled with anticipation. Her legs were crossed and one of her feet, heels still on, was moving slowly, hypnotically (to me, anyway), from side-to-side. "Boxers, too", she said.

I took a deep breath and then finally slid my boxers down to reveal the sleek-looking blue silicon cage. She couldn't help it- she exclaimed and clapped, her face an expression of pure joy. It was the kind of cage without bars or little openings, so my penis was almost entirely covered, as well as restrained. It wasn't particularly high-tech or expensive, but it did the trick and she seemed to like it. For what felt like at least a minute, at any rate, she stared at it with something like wonder. Her voice was soft, almost awed. "That's so beautiful, Chris. And you can't...you know, orgasm inside of it or anything like that?"

Her reaction was having a powerful effect on me, and it was all I could do to answer in coherent words. I shook my head no. "No. Some guys apparently can, although I don't think it feels very good for them. But I can't."

"Yay!" She clapped again. "That's so great. Whoever designed these should get a Nobel Prize or something. Do you think it was some cute girl?"

I groaned. "Sometimes I fantasize about that."

"Come here", she responded.

Obediently, trembling harder now, I took a few steps forward.

She looked up at me, smiling wickedly. "May I?"

In reality it was a rhetorical question, but she was going to make me answer.

"Of...of course", I stammered.

And then she took the cage lightly in one hand, beginning to caress it. My penis, still mostly flaccid as a result of the cage, nevertheless throbbed and struggled for freedom, pressing against its confines. I felt one of my knees go weak. I might have whimpered as I dropped to one knee as well, but it was hard to be certain. I felt drunk.

She smiled, meeting my eyes. "Are you okay? That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, Lily", I breathed deeply. "Not at all. It just...it just feels good. Very good." I blushed.

"Oh. How interesting. So you can still feel something through the cage?" She had put her face very close, inspecting, as if she might kiss it.

"Yes."

She smiled evilly. "Just not enough to cum."

I shook my head sadly.

"That's really too bad, isn't it?" Then she did kiss the tip of the cage, before letting it go, and I cried out again. In the blink of an eye I was pressing one hand into the carpet, trying to stop myself from humping the air. I hoped my neighbors weren't around.

"Come here", she said, patting the spot on the couch next to her, "come join me."

I tried not to seem too eager; but within seconds our bodies were intertwined, hers on top of mine, and I was kissing perhaps more passionately and intensely than I had ever known I could, showering her arms and her shoulders and her neck and her mouth with worshipful kisses. Her eyes were fluttering and (unless I'm flattering myself) the expression on her face suggested pure bliss.

It wasn't just that kissing had become more exciting than I'd ever known it to be- but everything about her, every little cute gesture of her hands, every word, every expression, was suddenly magnified by 100. Her femininity was so powerful that I could barely stand it.

It was a curious feeling to be so close to her with the cage on, both intensifying my frustration and at the same time (or so it seemed) ameliorating it slightly. I almost let myself get completely lost in the feeling, and convinced myself that it was nothing but pure bliss for me as well...but at the same time, I was conscious of her legs on top of mine, the warmth of her thighs against my cage, my inability even to get hard, and it was driving me crazy. It was hard to even know what I would want, if I did have the choice. Get the keys, or just stay like this? It was an impossible decision. Which was partly why I was glad it was hers, not mine.

"It's just such a shame we're limited to two bases", she whispered, as I kissed her neck.

She seemed to be realizing that reminding me of my imprisonment was a surefire way to prompt another groan of agony, which in turn prompted more giggles from her.

"Well, we're not really", I said.

"Oh, that's right", she replied, as if she'd forgotten. "Your keys. Your main one and your spare. They're here, aren't they?"

I nodded, once again trying not to seem too eager. "May I go get them...?"

She tilted her head back and appeared to give it some thought. But even as she did, there was a part of me that wished I hadn't brought it up, and was almost a little disappointed when she said, "Mmm-hmm. Fetch them for me."

The part of me that wasn't disappointed moved to bolt down the hallway to my bedroom.

"Uh, Chris?" she asked.

I froze. "Yes?"

She made a gesture with her fingers. "On your knees, boy. Fetch. I sure hope they're not high up on a some dresser or something like that."

They were, actually, up about four or five feet on my dresser, and I had to rise into a kneeling position and stretch my arm to reach them. Despite the part of me that was loving our chaste makeout session, I had more than sufficient motivation.

When I crawled back through the hallway to where she was waiting on the couch, legs crossed and swinging slowly side-to-side once more, I extended my hand holding both keys.

Her eyes lit up, but she didn't take them. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the way her stockings hugged her long legs, the point at which her skirt ended and (as far as I could tell from my POV, anyway) her legs began.

"Wait, wait", she said. There was a very cute and playful expression on her face as she appeared to improvise. The hottest thing about that, I think, was that it suggested that what she was going to tell me to do was somewhat arbitrary. That she wanted to see me obey her momentary whims.

"I want you to, um...let's see...present them to me", she said.

I got into a kneeling position in front of her, her heeled foot swinging from side to side at about the height of my chest, and I attempted to clear my throat while affecting not to stare.

"What should I...say?", I asked.

She shrugged. "Anything you like. Just something to...commemorate the occasion."

I was trembling harder than I had been at any time before, and it was genuinely difficult to get the words out. My dick straining against the cage was now a given, and a constant. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been completely soft, but nor could I get even halfway hard. I cleared my throat again and. "Um. Miss...Lily?"

"Eyes up here, Chris." She indicated her eyes. "Not on my legs. Begin again."

I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back because it seemed like the best place for them. I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Miss...Miss Lily?"

She smiled with anticipation, her foot still swinging back and forth, the heel once or twice brushing my chest. "Yes, Chris?"

"Miss." I brought my hands in front of me and used one to cup the other, which held both keys. "I hereby present to you the, um...the...keys to my pleasure."

Maintaining eye contact with me the entire time, she reached forward slowly and took them in one hand, her red nails tickling my palm. Keeping our two hands clasped, she leaned forward even more and kissed me once, just as she had near the door, softly on the mouth. Again, my whole lower body trembled like an earthquake had hit it, and for a second I thought my erection was going to burst through the cage. Red fingernails now brushed my chin, and stroked my hair. Still looking into my eyes, she said, "Thank you, sweet boy. I promise to take good care of them."

And with that she sat back, reached for her purse, dropped the keys inside, closed her purse (it sounded like something snapping shut), and tossed it in the direction of the door. She smiled widely at me and again patted the couch next to her, indicating that I should sit. "There", she said. "Now they won't distract you this whole time."

I could only imagine the look of disappointment on my face, and looking back I believe I made a sound of surprise and despair never before uttered in the annals of human history.

"But...", I began.

"So what do you want to do now? Watch a movie or something?" She smoothed her skirt with her hands, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, and then maintained a straight face for a few more seconds before bursting into giggles. "I mean, I guess I have a pretty good idea...but you know that's not going to happen, don't you, Chris? We don't need those keys to have fun." She patted the couch again, and I obediently moved to sit next to her.

Pushing me back into a reclining position again, she stretched herself on top of me. One of the straps of her dress came down from her shoulder, but she quickly pushed it back up. Her breasts pressed down on my ribs, and she rested her chin against my chest, smiling at me. At the same time, her legs brushed against mine. How had I ever been so mad as to think I would prefer to stay caged? Why couldn't we play with the keys?

She kissed my chin and smiled, propping herself up on my chest with her elbows and looking down at me. "You don't mind if I hold on to the keys, do you?"

"No, Lily. I mean...Miss Lily, if I can call you that?"

She grinned. "I like that."

"I...I like that you have them, Miss Lily", I admitted. "But..."

I didn't know how to finish my sentence. I didn't have an argument. But a part of me was convinced that she just didn't understand! I needed to cum!

Another part of me knew that she understood perfectly.

Eyes shining, she smiled and kissed me on the chin again, laughing at how tongue-tied I was. Then she kissed me on the nose, once. Again, I felt the warmth of her thigh against the maddening plastic of the cage. "But what, silly boy?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. How could I express how badly I needed her? "I just...I just want you so bad right now."

"Yeah." She moved upwards to kiss my neck, with just the slightest hint of teeth, and I pressed even harder against the inside of the cage. "Yeah", she repeated quietly, kissing me and laughing. "I kinda noticed that."

I groaned. It was all I could do.

"I guess you like me", she continued.

"Understatement of the century."

She laughed. "I can't help if it's easy. You boys. All a pretty girl has to do is smile at you, and next thing you know you're handing over your precious keys..."

She sat up now, straddling me, face flushed and happy. Her hands on my chest.

"I guess there is the other base..."

"The other...?"

I was having a hard time remembering. Our conversation in the bar seemed like a lifetime ago.

"You remember. Getting to see a girl naked! Or maybe not naked, but at least in her lingerie. I actually have this pretty nice black lacy thing on tonight. That's on top. And...I don't know if you noticed, but my stockings are connected to a garter belt. It looks pretty hot, if I do say so myself..."

I felt hope run through me, and I looked up at her pleadingly. I couldn't help whimpering. "Please?"

Still straddling me, her face radiant and her brown hair splashed over her shoulders, she reached behind her, the way a woman does when she wants to unhook her bra. She echoed my pleading. "Please? Please what, Chris?"

"Please Miss Lily...please." I had never wanted anything so badly in my life. "May I please see your...your lingerie? See what's underneath your dress?"

She paused, took her hands from behind her back, leaned forward again and stretched her legs down towards mine, kissing my chest in the process. Then she adopted the same posture as before, propping herself up on her elbows, and fixed me with her gaze. It was perhaps the cutest she'd looked all night.

With her red painted nails, she brushed her brown hair out of her face and shook her head slowly. "No...no...no." She smiled. "No Chris, I don't think so. Remember what I said about the bases? I want to make you go slowly. So slowly it drives you mad. So lingerie isn't for you. My bra and panties aren't for you. Not tonight. And maybe not for many more nights! Who knows, we might even have to leave you...what was that term? Stranded on first?"

All I could do was tilt my head back and close my eyes, groaning once more, caught between pleasure and agony. She laughed so hard and so happily that I wasn't sure she was ever going to stop.

But finally, she did. "Cheer up", she said brightly, kissing me again. "You told me first base was underrated."

We got back to my apartment. When I stepped inside and reached to turn the lights on, Lily's hand reached out to stop me. Taking my other hand and interlacing her fingers with mine, she pressed me back against the wall, holding my hands above my head. She had on heels- if I hadn't noticed in the bar, I noticed now- and they were nothing flashy or extravagant, she didn't tower over me or anything like that, but they were just a nice black pair that went well with her stockings, and they made quiet clicking sounds on the hallway's wood floor. Once she had me against the wall and made it clear that I shouldn't move, she kissed me softly on the mouth, once. One of her stockinged thighs pressed warmly against the front of my jeans, against the cage. Combined with the kiss, it felt so good but also so frustrating that I groaned out loud, which caused her to smile in the darkness.

"Can I see it now?" she asked, abruptly breaking away from me and reaching for the lamp.

"Of...of course", I said, beginning to follow her over to my couch. The area was within the illumination of the lamp, though much of my familiar apartment was still in shadows. After two steps, however, I felt dizzy and had to reach out a hand to the wall to steady myself.

She was already perched on the couch, but looked over at me with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Chris", she asked, "are you okay?"

I tried to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths before stepping away from the wall. "I'm fine", I said. "It's just...you're really doing a number on me."

She smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

I made my way to the middle of the floor and began to fiddle with my belt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa", she laughed, holding up a hand. She was sitting back against the couch, legs crossed. "Someone's eager. Shirt first, Chris. Take it slow, remember? Just like the bases?"

I still wasn't able to stop my hands from trembling; but as I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, I felt grateful that I'd been running a little recently, doing a few push-ups here and there. I certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a male model, but I felt my chest was presentable enough. As I removed my blue dress shirt, I tossed it on the floor to the side.

"No no", she said quietly, wagging her finger. "Fold it, Chris. You don't want it to get all wrinkled."

I bent down, certain that the real reason was not tidiness in itself but that she wanted to see me obey. I realized that I enjoyed doing so.

"Attaboy", she whispered.

I stood up, still unable to stop the trembling, and removed my belt with as much deliberation as I could manage, then slowly unbuttoned my pants. She had just been touching me, had kissed me, but now there the gulf of only a few feet between us seemed unbridgeable. There was no way I would cross it without her permission, and we both knew it. I unzipped my jeans, brought them down to my ankles and stepped out of them, then folded them carefully and placed them on top of my shirt.

"Good boy", Lily whispered. "You learn so fast."

Finally I stood there in my boxers only, though I already felt naked.

Her expression was intent, playful, filled with anticipation. Her legs were crossed and one of her feet, heels still on, was moving slowly, hypnotically (to me, anyway), from side-to-side. "Boxers, too", she said.

I took a deep breath and then finally slid my boxers down to reveal the sleek-looking blue silicon cage. She couldn't help it- she exclaimed and clapped, her face an expression of pure joy. It was the kind of cage without bars or little openings, so my penis was almost entirely covered, as well as restrained. It wasn't particularly high-tech or expensive, but it did the trick and she seemed to like it. For what felt like at least a minute, at any rate, she stared at it with something like wonder. Her voice was soft, almost awed. "That's so beautiful, Chris. And you can't...you know, orgasm inside of it or anything like that?"

Her reaction was having a powerful effect on me, and it was all I could do to answer in coherent words. I shook my head no. "No. Some guys apparently can, although I don't think it feels very good for them. But I can't."

"Yay!" She clapped again. "That's so great. Whoever designed these should get a Nobel Prize or something. Do you think it was some cute girl?"

I groaned. "Sometimes I fantasize about that."

"Come here", she responded.

Obediently, trembling harder now, I took a few steps forward.

She looked up at me, smiling wickedly. "May I?"

In reality it was a rhetorical question, but she was going to make me answer.

"Of...of course", I stammered.

And then she took the cage lightly in one hand, beginning to caress it. My penis, still mostly flaccid as a result of the cage, nevertheless throbbed and struggled for freedom, pressing against its confines. I felt one of my knees go weak. I might have whimpered as I dropped to one knee as well, but it was hard to be certain. I felt drunk.

She smiled, meeting my eyes. "Are you okay? That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, Lily", I breathed deeply. "Not at all. It just...it just feels good. Very good." I blushed.

"Oh. How interesting. So you can still feel something through the cage?" She had put her face very close, inspecting, as if she might kiss it.

"Yes."

She smiled evilly. "Just not enough to cum."

I shook my head sadly.

"That's really too bad, isn't it?" Then she did kiss the tip of the cage, before letting it go, and I cried out again. In the blink of an eye I was pressing one hand into the carpet, trying to stop myself from humping the air. I hoped my neighbors weren't around.

"Come here", she said, patting the spot on the couch next to her, "come join me."

I tried not to seem too eager; but within seconds our bodies were intertwined, hers on top of mine, and I was kissing perhaps more passionately and intensely than I had ever known I could, showering her arms and her shoulders and her neck and her mouth with worshipful kisses. Her eyes were fluttering and (unless I'm flattering myself) the expression on her face suggested pure bliss.

It wasn't just that kissing had become more exciting than I'd ever known it to be- but everything about her, every little cute gesture of her hands, every word, every expression, was suddenly magnified by 100. Her femininity was so powerful that I could barely stand it.

It was a curious feeling to be so close to her with the cage on, both intensifying my frustration and at the same time (or so it seemed) ameliorating it slightly. I almost let myself get completely lost in the feeling, and convinced myself that it was nothing but pure bliss for me as well...but at the same time, I was conscious of her legs on top of mine, the warmth of her thighs against my cage, my inability even to get hard, and it was driving me crazy. It was hard to even know what I would want, if I did have the choice. Get the keys, or just stay like this? It was an impossible decision. Which was partly why I was glad it was hers, not mine.

"It's just such a shame we're limited to two bases", she whispered, as I kissed her neck.

She seemed to be realizing that reminding me of my imprisonment was a surefire way to prompt another groan of agony, which in turn prompted more giggles from her.

"Well, we're not really", I said.

"Oh, that's right", she replied, as if she'd forgotten. "Your keys. Your main one and your spare. They're here, aren't they?"

I nodded, once again trying not to seem too eager. "May I go get them...?"

She tilted her head back and appeared to give it some thought. But even as she did, there was a part of me that wished I hadn't brought it up, and was almost a little disappointed when she said, "Mmm-hmm. Fetch them for me."

The part of me that wasn't disappointed moved to bolt down the hallway to my bedroom.

"Uh, Chris?" she asked.

I froze. "Yes?"

She made a gesture with her fingers. "On your knees, boy. Fetch. I sure hope they're not high up on a some dresser or something like that."

They were, actually, up about four or five feet on my dresser, and I had to rise into a kneeling position and stretch my arm to reach them. Despite the part of me that was loving our chaste makeout session, I had more than sufficient motivation.

When I crawled back through the hallway to where she was waiting on the couch, legs crossed and swinging slowly side-to-side once more, I extended my hand holding both keys.

Her eyes lit up, but she didn't take them. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the way her stockings hugged her long legs, the point at which her skirt ended and (as far as I could tell from my POV, anyway) her legs began.

"Wait, wait", she said. There was a very cute and playful expression on her face as she appeared to improvise. The hottest thing about that, I think, was that it suggested that what she was going to tell me to do was somewhat arbitrary. That she wanted to see me obey her momentary whims.

"I want you to, um...let's see...present them to me", she said.

I got into a kneeling position in front of her, her heeled foot swinging from side to side at about the height of my chest, and I attempted to clear my throat while affecting not to stare.

"What should I...say?", I asked.

She shrugged. "Anything you like. Just something to...commemorate the occasion."

I was trembling harder than I had been at any time before, and it was genuinely difficult to get the words out. My dick straining against the cage was now a given, and a constant. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been completely soft, but nor could I get even halfway hard. I cleared my throat again and. "Um. Miss...Lily?"

"Eyes up here, Chris." She indicated her eyes. "Not on my legs. Begin again."

I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back because it seemed like the best place for them. I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Miss...Miss Lily?"

She smiled with anticipation, her foot still swinging back and forth, the heel once or twice brushing my chest. "Yes, Chris?"

"Miss." I brought my hands in front of me and used one to cup the other, which held both keys. "I hereby present to you the, um...the...keys to my pleasure."

Maintaining eye contact with me the entire time, she reached forward slowly and took them in one hand, her red nails tickling my palm. Keeping our two hands clasped, she leaned forward even more and kissed me once, just as she had near the door, softly on the mouth. Again, my whole lower body trembled like an earthquake had hit it, and for a second I thought my erection was going to burst through the cage. Red fingernails now brushed my chin, and stroked my hair. Still looking into my eyes, she said, "Thank you, sweet boy. I promise to take good care of them."

And with that she sat back, reached for her purse, dropped the keys inside, closed her purse (it sounded like something snapping shut), and tossed it in the direction of the door. She smiled widely at me and again patted the couch next to her, indicating that I should sit. "There", she said. "Now they won't distract you this whole time."

I could only imagine the look of disappointment on my face, and looking back I believe I made a sound of surprise and despair never before uttered in the annals of human history.

"But...", I began.

"So what do you want to do now? Watch a movie or something?" She smoothed her skirt with her hands, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, and then maintained a straight face for a few more seconds before bursting into giggles. "I mean, I guess I have a pretty good idea...but you know that's not going to happen, don't you, Chris? We don't need those keys to have fun." She patted the couch again, and I obediently moved to sit next to her.

Pushing me back into a reclining position again, she stretched herself on top of me. One of the straps of her dress came down from her shoulder, but she quickly pushed it back up. Her breasts pressed down on my ribs, and she rested her chin against my chest, smiling at me. At the same time, her legs brushed against mine. How had I ever been so mad as to think I would prefer to stay caged? Why couldn't we play with the keys?

She kissed my chin and smiled, propping herself up on my chest with her elbows and looking down at me. "You don't mind if I hold on to the keys, do you?"

"No, Lily. I mean...Miss Lily, if I can call you that?"

She grinned. "I like that."

"I...I like that you have them, Miss Lily", I admitted. "But..."

I didn't know how to finish my sentence. I didn't have an argument. But a part of me was convinced that she just didn't understand! I needed to cum!

Another part of me knew that she understood perfectly.

Eyes shining, she smiled and kissed me on the chin again, laughing at how tongue-tied I was. Then she kissed me on the nose, once. Again, I felt the warmth of her thigh against the maddening plastic of the cage. "But what, silly boy?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. How could I express how badly I needed her? "I just...I just want you so bad right now."

"Yeah." She moved upwards to kiss my neck, with just the slightest hint of teeth, and I pressed even harder against the inside of the cage. "Yeah", she repeated quietly, kissing me and laughing. "I kinda noticed that."

I groaned. It was all I could do.

"I guess you like me", she continued.

"Understatement of the century."

She laughed. "I can't help if it's easy. You boys. All a pretty girl has to do is smile at you, and next thing you know you're handing over your precious keys..."

She sat up now, straddling me, face flushed and happy. Her hands on my chest.

"I guess there is the other base..."

"The other...?"

I was having a hard time remembering. Our conversation in the bar seemed like a lifetime ago.

"You remember. Getting to see a girl naked! Or maybe not naked, but at least in her lingerie. I actually have this pretty nice black lacy thing on tonight. That's on top. And...I don't know if you noticed, but my stockings are connected to a garter belt. It looks pretty hot, if I do say so myself..."

I felt hope run through me, and I looked up at her pleadingly. I couldn't help whimpering. "Please?"

Still straddling me, her face radiant and her brown hair splashed over her shoulders, she reached behind her, the way a woman does when she wants to unhook her bra. She echoed my pleading. "Please? Please what, Chris?"

"Please Miss Lily...please." I had never wanted anything so badly in my life. "May I please see your...your lingerie? See what's underneath your dress?"

She paused, took her hands from behind her back, leaned forward again and stretched her legs down towards mine, kissing my chest in the process. Then she adopted the same posture as before, propping herself up on her elbows, and fixed me with her gaze. It was perhaps the cutest she'd looked all night.

With her red painted nails, she brushed her brown hair out of her face and shook her head slowly. "No...no...no." She smiled. "No Chris, I don't think so. Remember what I said about the bases? I want to make you go slowly. So slowly it drives you mad. So lingerie isn't for you. My bra and panties aren't for you. Not tonight. And maybe not for many more nights! Who knows, we might even have to leave you...what was that term? Stranded on first?"

All I could do was tilt my head back and close my eyes, groaning once more, caught between pleasure and agony. She laughed so hard and so happily that I wasn't sure she was ever going to stop.

But finally, she did. "Cheer up", she said brightly, kissing me again. "You told me first base was underrated."

We got back to my apartment. When I stepped inside and reached to turn the lights on, Lily's hand reached out to stop me. Taking my other hand and interlacing her fingers with mine, she pressed me back against the wall, holding my hands above my head. She had on heels- if I hadn't noticed in the bar, I noticed now- and they were nothing flashy or extravagant, she didn't tower over me or anything like that, but they were just a nice black pair that went well with her stockings, and they made quiet clicking sounds on the hallway's wood floor. Once she had me against the wall and made it clear that I shouldn't move, she kissed me softly on the mouth, once. One of her stockinged thighs pressed warmly against the front of my jeans, against the cage. Combined with the kiss, it felt so good but also so frustrating that I groaned out loud, which caused her to smile in the darkness.

"Can I see it now?" she asked, abruptly breaking away from me and reaching for the lamp.

"Of...of course", I said, beginning to follow her over to my couch. The area was within the illumination of the lamp, though much of my familiar apartment was still in shadows. After two steps, however, I felt dizzy and had to reach out a hand to the wall to steady myself.

She was already perched on the couch, but looked over at me with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Chris", she asked, "are you okay?"

I tried to compose myself, taking a few deep breaths before stepping away from the wall. "I'm fine", I said. "It's just...you're really doing a number on me."

She smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

I made my way to the middle of the floor and began to fiddle with my belt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa", she laughed, holding up a hand. She was sitting back against the couch, legs crossed. "Someone's eager. Shirt first, Chris. Take it slow, remember? Just like the bases?"

I still wasn't able to stop my hands from trembling; but as I slowly began to unbutton my shirt, I felt grateful that I'd been running a little recently, doing a few push-ups here and there. I certainly wouldn't be mistaken for a male model, but I felt my chest was presentable enough. As I removed my blue dress shirt, I tossed it on the floor to the side.

"No no", she said quietly, wagging her finger. "Fold it, Chris. You don't want it to get all wrinkled."

I bent down, certain that the real reason was not tidiness in itself but that she wanted to see me obey. I realized that I enjoyed doing so.

"Attaboy", she whispered.

I stood up, still unable to stop the trembling, and removed my belt with as much deliberation as I could manage, then slowly unbuttoned my pants. She had just been touching me, had kissed me, but now there the gulf of only a few feet between us seemed unbridgeable. There was no way I would cross it without her permission, and we both knew it. I unzipped my jeans, brought them down to my ankles and stepped out of them, then folded them carefully and placed them on top of my shirt.

"Good boy", Lily whispered. "You learn so fast."

Finally I stood there in my boxers only, though I already felt naked.

Her expression was intent, playful, filled with anticipation. Her legs were crossed and one of her feet, heels still on, was moving slowly, hypnotically (to me, anyway), from side-to-side. "Boxers, too", she said.

I took a deep breath and then finally slid my boxers down to reveal the sleek-looking blue silicon cage. She couldn't help it- she exclaimed and clapped, her face an expression of pure joy. It was the kind of cage without bars or little openings, so my penis was almost entirely covered, as well as restrained. It wasn't particularly high-tech or expensive, but it did the trick and she seemed to like it. For what felt like at least a minute, at any rate, she stared at it with something like wonder. Her voice was soft, almost awed. "That's so beautiful, Chris. And you can't...you know, orgasm inside of it or anything like that?"

Her reaction was having a powerful effect on me, and it was all I could do to answer in coherent words. I shook my head no. "No. Some guys apparently can, although I don't think it feels very good for them. But I can't."

"Yay!" She clapped again. "That's so great. Whoever designed these should get a Nobel Prize or something. Do you think it was some cute girl?"

I groaned. "Sometimes I fantasize about that."

"Come here", she responded.

Obediently, trembling harder now, I took a few steps forward.

She looked up at me, smiling wickedly. "May I?"

In reality it was a rhetorical question, but she was going to make me answer.

"Of...of course", I stammered.

And then she took the cage lightly in one hand, beginning to caress it. My penis, still mostly flaccid as a result of the cage, nevertheless throbbed and struggled for freedom, pressing against its confines. I felt one of my knees go weak. I might have whimpered as I dropped to one knee as well, but it was hard to be certain. I felt drunk.

She smiled, meeting my eyes. "Are you okay? That doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No, Lily", I breathed deeply. "Not at all. It just...it just feels good. Very good." I blushed.

"Oh. How interesting. So you can still feel something through the cage?" She had put her face very close, inspecting, as if she might kiss it.

"Yes."

She smiled evilly. "Just not enough to cum."

I shook my head sadly.

"That's really too bad, isn't it?" Then she did kiss the tip of the cage, before letting it go, and I cried out again. In the blink of an eye I was pressing one hand into the carpet, trying to stop myself from humping the air. I hoped my neighbors weren't around.

"Come here", she said, patting the spot on the couch next to her, "come join me."

I tried not to seem too eager; but within seconds our bodies were intertwined, hers on top of mine, and I was kissing perhaps more passionately and intensely than I had ever known I could, showering her arms and her shoulders and her neck and her mouth with worshipful kisses. Her eyes were fluttering and (unless I'm flattering myself) the expression on her face suggested pure bliss.

It wasn't just that kissing had become more exciting than I'd ever known it to be- but everything about her, every little cute gesture of her hands, every word, every expression, was suddenly magnified by 100. Her femininity was so powerful that I could barely stand it.

It was a curious feeling to be so close to her with the cage on, both intensifying my frustration and at the same time (or so it seemed) ameliorating it slightly. I almost let myself get completely lost in the feeling, and convinced myself that it was nothing but pure bliss for me as well...but at the same time, I was conscious of her legs on top of mine, the warmth of her thighs against my cage, my inability even to get hard, and it was driving me crazy. It was hard to even know what I would want, if I did have the choice. Get the keys, or just stay like this? It was an impossible decision. Which was partly why I was glad it was hers, not mine.

"It's just such a shame we're limited to two bases", she whispered, as I kissed her neck.

She seemed to be realizing that reminding me of my imprisonment was a surefire way to prompt another groan of agony, which in turn prompted more giggles from her.

"Well, we're not really", I said.

"Oh, that's right", she replied, as if she'd forgotten. "Your keys. Your main one and your spare. They're here, aren't they?"

I nodded, once again trying not to seem too eager. "May I go get them...?"

She tilted her head back and appeared to give it some thought. But even as she did, there was a part of me that wished I hadn't brought it up, and was almost a little disappointed when she said, "Mmm-hmm. Fetch them for me."

The part of me that wasn't disappointed moved to bolt down the hallway to my bedroom.

"Uh, Chris?" she asked.

I froze. "Yes?"

She made a gesture with her fingers. "On your knees, boy. Fetch. I sure hope they're not high up on a some dresser or something like that."

They were, actually, up about four or five feet on my dresser, and I had to rise into a kneeling position and stretch my arm to reach them. Despite the part of me that was loving our chaste makeout session, I had more than sufficient motivation.

When I crawled back through the hallway to where she was waiting on the couch, legs crossed and swinging slowly side-to-side once more, I extended my hand holding both keys.

Her eyes lit up, but she didn't take them. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at the way her stockings hugged her long legs, the point at which her skirt ended and (as far as I could tell from my POV, anyway) her legs began.

"Wait, wait", she said. There was a very cute and playful expression on her face as she appeared to improvise. The hottest thing about that, I think, was that it suggested that what she was going to tell me to do was somewhat arbitrary. That she wanted to see me obey her momentary whims.

"I want you to, um...let's see...present them to me", she said.

I got into a kneeling position in front of her, her heeled foot swinging from side to side at about the height of my chest, and I attempted to clear my throat while affecting not to stare.

"What should I...say?", I asked.

She shrugged. "Anything you like. Just something to...commemorate the occasion."

I was trembling harder than I had been at any time before, and it was genuinely difficult to get the words out. My dick straining against the cage was now a given, and a constant. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been completely soft, but nor could I get even halfway hard. I cleared my throat again and. "Um. Miss...Lily?"

"Eyes up here, Chris." She indicated her eyes. "Not on my legs. Begin again."

I nodded, clasping my hands behind my back because it seemed like the best place for them. I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Miss...Miss Lily?"

She smiled with anticipation, her foot still swinging back and forth, the heel once or twice brushing my chest. "Yes, Chris?"

"Miss." I brought my hands in front of me and used one to cup the other, which held both keys. "I hereby present to you the, um...the...keys to my pleasure."

Maintaining eye contact with me the entire time, she reached forward slowly and took them in one hand, her red nails tickling my palm. Keeping our two hands clasped, she leaned forward even more and kissed me once, just as she had near the door, softly on the mouth. Again, my whole lower body trembled like an earthquake had hit it, and for a second I thought my erection was going to burst through the cage. Red fingernails now brushed my chin, and stroked my hair. Still looking into my eyes, she said, "Thank you, sweet boy. I promise to take good care of them."

And with that she sat back, reached for her purse, dropped the keys inside, closed her purse (it sounded like something snapping shut), and tossed it in the direction of the door. She smiled widely at me and again patted the couch next to her, indicating that I should sit. "There", she said. "Now they won't distract you this whole time."

I could only imagine the look of disappointment on my face, and looking back I believe I made a sound of surprise and despair never before uttered in the annals of human history.

"But...", I began.

"So what do you want to do now? Watch a movie or something?" She smoothed her skirt with her hands, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, and then maintained a straight face for a few more seconds before bursting into giggles. "I mean, I guess I have a pretty good idea...but you know that's not going to happen, don't you, Chris? We don't need those keys to have fun." She patted the couch again, and I obediently moved to sit next to her.

Pushing me back into a reclining position again, she stretched herself on top of me. One of the straps of her dress came down from her shoulder, but she quickly pushed it back up. Her breasts pressed down on my ribs, and she rested her chin against my chest, smiling at me. At the same time, her legs brushed against mine. How had I ever been so mad as to think I would prefer to stay caged? Why couldn't we play with the keys?

She kissed my chin and smiled, propping herself up on my chest with her elbows and looking down at me. "You don't mind if I hold on to the keys, do you?"

"No, Lily. I mean...Miss Lily, if I can call you that?"

She grinned. "I like that."

"I...I like that you have them, Miss Lily", I admitted. "But..."

I didn't know how to finish my sentence. I didn't have an argument. But a part of me was convinced that she just didn't understand! I needed to cum!

Another part of me knew that she understood perfectly.

Eyes shining, she smiled and kissed me on the chin again, laughing at how tongue-tied I was. Then she kissed me on the nose, once. Again, I felt the warmth of her thigh against the maddening plastic of the cage. "But what, silly boy?"

I wasn't sure how to answer that. How could I express how badly I needed her? "I just...I just want you so bad right now."

"Yeah." She moved upwards to kiss my neck, with just the slightest hint of teeth, and I pressed even harder against the inside of the cage. "Yeah", she repeated quietly, kissing me and laughing. "I kinda noticed that."

I groaned. It was all I could do.

"I guess you like me", she continued.

"Understatement of the century."

She laughed. "I can't help if it's easy. You boys. All a pretty girl has to do is smile at you, and next thing you know you're handing over your precious keys..."

She sat up now, straddling me, face flushed and happy. Her hands on my chest.

"I guess there is the other base..."

"The other...?"

I was having a hard time remembering. Our conversation in the bar seemed like a lifetime ago.

"You remember. Getting to see a girl naked! Or maybe not naked, but at least in her lingerie. I actually have this pretty nice black lacy thing on tonight. That's on top. And...I don't know if you noticed, but my stockings are connected to a garter belt. It looks pretty hot, if I do say so myself..."

I felt hope run through me, and I looked up at her pleadingly. I couldn't help whimpering. "Please?"

Still straddling me, her face radiant and her brown hair splashed over her shoulders, she reached behind her, the way a woman does when she wants to unhook her bra. She echoed my pleading. "Please? Please what, Chris?"

"Please Miss Lily...please." I had never wanted anything so badly in my life. "May I please see your...your lingerie? See what's underneath your dress?"

She paused, took her hands from behind her back, leaned forward again and stretched her legs down towards mine, kissing my chest in the process. Then she adopted the same posture as before, propping herself up on her elbows, and fixed me with her gaze. It was perhaps the cutest she'd looked all night.

With her red painted nails, she brushed her brown hair out of her face and shook her head slowly. "No...no...no." She smiled. "No Chris, I don't think so. Remember what I said about the bases? I want to make you go slowly. So slowly it drives you mad. So lingerie isn't for you. My bra and panties aren't for you. Not tonight. And maybe not for many more nights! Who knows, we might even have to leave you...what was that term? Stranded on first?"

All I could do was tilt my head back and close my eyes, groaning once more, caught between pleasure and agony. She laughed so hard and so happily that I wasn't sure she was ever going to stop.

But finally, she did. "Cheer up", she said brightly, kissing me again. "You told me first base was underrated."

"You're wearing one, aren't you?"

I felt something close to panic rush through me, and turned in my seat to find a woman sitting at the stool next to mine. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and was wearing a sleeveless red dress that ran to just above her knees. In the somewhat shadowy lighting of the pub, I caught a glimpse of black stockinged legs. Her nails were painted a deep red that matched her dress. I met her eyes with an expression that must have betrayed all of my panic; because as I did, she put her hand to her mouth and laughed, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ha-ha! I don't know what I'm saying. I mean, I don't even know you!"

There were a lot of people sitting at the tables spread throughout the cavernous beer garden, but only a few of us up here at the bar. The bartender, a nice-looking blonde-haired girl of about 30, was all the way at the other end, and no one seemed to have noticed my interaction with this mysterious stranger. But once I recovered from my surprise, I relaxed a little. "That's okay", I told her. "Have you had a few?" It was hard to tell.

The woman was still giggling at (I think) her own brazenness, and shook her head while she raised a mostly full glass of draught beer. "Not at all. I just...noticed you over at that table, and, well..."

I followed the general direction of her gesture. It was starting to make a little sense now. She'd indicated a table in the back where about twenty people were sitting around. I'd never been to a BDSM meet-up before. I'd sat down, made some small talk, felt a little awkward, and then wandered away. I'd realized that I didn't quite feel up to socializing; and besides, the Mets were playing. Up on the TV, their leadoff hitter was getting himself set in the batter's box.

"Ah", I said, nodding. Still, how did she...? I glanced down at my black jeans to reassure myself that no one could possibly tell. But I was still confused. "I didn't see you there, though," I said, still avoiding the question with which she'd started our interaction. "I think I would have noticed."

She smiled at that. "I was hiding at that other table", she said, pointing. "Waiting and watching like a creeper. Lost my nerve. But it didn't seem like you really knew anyone in the group. You were brave to go over there!"

"Oh, it was nothing really."

"But then I saw you walk over here."

I nodded, taking a sip of my Blue Moon- mostly just to give myself a second to muster the genuine courage that I suddenly felt I needed. "I guess I was just feeling a little out-of-place", I shrugged. "You're right- just about everyone over there seemed to know each other." I met her eyes- large and brown with a hint of green (or so the atmosphere of the shadows in the bar made it seem)- and forged ahead with what I needed to ask. "Ah- you can't really tell, can you...?"

"Tell?" She looked at me blankly.

"Well, you know- you asked me if I was wearing one? You can't, like...see it, right? Through my...jeans?"

Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled with what seemed like a mixture of amusement and awe, cupping her hands over her mouth again as she laughed. She just shook her head for a few seconds. She looked like she'd found a very cute but very exotic animal out in the wild. "Oh my god. You really are?"

My leg started to tremble a little, though I couldn't really say why. I felt myself blush, and took another sip of Blue Moon to try to mask it. "I guess there's no point in trying to deny it now", I chuckled.

She laughed again, at first loudly enough that a few people down the bar glanced our way, but then she got herself under control. "Nope. No point", she said, meeting my eyes. "I really don't know what came over me. And no, don't worry, I can't see..."- she glanced downwards briefly, towards my legs- "...your, uh, little secret." Now she was looking somewhere past my glass of beer. Her voice sounded far away. "I just...I don't know, I saw you walking away from that table, I knew the meet-up was for BDSM, and I guess I put two-and-two together. Something told me...that guy's locked." This last word was delivered with more emphasis but also more quietly than the rest- she seemed to have moved past amusement, to some other emotion that I couldn't quite read. More like fascination.

"Well", I said, not making eye contact and staring at her beer perhaps in much the same way she was staring at mine, "it was a good guess. What brought you to the meet-up?"

"Hmm." She seemed to smile to herself. "That's for me to know."

"And for me to find out?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe."

"You're very mysterious. Can I at least know your name?"

She extended a hand. "Lily."

"Chris, nice to meet you."

After we shook hands, she put her feet on the floor and slid her stool a little closer to mine. Then she sat back down. "Don't worry", she said, "I'm not trying to hit on you. I just...well, I know I can't see it."

I looked around. The bar wasn't crowded, but there were still people around. "Yeah, I don't quite feel like getting arrested tonight."

"You would be getting handcuffed", she pointed out.

"That's true. But not in the context I'd prefer."

She laughed, and touched my shoulder briefly. "I know I can't see it, but could I maybe...feel it? Just for a sec?" She put her hand to her face again to stifle a peal of laughter. "God, I'm such a perv."

I looked around again. No one seemed to be paying attention to us, but I suddenly felt very conspicuous. Partly perhaps because ever since Lily had moved her stool closer to mine, I'd been pressing against the cage harder than I had been all night. I took a deep breath and, in hopes of collecting myself, I glanced up at something completely non-sexual- the baseball game- except that they were between innings, and a commercial was showing a joyful nuclear family piling into a new car. Luckily, that was sufficiently deflating, for the moment. I glanced back at Lily without quite making eye contact. I thought that if I did, I might lose it again. "Sure", I said.

A few seconds later, while I stared at my half-drunk Blue Moon, I felt a red-nailed finger tap me on the front of my jeans- once, twice- and it produced a sound that (I hoped) only she and I could hear. But the hardness of the plastic was enough to convince her, and she leaned forward over the bar, stifling a sudden fit of giggles. Meanwhile, I did my best to compose myself and not give in to the sudden insane arousal I was experiencing, which- if I had abandoned my senses- could have led to my trying to hump the bar. Finally, she met my eyes with the same mixture of amusement and wonderment that I'd noticed before. "Oh my God", she said, smiling. "I love that. That's so great. That's amazing."

Just then, the bartender wandered past, noticed our drinks were still mostly filled, and didn't intrude.

I laughed a little at her reaction, and allowed myself to move my own stool a little closer. "You act like you've just seen some rare animal."

"Well, I've never actually seen one of you boys out in the wild before. I mean...locked up and all."

"I'm glad you like it", I said. "I think."

"So..." She seemed to have gotten control of herself, and now she was quiet again, fixing me with an expression that was still amused, but also somewhat serious. "So where's the key?"

"At my apartment. Not too far away. Keys, that is."

"Oh. More than one?"

"Well yeah, I have a spare. For emergencies, that sort of thing."

She nodded. "That makes sense. It's a valuable thing you're keeping locked up." This last line was delivered with a smile, and I felt myself press helplessly against the cage again. Helpless in two senses, that is; in one sense that I wasn't getting out of there anytime soon without one of the keys, but in the other that I'd had no chance, in that moment, of not trying to get hard. Her words had been like a direct message straight to my penis. My four limbs felt loose, relaxed, and I was a little dizzy- none of which, I don't think, had anything to do with the beer.

"I suppose."

"So you just...if you don't mind my asking, do you have someone who, like, holds on to the keys, or...?"

"Ah, no, no...not at the moment", I said, keeping my voice low. "Sometimes I just put the cage on for a little while to, you know..."- I felt myself blushing again- "...to tease myself."

"How long is a little while?"

"Oh, not too long usually. I'd say the longest I've ever gone- with the cage, anyway- has been about a week."

Her eyes widened and the awe came back to her face. But at the same time, the information seemed to give her pleasure. "A week? I can't even go for...ahem." She fixed me with a mock-stern expression. "That's privileged information."

I laughed. "Wait, so you get to know how long I go, but I don't get to know how long you...?"

She stuck out her tongue. "That's right, mister. That's not the kind of thing a lady talks about."

"What a raw deal." I shook my head, still smiling, and tried not to stare at the movement of her black stockings as she crossed her legs. I'd gotten a glimpse, however, and suddenly I was once again trying very hard to break out of my tiny prison. Could she tell? I had the feeling that she could, and that she liked it (both that I was trying to escape and that I couldn't, that is), but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

We settled into what felt to me like a comfortable silence. After a few moments, I realized that she was looking up at the TV. The game was back. "So this is baseball", she said, sounding like someone who'd just arrived on Mars and discovered the detritus of an incomprehensible game.

I confirmed her statement. "This is baseball."

"Who's playing?"

"Well, it's the Mets against the Braves." My own voice sounded strange to me. There was an emotional and almost physical toll to bringing myself out of the reverie that I'd suddenly found myself in, to focusing on the real world again. "The Mets have had a pretty good season, but they have to win either tonight or tomorrow. Otherwise they miss the playoffs, and the Braves get in. I like the Mets."

She nodded. "So they're one game away from the playoffs?"

"Mm-hmm."

She moved a little closer to me, touching my shoulder again. It felt like my arm was fighting off a powerful electric current, and suddenly I could barely sit still.

"But if they don't win one of these last two games", she began, a little quieter than before, "It would be like...well, it would be like they'd gotten so close to what they wanted, and then at the last moment it was taken away from them? By the...Bears?"

"The Braves, Lily. The Bears play football. But yes, I think that would be a fair description of their...predicament."

"That sounds like it would be really frustrating", she suggested. "Not just for them, but for you."

"I think it would be. I hope it doesn't happen."

She repurposed her hand towards the task of picking up her drink, and smiled as she shrugged; as if it were a matter of total indifference to her. Which I suppose it was. "I guess we'll see."

On TV, the Mets' shortstop hit a single, and cruised into first base. "Do you remember bases?" she asked, again looking up at the TV.

"Bases...uh, what do you mean?"

"You know, when you were a teenager. Did you and your guy friends talk about bases? Like, sexual bases?"

"Ohhhhh, right. Yeah. I vaguely remember that whole concept."

"First base was..."

"I think first base was...kissing."

"Mmm." She smiled at the thought, and I casually (I hoped) pressed down hard on the edge of the bar, using all my strength. All this pent-up energy had to go somewhere. I'd managed briefly to relax inside the cage for a few moments, but I hadn't had enough time to recover. Talking about this was getting increasingly frustrating. A million thoughts were racing through my head.

"Second base was..."

I shifted in my seat, exhaled, and picked up my glass, noticing that my hand was trembling. I put the glass back down without drinking from it, not wanting to take the chance of spilling it. "Second base was...well, from a male perspective..."

She made a gesture. "Naturally."

"Second base was...well...touching a girl's breasts."

Her eyes sparkled and she touched my hand with hers. "How thrilling!" The cage suddenly felt very small.

"Indeed." I did my best to sound casual, though I wasn't sure it was working in the slightest. I'd have had to be a master thespian, which I wasn't. "Third was...again, from a male perspective, a...blowjob. I don't remember much talk of going down on a girl in the world of adolescent boys, but I guess that might have counted. I'm not sure. And home base..."

She interrupted me, fixing me with a genuinely curious look. "Do you think it should have counted?"

"What? Oh, you mean..."

She watched me, smiling.

"Well, uh...yeah, I do, actually. I mean, it's not exactly the same thing, but I think...I think there's a different kind of pleasure to be found in..." I paused a long time. "Serving."

She merely continued to watch me, the smile on her face growing. "What a sweet boy", she said, as if to herself.

I was worried I was about to break the cage from inside. I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself, but I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and my voice came out more high-pitched than usual. I coughed, cleared my throat again. "And then home base is...well...home is home."

"Self-explanatory", she agreed. "So, just going by the male perspective on sexual bases, excluding for a moment your enlightened twenty-first century views on serving, you couldn't even reach third base or home right now, could you?"

A million conflicting emotions ran through me again in the course of a few seconds. "Well, I...I'm physically capable. I would just need...my keys."

"Back at your apartment", she said, meeting my eyes.

"Yes", I answered, trying to breathe. "Back at my apartment."

"Well", she said, smiling, "I was just speaking hypothetically, anyway. Don't worry. I don't want to test your resolve." She couldn't quite get through that with a straight face, however, and she must have seen the look of disappointment that suddenly came across mine, because she started to laugh again. She reached over and brushed my hair back from my head.

Grinning and leaning closer to me, she asked, "What about seeing a girl naked? Or maybe in some cute lingerie or something?"

"That I'm capable of even without the keys", I promised, unable to keep a note of hopefulness out of my voice.

She giggled harder. "No silly, what base is it?"

I considered. "I...don't think it was a base. But now that you mention it, maybe it should've been."

On TV, the Mets got another hit, and the player on first went into an all-out sprint, rounding second and within a few seconds diving into the dirt for third.

She shook her head. "Now see, look how fast these guys are rounding the bases. Don't you think they should be going a little more slowly?"

I shook my head, but in a way that indicated agreement. I was ready to agree with just about anything she said, actually. "They're not really savoring each base", I observed. "There's no way he enjoyed second, with how quickly he ran through it."

"That's what I mean", she said. "I think guys should go slow around bases, don't you? I mean, really slowly."

"Well sometimes they don't even finish", I pointed out.

She gasped in mock horror, putting her hand to her face. "What a terrible fate!"

"I mean, this guy"- I gestured to the player who'd just hit a single to make it first and third with two outs- "could get stranded on first, if the inning ends."

She shook her head back and forth. "That would be so sad." Unable to help herself, she smiled. "Stranded on first." She repeated the phrase once more, as if she actually quite liked the idea. She reached over and brushed my hair again, and I allowed myself a quick kiss on her wrist. "Stranded on first", she said one more time. "Something about that is kind of hot, you know? Not that I'd want to keep a guy there forever." She paused, considering. "But the thought of keeping him there for a while, without knowing when he's going to be rescued...mmmm. I like taking it slow."

I had started to notice within myself a strange desire to agree with her opinions on this issue. "First base is underrated."

Her hand touched my thigh, tapped the cage again, and suddenly I had to hold on to the bar to steady myself. My toes contracted, my cage shrunk, and I had to take a few deep breaths so the other people around us wouldn't think I needed medical attention.

"I'm glad you think so", Lily said. "How far away did you say your apartment was, again?"

"You're wearing one, aren't you?"

I felt something close to panic rush through me, and turned in my seat to find a woman sitting at the stool next to mine. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and was wearing a sleeveless red dress that ran to just above her knees. In the somewhat shadowy lighting of the pub, I caught a glimpse of black stockinged legs. Her nails were painted a deep red that matched her dress. I met her eyes with an expression that must have betrayed all of my panic; because as I did, she put her hand to her mouth and laughed, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ha-ha! I don't know what I'm saying. I mean, I don't even know you!"

There were a lot of people sitting at the tables spread throughout the cavernous beer garden, but only a few of us up here at the bar. The bartender, a nice-looking blonde-haired girl of about 30, was all the way at the other end, and no one seemed to have noticed my interaction with this mysterious stranger. But once I recovered from my surprise, I relaxed a little. "That's okay", I told her. "Have you had a few?" It was hard to tell.

The woman was still giggling at (I think) her own brazenness, and shook her head while she raised a mostly full glass of draught beer. "Not at all. I just...noticed you over at that table, and, well..."

I followed the general direction of her gesture. It was starting to make a little sense now. She'd indicated a table in the back where about twenty people were sitting around. I'd never been to a BDSM meet-up before. I'd sat down, made some small talk, felt a little awkward, and then wandered away. I'd realized that I didn't quite feel up to socializing; and besides, the Mets were playing. Up on the TV, their leadoff hitter was getting himself set in the batter's box.

"Ah", I said, nodding. Still, how did she...? I glanced down at my black jeans to reassure myself that no one could possibly tell. But I was still confused. "I didn't see you there, though," I said, still avoiding the question with which she'd started our interaction. "I think I would have noticed."

She smiled at that. "I was hiding at that other table", she said, pointing. "Waiting and watching like a creeper. Lost my nerve. But it didn't seem like you really knew anyone in the group. You were brave to go over there!"

"Oh, it was nothing really."

"But then I saw you walk over here."

I nodded, taking a sip of my Blue Moon- mostly just to give myself a second to muster the genuine courage that I suddenly felt I needed. "I guess I was just feeling a little out-of-place", I shrugged. "You're right- just about everyone over there seemed to know each other." I met her eyes- large and brown with a hint of green (or so the atmosphere of the shadows in the bar made it seem)- and forged ahead with what I needed to ask. "Ah- you can't really tell, can you...?"

"Tell?" She looked at me blankly.

"Well, you know- you asked me if I was wearing one? You can't, like...see it, right? Through my...jeans?"

Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled with what seemed like a mixture of amusement and awe, cupping her hands over her mouth again as she laughed. She just shook her head for a few seconds. She looked like she'd found a very cute but very exotic animal out in the wild. "Oh my god. You really are?"

My leg started to tremble a little, though I couldn't really say why. I felt myself blush, and took another sip of Blue Moon to try to mask it. "I guess there's no point in trying to deny it now", I chuckled.

She laughed again, at first loudly enough that a few people down the bar glanced our way, but then she got herself under control. "Nope. No point", she said, meeting my eyes. "I really don't know what came over me. And no, don't worry, I can't see..."- she glanced downwards briefly, towards my legs- "...your, uh, little secret." Now she was looking somewhere past my glass of beer. Her voice sounded far away. "I just...I don't know, I saw you walking away from that table, I knew the meet-up was for BDSM, and I guess I put two-and-two together. Something told me...that guy's locked." This last word was delivered with more emphasis but also more quietly than the rest- she seemed to have moved past amusement, to some other emotion that I couldn't quite read. More like fascination.

"Well", I said, not making eye contact and staring at her beer perhaps in much the same way she was staring at mine, "it was a good guess. What brought you to the meet-up?"

"Hmm." She seemed to smile to herself. "That's for me to know."

"And for me to find out?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe."

"You're very mysterious. Can I at least know your name?"

She extended a hand. "Lily."

"Chris, nice to meet you."

After we shook hands, she put her feet on the floor and slid her stool a little closer to mine. Then she sat back down. "Don't worry", she said, "I'm not trying to hit on you. I just...well, I know I can't see it."

I looked around. The bar wasn't crowded, but there were still people around. "Yeah, I don't quite feel like getting arrested tonight."

"You would be getting handcuffed", she pointed out.

"That's true. But not in the context I'd prefer."

She laughed, and touched my shoulder briefly. "I know I can't see it, but could I maybe...feel it? Just for a sec?" She put her hand to her face again to stifle a peal of laughter. "God, I'm such a perv."

I looked around again. No one seemed to be paying attention to us, but I suddenly felt very conspicuous. Partly perhaps because ever since Lily had moved her stool closer to mine, I'd been pressing against the cage harder than I had been all night. I took a deep breath and, in hopes of collecting myself, I glanced up at something completely non-sexual- the baseball game- except that they were between innings, and a commercial was showing a joyful nuclear family piling into a new car. Luckily, that was sufficiently deflating, for the moment. I glanced back at Lily without quite making eye contact. I thought that if I did, I might lose it again. "Sure", I said.

A few seconds later, while I stared at my half-drunk Blue Moon, I felt a red-nailed finger tap me on the front of my jeans- once, twice- and it produced a sound that (I hoped) only she and I could hear. But the hardness of the plastic was enough to convince her, and she leaned forward over the bar, stifling a sudden fit of giggles. Meanwhile, I did my best to compose myself and not give in to the sudden insane arousal I was experiencing, which- if I had abandoned my senses- could have led to my trying to hump the bar. Finally, she met my eyes with the same mixture of amusement and wonderment that I'd noticed before. "Oh my God", she said, smiling. "I love that. That's so great. That's amazing."

Just then, the bartender wandered past, noticed our drinks were still mostly filled, and didn't intrude.

I laughed a little at her reaction, and allowed myself to move my own stool a little closer. "You act like you've just seen some rare animal."

"Well, I've never actually seen one of you boys out in the wild before. I mean...locked up and all."

"I'm glad you like it", I said. "I think."

"So..." She seemed to have gotten control of herself, and now she was quiet again, fixing me with an expression that was still amused, but also somewhat serious. "So where's the key?"

"At my apartment. Not too far away. Keys, that is."

"Oh. More than one?"

"Well yeah, I have a spare. For emergencies, that sort of thing."

She nodded. "That makes sense. It's a valuable thing you're keeping locked up." This last line was delivered with a smile, and I felt myself press helplessly against the cage again. Helpless in two senses, that is; in one sense that I wasn't getting out of there anytime soon without one of the keys, but in the other that I'd had no chance, in that moment, of not trying to get hard. Her words had been like a direct message straight to my penis. My four limbs felt loose, relaxed, and I was a little dizzy- none of which, I don't think, had anything to do with the beer.

"I suppose."

"So you just...if you don't mind my asking, do you have someone who, like, holds on to the keys, or...?"

"Ah, no, no...not at the moment", I said, keeping my voice low. "Sometimes I just put the cage on for a little while to, you know..."- I felt myself blushing again- "...to tease myself."

"How long is a little while?"

"Oh, not too long usually. I'd say the longest I've ever gone- with the cage, anyway- has been about a week."

Her eyes widened and the awe came back to her face. But at the same time, the information seemed to give her pleasure. "A week? I can't even go for...ahem." She fixed me with a mock-stern expression. "That's privileged information."

I laughed. "Wait, so you get to know how long I go, but I don't get to know how long you...?"

She stuck out her tongue. "That's right, mister. That's not the kind of thing a lady talks about."

"What a raw deal." I shook my head, still smiling, and tried not to stare at the movement of her black stockings as she crossed her legs. I'd gotten a glimpse, however, and suddenly I was once again trying very hard to break out of my tiny prison. Could she tell? I had the feeling that she could, and that she liked it (both that I was trying to escape and that I couldn't, that is), but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

We settled into what felt to me like a comfortable silence. After a few moments, I realized that she was looking up at the TV. The game was back. "So this is baseball", she said, sounding like someone who'd just arrived on Mars and discovered the detritus of an incomprehensible game.

I confirmed her statement. "This is baseball."

"Who's playing?"

"Well, it's the Mets against the Braves." My own voice sounded strange to me. There was an emotional and almost physical toll to bringing myself out of the reverie that I'd suddenly found myself in, to focusing on the real world again. "The Mets have had a pretty good season, but they have to win either tonight or tomorrow. Otherwise they miss the playoffs, and the Braves get in. I like the Mets."

She nodded. "So they're one game away from the playoffs?"

"Mm-hmm."

She moved a little closer to me, touching my shoulder again. It felt like my arm was fighting off a powerful electric current, and suddenly I could barely sit still.

"But if they don't win one of these last two games", she began, a little quieter than before, "It would be like...well, it would be like they'd gotten so close to what they wanted, and then at the last moment it was taken away from them? By the...Bears?"

"The Braves, Lily. The Bears play football. But yes, I think that would be a fair description of their...predicament."

"That sounds like it would be really frustrating", she suggested. "Not just for them, but for you."

"I think it would be. I hope it doesn't happen."

She repurposed her hand towards the task of picking up her drink, and smiled as she shrugged; as if it were a matter of total indifference to her. Which I suppose it was. "I guess we'll see."

On TV, the Mets' shortstop hit a single, and cruised into first base. "Do you remember bases?" she asked, again looking up at the TV.

"Bases...uh, what do you mean?"

"You know, when you were a teenager. Did you and your guy friends talk about bases? Like, sexual bases?"

"Ohhhhh, right. Yeah. I vaguely remember that whole concept."

"First base was..."

"I think first base was...kissing."

"Mmm." She smiled at the thought, and I casually (I hoped) pressed down hard on the edge of the bar, using all my strength. All this pent-up energy had to go somewhere. I'd managed briefly to relax inside the cage for a few moments, but I hadn't had enough time to recover. Talking about this was getting increasingly frustrating. A million thoughts were racing through my head.

"Second base was..."

I shifted in my seat, exhaled, and picked up my glass, noticing that my hand was trembling. I put the glass back down without drinking from it, not wanting to take the chance of spilling it. "Second base was...well, from a male perspective..."

She made a gesture. "Naturally."

"Second base was...well...touching a girl's breasts."

Her eyes sparkled and she touched my hand with hers. "How thrilling!" The cage suddenly felt very small.

"Indeed." I did my best to sound casual, though I wasn't sure it was working in the slightest. I'd have had to be a master thespian, which I wasn't. "Third was...again, from a male perspective, a...blowjob. I don't remember much talk of going down on a girl in the world of adolescent boys, but I guess that might have counted. I'm not sure. And home base..."

She interrupted me, fixing me with a genuinely curious look. "Do you think it should have counted?"

"What? Oh, you mean..."

She watched me, smiling.

"Well, uh...yeah, I do, actually. I mean, it's not exactly the same thing, but I think...I think there's a different kind of pleasure to be found in..." I paused a long time. "Serving."

She merely continued to watch me, the smile on her face growing. "What a sweet boy", she said, as if to herself.

I was worried I was about to break the cage from inside. I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself, but I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and my voice came out more high-pitched than usual. I coughed, cleared my throat again. "And then home base is...well...home is home."

"Self-explanatory", she agreed. "So, just going by the male perspective on sexual bases, excluding for a moment your enlightened twenty-first century views on serving, you couldn't even reach third base or home right now, could you?"

A million conflicting emotions ran through me again in the course of a few seconds. "Well, I...I'm physically capable. I would just need...my keys."

"Back at your apartment", she said, meeting my eyes.

"Yes", I answered, trying to breathe. "Back at my apartment."

"Well", she said, smiling, "I was just speaking hypothetically, anyway. Don't worry. I don't want to test your resolve." She couldn't quite get through that with a straight face, however, and she must have seen the look of disappointment that suddenly came across mine, because she started to laugh again. She reached over and brushed my hair back from my head.

Grinning and leaning closer to me, she asked, "What about seeing a girl naked? Or maybe in some cute lingerie or something?"

"That I'm capable of even without the keys", I promised, unable to keep a note of hopefulness out of my voice.

She giggled harder. "No silly, what base is it?"

I considered. "I...don't think it was a base. But now that you mention it, maybe it should've been."

On TV, the Mets got another hit, and the player on first went into an all-out sprint, rounding second and within a few seconds diving into the dirt for third.

She shook her head. "Now see, look how fast these guys are rounding the bases. Don't you think they should be going a little more slowly?"

I shook my head, but in a way that indicated agreement. I was ready to agree with just about anything she said, actually. "They're not really savoring each base", I observed. "There's no way he enjoyed second, with how quickly he ran through it."

"That's what I mean", she said. "I think guys should go slow around bases, don't you? I mean, really slowly."

"Well sometimes they don't even finish", I pointed out.

She gasped in mock horror, putting her hand to her face. "What a terrible fate!"

"I mean, this guy"- I gestured to the player who'd just hit a single to make it first and third with two outs- "could get stranded on first, if the inning ends."

She shook her head back and forth. "That would be so sad." Unable to help herself, she smiled. "Stranded on first." She repeated the phrase once more, as if she actually quite liked the idea. She reached over and brushed my hair again, and I allowed myself a quick kiss on her wrist. "Stranded on first", she said one more time. "Something about that is kind of hot, you know? Not that I'd want to keep a guy there forever." She paused, considering. "But the thought of keeping him there for a while, without knowing when he's going to be rescued...mmmm. I like taking it slow."

I had started to notice within myself a strange desire to agree with her opinions on this issue. "First base is underrated."

Her hand touched my thigh, tapped the cage again, and suddenly I had to hold on to the bar to steady myself. My toes contracted, my cage shrunk, and I had to take a few deep breaths so the other people around us wouldn't think I needed medical attention.

"I'm glad you think so", Lily said. "How far away did you say your apartment was, again?"

"You're wearing one, aren't you?"

I felt something close to panic rush through me, and turned in my seat to find a woman sitting at the stool next to mine. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and was wearing a sleeveless red dress that ran to just above her knees. In the somewhat shadowy lighting of the pub, I caught a glimpse of black stockinged legs. Her nails were painted a deep red that matched her dress. I met her eyes with an expression that must have betrayed all of my panic; because as I did, she put her hand to her mouth and laughed, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Ha-ha! I don't know what I'm saying. I mean, I don't even know you!"

There were a lot of people sitting at the tables spread throughout the cavernous beer garden, but only a few of us up here at the bar. The bartender, a nice-looking blonde-haired girl of about 30, was all the way at the other end, and no one seemed to have noticed my interaction with this mysterious stranger. But once I recovered from my surprise, I relaxed a little. "That's okay", I told her. "Have you had a few?" It was hard to tell.

The woman was still giggling at (I think) her own brazenness, and shook her head while she raised a mostly full glass of draught beer. "Not at all. I just...noticed you over at that table, and, well..."

I followed the general direction of her gesture. It was starting to make a little sense now. She'd indicated a table in the back where about twenty people were sitting around. I'd never been to a BDSM meet-up before. I'd sat down, made some small talk, felt a little awkward, and then wandered away. I'd realized that I didn't quite feel up to socializing; and besides, the Mets were playing. Up on the TV, their leadoff hitter was getting himself set in the batter's box.

"Ah", I said, nodding. Still, how did she...? I glanced down at my black jeans to reassure myself that no one could possibly tell. But I was still confused. "I didn't see you there, though," I said, still avoiding the question with which she'd started our interaction. "I think I would have noticed."

She smiled at that. "I was hiding at that other table", she said, pointing. "Waiting and watching like a creeper. Lost my nerve. But it didn't seem like you really knew anyone in the group. You were brave to go over there!"

"Oh, it was nothing really."

"But then I saw you walk over here."

I nodded, taking a sip of my Blue Moon- mostly just to give myself a second to muster the genuine courage that I suddenly felt I needed. "I guess I was just feeling a little out-of-place", I shrugged. "You're right- just about everyone over there seemed to know each other." I met her eyes- large and brown with a hint of green (or so the atmosphere of the shadows in the bar made it seem)- and forged ahead with what I needed to ask. "Ah- you can't really tell, can you...?"

"Tell?" She looked at me blankly.

"Well, you know- you asked me if I was wearing one? You can't, like...see it, right? Through my...jeans?"

Her eyes opened wide, and she smiled with what seemed like a mixture of amusement and awe, cupping her hands over her mouth again as she laughed. She just shook her head for a few seconds. She looked like she'd found a very cute but very exotic animal out in the wild. "Oh my god. You really are?"

My leg started to tremble a little, though I couldn't really say why. I felt myself blush, and took another sip of Blue Moon to try to mask it. "I guess there's no point in trying to deny it now", I chuckled.

She laughed again, at first loudly enough that a few people down the bar glanced our way, but then she got herself under control. "Nope. No point", she said, meeting my eyes. "I really don't know what came over me. And no, don't worry, I can't see..."- she glanced downwards briefly, towards my legs- "...your, uh, little secret." Now she was looking somewhere past my glass of beer. Her voice sounded far away. "I just...I don't know, I saw you walking away from that table, I knew the meet-up was for BDSM, and I guess I put two-and-two together. Something told me...that guy's locked." This last word was delivered with more emphasis but also more quietly than the rest- she seemed to have moved past amusement, to some other emotion that I couldn't quite read. More like fascination.

"Well", I said, not making eye contact and staring at her beer perhaps in much the same way she was staring at mine, "it was a good guess. What brought you to the meet-up?"

"Hmm." She seemed to smile to herself. "That's for me to know."

"And for me to find out?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Maybe."

"You're very mysterious. Can I at least know your name?"

She extended a hand. "Lily."

"Chris, nice to meet you."

After we shook hands, she put her feet on the floor and slid her stool a little closer to mine. Then she sat back down. "Don't worry", she said, "I'm not trying to hit on you. I just...well, I know I can't see it."

I looked around. The bar wasn't crowded, but there were still people around. "Yeah, I don't quite feel like getting arrested tonight."

"You would be getting handcuffed", she pointed out.

"That's true. But not in the context I'd prefer."

She laughed, and touched my shoulder briefly. "I know I can't see it, but could I maybe...feel it? Just for a sec?" She put her hand to her face again to stifle a peal of laughter. "God, I'm such a perv."

I looked around again. No one seemed to be paying attention to us, but I suddenly felt very conspicuous. Partly perhaps because ever since Lily had moved her stool closer to mine, I'd been pressing against the cage harder than I had been all night. I took a deep breath and, in hopes of collecting myself, I glanced up at something completely non-sexual- the baseball game- except that they were between innings, and a commercial was showing a joyful nuclear family piling into a new car. Luckily, that was sufficiently deflating, for the moment. I glanced back at Lily without quite making eye contact. I thought that if I did, I might lose it again. "Sure", I said.

A few seconds later, while I stared at my half-drunk Blue Moon, I felt a red-nailed finger tap me on the front of my jeans- once, twice- and it produced a sound that (I hoped) only she and I could hear. But the hardness of the plastic was enough to convince her, and she leaned forward over the bar, stifling a sudden fit of giggles. Meanwhile, I did my best to compose myself and not give in to the sudden insane arousal I was experiencing, which- if I had abandoned my senses- could have led to my trying to hump the bar. Finally, she met my eyes with the same mixture of amusement and wonderment that I'd noticed before. "Oh my God", she said, smiling. "I love that. That's so great. That's amazing."

Just then, the bartender wandered past, noticed our drinks were still mostly filled, and didn't intrude.

I laughed a little at her reaction, and allowed myself to move my own stool a little closer. "You act like you've just seen some rare animal."

"Well, I've never actually seen one of you boys out in the wild before. I mean...locked up and all."

"I'm glad you like it", I said. "I think."

"So..." She seemed to have gotten control of herself, and now she was quiet again, fixing me with an expression that was still amused, but also somewhat serious. "So where's the key?"

"At my apartment. Not too far away. Keys, that is."

"Oh. More than one?"

"Well yeah, I have a spare. For emergencies, that sort of thing."

She nodded. "That makes sense. It's a valuable thing you're keeping locked up." This last line was delivered with a smile, and I felt myself press helplessly against the cage again. Helpless in two senses, that is; in one sense that I wasn't getting out of there anytime soon without one of the keys, but in the other that I'd had no chance, in that moment, of not trying to get hard. Her words had been like a direct message straight to my penis. My four limbs felt loose, relaxed, and I was a little dizzy- none of which, I don't think, had anything to do with the beer.

"I suppose."

"So you just...if you don't mind my asking, do you have someone who, like, holds on to the keys, or...?"

"Ah, no, no...not at the moment", I said, keeping my voice low. "Sometimes I just put the cage on for a little while to, you know..."- I felt myself blushing again- "...to tease myself."

"How long is a little while?"

"Oh, not too long usually. I'd say the longest I've ever gone- with the cage, anyway- has been about a week."

Her eyes widened and the awe came back to her face. But at the same time, the information seemed to give her pleasure. "A week? I can't even go for...ahem." She fixed me with a mock-stern expression. "That's privileged information."

I laughed. "Wait, so you get to know how long I go, but I don't get to know how long you...?"

She stuck out her tongue. "That's right, mister. That's not the kind of thing a lady talks about."

"What a raw deal." I shook my head, still smiling, and tried not to stare at the movement of her black stockings as she crossed her legs. I'd gotten a glimpse, however, and suddenly I was once again trying very hard to break out of my tiny prison. Could she tell? I had the feeling that she could, and that she liked it (both that I was trying to escape and that I couldn't, that is), but maybe it was just wishful thinking.

We settled into what felt to me like a comfortable silence. After a few moments, I realized that she was looking up at the TV. The game was back. "So this is baseball", she said, sounding like someone who'd just arrived on Mars and discovered the detritus of an incomprehensible game.

I confirmed her statement. "This is baseball."

"Who's playing?"

"Well, it's the Mets against the Braves." My own voice sounded strange to me. There was an emotional and almost physical toll to bringing myself out of the reverie that I'd suddenly found myself in, to focusing on the real world again. "The Mets have had a pretty good season, but they have to win either tonight or tomorrow. Otherwise they miss the playoffs, and the Braves get in. I like the Mets."

She nodded. "So they're one game away from the playoffs?"

"Mm-hmm."

She moved a little closer to me, touching my shoulder again. It felt like my arm was fighting off a powerful electric current, and suddenly I could barely sit still.

"But if they don't win one of these last two games", she began, a little quieter than before, "It would be like...well, it would be like they'd gotten so close to what they wanted, and then at the last moment it was taken away from them? By the...Bears?"

"The Braves, Lily. The Bears play football. But yes, I think that would be a fair description of their...predicament."

"That sounds like it would be really frustrating", she suggested. "Not just for them, but for you."

"I think it would be. I hope it doesn't happen."

She repurposed her hand towards the task of picking up her drink, and smiled as she shrugged; as if it were a matter of total indifference to her. Which I suppose it was. "I guess we'll see."

On TV, the Mets' shortstop hit a single, and cruised into first base. "Do you remember bases?" she asked, again looking up at the TV.

"Bases...uh, what do you mean?"

"You know, when you were a teenager. Did you and your guy friends talk about bases? Like, sexual bases?"

"Ohhhhh, right. Yeah. I vaguely remember that whole concept."

"First base was..."

"I think first base was...kissing."

"Mmm." She smiled at the thought, and I casually (I hoped) pressed down hard on the edge of the bar, using all my strength. All this pent-up energy had to go somewhere. I'd managed briefly to relax inside the cage for a few moments, but I hadn't had enough time to recover. Talking about this was getting increasingly frustrating. A million thoughts were racing through my head.

"Second base was..."

I shifted in my seat, exhaled, and picked up my glass, noticing that my hand was trembling. I put the glass back down without drinking from it, not wanting to take the chance of spilling it. "Second base was...well, from a male perspective..."

She made a gesture. "Naturally."

"Second base was...well...touching a girl's breasts."

Her eyes sparkled and she touched my hand with hers. "How thrilling!" The cage suddenly felt very small.

"Indeed." I did my best to sound casual, though I wasn't sure it was working in the slightest. I'd have had to be a master thespian, which I wasn't. "Third was...again, from a male perspective, a...blowjob. I don't remember much talk of going down on a girl in the world of adolescent boys, but I guess that might have counted. I'm not sure. And home base..."

She interrupted me, fixing me with a genuinely curious look. "Do you think it should have counted?"

"What? Oh, you mean..."

She watched me, smiling.

"Well, uh...yeah, I do, actually. I mean, it's not exactly the same thing, but I think...I think there's a different kind of pleasure to be found in..." I paused a long time. "Serving."

She merely continued to watch me, the smile on her face growing. "What a sweet boy", she said, as if to herself.

I was worried I was about to break the cage from inside. I cleared my throat and tried to compose myself, but I couldn't stop my legs from shaking, and my voice came out more high-pitched than usual. I coughed, cleared my throat again. "And then home base is...well...home is home."

"Self-explanatory", she agreed. "So, just going by the male perspective on sexual bases, excluding for a moment your enlightened twenty-first century views on serving, you couldn't even reach third base or home right now, could you?"

A million conflicting emotions ran through me again in the course of a few seconds. "Well, I...I'm physically capable. I would just need...my keys."

"Back at your apartment", she said, meeting my eyes.

"Yes", I answered, trying to breathe. "Back at my apartment."

"Well", she said, smiling, "I was just speaking hypothetically, anyway. Don't worry. I don't want to test your resolve." She couldn't quite get through that with a straight face, however, and she must have seen the look of disappointment that suddenly came across mine, because she started to laugh again. She reached over and brushed my hair back from my head.

Grinning and leaning closer to me, she asked, "What about seeing a girl naked? Or maybe in some cute lingerie or something?"

"That I'm capable of even without the keys", I promised, unable to keep a note of hopefulness out of my voice.

She giggled harder. "No silly, what base is it?"

I considered. "I...don't think it was a base. But now that you mention it, maybe it should've been."

On TV, the Mets got another hit, and the player on first went into an all-out sprint, rounding second and within a few seconds diving into the dirt for third.

She shook her head. "Now see, look how fast these guys are rounding the bases. Don't you think they should be going a little more slowly?"

I shook my head, but in a way that indicated agreement. I was ready to agree with just about anything she said, actually. "They're not really savoring each base", I observed. "There's no way he enjoyed second, with how quickly he ran through it."

"That's what I mean", she said. "I think guys should go slow around bases, don't you? I mean, really slowly."

"Well sometimes they don't even finish", I pointed out.

She gasped in mock horror, putting her hand to her face. "What a terrible fate!"

"I mean, this guy"- I gestured to the player who'd just hit a single to make it first and third with two outs- "could get stranded on first, if the inning ends."

She shook her head back and forth. "That would be so sad." Unable to help herself, she smiled. "Stranded on first." She repeated the phrase once more, as if she actually quite liked the idea. She reached over and brushed my hair again, and I allowed myself a quick kiss on her wrist. "Stranded on first", she said one more time. "Something about that is kind of hot, you know? Not that I'd want to keep a guy there forever." She paused, considering. "But the thought of keeping him there for a while, without knowing when he's going to be rescued...mmmm. I like taking it slow."

I had started to notice within myself a strange desire to agree with her opinions on this issue. "First base is underrated."

Her hand touched my thigh, tapped the cage again, and suddenly I had to hold on to the bar to steady myself. My toes contracted, my cage shrunk, and I had to take a few deep breaths so the other people around us wouldn't think I needed medical attention.

"I'm glad you think so", Lily said. "How far away did you say your apartment was, again?"

Over the course of the following week, the blowjob from hell- or maybe it had been the blowjob from heaven, I was having a hard time deciding- continued to do a sweet mindfucking number on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Selena and what she'd done to me- both the blowjob and the spell itself, which had effectively rendered me chaste- except strangely, in a pattern I was beginning to recognize, during the time she and I talked during the week.

Let me explain.

First of all, it's not that we saw each other that week- we both had work, and other responsibilities- but it seemed even to me that it was a good thing for us not to see each other for a few days, anyway. It built anticipation for what was to come (or not come, as seemed to be my predicament), for one thing, but Selena also- future events would emphasize this to me- seemed to have a good sense of rhythm and pacing, just like a writer or a musician. She understood what she'd put me through, she understood the thoughts that were bouncing around in my mind, and I don't think she wanted to overload me. She also understood that the blowjob from heaven/hell had been something of a small masterpiece of torment, and she wanted to let its effects on me linger.

When I say, then, that our conversations were the only times during the week that my fevered brain settled down a bit, it's because our conversations were not the all-out tease-a-thons that you might expect- not that week, anyway- but fairly normal conversations about movies, music, books, work, what we'd studied in college- all of the cautious avenues through which we open ourselves and our worldviews to others. Through it all, I kept in mind that I was talking to someone who'd obviously been drawn to magic at some point in her life, drawn so intently that she'd become quite powerful, more powerful than just about anyone I could think of aside from Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And Willow wasn't real. Though she was cute. Almost as cute as Selena.

We talked about people we knew, like Emily, whose party we'd met at. The funny thing was that I almost hadn't gone that night. I used to be much closer friends with Emily, and had been a little surprised that she'd even texted me about the party that evening. Not that we'd fallen out or anything like that, just grown apart since we'd met about ten years earlier in college. We'd hooked up once or twice back then, but there were no hard feelings- or at least I didn't think there were. We'd stayed in touch over the years, but mostly through text. A tall, attractive girl with long brown hair and long legs, I had actually had a notion that maybe something could be rekindled between me and Emily...until I'd run into Selena, at any rate.

During my few moments of lucid thought that week, reflecting back on meeting Selena at that party, I realized that there was something nagging at me about the whole encounter. It was at the very edge of my consciousness, but I couldn't quite put it into words.

Still, as I suggested above, as much as talking with Selena naturally brought all my feelings of yearning and desire for her back to the surface, it also muted them somewhat, made them bearable...because I was with her (at least over the phone), she was interested in what I had to say, I was going to get to see her again. The only price I had to pay for all that was not being able to orgasm. And what did that really matter?

The night before I'd met her, I think I would've said that it mattered a great deal. But suddenly, curiously, it didn't seem to.

And besides, she would let me have an orgasm eventually.

Wouldn't she?

I made a point to bring that up with her. Yes- in a reasonable, businesslike manner, I would tell her that I loved the game we were playing, but that I hoped she did intend to let me orgasm at some point. That was only reasonable, wasn't it?

Yes- I'd bring it up just like that. That weekend, I promised myself.

The only real teasing I was subjected to before the weekend came towards the end of our call on Tuesday night, when I couldn't help it- she mentioned something that had happened to her at lunch that day, and I told her that earlier I'd taken an apple from the fridge to work, and that innocent piece of fruit had brought all the memories of the past weekend flooding back, which was true.

She laughed quietly at that. I wasn't sure where she was in her apartment, but something about her laughter (or maybe it was just my imagination) made me imagine that she was reclining on the same couch I'd been sitting on when she'd given me the blowjob from heaven/hell.

"You know, Matt", she said quietly, "'apple' actually is an important word for you. Just not quite in the way I said."

"What do you mean, Sel...uh, Miss Selena?"

I thought I could sense her smiling on the other end. Throughout our conversation that night, I'd actually simply been calling her Selena. But something had shifted in just a few moments, and now "Miss" seemed more appropriate.

"Well. It's your safeword."

"You mean...?"

"Mm-hmm. If there's something you're uncomfortable with, or even if you want to stop. Just say the word 'apple', and we can press pause. And discuss."

"That makes me feel a lot better, actually. I'll remember, Miss Selena. But I can't imagine wanting to stop right now."

That made her laugh. I told her that I had tried again a few times since I'd last seen her- tried to have an orgasm, that is- which was also true, and she laughed some more.

"I...I don't know if that's against the rules, or..."

"It's not", she replied, finally stifling her giggles. "It's okay, Matt. I don't mind you touching yourself. Why should I, now that we both know the outcome of that action is predetermined?"

"More frustration", I groaned, feeling myself press against the inside of my pants. I was beginning to associate that feeling- getting hard- with frustration and futility. Before I'd met Selena, it had often been a precursor to pleasure.

"Smart boy", she whispered. Her voice and her breathing seemed to have changed slightly, and now I imagined her lying back langorously on that couch, or maybe curled up like a sexy cat with violet-colored nails.

"I like that you tried, actually", she whispered. "Tell me more about it, Matt. What were you thinking about? How hard did you try? Maybe you just didn't want it enough?"

I attempted to answer, but all I seemed capable of was a moan of frustration. I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing on the other end of the line.

She giggled, prompting more whimpers from me. Just like that, with a snap of her fingers, she'd taken me from 0 to 60.

"Please let me cum, Selena", I whispered. Suddenly I felt that I'd never wanted to so badly in my life.

"Try again for me, Matt", she whispered as she continued to touch herself on the other end.

I did.

Friday night. To my surprise- to both my relief and quiet disappointment- the prevailing dynamic of the previous week (excepting Tuesday night's torture session, during which Selena had brought herself to orgasm over the phone) had carried over. The evening hadn't featured any elaborate or diabolical games of teasing. Selena hadn't opened the door in full leather-clad dominatrix garb, but rather in a cozy-looking sweater and a knee-length black cotton skirt. We'd more or less just had dinner at her place, and now we were watching a movie on the couch, my head resting on her lap while she reached down to rub my head and run her fingers through my hair from time to time. I wouldn't say that resting my head so close to her bare legs was helping me to think NON-sexual thoughts, exactly- okay, not even close- but nor was it cruel teasing. By the same token, the way I was lying could have been construed as submissive, but she didn't say or do anything throughout the course of the movie to make that explicit. I was fully dressed, by the way, black jeans and a t-shirt.

Maybe, I considered, that's because she didn't feel the need to make it explicit. I felt it deeply, and I think she did, too. Even without any teasing (unless you considered the absence of teasing a tease in itself), I felt like a nervous, tongue-tied teenager around her- wondering if we would make out later, but not quite daring to make the first move. I replayed moments in my mind of reaching out and touching a shoulder or a cheek, making eye contact, slowly moving in for a kiss. Terrifying at 16, but it got easier the more you practiced.

But now it was terrifying again. Believe me, a beautiful woman having complete control of your orgasms will make you a bit hesitant in that regard.

And the lack of explicit teasing was about to change, in any case.

When the movie ended, Selena patted me on the head, and I sat up. She looked at me with a somewhat devious smile, patted both of her bare knees thoughtfully, and said, "I have an idea."

Just the way she said it made my heart beat faster. "I like it already."

She laughed. "Don't be too quick to say so. It will be a test your self-control."

That was all it took to make me excited. I found myself biting my knuckle before I even knew what I was doing, and I involuntarily crossed my legs. "How...how does it work?"

Selena just looked at me for a few seconds. Then she said, "Remember those handcuffs I showed you? The ones from my purse?"

(I forgot to mention- for a very brief moment earlier that night, after we'd met outside "our" cafe, in a moment that could arguably be considered an instance of teasing, she had intentionally (?) allowed me to see a pair of padded handcuffs inside her purse. The effect on me had been as I think she'd intended.)

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Yes who, Matt?"

"Yes, Miss Selena." The last few hours, which had seemed almost like a normal date, faded away instantly.

"Good boy." By this point she was up at her dresser, reaching for her purse. I heard the faint sound of metal. Then she approached me grinning, with her hands hidden behind her back. I swallowed again, and looked up at her with what I hoped were the most persuasive puppy-dog eyes I could muster. Quickly, in one fluid motion, she was sitting on top of me, straddling me on the couch. Her black skirt extended over only the uppermost parts of her legs now (not to mention my lap), its hem tickling me, and her sweatered upper body resting a few inches away from mine. It was quite a modest, purple, hanging-out-around-the-house sweater (the same color she'd painted her fingernails and toenails), but I could still vaguely make out the shape of her breasts beneath. Not that I stared. Or I tried not to, anyway. Attentive readers will recall that I had not yet seen her breasts, not once, and it seemed to me that there was at least an additional t-shirt and bra between me and them. Her hands were still hidden behind her back.

She smiled at me playfully, and when she spoke it was closer to a whisper. "Here's how this is going to work. I'm going to give you three chances to be handcuffed." She tapped me on the nose once, gently, and then continued, her lips a few inches from mine. "The catch is, Matt, I know you find the idea exciting. So you need to be a good boy and control yourself while I do it."

I moaned out loud. "You mean..."

She nodded. "I think you've guessed it, Matt." Her tone was suddenly a little sharper, a little more authoritative. Not angry by any stretch, but letting me know that this wasn't a debate. "No erections."

Pressing her hands against the couch behind me and disentangling our bodies, she added, happily, "And you've just lost round one!"

I groaned perhaps louder than I had since I'd met her. "But Se- I mean, Miss Selena, that's not FAIR..."

She giggled happily, practically skipping over to her chair, clearly delighted at having set the rules so clearly in her favor. "No, I guess it isn't", she chirped. "I'll give you five minutes", she added, picking up her book.

I took a deep breath and tried surfing the channels on her TV. I avoided the channels that I knew showed movies, because you never knew what kind of scene might be playing. Instead I found myself flipping through sports channels, and settled on a baseball game. The moribund Chicago White Sox, currently on a 9-game losing streak, were playing The Baltimore Orioles. Sweaty men with mustaches running around a diamond- quite possibly the least sexual thing I could ever hope to see, at least as far as I was concerned. Perfect. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the game as much as possible. All the while, Selena hummed quietly and contentedly while reading, as if she held all the cards. Even in that moment I think I knew that she did. What's more, I liked it.

All too soon, Selena stood up. "That's five minutes. Ready to try again?"

I was as ready as I'd ever be. "Um...just out of curiosity, Miss Selena", I asked as she approached me with her hands behind her back again, "what will we do once I'm...you know...cuffed?"

She looked amused. "Do you really want me to answer that", she said, biting her lip, "when your mission...your goal...your assignment, my good boy...is to stay soft?"

I swallowed hard and willed myself to relax. "Good point. Thanks, Miss Selena." Simply calling her that excited me, which didn't seem entirely fair either, but I didn't raise the point.

"Of course", she said, quickly straddling me again. Her voice had returned to a whisper. "I want you to have a fighting chance."

After a week of wanting to cum more badly than I ever had before in my life, I was painfully aware of her skirt riding up her legs, her panties resting against the front of my jeans. My penis was aware of it, too. It felt like heaven- or at least like I was at the gates of heaven. This was the definition of unfair. I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to stop my legs from trembling. Her hands were still behind her back.

She looked me in the eyes. Moved forward. Planted a soft kiss on my lips. Let it linger for a second. Two.

...And stood up laughing, smoothing her skirt over her legs. I stifled a sob, pressing my hand to my face and letting myself collapse on my side, groaning and shuddering.

Selena laughed gleefully, triumphantly, and practically hopped back to her chair and her book.

When she'd sat down once again, legs crossed, she smiled fondly at me. "Now, you had a question?"

I managed to compose myself, mentally calculating that I was probably already down to four minutes left, and I would need to turn back to the baseball game ASAP. "I was just wondering...Miss Selena...what we were going to do after you...you know, after you cuff me?"

Still smiling, she said, "Well, at the moment, I would say the answer to that is unlikely to be relevant. You're at two strikes after all, Matt. Since you're watching baseball. I'm tempted to say it's not the kind of thing that a submissive boy like you really needs to worry about, but...oh..."

She paused, twirling her hair around one finger and letting her top leg swing gently, hypnotically, from right to left. Her toenails were still painted violet and her legs were bare, but something about the combination of shadows and light almost made it look like she was wearing a pair of sheer stockings. Or maybe that just tells you something about the imagination of a subjugated male.

"Oh...let's just say..." She fixed her eyes on me. "Nothing you won't like. Possibly something super sexy, to be played out on my bed over there." She nodded in that direction, and my eyes momentarily followed her gaze. Her voice became quiet, distant, almost as if she were fantasizing herself. Her swinging leg continued to have an almost hypnotic effect on me. "You might even get to see what I'm wearing under this sweater. I actually really like the bra I wore today. Without wanting to flatter myself, I think it's quite becoming. Violet, lace. Victoria's Secret, are you familiar with that brand?" She asked this while turning back to her book and appearing to scrutinize a passage.

I'd looked back towards the television, which was unfortunately on a commercial. I tried to keep the anguish out of my voice, but it was impossible. My erection felt like it was about to burst through my jeans. "I've...I've heard tell", I managed in a trembling voice.

"It would almost be a shame if you didn't get to see it", she continued dreamily, almost to herself, still reading, one long leg swinging happily from side to side.

She looked up from the book. "Or maybe, if you're very good, I'll give you another blowjob. Maybe I'll let you choose between that and seeing under my sweater."

My voice trembled along with my body at the thought of another blowjob. "One where I...where I get to...orgasm?"

She held my gaze for a second before bursting into giggles that almost caused her to drop her book. Then she shook her head slowly, cupping her face and smiling at me. "Of course not, silly."

All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and push my head back against the couch, my hips rising up and humping the air. In body, mind and spirit, I wanted another blowjob from heaven/hell. Needed it. "Please, Miss Selena", I whispered plangently.

"Oh well. You probably want to think about something other than my bra. Three minutes left, by the way."

They were somehow both incredibly slow and incredibly long. The game returned, and I couldn't follow anything that was happening. Nevertheless, the familiar rhythms of sport brought me back from the world of erotic longing ever so briefly...until I heard Selena say, "Time's up."

I heard the clink of the chain as she stood up, and she approached me one last time with her hands behind her back. I tried thinking about the Orioles and the White Sox, mountains and deserts. Walking through a dry desert, sex the last thing on my mind.

One last time, she straddled me. I felt the weight of her body against mine, her breasts against my chest, and she kissed me softly again. But this time I was ready for it, had already catalogued it as one of the challenges I'd have to face. My legs were shaking slightly, but I told my body that there was nothing to get overly excited about. The kiss was old news.

She pulled back from the kiss and I was aware of metal and leather resting against my left thigh- the cuffs- as she took each one of my hands in hers, interlocking our fingers and guiding my wrists behind my back, her breasts again pressing against mine as she did so. My mouth was on her shoulder in this position, and I kissed it through the sweater very gently and worshipfully, hoping that wasn't against the rules. I could smell her perfume. I was getting lost in her beauty, but the simple act of kissing also seemed like a way to divert some of my body's energy and excitement.

I felt her reach for the cuffs, and then a padded cuff began to wrap around one of my wrists. I was practically holding my breath. "I'm impressed, Matt", she whispered. "It looks like you're going to get to see what's underneath my sweater after all. What's underneath my skirt. Or at least have the choice to. Are you ready to be my prisoner?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. My whole body was shaking. Just a few more seconds, I thought.

She giggled lightly in my ear. "But a blowjob where you get to finish at the end." Slight "tsk-tsk-tsk" as she shook her head. "The very idea. You know that's not for you. Not anymore."

I groaned with superhuman effort as she shifted on top of me and I noticed her skirt ride up one of her legs, the warmth of her thigh pressing close to my groin. Not anymore? I tried to shrug off the implications. Especially because there was some small non-rational part of me that was turned on by the implications. All that mattered in this moment was staying soft. All that mattered was that, in a matter of moments, I was going to really see Selena's beautiful, amazing body. The night was going to be an odyssey of teasing beyond my wildest imagination, an odyssey that would make this seem like foreplay.

She moved to my right side, taking the wrist that was still free in hand. In this position, she was leaning to my side. I felt the cuff beginning to encircle my right wrist, and as it did so, she whispered in my ear: "Click."

...

...And threw back her head, giggling, disengaging from me at the same time.

I fell over to my side again, groaning and trying not to sob, pounding the couch once- twice- in futility. I felt my erection pressing helplessly against the cushions from inside my jeans. "I was SO close..."

From her reading chair, she smiled fondly at me, shaking her head. "SO close..."

I closed my eyes, with my now full-fledged erection pressing maddeningly hard into her couch, and remembered that, even if I were at home by myself, there'd be nothing that I could do about it. I tried to imagine the purple lace Victoria's Secret bra that I wasn't going to get to see, but somehow I couldn't conjure up even an image in my mind's eye. It was almost as if my unconscious mind had decided to show obedience towards Selena, as well. I could almost imagine her in my head, reminding me that boys who can't control their erections don't get to fantasize.

Raising my left hand, still cuffed, I said, "Miss Selena, you uh...left this attached to my wrist."

She shrugged, opening up her book again. "I think we can keep it like that for a little while. It looks good on you, Matt. And it's not like it's so different from what we were going to do, anyway. The only real difference is you're not cuffed to my bed, and I'm not straddling you in my lingerie. Not removing my bra while you watch, letting you see me in stockings, that sort of thing. But maybe you'll show better self-control next time! And"- she clapped her hands together as if just struck by the idea- "tonight, we could still watch another movie, if you want. Maybe play chess, or monopoly?"

Over the course of the following week, the blowjob from hell- or maybe it had been the blowjob from heaven, I was having a hard time deciding- continued to do a sweet mindfucking number on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Selena and what she'd done to me- both the blowjob and the spell itself, which had effectively rendered me chaste- except strangely, in a pattern I was beginning to recognize, during the time she and I talked during the week.

Let me explain.

First of all, it's not that we saw each other that week- we both had work, and other responsibilities- but it seemed even to me that it was a good thing for us not to see each other for a few days, anyway. It built anticipation for what was to come (or not come, as seemed to be my predicament), for one thing, but Selena also- future events would emphasize this to me- seemed to have a good sense of rhythm and pacing, just like a writer or a musician. She understood what she'd put me through, she understood the thoughts that were bouncing around in my mind, and I don't think she wanted to overload me. She also understood that the blowjob from heaven/hell had been something of a small masterpiece of torment, and she wanted to let its effects on me linger.

When I say, then, that our conversations were the only times during the week that my fevered brain settled down a bit, it's because our conversations were not the all-out tease-a-thons that you might expect- not that week, anyway- but fairly normal conversations about movies, music, books, work, what we'd studied in college- all of the cautious avenues through which we open ourselves and our worldviews to others. Through it all, I kept in mind that I was talking to someone who'd obviously been drawn to magic at some point in her life, drawn so intently that she'd become quite powerful, more powerful than just about anyone I could think of aside from Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And Willow wasn't real. Though she was cute. Almost as cute as Selena.

We talked about people we knew, like Emily, whose party we'd met at. The funny thing was that I almost hadn't gone that night. I used to be much closer friends with Emily, and had been a little surprised that she'd even texted me about the party that evening. Not that we'd fallen out or anything like that, just grown apart since we'd met about ten years earlier in college. We'd hooked up once or twice back then, but there were no hard feelings- or at least I didn't think there were. We'd stayed in touch over the years, but mostly through text. A tall, attractive girl with long brown hair and long legs, I had actually had a notion that maybe something could be rekindled between me and Emily...until I'd run into Selena, at any rate.

During my few moments of lucid thought that week, reflecting back on meeting Selena at that party, I realized that there was something nagging at me about the whole encounter. It was at the very edge of my consciousness, but I couldn't quite put it into words.

Still, as I suggested above, as much as talking with Selena naturally brought all my feelings of yearning and desire for her back to the surface, it also muted them somewhat, made them bearable...because I was with her (at least over the phone), she was interested in what I had to say, I was going to get to see her again. The only price I had to pay for all that was not being able to orgasm. And what did that really matter?

The night before I'd met her, I think I would've said that it mattered a great deal. But suddenly, curiously, it didn't seem to.

And besides, she would let me have an orgasm eventually.

Wouldn't she?

I made a point to bring that up with her. Yes- in a reasonable, businesslike manner, I would tell her that I loved the game we were playing, but that I hoped she did intend to let me orgasm at some point. That was only reasonable, wasn't it?

Yes- I'd bring it up just like that. That weekend, I promised myself.

The only real teasing I was subjected to before the weekend came towards the end of our call on Tuesday night, when I couldn't help it- she mentioned something that had happened to her at lunch that day, and I told her that earlier I'd taken an apple from the fridge to work, and that innocent piece of fruit had brought all the memories of the past weekend flooding back, which was true.

She laughed quietly at that. I wasn't sure where she was in her apartment, but something about her laughter (or maybe it was just my imagination) made me imagine that she was reclining on the same couch I'd been sitting on when she'd given me the blowjob from heaven/hell.

"You know, Matt", she said quietly, "'apple' actually is an important word for you. Just not quite in the way I said."

"What do you mean, Sel...uh, Miss Selena?"

I thought I could sense her smiling on the other end. Throughout our conversation that night, I'd actually simply been calling her Selena. But something had shifted in just a few moments, and now "Miss" seemed more appropriate.

"Well. It's your safeword."

"You mean...?"

"Mm-hmm. If there's something you're uncomfortable with, or even if you want to stop. Just say the word 'apple', and we can press pause. And discuss."

"That makes me feel a lot better, actually. I'll remember, Miss Selena. But I can't imagine wanting to stop right now."

That made her laugh. I told her that I had tried again a few times since I'd last seen her- tried to have an orgasm, that is- which was also true, and she laughed some more.

"I...I don't know if that's against the rules, or..."

"It's not", she replied, finally stifling her giggles. "It's okay, Matt. I don't mind you touching yourself. Why should I, now that we both know the outcome of that action is predetermined?"

"More frustration", I groaned, feeling myself press against the inside of my pants. I was beginning to associate that feeling- getting hard- with frustration and futility. Before I'd met Selena, it had often been a precursor to pleasure.

"Smart boy", she whispered. Her voice and her breathing seemed to have changed slightly, and now I imagined her lying back langorously on that couch, or maybe curled up like a sexy cat with violet-colored nails.

"I like that you tried, actually", she whispered. "Tell me more about it, Matt. What were you thinking about? How hard did you try? Maybe you just didn't want it enough?"

I attempted to answer, but all I seemed capable of was a moan of frustration. I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing on the other end of the line.

She giggled, prompting more whimpers from me. Just like that, with a snap of her fingers, she'd taken me from 0 to 60.

"Please let me cum, Selena", I whispered. Suddenly I felt that I'd never wanted to so badly in my life.

"Try again for me, Matt", she whispered as she continued to touch herself on the other end.

I did.

Friday night. To my surprise- to both my relief and quiet disappointment- the prevailing dynamic of the previous week (excepting Tuesday night's torture session, during which Selena had brought herself to orgasm over the phone) had carried over. The evening hadn't featured any elaborate or diabolical games of teasing. Selena hadn't opened the door in full leather-clad dominatrix garb, but rather in a cozy-looking sweater and a knee-length black cotton skirt. We'd more or less just had dinner at her place, and now we were watching a movie on the couch, my head resting on her lap while she reached down to rub my head and run her fingers through my hair from time to time. I wouldn't say that resting my head so close to her bare legs was helping me to think NON-sexual thoughts, exactly- okay, not even close- but nor was it cruel teasing. By the same token, the way I was lying could have been construed as submissive, but she didn't say or do anything throughout the course of the movie to make that explicit. I was fully dressed, by the way, black jeans and a t-shirt.

Maybe, I considered, that's because she didn't feel the need to make it explicit. I felt it deeply, and I think she did, too. Even without any teasing (unless you considered the absence of teasing a tease in itself), I felt like a nervous, tongue-tied teenager around her- wondering if we would make out later, but not quite daring to make the first move. I replayed moments in my mind of reaching out and touching a shoulder or a cheek, making eye contact, slowly moving in for a kiss. Terrifying at 16, but it got easier the more you practiced.

But now it was terrifying again. Believe me, a beautiful woman having complete control of your orgasms will make you a bit hesitant in that regard.

And the lack of explicit teasing was about to change, in any case.

When the movie ended, Selena patted me on the head, and I sat up. She looked at me with a somewhat devious smile, patted both of her bare knees thoughtfully, and said, "I have an idea."

Just the way she said it made my heart beat faster. "I like it already."

She laughed. "Don't be too quick to say so. It will be a test your self-control."

That was all it took to make me excited. I found myself biting my knuckle before I even knew what I was doing, and I involuntarily crossed my legs. "How...how does it work?"

Selena just looked at me for a few seconds. Then she said, "Remember those handcuffs I showed you? The ones from my purse?"

(I forgot to mention- for a very brief moment earlier that night, after we'd met outside "our" cafe, in a moment that could arguably be considered an instance of teasing, she had intentionally (?) allowed me to see a pair of padded handcuffs inside her purse. The effect on me had been as I think she'd intended.)

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Yes who, Matt?"

"Yes, Miss Selena." The last few hours, which had seemed almost like a normal date, faded away instantly.

"Good boy." By this point she was up at her dresser, reaching for her purse. I heard the faint sound of metal. Then she approached me grinning, with her hands hidden behind her back. I swallowed again, and looked up at her with what I hoped were the most persuasive puppy-dog eyes I could muster. Quickly, in one fluid motion, she was sitting on top of me, straddling me on the couch. Her black skirt extended over only the uppermost parts of her legs now (not to mention my lap), its hem tickling me, and her sweatered upper body resting a few inches away from mine. It was quite a modest, purple, hanging-out-around-the-house sweater (the same color she'd painted her fingernails and toenails), but I could still vaguely make out the shape of her breasts beneath. Not that I stared. Or I tried not to, anyway. Attentive readers will recall that I had not yet seen her breasts, not once, and it seemed to me that there was at least an additional t-shirt and bra between me and them. Her hands were still hidden behind her back.

She smiled at me playfully, and when she spoke it was closer to a whisper. "Here's how this is going to work. I'm going to give you three chances to be handcuffed." She tapped me on the nose once, gently, and then continued, her lips a few inches from mine. "The catch is, Matt, I know you find the idea exciting. So you need to be a good boy and control yourself while I do it."

I moaned out loud. "You mean..."

She nodded. "I think you've guessed it, Matt." Her tone was suddenly a little sharper, a little more authoritative. Not angry by any stretch, but letting me know that this wasn't a debate. "No erections."

Pressing her hands against the couch behind me and disentangling our bodies, she added, happily, "And you've just lost round one!"

I groaned perhaps louder than I had since I'd met her. "But Se- I mean, Miss Selena, that's not FAIR..."

She giggled happily, practically skipping over to her chair, clearly delighted at having set the rules so clearly in her favor. "No, I guess it isn't", she chirped. "I'll give you five minutes", she added, picking up her book.

I took a deep breath and tried surfing the channels on her TV. I avoided the channels that I knew showed movies, because you never knew what kind of scene might be playing. Instead I found myself flipping through sports channels, and settled on a baseball game. The moribund Chicago White Sox, currently on a 9-game losing streak, were playing The Baltimore Orioles. Sweaty men with mustaches running around a diamond- quite possibly the least sexual thing I could ever hope to see, at least as far as I was concerned. Perfect. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the game as much as possible. All the while, Selena hummed quietly and contentedly while reading, as if she held all the cards. Even in that moment I think I knew that she did. What's more, I liked it.

All too soon, Selena stood up. "That's five minutes. Ready to try again?"

I was as ready as I'd ever be. "Um...just out of curiosity, Miss Selena", I asked as she approached me with her hands behind her back again, "what will we do once I'm...you know...cuffed?"

She looked amused. "Do you really want me to answer that", she said, biting her lip, "when your mission...your goal...your assignment, my good boy...is to stay soft?"

I swallowed hard and willed myself to relax. "Good point. Thanks, Miss Selena." Simply calling her that excited me, which didn't seem entirely fair either, but I didn't raise the point.

"Of course", she said, quickly straddling me again. Her voice had returned to a whisper. "I want you to have a fighting chance."

After a week of wanting to cum more badly than I ever had before in my life, I was painfully aware of her skirt riding up her legs, her panties resting against the front of my jeans. My penis was aware of it, too. It felt like heaven- or at least like I was at the gates of heaven. This was the definition of unfair. I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to stop my legs from trembling. Her hands were still behind her back.

She looked me in the eyes. Moved forward. Planted a soft kiss on my lips. Let it linger for a second. Two.

...And stood up laughing, smoothing her skirt over her legs. I stifled a sob, pressing my hand to my face and letting myself collapse on my side, groaning and shuddering.

Selena laughed gleefully, triumphantly, and practically hopped back to her chair and her book.

When she'd sat down once again, legs crossed, she smiled fondly at me. "Now, you had a question?"

I managed to compose myself, mentally calculating that I was probably already down to four minutes left, and I would need to turn back to the baseball game ASAP. "I was just wondering...Miss Selena...what we were going to do after you...you know, after you cuff me?"

Still smiling, she said, "Well, at the moment, I would say the answer to that is unlikely to be relevant. You're at two strikes after all, Matt. Since you're watching baseball. I'm tempted to say it's not the kind of thing that a submissive boy like you really needs to worry about, but...oh..."

She paused, twirling her hair around one finger and letting her top leg swing gently, hypnotically, from right to left. Her toenails were still painted violet and her legs were bare, but something about the combination of shadows and light almost made it look like she was wearing a pair of sheer stockings. Or maybe that just tells you something about the imagination of a subjugated male.

"Oh...let's just say..." She fixed her eyes on me. "Nothing you won't like. Possibly something super sexy, to be played out on my bed over there." She nodded in that direction, and my eyes momentarily followed her gaze. Her voice became quiet, distant, almost as if she were fantasizing herself. Her swinging leg continued to have an almost hypnotic effect on me. "You might even get to see what I'm wearing under this sweater. I actually really like the bra I wore today. Without wanting to flatter myself, I think it's quite becoming. Violet, lace. Victoria's Secret, are you familiar with that brand?" She asked this while turning back to her book and appearing to scrutinize a passage.

I'd looked back towards the television, which was unfortunately on a commercial. I tried to keep the anguish out of my voice, but it was impossible. My erection felt like it was about to burst through my jeans. "I've...I've heard tell", I managed in a trembling voice.

"It would almost be a shame if you didn't get to see it", she continued dreamily, almost to herself, still reading, one long leg swinging happily from side to side.

She looked up from the book. "Or maybe, if you're very good, I'll give you another blowjob. Maybe I'll let you choose between that and seeing under my sweater."

My voice trembled along with my body at the thought of another blowjob. "One where I...where I get to...orgasm?"

She held my gaze for a second before bursting into giggles that almost caused her to drop her book. Then she shook her head slowly, cupping her face and smiling at me. "Of course not, silly."

All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and push my head back against the couch, my hips rising up and humping the air. In body, mind and spirit, I wanted another blowjob from heaven/hell. Needed it. "Please, Miss Selena", I whispered plangently.

"Oh well. You probably want to think about something other than my bra. Three minutes left, by the way."

They were somehow both incredibly slow and incredibly long. The game returned, and I couldn't follow anything that was happening. Nevertheless, the familiar rhythms of sport brought me back from the world of erotic longing ever so briefly...until I heard Selena say, "Time's up."

I heard the clink of the chain as she stood up, and she approached me one last time with her hands behind her back. I tried thinking about the Orioles and the White Sox, mountains and deserts. Walking through a dry desert, sex the last thing on my mind.

One last time, she straddled me. I felt the weight of her body against mine, her breasts against my chest, and she kissed me softly again. But this time I was ready for it, had already catalogued it as one of the challenges I'd have to face. My legs were shaking slightly, but I told my body that there was nothing to get overly excited about. The kiss was old news.

She pulled back from the kiss and I was aware of metal and leather resting against my left thigh- the cuffs- as she took each one of my hands in hers, interlocking our fingers and guiding my wrists behind my back, her breasts again pressing against mine as she did so. My mouth was on her shoulder in this position, and I kissed it through the sweater very gently and worshipfully, hoping that wasn't against the rules. I could smell her perfume. I was getting lost in her beauty, but the simple act of kissing also seemed like a way to divert some of my body's energy and excitement.

I felt her reach for the cuffs, and then a padded cuff began to wrap around one of my wrists. I was practically holding my breath. "I'm impressed, Matt", she whispered. "It looks like you're going to get to see what's underneath my sweater after all. What's underneath my skirt. Or at least have the choice to. Are you ready to be my prisoner?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. My whole body was shaking. Just a few more seconds, I thought.

She giggled lightly in my ear. "But a blowjob where you get to finish at the end." Slight "tsk-tsk-tsk" as she shook her head. "The very idea. You know that's not for you. Not anymore."

I groaned with superhuman effort as she shifted on top of me and I noticed her skirt ride up one of her legs, the warmth of her thigh pressing close to my groin. Not anymore? I tried to shrug off the implications. Especially because there was some small non-rational part of me that was turned on by the implications. All that mattered in this moment was staying soft. All that mattered was that, in a matter of moments, I was going to really see Selena's beautiful, amazing body. The night was going to be an odyssey of teasing beyond my wildest imagination, an odyssey that would make this seem like foreplay.

She moved to my right side, taking the wrist that was still free in hand. In this position, she was leaning to my side. I felt the cuff beginning to encircle my right wrist, and as it did so, she whispered in my ear: "Click."

...

...And threw back her head, giggling, disengaging from me at the same time.

I fell over to my side again, groaning and trying not to sob, pounding the couch once- twice- in futility. I felt my erection pressing helplessly against the cushions from inside my jeans. "I was SO close..."

From her reading chair, she smiled fondly at me, shaking her head. "SO close..."

I closed my eyes, with my now full-fledged erection pressing maddeningly hard into her couch, and remembered that, even if I were at home by myself, there'd be nothing that I could do about it. I tried to imagine the purple lace Victoria's Secret bra that I wasn't going to get to see, but somehow I couldn't conjure up even an image in my mind's eye. It was almost as if my unconscious mind had decided to show obedience towards Selena, as well. I could almost imagine her in my head, reminding me that boys who can't control their erections don't get to fantasize.

Raising my left hand, still cuffed, I said, "Miss Selena, you uh...left this attached to my wrist."

She shrugged, opening up her book again. "I think we can keep it like that for a little while. It looks good on you, Matt. And it's not like it's so different from what we were going to do, anyway. The only real difference is you're not cuffed to my bed, and I'm not straddling you in my lingerie. Not removing my bra while you watch, letting you see me in stockings, that sort of thing. But maybe you'll show better self-control next time! And"- she clapped her hands together as if just struck by the idea- "tonight, we could still watch another movie, if you want. Maybe play chess, or monopoly?"

Over the course of the following week, the blowjob from hell- or maybe it had been the blowjob from heaven, I was having a hard time deciding- continued to do a sweet mindfucking number on me. I couldn't stop thinking about Selena and what she'd done to me- both the blowjob and the spell itself, which had effectively rendered me chaste- except strangely, in a pattern I was beginning to recognize, during the time she and I talked during the week.

Let me explain.

First of all, it's not that we saw each other that week- we both had work, and other responsibilities- but it seemed even to me that it was a good thing for us not to see each other for a few days, anyway. It built anticipation for what was to come (or not come, as seemed to be my predicament), for one thing, but Selena also- future events would emphasize this to me- seemed to have a good sense of rhythm and pacing, just like a writer or a musician. She understood what she'd put me through, she understood the thoughts that were bouncing around in my mind, and I don't think she wanted to overload me. She also understood that the blowjob from heaven/hell had been something of a small masterpiece of torment, and she wanted to let its effects on me linger.

When I say, then, that our conversations were the only times during the week that my fevered brain settled down a bit, it's because our conversations were not the all-out tease-a-thons that you might expect- not that week, anyway- but fairly normal conversations about movies, music, books, work, what we'd studied in college- all of the cautious avenues through which we open ourselves and our worldviews to others. Through it all, I kept in mind that I was talking to someone who'd obviously been drawn to magic at some point in her life, drawn so intently that she'd become quite powerful, more powerful than just about anyone I could think of aside from Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And Willow wasn't real. Though she was cute. Almost as cute as Selena.

We talked about people we knew, like Emily, whose party we'd met at. The funny thing was that I almost hadn't gone that night. I used to be much closer friends with Emily, and had been a little surprised that she'd even texted me about the party that evening. Not that we'd fallen out or anything like that, just grown apart since we'd met about ten years earlier in college. We'd hooked up once or twice back then, but there were no hard feelings- or at least I didn't think there were. We'd stayed in touch over the years, but mostly through text. A tall, attractive girl with long brown hair and long legs, I had actually had a notion that maybe something could be rekindled between me and Emily...until I'd run into Selena, at any rate.

During my few moments of lucid thought that week, reflecting back on meeting Selena at that party, I realized that there was something nagging at me about the whole encounter. It was at the very edge of my consciousness, but I couldn't quite put it into words.

Still, as I suggested above, as much as talking with Selena naturally brought all my feelings of yearning and desire for her back to the surface, it also muted them somewhat, made them bearable...because I was with her (at least over the phone), she was interested in what I had to say, I was going to get to see her again. The only price I had to pay for all that was not being able to orgasm. And what did that really matter?

The night before I'd met her, I think I would've said that it mattered a great deal. But suddenly, curiously, it didn't seem to.

And besides, she would let me have an orgasm eventually.

Wouldn't she?

I made a point to bring that up with her. Yes- in a reasonable, businesslike manner, I would tell her that I loved the game we were playing, but that I hoped she did intend to let me orgasm at some point. That was only reasonable, wasn't it?

Yes- I'd bring it up just like that. That weekend, I promised myself.

The only real teasing I was subjected to before the weekend came towards the end of our call on Tuesday night, when I couldn't help it- she mentioned something that had happened to her at lunch that day, and I told her that earlier I'd taken an apple from the fridge to work, and that innocent piece of fruit had brought all the memories of the past weekend flooding back, which was true.

She laughed quietly at that. I wasn't sure where she was in her apartment, but something about her laughter (or maybe it was just my imagination) made me imagine that she was reclining on the same couch I'd been sitting on when she'd given me the blowjob from heaven/hell.

"You know, Matt", she said quietly, "'apple' actually is an important word for you. Just not quite in the way I said."

"What do you mean, Sel...uh, Miss Selena?"

I thought I could sense her smiling on the other end. Throughout our conversation that night, I'd actually simply been calling her Selena. But something had shifted in just a few moments, and now "Miss" seemed more appropriate.

"Well. It's your safeword."

"You mean...?"

"Mm-hmm. If there's something you're uncomfortable with, or even if you want to stop. Just say the word 'apple', and we can press pause. And discuss."

"That makes me feel a lot better, actually. I'll remember, Miss Selena. But I can't imagine wanting to stop right now."

That made her laugh. I told her that I had tried again a few times since I'd last seen her- tried to have an orgasm, that is- which was also true, and she laughed some more.

"I...I don't know if that's against the rules, or..."

"It's not", she replied, finally stifling her giggles. "It's okay, Matt. I don't mind you touching yourself. Why should I, now that we both know the outcome of that action is predetermined?"

"More frustration", I groaned, feeling myself press against the inside of my pants. I was beginning to associate that feeling- getting hard- with frustration and futility. Before I'd met Selena, it had often been a precursor to pleasure.

"Smart boy", she whispered. Her voice and her breathing seemed to have changed slightly, and now I imagined her lying back langorously on that couch, or maybe curled up like a sexy cat with violet-colored nails.

"I like that you tried, actually", she whispered. "Tell me more about it, Matt. What were you thinking about? How hard did you try? Maybe you just didn't want it enough?"

I attempted to answer, but all I seemed capable of was a moan of frustration. I was pretty sure I knew what she was doing on the other end of the line.

She giggled, prompting more whimpers from me. Just like that, with a snap of her fingers, she'd taken me from 0 to 60.

"Please let me cum, Selena", I whispered. Suddenly I felt that I'd never wanted to so badly in my life.

"Try again for me, Matt", she whispered as she continued to touch herself on the other end.

I did.

Friday night. To my surprise- to both my relief and quiet disappointment- the prevailing dynamic of the previous week (excepting Tuesday night's torture session, during which Selena had brought herself to orgasm over the phone) had carried over. The evening hadn't featured any elaborate or diabolical games of teasing. Selena hadn't opened the door in full leather-clad dominatrix garb, but rather in a cozy-looking sweater and a knee-length black cotton skirt. We'd more or less just had dinner at her place, and now we were watching a movie on the couch, my head resting on her lap while she reached down to rub my head and run her fingers through my hair from time to time. I wouldn't say that resting my head so close to her bare legs was helping me to think NON-sexual thoughts, exactly- okay, not even close- but nor was it cruel teasing. By the same token, the way I was lying could have been construed as submissive, but she didn't say or do anything throughout the course of the movie to make that explicit. I was fully dressed, by the way, black jeans and a t-shirt.

Maybe, I considered, that's because she didn't feel the need to make it explicit. I felt it deeply, and I think she did, too. Even without any teasing (unless you considered the absence of teasing a tease in itself), I felt like a nervous, tongue-tied teenager around her- wondering if we would make out later, but not quite daring to make the first move. I replayed moments in my mind of reaching out and touching a shoulder or a cheek, making eye contact, slowly moving in for a kiss. Terrifying at 16, but it got easier the more you practiced.

But now it was terrifying again. Believe me, a beautiful woman having complete control of your orgasms will make you a bit hesitant in that regard.

And the lack of explicit teasing was about to change, in any case.

When the movie ended, Selena patted me on the head, and I sat up. She looked at me with a somewhat devious smile, patted both of her bare knees thoughtfully, and said, "I have an idea."

Just the way she said it made my heart beat faster. "I like it already."

She laughed. "Don't be too quick to say so. It will be a test your self-control."

That was all it took to make me excited. I found myself biting my knuckle before I even knew what I was doing, and I involuntarily crossed my legs. "How...how does it work?"

Selena just looked at me for a few seconds. Then she said, "Remember those handcuffs I showed you? The ones from my purse?"

(I forgot to mention- for a very brief moment earlier that night, after we'd met outside "our" cafe, in a moment that could arguably be considered an instance of teasing, she had intentionally (?) allowed me to see a pair of padded handcuffs inside her purse. The effect on me had been as I think she'd intended.)

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Yes who, Matt?"

"Yes, Miss Selena." The last few hours, which had seemed almost like a normal date, faded away instantly.

"Good boy." By this point she was up at her dresser, reaching for her purse. I heard the faint sound of metal. Then she approached me grinning, with her hands hidden behind her back. I swallowed again, and looked up at her with what I hoped were the most persuasive puppy-dog eyes I could muster. Quickly, in one fluid motion, she was sitting on top of me, straddling me on the couch. Her black skirt extended over only the uppermost parts of her legs now (not to mention my lap), its hem tickling me, and her sweatered upper body resting a few inches away from mine. It was quite a modest, purple, hanging-out-around-the-house sweater (the same color she'd painted her fingernails and toenails), but I could still vaguely make out the shape of her breasts beneath. Not that I stared. Or I tried not to, anyway. Attentive readers will recall that I had not yet seen her breasts, not once, and it seemed to me that there was at least an additional t-shirt and bra between me and them. Her hands were still hidden behind her back.

She smiled at me playfully, and when she spoke it was closer to a whisper. "Here's how this is going to work. I'm going to give you three chances to be handcuffed." She tapped me on the nose once, gently, and then continued, her lips a few inches from mine. "The catch is, Matt, I know you find the idea exciting. So you need to be a good boy and control yourself while I do it."

I moaned out loud. "You mean..."

She nodded. "I think you've guessed it, Matt." Her tone was suddenly a little sharper, a little more authoritative. Not angry by any stretch, but letting me know that this wasn't a debate. "No erections."

Pressing her hands against the couch behind me and disentangling our bodies, she added, happily, "And you've just lost round one!"

I groaned perhaps louder than I had since I'd met her. "But Se- I mean, Miss Selena, that's not FAIR..."

She giggled happily, practically skipping over to her chair, clearly delighted at having set the rules so clearly in her favor. "No, I guess it isn't", she chirped. "I'll give you five minutes", she added, picking up her book.

I took a deep breath and tried surfing the channels on her TV. I avoided the channels that I knew showed movies, because you never knew what kind of scene might be playing. Instead I found myself flipping through sports channels, and settled on a baseball game. The moribund Chicago White Sox, currently on a 9-game losing streak, were playing The Baltimore Orioles. Sweaty men with mustaches running around a diamond- quite possibly the least sexual thing I could ever hope to see, at least as far as I was concerned. Perfect. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the game as much as possible. All the while, Selena hummed quietly and contentedly while reading, as if she held all the cards. Even in that moment I think I knew that she did. What's more, I liked it.

All too soon, Selena stood up. "That's five minutes. Ready to try again?"

I was as ready as I'd ever be. "Um...just out of curiosity, Miss Selena", I asked as she approached me with her hands behind her back again, "what will we do once I'm...you know...cuffed?"

She looked amused. "Do you really want me to answer that", she said, biting her lip, "when your mission...your goal...your assignment, my good boy...is to stay soft?"

I swallowed hard and willed myself to relax. "Good point. Thanks, Miss Selena." Simply calling her that excited me, which didn't seem entirely fair either, but I didn't raise the point.

"Of course", she said, quickly straddling me again. Her voice had returned to a whisper. "I want you to have a fighting chance."

After a week of wanting to cum more badly than I ever had before in my life, I was painfully aware of her skirt riding up her legs, her panties resting against the front of my jeans. My penis was aware of it, too. It felt like heaven- or at least like I was at the gates of heaven. This was the definition of unfair. I took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to stop my legs from trembling. Her hands were still behind her back.

She looked me in the eyes. Moved forward. Planted a soft kiss on my lips. Let it linger for a second. Two.

...And stood up laughing, smoothing her skirt over her legs. I stifled a sob, pressing my hand to my face and letting myself collapse on my side, groaning and shuddering.

Selena laughed gleefully, triumphantly, and practically hopped back to her chair and her book.

When she'd sat down once again, legs crossed, she smiled fondly at me. "Now, you had a question?"

I managed to compose myself, mentally calculating that I was probably already down to four minutes left, and I would need to turn back to the baseball game ASAP. "I was just wondering...Miss Selena...what we were going to do after you...you know, after you cuff me?"

Still smiling, she said, "Well, at the moment, I would say the answer to that is unlikely to be relevant. You're at two strikes after all, Matt. Since you're watching baseball. I'm tempted to say it's not the kind of thing that a submissive boy like you really needs to worry about, but...oh..."

She paused, twirling her hair around one finger and letting her top leg swing gently, hypnotically, from right to left. Her toenails were still painted violet and her legs were bare, but something about the combination of shadows and light almost made it look like she was wearing a pair of sheer stockings. Or maybe that just tells you something about the imagination of a subjugated male.

"Oh...let's just say..." She fixed her eyes on me. "Nothing you won't like. Possibly something super sexy, to be played out on my bed over there." She nodded in that direction, and my eyes momentarily followed her gaze. Her voice became quiet, distant, almost as if she were fantasizing herself. Her swinging leg continued to have an almost hypnotic effect on me. "You might even get to see what I'm wearing under this sweater. I actually really like the bra I wore today. Without wanting to flatter myself, I think it's quite becoming. Violet, lace. Victoria's Secret, are you familiar with that brand?" She asked this while turning back to her book and appearing to scrutinize a passage.

I'd looked back towards the television, which was unfortunately on a commercial. I tried to keep the anguish out of my voice, but it was impossible. My erection felt like it was about to burst through my jeans. "I've...I've heard tell", I managed in a trembling voice.

"It would almost be a shame if you didn't get to see it", she continued dreamily, almost to herself, still reading, one long leg swinging happily from side to side.

She looked up from the book. "Or maybe, if you're very good, I'll give you another blowjob. Maybe I'll let you choose between that and seeing under my sweater."

My voice trembled along with my body at the thought of another blowjob. "One where I...where I get to...orgasm?"

She held my gaze for a second before bursting into giggles that almost caused her to drop her book. Then she shook her head slowly, cupping her face and smiling at me. "Of course not, silly."

All I could do was squeeze my eyes shut and push my head back against the couch, my hips rising up and humping the air. In body, mind and spirit, I wanted another blowjob from heaven/hell. Needed it. "Please, Miss Selena", I whispered plangently.

"Oh well. You probably want to think about something other than my bra. Three minutes left, by the way."

They were somehow both incredibly slow and incredibly long. The game returned, and I couldn't follow anything that was happening. Nevertheless, the familiar rhythms of sport brought me back from the world of erotic longing ever so briefly...until I heard Selena say, "Time's up."

I heard the clink of the chain as she stood up, and she approached me one last time with her hands behind her back. I tried thinking about the Orioles and the White Sox, mountains and deserts. Walking through a dry desert, sex the last thing on my mind.

One last time, she straddled me. I felt the weight of her body against mine, her breasts against my chest, and she kissed me softly again. But this time I was ready for it, had already catalogued it as one of the challenges I'd have to face. My legs were shaking slightly, but I told my body that there was nothing to get overly excited about. The kiss was old news.

She pulled back from the kiss and I was aware of metal and leather resting against my left thigh- the cuffs- as she took each one of my hands in hers, interlocking our fingers and guiding my wrists behind my back, her breasts again pressing against mine as she did so. My mouth was on her shoulder in this position, and I kissed it through the sweater very gently and worshipfully, hoping that wasn't against the rules. I could smell her perfume. I was getting lost in her beauty, but the simple act of kissing also seemed like a way to divert some of my body's energy and excitement.

I felt her reach for the cuffs, and then a padded cuff began to wrap around one of my wrists. I was practically holding my breath. "I'm impressed, Matt", she whispered. "It looks like you're going to get to see what's underneath my sweater after all. What's underneath my skirt. Or at least have the choice to. Are you ready to be my prisoner?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath. My whole body was shaking. Just a few more seconds, I thought.

She giggled lightly in my ear. "But a blowjob where you get to finish at the end." Slight "tsk-tsk-tsk" as she shook her head. "The very idea. You know that's not for you. Not anymore."

I groaned with superhuman effort as she shifted on top of me and I noticed her skirt ride up one of her legs, the warmth of her thigh pressing close to my groin. Not anymore? I tried to shrug off the implications. Especially because there was some small non-rational part of me that was turned on by the implications. All that mattered in this moment was staying soft. All that mattered was that, in a matter of moments, I was going to really see Selena's beautiful, amazing body. The night was going to be an odyssey of teasing beyond my wildest imagination, an odyssey that would make this seem like foreplay.

She moved to my right side, taking the wrist that was still free in hand. In this position, she was leaning to my side. I felt the cuff beginning to encircle my right wrist, and as it did so, she whispered in my ear: "Click."

...

...And threw back her head, giggling, disengaging from me at the same time.

I fell over to my side again, groaning and trying not to sob, pounding the couch once- twice- in futility. I felt my erection pressing helplessly against the cushions from inside my jeans. "I was SO close..."

From her reading chair, she smiled fondly at me, shaking her head. "SO close..."

I closed my eyes, with my now full-fledged erection pressing maddeningly hard into her couch, and remembered that, even if I were at home by myself, there'd be nothing that I could do about it. I tried to imagine the purple lace Victoria's Secret bra that I wasn't going to get to see, but somehow I couldn't conjure up even an image in my mind's eye. It was almost as if my unconscious mind had decided to show obedience towards Selena, as well. I could almost imagine her in my head, reminding me that boys who can't control their erections don't get to fantasize.

Raising my left hand, still cuffed, I said, "Miss Selena, you uh...left this attached to my wrist."

She shrugged, opening up her book again. "I think we can keep it like that for a little while. It looks good on you, Matt. And it's not like it's so different from what we were going to do, anyway. The only real difference is you're not cuffed to my bed, and I'm not straddling you in my lingerie. Not removing my bra while you watch, letting you see me in stockings, that sort of thing. But maybe you'll show better self-control next time! And"- she clapped her hands together as if just struck by the idea- "tonight, we could still watch another movie, if you want. Maybe play chess, or monopoly?"

I was sitting back on Selena's couch while she, from a kneeling position, began to unbuckle my belt.

"You still look a little surprised, Matt", she said. I leaned forward so she could remove my belt, which she then tossed to the side, and tried to organize my racing thoughts. I'd gone from being very confused (not to mention hornier than I'd ever been in my life), to reluctantly accepting the reality of magic and of having been placed under a spell I both loved and hated, to being offered some much-needed relief in a form I'd scarcely dared to hope for an hour previous. How had it happened?

Let's back up.

I'd experienced a wave of panic earlier, as we'd gotten ready to leave the cafe. Yes, a part of me liked what she'd done (even if, as I still couldn't help thinking, it must have been more some kind of hypnosis than actual magic). Yes, it was exciting (I was stammering some of this aloud to her as we walked, trying to keep my voice low). "But Selena", I continued as we walked out the door together (in a tone that sounded more pleading than I'd intended), "I mean...Miss...(she smiled as I corrected myself)...it can be reversed, can't it? The spell?"

Selena turned to me and stroked my cheek again, briefly. "Of course, Matthew. You don't mind if I call you Matthew?"

"Of course not", I murmured. My own voice sounded far away to me. I couldn't help looking into her eyes and feeling dizzy. It seemed almost superfluous that she'd bothered with actual hypnosis, or magic, or whatever the explanation was.

"I can reverse it anytime I like. All I have to do is say the word of a round, red fruit."

"Um. You mean, 'apple?'"

She nodded, then broke into a grin. "But don't worry. It's my least favorite fruit! I almost never have cause to say it!"

And with that she walked off, practically skipping.

The rest of the afternoon at work went by in a blur of fantasies and longing. All I could think about was seeing Selena again that evening. I made a quick stop at home after the day was mercifully finished to shower, shave, and again try on about five different shirts, none of them seeming quite right. Was it a casual evening, formal, or something in-between? And what effect did I actually want my appearance to have on her, come to think of it? Did I want to show that I respected her enough to dress nicely, and thus increase my chances of getting in her good graces and having her reverse the spell?

Or...did I want to make her pleased that she'd chosen me?

I finally settled on a light blue collared shirt and a pair of black jeans that could almost pass for dress pants, and swung by a local Chinese place to get take-out before heading over to Selena's.

When she answered the door, I almost dropped the food. Her shoulder-length dark hair was down, and she was wearing a white buttoned shirt (the kind that I sometimes wore to work myself) with the first couple of buttons open. It was nothing salacious or even inappropriate for going out; but in my desperate state, my imagination immediately started racing. In addition, she had on a black pleated skirt that seemed (at least in my febrile male psyche) to complete the outfit of the archetypical sexy secretary (I still had no idea what she did for a living); again, entirely appropriate for a day at work or out on the town, but the way it showed off her long bare legs made me feel slightly faint. She was barefoot, also. Her toenails were the same violet as her fingernails.

Smiling, she greeted me, and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek that nevertheless sent a futile wave of desire through me. "It smells delicious!"

As had happened earlier in the day, something strange happened when we sat down to eat. Being close to her of course intensified all my desires...but it also assuaged them in a way, and I found myself reasonably capable of talking about all kinds of topics with her. Food, music, movies. Not only was I capable of it, but it was gratifying to be discovering that I found her just as bewitching as a person as I found her physically. I felt briefly like I'd have been happy to talk with her for hours, the predicament she'd put me in an incidental detail of our new courtship that wasn't urgent in the slightest.

I felt that way, at any rate, until we'd both finished our meals (I had shrimp with garlic sauce; she had lo mein) and were sitting at the table with a couple of glasses of wine, and I felt her bare foot begin to nudge against mine, before gradually working its way up my leg.

I made a groaning noise and, in a rather undignified way, hit my forehead gently, a few times, against the table. Immediately hard, I felt my toes contract, and my body started to tremble with desire.

I looked up to find her smiling, as her foot worked its way into my lap. Her toes tapped me lightly- once, twice before moving a few inches away and resting along my inner thigh. "Are you okay, Matt?" She asked. "I don't want you to give yourself a concussion like that. You're not tired, are you? I understand if you want to go after your busy day. We can always continue this another evening."

"No no no no no no no", I stammered, looking up with a panicked expression, which prompted a peal of laughter from her. "I just..." I very softly pounded the table with a closed fist.

"Just what?" She asked softly, her foot rubbing back and forth along my inner thigh, ever so slowly. Barely moving, in fact. Barely touching.

"I'm just..." My voice almost broke. I took a sip of red wine to steady myself. "I guess I'm not used to not being able to orgasm."

"We'll fix that", she promised quietly, and I groaned again. "Want to watch a movie?"

...In retrospect, I can't even remember how I got her to say the word "apple." Nor do I remember consciously making the attempt to trick her into it, but I suppose I must have. All I know is that it happened while we were talking towards the end of a movie that I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on- and it was nothing too nefarious on my part, I don't think. I'd only somehow made a comparison with another movie I'd seen recently that had prompted her to respond with the phrase, "Apples and oranges."

What I remember most vividly, however, is that the disappointment on her face after she realized what she'd said (or the apparent disappointment at any rate- perhaps I should've been more suspicious) mirrored the disappointment that I- against all logic- suddenly felt as well.

Then she shrugged, said that it would take at least 24 hours to revise the spell, and suggested that she might as well give me a blowjob on the couch. "I can be a good sport too", she said.

I was still a little dazed by the sudden turn of events, and even as I mentioned vaguely disappointed, but the disappointment was overridden by a very real and desperate need to cum.

Selena, as mentioned above, said that I seemed surprised.

"Well I...I just didn't expect..."

She paused, having unbuttoned my khakis, and looked up at me, letting her hands rest on my hips. "You didn't expect, Matt, that a dominant woman would be giving you a blowjob?"

"No, I...I guess not."

"So you think there's something submissive in the act of giving a blowjob?" She was watching me intently, big brown eyes focused on mine. I was thinking that maybe we could wait until afterwards to analyze it, but an answer was clearly expected of me- even though I could barely think!

"I...I guess I've always associated it more with submissiveness than dominance", I allowed. "But I don't think you're being submissive right now, Miss Selena."

She smiled faintly and exhaled at my fly. Warm breath. "How perceptive of you", she said quietly. Then she unzipped my pants slowly. "You've got a bit of an erection right now, so we've got to be careful. Wouldn't want you getting an injury."

I grimaced as the zipper passed a few inches from the aforementioned erection. "I appreciate that."

"I think we do have to concede one thing", she continued, as I leaned forward to help her slide my pants down from my waist. "Namely that boys magically consigned to the torment of orgasm denial don't typically receive blowjobs from their new Mistresses unless they've been very...very good."

It was the kind of formulation that reawakened my awful suspicion- horrible, really- that this was all some kind of trick. The thought however vanished like lightning- and after all, she had said "apple."

"Then again", she continued as she tossed my pants in the same direction she'd tossed my belt, "you've been a good sport and maybe you do deserve a reward." She looked up at me sternly. "Just don't get used to it."

"I won't...I promise", I said weakly, taking a deep breath as she reached for the button of my boxers- black today, I had the suspicion that she would at least be seeing them tonight (even if I hadn't dared to hope it would be in the context of a blowjob), and I thought they were a good-looking pair as far as boxers went- and let my erection slide through. She'd only been teasing me for about 24 hours, if you counted the party, but I happened not to have masturbated all week (it was Saturday now), and with the addition of her teasing, it felt like it had been forever.

"Such a desperate cock", she murmured, blowing on it softly and then extending her tongue, slowly taking me into her mouth. All thought ceased, and I closed my eyes, leaning back on the couch. It was happening!

"Hey!" I snapped open my eyes, and she was smiling up at me, having paused her ministrations. "You know what I just realized? That whole first part of the movie, that was all the sister's dream, wasn't it?"

I tried to focus. Had we watched a movie? "I think so. I think that explains a lot of things- the strange way the characters talk, that creature behind the Diner. I'm sure we'd pick up a lot of details if we watched it again."

"Yes, I think so. Smart boy, Matt. Very attentive."

"I...I try", I smiled weakly.

"Do you want to watch it again now?" I felt her move away and it looked like she was about to stand up. The movie had been over 2 hours long. "I have it rented for 48 hours!"

"No no no no no please please please Miss Selena", I heard myself saying. "Maybe...maybe after...?"

She giggled and moved closer again, smiling sweetly at me and rolling her eyes, shaking her head. "Yes, yes yes...I forgot, the all-important male orgasm. Back to my duties. Very well..."

Her mouth closed around me again. Every part of my body (well, every part except one) once again went weak, and I let myself lean back against the couch, eyes closed.

"But then why does she still have the money from the dream in the last act? If the first act was all a dream, I mean?"

I couldn't help groaning the moment I'd felt her pull away again- how long had it been this time, maybe five seconds?- and looked down into her smiling face again. She was enjoying this. It was clear that giving my thoughts on the plot wasn't optional. I felt my voice breaking a little as I said, "I think..." What did I think? "I think...the money was in the dream because it was real, you know? But it was on her mind, so she was dreaming about it."

She appeared to consider this, and for a dreadful moment I had the feeling that the continuation of the blowjob depended on whether she agreed with me. But she suddenly nodded with conviction (an incredibly cute gesture, somehow). "That sounds logical to me." I sighed with relief.

"Warm in here", she added. Still smiling, she sat up and reached downwards, beginning to unbutton her white shirt. One extra button...two...I got the slightest glimpse of purple lace before she paused, and stood. Gesturing with her finger, she said, "Wait a second. I almost forgot."

I knew it was unbecoming of a submissive male- or any male, really, in my humble opinion- to display impatience as the recipient of such a generous act, and I knew it was part of the tease, but I couldn't help the fact that, as she stood up, a couple of incoherently desperate sounds emanated from the back of my throat. My eyes followed her lovely form- white shirt over what I now knew to be purple lace (she was still going to take it off, wasn't she?), and a black pleated skirt that in my fevered imagination now also covered...well, who knew? I'd begun to associate her with the color purple, and all its minute variations.

"Don't worry Matt", she said as she circled behind me, "this will just take a second, and then I'll take off my shirt." I heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and she laughed. "I did tell you that I'm a mind-reader too, didn't I?"

I chuckled, leaning back and feeling her hand run through my hair. "Guilty as charged", I said.

"I'm shocked", she whispered next to my ear, and as she did, she wrapped a black blindfold around my eyes. It happened so quickly, and she secured it so firmly, that it took me a couple of seconds to register what had happened. I opened my eyes underneath- it was comfortable enough, but I couldn't see anything at all.

"That's better", I heard her say as her voice circled back around to the front of the couch. I felt her hands on my knees again, my hips, brushing over my erection. It made me groan, and the movements of her body between my legs told me that now she was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. A few seconds later, I heard it drop to the floor. "This isn't a fashion show, you know."

I groaned again, a little louder this time, and she giggled. "I promised you a blowjob, Matt. I didn't say you got to ogle me at the same time."

"That's...that's totally understandable, Miss Selena", I managed, squirming in my seat.

She laughed triumphantly. "Good boy."

All thought once again ceased as I felt her take me into her mouth again- my head lolling back, the strength going from my legs, the disappointment of not being allowed to see her. "Oh God", I whispered, and, not wanting to give her any ideas, only thought: please don't stop. And, to my surprise, she didn't- at least for a little while. She did go slow, of course, little licks and swirls of her tongue leading up to a point where she once again took me into her mouth. My breathing had changed, and I was just beginning to really enjoy myself, when she stopped again and I felt my erection flop down into empty air. I heard myself moan and bit my knuckle, my toes contracting. "M...Miss Selena, what...?"

I couldn't see her, but I knew she was smiling as she leaned forward and looked up at me. I could feel her breasts pressing against my inner thighs. "Come on, Matt. We already agreed that you'll probably look back on this as being a pretty special privilege, didn't we? You have to let me tease you a little."

A quick kiss right on my tip provoked more like a cry of despair than a moan, and I found myself almost spasming in my seat, my legs trembling uncontrollably. This in turn provoked more laughter from Selena, who put her hands on my knees as she stood up. "Actually, hold on. Be right back." I could sense her pause as she looked down at me, and she then added, barely able to keep the giggle out of her voice, "Don't go anywhere."

I heard her circle around behind me again, and when she returned I felt her wrap something- it felt like a long-sleeve cotton shirt- around my ankles, tying them snugly and securely to the point that my ankles were crossed. I then felt her on the couch next to me, taking my wrists and doing the same to them with what felt like another shirt. She murmured, "Just a little taste of helplessness for you, Matt", which once again made my body tremble and shake, as without even meaning to I felt myself trying to escape. But I couldn't move.

I'll introduce you to my cuffs another time", she said from between my legs. "To a deeper helplessness. If you're good."

And then, once again, all thought ceased.

Sort of.

It was more like I was flitting in and out of consciousness for what felt like the next hour. But for all I knew it was longer, or shorter than that. Selena would change speeds, start and stop abruptly (sometimes when she stopped she would say or ask me something, but sometimes just sit there, presumably watching my reactions). Once she went to get a glass of water, offering me one as well, departing from me with one quick kiss on my tip that sent me into a fit of trembling and caused her to giggle uncontrollably.

When she finally pushed me over the edge, I wasn't expecting it. She had pulled away so many times already, and she seemed to be so good (almost preternaturally?) at knowing when I was close, I expected her to stop once more. But to my surprise and incredible relief, she kept going, speeding up, and I felt myself finally racing up not just to that far away cliff on the horizon, but finally stumbling over the edge, falling, an ocean of bliss waiting for me at the bottom...and...and...

...nothing.

"...No!" I cried. "No!"

It was the point of no return, and my body spasmed as if in the throes of orgasm, but...there was no relief. No pleasure. No orgasm. I don't quite remember all the sounds that came out of my mouth, but I eventually ended up exhausted, on my side, humping the air in weaker and weaker movements. Trying to reclaim the nirvana that it had been SO sure was within reach.

Once I'd finally stopped shaking and making noises, lying there on my side, I heard her move towards me, and felt her hand undoing the blindfold.

"Peekaboo." Her eyes were shining, and she was grinning widely. Able to see again, I couldn't help noting that she was kneeling in front of me in her purple lace bra. My futile erection pressed upwards against the air, and I groaned.

She smiled even wider. "Still associate blowjobs with submissiveness, Matt?"

In spite of the fact that I nearly had tears in my eyes, I had to chuckle with appreciation at her evil genius. "Maybe...maybe with my own, Miss Selena."

She threw back her head and laughed at that. I realized that I liked making her laugh. I liked pleasing her.

"But I still don't...understand..."

She looked back down at me, eyes still shining. My own eyes wandered a bit, and I noticed her skirt was on the floor, in a pile with my pants and belt. I tried to stop myself from glancing downwards.

"Don't understand what, silly boy?"

"I just...I thought...with the word 'apple' and all..." I was still acutely aware that my wrists and ankles were tied, that I was her prisoner. She leaned forward and stroked the side of my face with the back of her hand. Purple-painted nails gently grazed the stubble on my chin.

"Matt, Matt, Matt. Such a smart boy. I think you had that movie figured out almost from the beginning. But you really thought that I would tell you how to reverse the spell?"

I stared at her, mouth agape.

"Do you want to know my theory?" Eyes fixed on mine, still stroking the side of my face gently.

I nodded. "More than anything."

"I think you knew all along that I was tricking you. But you didn't mind and even liked it. One part of you knew, anyway. The other part of you...well, you were thinking..."- her hand began to trail down my neck, to my chest- "with...your...penis", she finished, reaching the organ of which she spoke and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I almost passed out. I'd been calm for a few minutes, somehow, but now I felt myself struggling against the restraints again, fidgeting. She waited patiently for me to relax, still holding on to my erection. Like it was her possession.

Waiting me out, she proceeded once I'd calmed down. Still holding me with a firm grip down there and looking deep into my eyes, she said, "You know what it's time for now, don't you? Once I untie you?"

I wasn't sure. And was somehow afraid to make any suggestions. I shook my head.

In a gentle but authoritative tone, she said, "It's time for you to put your clothes back on and put your penis away. It's had enough excitement for one evening, don't you think?"

To my horror, I found myself nodding obediently.

"Good boy." She patted my head affectionately, and stood up, walking around the couch and leaving my erection bobbing in the air. As she did, I realized that her legs were bare except for a small pair of lace panties, purple, that matched her bra.

After she had let me loose, I stood up unsteadily. She reached out one hand to my arm to steady me, and in the process one of her breasts brushed against my shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind another movie before you go. I'm suddenly not very tired."

"That...that sounds good to me", I said, still in a daze. I stumbled over to my pants, grimacing slightly as I walked with an erection. All the while, all I could think was that I needed to cum. I needed to, I was sure of that...and yet I clearly wasn't going to.

She broke contact again and took my place on the couch, crossing one lovely leg over the other and looking up at me. I couldn't help groaning at the sight of her in such a pose, and at her knowing smile. "Are you going to be able to get those pants on, by the way?" Her tone was concerned. "I could always get an icepack from the freezer. We don't want you to get injured."

I shivered at the idea of an ice pack, and reluctantly began to slide my pants on. "I...I think I can manage, Miss Selena. I just have to be careful." It wasn't, after all, the first time I'd ever put on a pair of pants while I had an erection. It was perhaps the most frustrating, though.

I zipped myself up and buttoned my pants, all while she watched intently. "Yay." She clapped her hands briefly and sashayed with her shoulders, seemingly overcome with happiness. It was so cute it killed me. "The only thing missing is that I wish a zipper made...a louder sound, I guess. To add more of a note of finality to the proceedings, you know? To punctuate your imprisonment."

I doubled-over with the ache as a wave of arousal passed through me, holding my hands on my knees and looking up at her, chuckling despite everything. "I'm...I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Hmmm. Oh!" It seemed as though an idea had just come to her. "You've been having a lot of erections, haven't you?"

"Since we met? I...I would say so."

She seemed to lapse into thought again. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

"What do you...?"

She laughed. "Don't worry about that for now, though. Hurry up and pick a movie. Chop chop."

About an hour later, I had my arm around Selena's waist, spooning her. We were lying on the couch, in the middle of the movie, when she abruptly looked up at me. She raised her head and kissed me on the lips softly, lingering. Having managed to calm down somewhat in the interim, I felt the ache and the desperation return immediately.

Softly, she asked, "Did you enjoy your blowjob?"

Lying with her like this had almost allowed me to trick myself into thinking this was a typical dynamic, girlfriend and boyfriend rather than Mistress and submissive, but that one little question was an immediate reminder of just how much power she had over me. I had to fight to quell another round of pleading and begging, to stop myself from squirming so much that she'd be knocked off the edge of the couch (although I considered that she'd probably find that amusing).

And yet, after my immediate reaction, I found myself considering her question. And I found myself answering honestly.

"It was...it was amazing, Miss Selena."

"Good. I'm glad." She kissed me again, smiling. "It might be your last for a very, very long time."

"Y...yes, Miss."

I shivered again, and turned back to watching the movie. I had no idea what had been happening for the last few minutes- or even for the last hour, come to think of it. I hoped there wouldn't be a quiz.

I was sitting back on Selena's couch while she, from a kneeling position, began to unbuckle my belt.

"You still look a little surprised, Matt", she said. I leaned forward so she could remove my belt, which she then tossed to the side, and tried to organize my racing thoughts. I'd gone from being very confused (not to mention hornier than I'd ever been in my life), to reluctantly accepting the reality of magic and of having been placed under a spell I both loved and hated, to being offered some much-needed relief in a form I'd scarcely dared to hope for an hour previous. How had it happened?

Let's back up.

I'd experienced a wave of panic earlier, as we'd gotten ready to leave the cafe. Yes, a part of me liked what she'd done (even if, as I still couldn't help thinking, it must have been more some kind of hypnosis than actual magic). Yes, it was exciting (I was stammering some of this aloud to her as we walked, trying to keep my voice low). "But Selena", I continued as we walked out the door together (in a tone that sounded more pleading than I'd intended), "I mean...Miss...(she smiled as I corrected myself)...it can be reversed, can't it? The spell?"

Selena turned to me and stroked my cheek again, briefly. "Of course, Matthew. You don't mind if I call you Matthew?"

"Of course not", I murmured. My own voice sounded far away to me. I couldn't help looking into her eyes and feeling dizzy. It seemed almost superfluous that she'd bothered with actual hypnosis, or magic, or whatever the explanation was.

"I can reverse it anytime I like. All I have to do is say the word of a round, red fruit."

"Um. You mean, 'apple?'"

She nodded, then broke into a grin. "But don't worry. It's my least favorite fruit! I almost never have cause to say it!"

And with that she walked off, practically skipping.

The rest of the afternoon at work went by in a blur of fantasies and longing. All I could think about was seeing Selena again that evening. I made a quick stop at home after the day was mercifully finished to shower, shave, and again try on about five different shirts, none of them seeming quite right. Was it a casual evening, formal, or something in-between? And what effect did I actually want my appearance to have on her, come to think of it? Did I want to show that I respected her enough to dress nicely, and thus increase my chances of getting in her good graces and having her reverse the spell?

Or...did I want to make her pleased that she'd chosen me?

I finally settled on a light blue collared shirt and a pair of black jeans that could almost pass for dress pants, and swung by a local Chinese place to get take-out before heading over to Selena's.

When she answered the door, I almost dropped the food. Her shoulder-length dark hair was down, and she was wearing a white buttoned shirt (the kind that I sometimes wore to work myself) with the first couple of buttons open. It was nothing salacious or even inappropriate for going out; but in my desperate state, my imagination immediately started racing. In addition, she had on a black pleated skirt that seemed (at least in my febrile male psyche) to complete the outfit of the archetypical sexy secretary (I still had no idea what she did for a living); again, entirely appropriate for a day at work or out on the town, but the way it showed off her long bare legs made me feel slightly faint. She was barefoot, also. Her toenails were the same violet as her fingernails.

Smiling, she greeted me, and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek that nevertheless sent a futile wave of desire through me. "It smells delicious!"

As had happened earlier in the day, something strange happened when we sat down to eat. Being close to her of course intensified all my desires...but it also assuaged them in a way, and I found myself reasonably capable of talking about all kinds of topics with her. Food, music, movies. Not only was I capable of it, but it was gratifying to be discovering that I found her just as bewitching as a person as I found her physically. I felt briefly like I'd have been happy to talk with her for hours, the predicament she'd put me in an incidental detail of our new courtship that wasn't urgent in the slightest.

I felt that way, at any rate, until we'd both finished our meals (I had shrimp with garlic sauce; she had lo mein) and were sitting at the table with a couple of glasses of wine, and I felt her bare foot begin to nudge against mine, before gradually working its way up my leg.

I made a groaning noise and, in a rather undignified way, hit my forehead gently, a few times, against the table. Immediately hard, I felt my toes contract, and my body started to tremble with desire.

I looked up to find her smiling, as her foot worked its way into my lap. Her toes tapped me lightly- once, twice before moving a few inches away and resting along my inner thigh. "Are you okay, Matt?" She asked. "I don't want you to give yourself a concussion like that. You're not tired, are you? I understand if you want to go after your busy day. We can always continue this another evening."

"No no no no no no no", I stammered, looking up with a panicked expression, which prompted a peal of laughter from her. "I just..." I very softly pounded the table with a closed fist.

"Just what?" She asked softly, her foot rubbing back and forth along my inner thigh, ever so slowly. Barely moving, in fact. Barely touching.

"I'm just..." My voice almost broke. I took a sip of red wine to steady myself. "I guess I'm not used to not being able to orgasm."

"We'll fix that", she promised quietly, and I groaned again. "Want to watch a movie?"

...In retrospect, I can't even remember how I got her to say the word "apple." Nor do I remember consciously making the attempt to trick her into it, but I suppose I must have. All I know is that it happened while we were talking towards the end of a movie that I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on- and it was nothing too nefarious on my part, I don't think. I'd only somehow made a comparison with another movie I'd seen recently that had prompted her to respond with the phrase, "Apples and oranges."

What I remember most vividly, however, is that the disappointment on her face after she realized what she'd said (or the apparent disappointment at any rate- perhaps I should've been more suspicious) mirrored the disappointment that I- against all logic- suddenly felt as well.

Then she shrugged, said that it would take at least 24 hours to revise the spell, and suggested that she might as well give me a blowjob on the couch. "I can be a good sport too", she said.

I was still a little dazed by the sudden turn of events, and even as I mentioned vaguely disappointed, but the disappointment was overridden by a very real and desperate need to cum.

Selena, as mentioned above, said that I seemed surprised.

"Well I...I just didn't expect..."

She paused, having unbuttoned my khakis, and looked up at me, letting her hands rest on my hips. "You didn't expect, Matt, that a dominant woman would be giving you a blowjob?"

"No, I...I guess not."

"So you think there's something submissive in the act of giving a blowjob?" She was watching me intently, big brown eyes focused on mine. I was thinking that maybe we could wait until afterwards to analyze it, but an answer was clearly expected of me- even though I could barely think!

"I...I guess I've always associated it more with submissiveness than dominance", I allowed. "But I don't think you're being submissive right now, Miss Selena."

She smiled faintly and exhaled at my fly. Warm breath. "How perceptive of you", she said quietly. Then she unzipped my pants slowly. "You've got a bit of an erection right now, so we've got to be careful. Wouldn't want you getting an injury."

I grimaced as the zipper passed a few inches from the aforementioned erection. "I appreciate that."

"I think we do have to concede one thing", she continued, as I leaned forward to help her slide my pants down from my waist. "Namely that boys magically consigned to the torment of orgasm denial don't typically receive blowjobs from their new Mistresses unless they've been very...very good."

It was the kind of formulation that reawakened my awful suspicion- horrible, really- that this was all some kind of trick. The thought however vanished like lightning- and after all, she had said "apple."

"Then again", she continued as she tossed my pants in the same direction she'd tossed my belt, "you've been a good sport and maybe you do deserve a reward." She looked up at me sternly. "Just don't get used to it."

"I won't...I promise", I said weakly, taking a deep breath as she reached for the button of my boxers- black today, I had the suspicion that she would at least be seeing them tonight (even if I hadn't dared to hope it would be in the context of a blowjob), and I thought they were a good-looking pair as far as boxers went- and let my erection slide through. She'd only been teasing me for about 24 hours, if you counted the party, but I happened not to have masturbated all week (it was Saturday now), and with the addition of her teasing, it felt like it had been forever.

"Such a desperate cock", she murmured, blowing on it softly and then extending her tongue, slowly taking me into her mouth. All thought ceased, and I closed my eyes, leaning back on the couch. It was happening!

"Hey!" I snapped open my eyes, and she was smiling up at me, having paused her ministrations. "You know what I just realized? That whole first part of the movie, that was all the sister's dream, wasn't it?"

I tried to focus. Had we watched a movie? "I think so. I think that explains a lot of things- the strange way the characters talk, that creature behind the Diner. I'm sure we'd pick up a lot of details if we watched it again."

"Yes, I think so. Smart boy, Matt. Very attentive."

"I...I try", I smiled weakly.

"Do you want to watch it again now?" I felt her move away and it looked like she was about to stand up. The movie had been over 2 hours long. "I have it rented for 48 hours!"

"No no no no no please please please Miss Selena", I heard myself saying. "Maybe...maybe after...?"

She giggled and moved closer again, smiling sweetly at me and rolling her eyes, shaking her head. "Yes, yes yes...I forgot, the all-important male orgasm. Back to my duties. Very well..."

Her mouth closed around me again. Every part of my body (well, every part except one) once again went weak, and I let myself lean back against the couch, eyes closed.

"But then why does she still have the money from the dream in the last act? If the first act was all a dream, I mean?"

I couldn't help groaning the moment I'd felt her pull away again- how long had it been this time, maybe five seconds?- and looked down into her smiling face again. She was enjoying this. It was clear that giving my thoughts on the plot wasn't optional. I felt my voice breaking a little as I said, "I think..." What did I think? "I think...the money was in the dream because it was real, you know? But it was on her mind, so she was dreaming about it."

She appeared to consider this, and for a dreadful moment I had the feeling that the continuation of the blowjob depended on whether she agreed with me. But she suddenly nodded with conviction (an incredibly cute gesture, somehow). "That sounds logical to me." I sighed with relief.

"Warm in here", she added. Still smiling, she sat up and reached downwards, beginning to unbutton her white shirt. One extra button...two...I got the slightest glimpse of purple lace before she paused, and stood. Gesturing with her finger, she said, "Wait a second. I almost forgot."

I knew it was unbecoming of a submissive male- or any male, really, in my humble opinion- to display impatience as the recipient of such a generous act, and I knew it was part of the tease, but I couldn't help the fact that, as she stood up, a couple of incoherently desperate sounds emanated from the back of my throat. My eyes followed her lovely form- white shirt over what I now knew to be purple lace (she was still going to take it off, wasn't she?), and a black pleated skirt that in my fevered imagination now also covered...well, who knew? I'd begun to associate her with the color purple, and all its minute variations.

"Don't worry Matt", she said as she circled behind me, "this will just take a second, and then I'll take off my shirt." I heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and she laughed. "I did tell you that I'm a mind-reader too, didn't I?"

I chuckled, leaning back and feeling her hand run through my hair. "Guilty as charged", I said.

"I'm shocked", she whispered next to my ear, and as she did, she wrapped a black blindfold around my eyes. It happened so quickly, and she secured it so firmly, that it took me a couple of seconds to register what had happened. I opened my eyes underneath- it was comfortable enough, but I couldn't see anything at all.

"That's better", I heard her say as her voice circled back around to the front of the couch. I felt her hands on my knees again, my hips, brushing over my erection. It made me groan, and the movements of her body between my legs told me that now she was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. A few seconds later, I heard it drop to the floor. "This isn't a fashion show, you know."

I groaned again, a little louder this time, and she giggled. "I promised you a blowjob, Matt. I didn't say you got to ogle me at the same time."

"That's...that's totally understandable, Miss Selena", I managed, squirming in my seat.

She laughed triumphantly. "Good boy."

All thought once again ceased as I felt her take me into her mouth again- my head lolling back, the strength going from my legs, the disappointment of not being allowed to see her. "Oh God", I whispered, and, not wanting to give her any ideas, only thought: please don't stop. And, to my surprise, she didn't- at least for a little while. She did go slow, of course, little licks and swirls of her tongue leading up to a point where she once again took me into her mouth. My breathing had changed, and I was just beginning to really enjoy myself, when she stopped again and I felt my erection flop down into empty air. I heard myself moan and bit my knuckle, my toes contracting. "M...Miss Selena, what...?"

I couldn't see her, but I knew she was smiling as she leaned forward and looked up at me. I could feel her breasts pressing against my inner thighs. "Come on, Matt. We already agreed that you'll probably look back on this as being a pretty special privilege, didn't we? You have to let me tease you a little."

A quick kiss right on my tip provoked more like a cry of despair than a moan, and I found myself almost spasming in my seat, my legs trembling uncontrollably. This in turn provoked more laughter from Selena, who put her hands on my knees as she stood up. "Actually, hold on. Be right back." I could sense her pause as she looked down at me, and she then added, barely able to keep the giggle out of her voice, "Don't go anywhere."

I heard her circle around behind me again, and when she returned I felt her wrap something- it felt like a long-sleeve cotton shirt- around my ankles, tying them snugly and securely to the point that my ankles were crossed. I then felt her on the couch next to me, taking my wrists and doing the same to them with what felt like another shirt. She murmured, "Just a little taste of helplessness for you, Matt", which once again made my body tremble and shake, as without even meaning to I felt myself trying to escape. But I couldn't move.

I'll introduce you to my cuffs another time", she said from between my legs. "To a deeper helplessness. If you're good."

And then, once again, all thought ceased.

Sort of.

It was more like I was flitting in and out of consciousness for what felt like the next hour. But for all I knew it was longer, or shorter than that. Selena would change speeds, start and stop abruptly (sometimes when she stopped she would say or ask me something, but sometimes just sit there, presumably watching my reactions). Once she went to get a glass of water, offering me one as well, departing from me with one quick kiss on my tip that sent me into a fit of trembling and caused her to giggle uncontrollably.

When she finally pushed me over the edge, I wasn't expecting it. She had pulled away so many times already, and she seemed to be so good (almost preternaturally?) at knowing when I was close, I expected her to stop once more. But to my surprise and incredible relief, she kept going, speeding up, and I felt myself finally racing up not just to that far away cliff on the horizon, but finally stumbling over the edge, falling, an ocean of bliss waiting for me at the bottom...and...and...

...nothing.

"...No!" I cried. "No!"

It was the point of no return, and my body spasmed as if in the throes of orgasm, but...there was no relief. No pleasure. No orgasm. I don't quite remember all the sounds that came out of my mouth, but I eventually ended up exhausted, on my side, humping the air in weaker and weaker movements. Trying to reclaim the nirvana that it had been SO sure was within reach.

Once I'd finally stopped shaking and making noises, lying there on my side, I heard her move towards me, and felt her hand undoing the blindfold.

"Peekaboo." Her eyes were shining, and she was grinning widely. Able to see again, I couldn't help noting that she was kneeling in front of me in her purple lace bra. My futile erection pressed upwards against the air, and I groaned.

She smiled even wider. "Still associate blowjobs with submissiveness, Matt?"

In spite of the fact that I nearly had tears in my eyes, I had to chuckle with appreciation at her evil genius. "Maybe...maybe with my own, Miss Selena."

She threw back her head and laughed at that. I realized that I liked making her laugh. I liked pleasing her.

"But I still don't...understand..."

She looked back down at me, eyes still shining. My own eyes wandered a bit, and I noticed her skirt was on the floor, in a pile with my pants and belt. I tried to stop myself from glancing downwards.

"Don't understand what, silly boy?"

"I just...I thought...with the word 'apple' and all..." I was still acutely aware that my wrists and ankles were tied, that I was her prisoner. She leaned forward and stroked the side of my face with the back of her hand. Purple-painted nails gently grazed the stubble on my chin.

"Matt, Matt, Matt. Such a smart boy. I think you had that movie figured out almost from the beginning. But you really thought that I would tell you how to reverse the spell?"

I stared at her, mouth agape.

"Do you want to know my theory?" Eyes fixed on mine, still stroking the side of my face gently.

I nodded. "More than anything."

"I think you knew all along that I was tricking you. But you didn't mind and even liked it. One part of you knew, anyway. The other part of you...well, you were thinking..."- her hand began to trail down my neck, to my chest- "with...your...penis", she finished, reaching the organ of which she spoke and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I almost passed out. I'd been calm for a few minutes, somehow, but now I felt myself struggling against the restraints again, fidgeting. She waited patiently for me to relax, still holding on to my erection. Like it was her possession.

Waiting me out, she proceeded once I'd calmed down. Still holding me with a firm grip down there and looking deep into my eyes, she said, "You know what it's time for now, don't you? Once I untie you?"

I wasn't sure. And was somehow afraid to make any suggestions. I shook my head.

In a gentle but authoritative tone, she said, "It's time for you to put your clothes back on and put your penis away. It's had enough excitement for one evening, don't you think?"

To my horror, I found myself nodding obediently.

"Good boy." She patted my head affectionately, and stood up, walking around the couch and leaving my erection bobbing in the air. As she did, I realized that her legs were bare except for a small pair of lace panties, purple, that matched her bra.

After she had let me loose, I stood up unsteadily. She reached out one hand to my arm to steady me, and in the process one of her breasts brushed against my shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind another movie before you go. I'm suddenly not very tired."

"That...that sounds good to me", I said, still in a daze. I stumbled over to my pants, grimacing slightly as I walked with an erection. All the while, all I could think was that I needed to cum. I needed to, I was sure of that...and yet I clearly wasn't going to.

She broke contact again and took my place on the couch, crossing one lovely leg over the other and looking up at me. I couldn't help groaning at the sight of her in such a pose, and at her knowing smile. "Are you going to be able to get those pants on, by the way?" Her tone was concerned. "I could always get an icepack from the freezer. We don't want you to get injured."

I shivered at the idea of an ice pack, and reluctantly began to slide my pants on. "I...I think I can manage, Miss Selena. I just have to be careful." It wasn't, after all, the first time I'd ever put on a pair of pants while I had an erection. It was perhaps the most frustrating, though.

I zipped myself up and buttoned my pants, all while she watched intently. "Yay." She clapped her hands briefly and sashayed with her shoulders, seemingly overcome with happiness. It was so cute it killed me. "The only thing missing is that I wish a zipper made...a louder sound, I guess. To add more of a note of finality to the proceedings, you know? To punctuate your imprisonment."

I doubled-over with the ache as a wave of arousal passed through me, holding my hands on my knees and looking up at her, chuckling despite everything. "I'm...I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Hmmm. Oh!" It seemed as though an idea had just come to her. "You've been having a lot of erections, haven't you?"

"Since we met? I...I would say so."

She seemed to lapse into thought again. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

"What do you...?"

She laughed. "Don't worry about that for now, though. Hurry up and pick a movie. Chop chop."

About an hour later, I had my arm around Selena's waist, spooning her. We were lying on the couch, in the middle of the movie, when she abruptly looked up at me. She raised her head and kissed me on the lips softly, lingering. Having managed to calm down somewhat in the interim, I felt the ache and the desperation return immediately.

Softly, she asked, "Did you enjoy your blowjob?"

Lying with her like this had almost allowed me to trick myself into thinking this was a typical dynamic, girlfriend and boyfriend rather than Mistress and submissive, but that one little question was an immediate reminder of just how much power she had over me. I had to fight to quell another round of pleading and begging, to stop myself from squirming so much that she'd be knocked off the edge of the couch (although I considered that she'd probably find that amusing).

And yet, after my immediate reaction, I found myself considering her question. And I found myself answering honestly.

"It was...it was amazing, Miss Selena."

"Good. I'm glad." She kissed me again, smiling. "It might be your last for a very, very long time."

"Y...yes, Miss."

I shivered again, and turned back to watching the movie. I had no idea what had been happening for the last few minutes- or even for the last hour, come to think of it. I hoped there wouldn't be a quiz.

I was sitting back on Selena's couch while she, from a kneeling position, began to unbuckle my belt.

"You still look a little surprised, Matt", she said. I leaned forward so she could remove my belt, which she then tossed to the side, and tried to organize my racing thoughts. I'd gone from being very confused (not to mention hornier than I'd ever been in my life), to reluctantly accepting the reality of magic and of having been placed under a spell I both loved and hated, to being offered some much-needed relief in a form I'd scarcely dared to hope for an hour previous. How had it happened?

Let's back up.

I'd experienced a wave of panic earlier, as we'd gotten ready to leave the cafe. Yes, a part of me liked what she'd done (even if, as I still couldn't help thinking, it must have been more some kind of hypnosis than actual magic). Yes, it was exciting (I was stammering some of this aloud to her as we walked, trying to keep my voice low). "But Selena", I continued as we walked out the door together (in a tone that sounded more pleading than I'd intended), "I mean...Miss...(she smiled as I corrected myself)...it can be reversed, can't it? The spell?"

Selena turned to me and stroked my cheek again, briefly. "Of course, Matthew. You don't mind if I call you Matthew?"

"Of course not", I murmured. My own voice sounded far away to me. I couldn't help looking into her eyes and feeling dizzy. It seemed almost superfluous that she'd bothered with actual hypnosis, or magic, or whatever the explanation was.

"I can reverse it anytime I like. All I have to do is say the word of a round, red fruit."

"Um. You mean, 'apple?'"

She nodded, then broke into a grin. "But don't worry. It's my least favorite fruit! I almost never have cause to say it!"

And with that she walked off, practically skipping.

The rest of the afternoon at work went by in a blur of fantasies and longing. All I could think about was seeing Selena again that evening. I made a quick stop at home after the day was mercifully finished to shower, shave, and again try on about five different shirts, none of them seeming quite right. Was it a casual evening, formal, or something in-between? And what effect did I actually want my appearance to have on her, come to think of it? Did I want to show that I respected her enough to dress nicely, and thus increase my chances of getting in her good graces and having her reverse the spell?

Or...did I want to make her pleased that she'd chosen me?

I finally settled on a light blue collared shirt and a pair of black jeans that could almost pass for dress pants, and swung by a local Chinese place to get take-out before heading over to Selena's.

When she answered the door, I almost dropped the food. Her shoulder-length dark hair was down, and she was wearing a white buttoned shirt (the kind that I sometimes wore to work myself) with the first couple of buttons open. It was nothing salacious or even inappropriate for going out; but in my desperate state, my imagination immediately started racing. In addition, she had on a black pleated skirt that seemed (at least in my febrile male psyche) to complete the outfit of the archetypical sexy secretary (I still had no idea what she did for a living); again, entirely appropriate for a day at work or out on the town, but the way it showed off her long bare legs made me feel slightly faint. She was barefoot, also. Her toenails were the same violet as her fingernails.

Smiling, she greeted me, and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek that nevertheless sent a futile wave of desire through me. "It smells delicious!"

As had happened earlier in the day, something strange happened when we sat down to eat. Being close to her of course intensified all my desires...but it also assuaged them in a way, and I found myself reasonably capable of talking about all kinds of topics with her. Food, music, movies. Not only was I capable of it, but it was gratifying to be discovering that I found her just as bewitching as a person as I found her physically. I felt briefly like I'd have been happy to talk with her for hours, the predicament she'd put me in an incidental detail of our new courtship that wasn't urgent in the slightest.

I felt that way, at any rate, until we'd both finished our meals (I had shrimp with garlic sauce; she had lo mein) and were sitting at the table with a couple of glasses of wine, and I felt her bare foot begin to nudge against mine, before gradually working its way up my leg.

I made a groaning noise and, in a rather undignified way, hit my forehead gently, a few times, against the table. Immediately hard, I felt my toes contract, and my body started to tremble with desire.

I looked up to find her smiling, as her foot worked its way into my lap. Her toes tapped me lightly- once, twice before moving a few inches away and resting along my inner thigh. "Are you okay, Matt?" She asked. "I don't want you to give yourself a concussion like that. You're not tired, are you? I understand if you want to go after your busy day. We can always continue this another evening."

"No no no no no no no", I stammered, looking up with a panicked expression, which prompted a peal of laughter from her. "I just..." I very softly pounded the table with a closed fist.

"Just what?" She asked softly, her foot rubbing back and forth along my inner thigh, ever so slowly. Barely moving, in fact. Barely touching.

"I'm just..." My voice almost broke. I took a sip of red wine to steady myself. "I guess I'm not used to not being able to orgasm."

"We'll fix that", she promised quietly, and I groaned again. "Want to watch a movie?"

...In retrospect, I can't even remember how I got her to say the word "apple." Nor do I remember consciously making the attempt to trick her into it, but I suppose I must have. All I know is that it happened while we were talking towards the end of a movie that I had a great deal of difficulty concentrating on- and it was nothing too nefarious on my part, I don't think. I'd only somehow made a comparison with another movie I'd seen recently that had prompted her to respond with the phrase, "Apples and oranges."

What I remember most vividly, however, is that the disappointment on her face after she realized what she'd said (or the apparent disappointment at any rate- perhaps I should've been more suspicious) mirrored the disappointment that I- against all logic- suddenly felt as well.

Then she shrugged, said that it would take at least 24 hours to revise the spell, and suggested that she might as well give me a blowjob on the couch. "I can be a good sport too", she said.

I was still a little dazed by the sudden turn of events, and even as I mentioned vaguely disappointed, but the disappointment was overridden by a very real and desperate need to cum.

Selena, as mentioned above, said that I seemed surprised.

"Well I...I just didn't expect..."

She paused, having unbuttoned my khakis, and looked up at me, letting her hands rest on my hips. "You didn't expect, Matt, that a dominant woman would be giving you a blowjob?"

"No, I...I guess not."

"So you think there's something submissive in the act of giving a blowjob?" She was watching me intently, big brown eyes focused on mine. I was thinking that maybe we could wait until afterwards to analyze it, but an answer was clearly expected of me- even though I could barely think!

"I...I guess I've always associated it more with submissiveness than dominance", I allowed. "But I don't think you're being submissive right now, Miss Selena."

She smiled faintly and exhaled at my fly. Warm breath. "How perceptive of you", she said quietly. Then she unzipped my pants slowly. "You've got a bit of an erection right now, so we've got to be careful. Wouldn't want you getting an injury."

I grimaced as the zipper passed a few inches from the aforementioned erection. "I appreciate that."

"I think we do have to concede one thing", she continued, as I leaned forward to help her slide my pants down from my waist. "Namely that boys magically consigned to the torment of orgasm denial don't typically receive blowjobs from their new Mistresses unless they've been very...very good."

It was the kind of formulation that reawakened my awful suspicion- horrible, really- that this was all some kind of trick. The thought however vanished like lightning- and after all, she had said "apple."

"Then again", she continued as she tossed my pants in the same direction she'd tossed my belt, "you've been a good sport and maybe you do deserve a reward." She looked up at me sternly. "Just don't get used to it."

"I won't...I promise", I said weakly, taking a deep breath as she reached for the button of my boxers- black today, I had the suspicion that she would at least be seeing them tonight (even if I hadn't dared to hope it would be in the context of a blowjob), and I thought they were a good-looking pair as far as boxers went- and let my erection slide through. She'd only been teasing me for about 24 hours, if you counted the party, but I happened not to have masturbated all week (it was Saturday now), and with the addition of her teasing, it felt like it had been forever.

"Such a desperate cock", she murmured, blowing on it softly and then extending her tongue, slowly taking me into her mouth. All thought ceased, and I closed my eyes, leaning back on the couch. It was happening!

"Hey!" I snapped open my eyes, and she was smiling up at me, having paused her ministrations. "You know what I just realized? That whole first part of the movie, that was all the sister's dream, wasn't it?"

I tried to focus. Had we watched a movie? "I think so. I think that explains a lot of things- the strange way the characters talk, that creature behind the Diner. I'm sure we'd pick up a lot of details if we watched it again."

"Yes, I think so. Smart boy, Matt. Very attentive."

"I...I try", I smiled weakly.

"Do you want to watch it again now?" I felt her move away and it looked like she was about to stand up. The movie had been over 2 hours long. "I have it rented for 48 hours!"

"No no no no no please please please Miss Selena", I heard myself saying. "Maybe...maybe after...?"

She giggled and moved closer again, smiling sweetly at me and rolling her eyes, shaking her head. "Yes, yes yes...I forgot, the all-important male orgasm. Back to my duties. Very well..."

Her mouth closed around me again. Every part of my body (well, every part except one) once again went weak, and I let myself lean back against the couch, eyes closed.

"But then why does she still have the money from the dream in the last act? If the first act was all a dream, I mean?"

I couldn't help groaning the moment I'd felt her pull away again- how long had it been this time, maybe five seconds?- and looked down into her smiling face again. She was enjoying this. It was clear that giving my thoughts on the plot wasn't optional. I felt my voice breaking a little as I said, "I think..." What did I think? "I think...the money was in the dream because it was real, you know? But it was on her mind, so she was dreaming about it."

She appeared to consider this, and for a dreadful moment I had the feeling that the continuation of the blowjob depended on whether she agreed with me. But she suddenly nodded with conviction (an incredibly cute gesture, somehow). "That sounds logical to me." I sighed with relief.

"Warm in here", she added. Still smiling, she sat up and reached downwards, beginning to unbutton her white shirt. One extra button...two...I got the slightest glimpse of purple lace before she paused, and stood. Gesturing with her finger, she said, "Wait a second. I almost forgot."

I knew it was unbecoming of a submissive male- or any male, really, in my humble opinion- to display impatience as the recipient of such a generous act, and I knew it was part of the tease, but I couldn't help the fact that, as she stood up, a couple of incoherently desperate sounds emanated from the back of my throat. My eyes followed her lovely form- white shirt over what I now knew to be purple lace (she was still going to take it off, wasn't she?), and a black pleated skirt that in my fevered imagination now also covered...well, who knew? I'd begun to associate her with the color purple, and all its minute variations.

"Don't worry Matt", she said as she circled behind me, "this will just take a second, and then I'll take off my shirt." I heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and she laughed. "I did tell you that I'm a mind-reader too, didn't I?"

I chuckled, leaning back and feeling her hand run through my hair. "Guilty as charged", I said.

"I'm shocked", she whispered next to my ear, and as she did, she wrapped a black blindfold around my eyes. It happened so quickly, and she secured it so firmly, that it took me a couple of seconds to register what had happened. I opened my eyes underneath- it was comfortable enough, but I couldn't see anything at all.

"That's better", I heard her say as her voice circled back around to the front of the couch. I felt her hands on my knees again, my hips, brushing over my erection. It made me groan, and the movements of her body between my legs told me that now she was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt. A few seconds later, I heard it drop to the floor. "This isn't a fashion show, you know."

I groaned again, a little louder this time, and she giggled. "I promised you a blowjob, Matt. I didn't say you got to ogle me at the same time."

"That's...that's totally understandable, Miss Selena", I managed, squirming in my seat.

She laughed triumphantly. "Good boy."

All thought once again ceased as I felt her take me into her mouth again- my head lolling back, the strength going from my legs, the disappointment of not being allowed to see her. "Oh God", I whispered, and, not wanting to give her any ideas, only thought: please don't stop. And, to my surprise, she didn't- at least for a little while. She did go slow, of course, little licks and swirls of her tongue leading up to a point where she once again took me into her mouth. My breathing had changed, and I was just beginning to really enjoy myself, when she stopped again and I felt my erection flop down into empty air. I heard myself moan and bit my knuckle, my toes contracting. "M...Miss Selena, what...?"

I couldn't see her, but I knew she was smiling as she leaned forward and looked up at me. I could feel her breasts pressing against my inner thighs. "Come on, Matt. We already agreed that you'll probably look back on this as being a pretty special privilege, didn't we? You have to let me tease you a little."

A quick kiss right on my tip provoked more like a cry of despair than a moan, and I found myself almost spasming in my seat, my legs trembling uncontrollably. This in turn provoked more laughter from Selena, who put her hands on my knees as she stood up. "Actually, hold on. Be right back." I could sense her pause as she looked down at me, and she then added, barely able to keep the giggle out of her voice, "Don't go anywhere."

I heard her circle around behind me again, and when she returned I felt her wrap something- it felt like a long-sleeve cotton shirt- around my ankles, tying them snugly and securely to the point that my ankles were crossed. I then felt her on the couch next to me, taking my wrists and doing the same to them with what felt like another shirt. She murmured, "Just a little taste of helplessness for you, Matt", which once again made my body tremble and shake, as without even meaning to I felt myself trying to escape. But I couldn't move.

I'll introduce you to my cuffs another time", she said from between my legs. "To a deeper helplessness. If you're good."

And then, once again, all thought ceased.

Sort of.

It was more like I was flitting in and out of consciousness for what felt like the next hour. But for all I knew it was longer, or shorter than that. Selena would change speeds, start and stop abruptly (sometimes when she stopped she would say or ask me something, but sometimes just sit there, presumably watching my reactions). Once she went to get a glass of water, offering me one as well, departing from me with one quick kiss on my tip that sent me into a fit of trembling and caused her to giggle uncontrollably.

When she finally pushed me over the edge, I wasn't expecting it. She had pulled away so many times already, and she seemed to be so good (almost preternaturally?) at knowing when I was close, I expected her to stop once more. But to my surprise and incredible relief, she kept going, speeding up, and I felt myself finally racing up not just to that far away cliff on the horizon, but finally stumbling over the edge, falling, an ocean of bliss waiting for me at the bottom...and...and...

...nothing.

"...No!" I cried. "No!"

It was the point of no return, and my body spasmed as if in the throes of orgasm, but...there was no relief. No pleasure. No orgasm. I don't quite remember all the sounds that came out of my mouth, but I eventually ended up exhausted, on my side, humping the air in weaker and weaker movements. Trying to reclaim the nirvana that it had been SO sure was within reach.

Once I'd finally stopped shaking and making noises, lying there on my side, I heard her move towards me, and felt her hand undoing the blindfold.

"Peekaboo." Her eyes were shining, and she was grinning widely. Able to see again, I couldn't help noting that she was kneeling in front of me in her purple lace bra. My futile erection pressed upwards against the air, and I groaned.

She smiled even wider. "Still associate blowjobs with submissiveness, Matt?"

In spite of the fact that I nearly had tears in my eyes, I had to chuckle with appreciation at her evil genius. "Maybe...maybe with my own, Miss Selena."

She threw back her head and laughed at that. I realized that I liked making her laugh. I liked pleasing her.

"But I still don't...understand..."

She looked back down at me, eyes still shining. My own eyes wandered a bit, and I noticed her skirt was on the floor, in a pile with my pants and belt. I tried to stop myself from glancing downwards.

"Don't understand what, silly boy?"

"I just...I thought...with the word 'apple' and all..." I was still acutely aware that my wrists and ankles were tied, that I was her prisoner. She leaned forward and stroked the side of my face with the back of her hand. Purple-painted nails gently grazed the stubble on my chin.

"Matt, Matt, Matt. Such a smart boy. I think you had that movie figured out almost from the beginning. But you really thought that I would tell you how to reverse the spell?"

I stared at her, mouth agape.

"Do you want to know my theory?" Eyes fixed on mine, still stroking the side of my face gently.

I nodded. "More than anything."

"I think you knew all along that I was tricking you. But you didn't mind and even liked it. One part of you knew, anyway. The other part of you...well, you were thinking..."- her hand began to trail down my neck, to my chest- "with...your...penis", she finished, reaching the organ of which she spoke and giving it a gentle squeeze.

I almost passed out. I'd been calm for a few minutes, somehow, but now I felt myself struggling against the restraints again, fidgeting. She waited patiently for me to relax, still holding on to my erection. Like it was her possession.

Waiting me out, she proceeded once I'd calmed down. Still holding me with a firm grip down there and looking deep into my eyes, she said, "You know what it's time for now, don't you? Once I untie you?"

I wasn't sure. And was somehow afraid to make any suggestions. I shook my head.

In a gentle but authoritative tone, she said, "It's time for you to put your clothes back on and put your penis away. It's had enough excitement for one evening, don't you think?"

To my horror, I found myself nodding obediently.

"Good boy." She patted my head affectionately, and stood up, walking around the couch and leaving my erection bobbing in the air. As she did, I realized that her legs were bare except for a small pair of lace panties, purple, that matched her bra.

After she had let me loose, I stood up unsteadily. She reached out one hand to my arm to steady me, and in the process one of her breasts brushed against my shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind another movie before you go. I'm suddenly not very tired."

"That...that sounds good to me", I said, still in a daze. I stumbled over to my pants, grimacing slightly as I walked with an erection. All the while, all I could think was that I needed to cum. I needed to, I was sure of that...and yet I clearly wasn't going to.

She broke contact again and took my place on the couch, crossing one lovely leg over the other and looking up at me. I couldn't help groaning at the sight of her in such a pose, and at her knowing smile. "Are you going to be able to get those pants on, by the way?" Her tone was concerned. "I could always get an icepack from the freezer. We don't want you to get injured."

I shivered at the idea of an ice pack, and reluctantly began to slide my pants on. "I...I think I can manage, Miss Selena. I just have to be careful." It wasn't, after all, the first time I'd ever put on a pair of pants while I had an erection. It was perhaps the most frustrating, though.

I zipped myself up and buttoned my pants, all while she watched intently. "Yay." She clapped her hands briefly and sashayed with her shoulders, seemingly overcome with happiness. It was so cute it killed me. "The only thing missing is that I wish a zipper made...a louder sound, I guess. To add more of a note of finality to the proceedings, you know? To punctuate your imprisonment."

I doubled-over with the ache as a wave of arousal passed through me, holding my hands on my knees and looking up at her, chuckling despite everything. "I'm...I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"Hmmm. Oh!" It seemed as though an idea had just come to her. "You've been having a lot of erections, haven't you?"

"Since we met? I...I would say so."

She seemed to lapse into thought again. "We'll have to see what we can do about that."

"What do you...?"

She laughed. "Don't worry about that for now, though. Hurry up and pick a movie. Chop chop."

About an hour later, I had my arm around Selena's waist, spooning her. We were lying on the couch, in the middle of the movie, when she abruptly looked up at me. She raised her head and kissed me on the lips softly, lingering. Having managed to calm down somewhat in the interim, I felt the ache and the desperation return immediately.

Softly, she asked, "Did you enjoy your blowjob?"

Lying with her like this had almost allowed me to trick myself into thinking this was a typical dynamic, girlfriend and boyfriend rather than Mistress and submissive, but that one little question was an immediate reminder of just how much power she had over me. I had to fight to quell another round of pleading and begging, to stop myself from squirming so much that she'd be knocked off the edge of the couch (although I considered that she'd probably find that amusing).

And yet, after my immediate reaction, I found myself considering her question. And I found myself answering honestly.

"It was...it was amazing, Miss Selena."

"Good. I'm glad." She kissed me again, smiling. "It might be your last for a very, very long time."

"Y...yes, Miss."

I shivered again, and turned back to watching the movie. I had no idea what had been happening for the last few minutes- or even for the last hour, come to think of it. I hoped there wouldn't be a quiz.

Part 1

I was sitting on a couch next to a girl named Selena- whom I'd known all of five minutes- and listening to her expound on some of the basic principles of magic, which wasn't a topic I knew much about or gave much credence to. I liked listening to her voice, though, and I was enjoying the party. There were people all around, the atmosphere was relaxed, and both Selena and I were having Heinekens from our mutual friend Emily's fridge.

We both looked up when someone changed the music- I could vaguely make out that Emily was standing over her laptop at the far end of the room- and put a new album on. I nodded with approval, recognizing the opening of "Sunday Morning", a pleasant almost childlike-sounding song that belied some of the darkness on the rest of the album.

"We needed something sexier!" Emily called out.

We both laughed, then Selena turned back to me and smiled. "This sounds familiar."

I wasn't trying to be the cool guy who knows old music with her, but I also wasn't going to completely punt on the opportunity. "Yeah, I really like this album. It's the first Velvet Underground. You know, the one with Nico? There's a banana on the cover?"

I felt a little awkward mentioning one of the most phallic of all fruits, but Selena didn't seem to mind, her eyes lighting up. "Oooh, is this the one with Femme Fatale?"

"That's track number three. I think."

"I like that one", she asserted. "And...what else would I know from it?"

I hesitated. "Well. There's Heroin, which is a really beautiful song in my opinion. I guess Venus in Furs is pretty well known also..."

"Oh! Venus in Furs, that sounds familiar. Isn't that the one about..."

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my beer, hoping she would finish the sentence. But she seemed unsure. "I think it's about, uh, you know...BDSM."

She smiled, remembering, her gaze looking off into the distance for a few seconds. "'Shiny shiny boots of leather'...is that how it goes?"

I chuckled. "Yep, that's the one. Track 4. Except I think he says 'shiny' three times, not two. He really wanted to emphasize that point. You seem like you actually know this album pretty well."

She shrugged, took a sip of her own beer, and leaned back against the couch next to me. "I used to listen to it a lot, but it's been a few years."

I found myself mimicking her posture somewhat, turning to face her, and for the first time I noticed how pretty she was. About my age, mid-30s perhaps (although there was also something vaguely, mysteriously ageless about her- or so it seemed to my romantic mind). Dark hair, dark eyes, and a violet cotton dress that reached most of the way to her knees, met by stockings tinged with a similar color. I noticed suddenly that she'd been making, with her finger, slow circles on one of her knees, right around the point where the dress ended. It seemed to me that she'd been absently doing that for the last couple of minutes, but I couldn't be sure.

"I used to listen to it a lot, too. It's a great album", I added, probably unnecessarily, and had to make a conscious attempt to stop looking at her finger.

"Do you think", she began, smiling conspiratorially, "that Lou Reed was into that stuff? I mean, do you think he liked the idea of some sexy woman in leather boots whipping him, making him submit, stuff like that?"

I chuckled, cleared my throat again, took another sip of Heineken, and answered as casually as I could. "I don't know. I think he...was a creative person who liked inhabiting a lot of different kinds of characters. I think he wanted to explore lots of different mental states in his lyrics. I don't know what he really liked sexually, though. I guess it wouldn't totally surprise me."

Still smiling, Selena reached up to brush her hair back before returning her hand to her leg. I forced myself to meet her eyes. We were both facing each other on the couch now, seemingly closer than we'd been when we'd started the conversation, though I couldn't remember how that had happened. The miracle of alcohol.

In any case, she continued, "You know, I had a friend who was into that kind of thing."

"Really?" I again did my best to sound casual. "Like, a female friend?"

"Well, of course, silly!" I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other as inconspicuously as humanly possible. "I mean, I was friends with the guy, too. At least while they were dating- you know, that kind of friend."

"Sure."

"Anyway. They were kind of open about it. Not with most people, but when close friends- like me- were around? She'd just be teasing him constantly, making him wear a chastity cage- I don't know if you know what that is-"

I couldn't help glancing at her hand again, her finger still making those small circles on her knee, right at that point where the hem of the dress ended and the visible stockings began. I forced myself to look back at her, and cleared my throat again. "I've...heard of them. Never seen one, though."

"Well", Selena continued, her eyes lighting up and amused, "it worked pretty well on this guy. I would say flawlessly, actually. I mean, he had no ability to masturbate- much less have sex- without Gwen's- that's my girlfriend's- approval. It was SO funny! You should have heard how respectful and obedient it made him. You really should have heard him, Matt- 'oh please Mistress, anything you say Mistress, Mistress I really need to cum.'" She giggled at the memory, her knee bouncing up and down a little, seemingly with delight.

"Poor guy", I suggested. "As a fellow male, I feel that I should be a little outraged that my brethren are being treated this way. That sounds kind of...inhumane! Even immoral. Isn't that against the law?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, he loved it. And he had a safe-word- you know what that is?"

"I know", I acknowledged.

"So he could've ended it any time. But he chose not to. But let me tell you, I think sometimes he was tempted to. Because"- she lowered her voice now, leaning in a little closer and looking around (no one was listening)- "Because Gwen NEVER let him have orgasms", she said, breaking out into giggles again.

I whistled, experiencing a range of conflicting emotions. "NEVER?"

She sat up again, still giggling, and took a few seconds to compose herself. "Well, I wouldn't say NEVER. But they were extremely rare, and only bestowed when he'd been a very, very good boy. He told her at one point- according to her- that he said he was starting to forget how they felt." She seemed about to break into laughter again, but somehow contained herself. "Ah." She rested her head back against the couch, sighed, and we were silent for a few seconds.

The album was still playing, track #3, and Nico filled the silence:

*'Cause everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)

The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)

She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)*...

Looking over at me as if for the first time, Selena said, "How did we get on this topic again?"

We both laughed. "I have no idea", I said. "No, I do. It was the Velvet Underground. Venus in Furs. Which incidentally is the next song."

"Right, right." Selena still seemed to be trying to compose herself. "What were we talking about before that?"

"Magic, I think. Something about casting spells?" On one hand, I hadn't been sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure while talking to this pretty girl about kinky sex, and was glad we seemed to be returning to a less erotic topic. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of disappointment, sadness, even longing, and I tried to steel myself.

"That's right. You were expressing skepticism." She raised a slightly scolding finger at me.

"Well." I shrugged. "I think I'm open-minded. But I've never had any experience with that sort of thing myself."

She looked back at me without saying anything for a few moments, as if sizing me up. Then she said, quietly, her hands smoothing her dress over her long legs, "Would you like to?"

In most other situations, I would have said no, or equivocated. In this case, I said "Yes" before I even consciously thought it.

Her smile came back. God, she was pretty. "Because I have this idea", she said.

"Go on."

"Well. Do you remember when I told you that, when you cast a spell, it only works on someone if it's what THEY want as well?"

I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Kind of like hypnosis, right? Or at least what they always tell us about hypnosis?"

"So you can't, like, enslave someone unless deep down they want to be enslaved. So don't worry. But that's just an example."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But that goes for things much more innocuous, as well. You don't have to worry about someone casting a spell over you to make you hop on one foot every time you see the color green...unless you've been nursing a secret desire to do that all your life."

I pretended to consider it. "I had a phase with hopping to the color green as a teenager. But it was embarrassing, let's not talk about it."

She chuckled and played with a strand of her hair with one hand, the other having come to rest in her lap.

"But you don't worry about anyone casting spells on you anyway, because to you there's no reality to it."

I nodded, smiling myself. "I'm not aware of ever having had a spell cast on me. But like I said, I think I'm at least somewhat open-minded."

"Well. Like I was saying, I've got this idea."

I had to force myself to breathe.

"With your permission- your consent, that's important- I'd like to cast a spell on you. It's something that I think you'll like, but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I nodded hesitantly, my legs still inconspicuously (I hoped) crossed- nodded hesitantly even though I immediately knew I was going to say "yes."

Come to think of it, in retrospect, maybe she knew as well.

"Anyway", she continued, "if you notice it in your life- and like I say, I really think it's something you'll like- you can call or text me and tell me your guess about what the spell is. If you're right, then...I guess that means I was right, and it worked."

I was willing to play along. Anything that involved texting or calling Selena in the future sounded good to me. "And so...what happens to the spell then? When I become aware of it, does that...break it?"

She smiled again, slyly, and leaned in closer to me. Almost like we were going to kiss. "Wellllllll...not necessarily", she whispered. Venus in Furs was on in the background, but I hardly noticed it. "If you don't like it, of course, I'll put an end to it immediately. Pinkie swear."

We shook pinkies, smiling, our lips almost touching. "But if I don't like it, it doesn't work anyway- right?"

"Uh, correct. But I guess I just mean that, even if you do like it deep down, as evidenced by the working of the spell, you still may wish to end it. Just, hypothetically speaking. Some things we like are still...difficult to handle. And I would honor that wish."

Gently, she reached over and stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted very badly to reach over and caress her legs, but there were a lot of people around- and besides, I was a little intimidated by her, by her beauty and by something else that I couldn't place- almost an otherworldliness. "You would free me", I suggested.

She nodded, smiling fondly. "Smart boy. Now you're getting it. On the other hand", she continued softly, "If you DO like it, we can keep the spell going for...well, for as long as you want, really. Or as long as I want", she added, laughing wickedly. For a second she seemed about to collapse into a similar fit of giggles as the one that had consumed her when she'd been telling me about her girlfriend's poor unfortunate (?) teased-to-insanity boyfriend.

I wasn't quite sure I understood that last formulation, but I was past the point of caring. And in any case, there was no actual risk, since magic wasn't real. Still...why was my heart pounding so hard? I took a deep breath and said, "I'm ready."

Straightening her shoulders and arranging her legs in the lotus position, she fixed me with a grin- later, in retrospect, I would think that it had looked triumphant- and touched my forehead. Quietly, eyes closed, she said a few words in a languge I didn't recognize.

She then opened her eyes again, still shining and fixed on mine.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It didn't even hurt."

"Of course not."

I allowed myself to brush her hair away from her face, and to lean in slowly. She returned my gesture with just the lightest and quickest of kisses. "And the nature of the spell?" I asked quietly. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

She smiled back at me. "No. That's part of the game, silly."

I returned home for the evening, got in the shower, and began to turn the strange encounter over in my head. Or that's one way of phrasing what I did, anyway. The other way of phrasing it- more to the point, in fact- would be to say that I began, in the shower, to visualize Selena's smile, her legs, that moment when one of her breasts had brushed against my elbow. That point at which her skirt had ended and her stockings had begun. And furthermore that I began to touch myself as I imagined this, one hand extended to the wall of the shower to steady myself, more excited by the encounter than even I'd realized, because I was at the edge quick. And yet...it didn't happen. I couldn't do it. It was like some invisible wall was holding me back. It was strange...but it had never been my preference to stand while masturbating, anyway.

It wasn't until I'd toweled off, put on a pair of boxers, laid down in bed, and tried again with the same result, that I started to feel a little worried. Confused.

And yes, more than a little frustrated as I laid there with blue balls, trying to go to sleep, and thoughts of Selena running through my head. My erection simply would not go away, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do with it. It wasn't just her body- but her words, her smile, her manner. The way she'd seemed to know the effect she was having on me. Finally, without even consciously thinking about what I was gong to do, and against my better judgment (survey says you're supposed to wait a day or two before texting, and definitely not during the middle of the night), I rolled over in bed, picked up my phone, and texted her.

"Hey, it was really nice meeting you tonight." I hesitated before writing the next sentence. "I think I might have a guess about the nature of the spell you cast." I hesitated again before hitting send.

Ten or so minutes later, I got a message back: "I thought you might! Coffee shop tomorrow?"

Part 2

To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn't hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn't spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena's words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation...but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I'd managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn't sure exactly when I'd gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn't quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. "Thanks", I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she'd already used in hers.

"Matt, aren't you going to ask permission?"

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds...until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

"Just messing with you", she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we'd made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I'd need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we'd both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. "Speaking of which...", I began.

"Hmm?" She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. "Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I've done?"

"Well." I suddenly felt very shy. "Here's the thing. If I'm wrong...if I'm just imagining things...then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst."

To my relief, she laughed. "Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway." Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? "But I thought you didn't believe in magic."

"That's just the thing. I don't. Except that..."

"Wait, wait." Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. "Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Well." I wasn't sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

"You texted me last night", Selena said. "Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened..."

"That's right. So...it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty...tired, you know?"

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. "Tired?"

"Uh...yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it's kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep...I wanted to, um...relax, you know?"

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. "Relax?"

"Well..."

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. "I...I think I get it, Matt." After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. "Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?"

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn't help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. "Um...boxers. Unbuttoned."

"You don't have to be so shy about it, Matt. It's a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but...we can talk about that another time. Right now I'm enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep...oh! What color?"

"My...my boxers?" I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

"Yes, silly."

"Blue, I think. Light blue."

"Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?"

"I...I think so."

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into...I wasn't quite sure what. I didn't trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn't want to move my hand away from hers.

"Did you go fast?" She asked. "Slow? Medium?"

"S...slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway", I added sheepishly.

"Mmm", she smiled. "I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that...well, again, that's a thought for another time. What did you...think about?"

I'd been afraid of this. "Oh...you know."

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. "No, I really don't."

"Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I...well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of...you know, sexy..." I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. "I really didn't...I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments. But...I kind of like that. And it's actually funny that you say that, because when I went home..."

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

"But that's for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you're lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?"

"Ahem." I tried to regain my composure. "Of course, my fair lady."

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. "Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and..." The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn't have distracted her. "And...?"

"Well, it...it never happened. Somehow I...I couldn't."

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"So I...I tried again and..."

She couldn't help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. "You tried again?"

"Well, uh..."

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, "Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again." Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, "Same result?"

I was barely breathing, and my voice had become close to a whisper. "Yes."

Her voice in turn became quiet as her hand found mine again. She looked very serious as she locked eyes with me. Now I was the one hanging on every word. "Poor boy. That must have been frustrating."

I couldn't help groaning. "You can't imagine." Since I realize I wanted to amuse her, I added, "I actually tried again this morning."

"Three times!!?" She could barely contain her glee, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.

I blushed. "Well yeah. I really, really wanted to...to cum."

"And now? How does it feel now?"

"W...worse", I said quietly.

"Worse?"

"Well." What the heck. "You're here, now."

To my relief, once again, her face broke into a broad smile. "You know, that's really very sweet."

"And I...well, I either have to go to the doctor, or..."

For the first time she looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you so much. You...you don't have to go to the doctor."

"You...you mean...?"

"Let's try this." Her hand pulled back again, and all I could think was that I wished she would touch me again. "Go and get me a coffee refill, would you? Here's a couple of dollars."

I took a deep breath and stood up slowly, willing my erection to go down. I stumbled over to the garbage area where they kept sugar and so on until I felt reasonably presentable, and went up to the counter.

When I brought her coffee back to her, she looked up smiling and patted the space in front of her. "Such a gentleman", she said as I slid into the opposite seat again. "Did you like obeying me just now, Matt?"

"Y...yes", I admitted.

"Good boy. Doesn't it feel good to obey?"

"Y...yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes...Miss Selena?" I kept my voice low, but no one was listening.

"Good boy. Now that you know the spell I cast, how would you describe its effect on you so far?"

I groaned again. "Frustrating."

She burst into another fit of giggles, barely able to compose herself. Finally, she said, "Yeah, you're going to have to get used to that. Or not!"

"But I..."

"I think we should discuss a few basics later. And that might be easier at my place. Get a few things straight about your new frustrating reality. Of course, what I told you last night is true. Anytime you want this to stop, we can. Do you want it to?"

"I...I don't think so."

"I didn't think so." She touched my wrist again, just briefly this time. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock. But I'm not doing this because I'm some evil bitch- well, not too much of one, anyway. I'm doing it because a) I enjoy it, and b) I think it's something you'll enjoy too." Her voice softened a little at this, seemingly hopeful.

"I just...I think I do like this game", I said, trying to straighten out my thoughts and emotions, "But if I had known, I could've...prepared myself."

She chuckled. "I think I know how you would've prepared yourself, Matt. If I'd allowed you to." She shook her head, sighed, looked me deep in the eyes, leaned closer over the table, her voice low again. "Boys always want just one last one, don't they? Just one more."

<i>Always?</i>, I wondered.

"But catching you unprepared- catching you off your guard, capturing something so precious to you before you even knew it was in danger- that's part of the fun."

I was suddenly aware of a fact that the ups and downs of the conversation had somehow kept at arm's length. But now, with her so close that I could smell her perfume and her lips almost touching my ear, I realized I wanted an orgasm perhaps more than I ever had before in my life.

"But that's not fair..."

"Matt, think of this as an opportunity to stop worrying about orgasms. Yours, I mean. I promise that helping me have some for a while will be just as satisfying. Maybe more so, in some ways. Doesn't it sound nice to focus on a woman's pleasure for a while?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Great! Look, I have to go now. See you at 7?"

Part 1

I was sitting on a couch next to a girl named Selena- whom I'd known all of five minutes- and listening to her expound on some of the basic principles of magic, which wasn't a topic I knew much about or gave much credence to. I liked listening to her voice, though, and I was enjoying the party. There were people all around, the atmosphere was relaxed, and both Selena and I were having Heinekens from our mutual friend Emily's fridge.

We both looked up when someone changed the music- I could vaguely make out that Emily was standing over her laptop at the far end of the room- and put a new album on. I nodded with approval, recognizing the opening of "Sunday Morning", a pleasant almost childlike-sounding song that belied some of the darkness on the rest of the album.

"We needed something sexier!" Emily called out.

We both laughed, then Selena turned back to me and smiled. "This sounds familiar."

I wasn't trying to be the cool guy who knows old music with her, but I also wasn't going to completely punt on the opportunity. "Yeah, I really like this album. It's the first Velvet Underground. You know, the one with Nico? There's a banana on the cover?"

I felt a little awkward mentioning one of the most phallic of all fruits, but Selena didn't seem to mind, her eyes lighting up. "Oooh, is this the one with Femme Fatale?"

"That's track number three. I think."

"I like that one", she asserted. "And...what else would I know from it?"

I hesitated. "Well. There's Heroin, which is a really beautiful song in my opinion. I guess Venus in Furs is pretty well known also..."

"Oh! Venus in Furs, that sounds familiar. Isn't that the one about..."

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my beer, hoping she would finish the sentence. But she seemed unsure. "I think it's about, uh, you know...BDSM."

She smiled, remembering, her gaze looking off into the distance for a few seconds. "'Shiny shiny boots of leather'...is that how it goes?"

I chuckled. "Yep, that's the one. Track 4. Except I think he says 'shiny' three times, not two. He really wanted to emphasize that point. You seem like you actually know this album pretty well."

She shrugged, took a sip of her own beer, and leaned back against the couch next to me. "I used to listen to it a lot, but it's been a few years."

I found myself mimicking her posture somewhat, turning to face her, and for the first time I noticed how pretty she was. About my age, mid-30s perhaps (although there was also something vaguely, mysteriously ageless about her- or so it seemed to my romantic mind). Dark hair, dark eyes, and a violet cotton dress that reached most of the way to her knees, met by stockings tinged with a similar color. I noticed suddenly that she'd been making, with her finger, slow circles on one of her knees, right around the point where the dress ended. It seemed to me that she'd been absently doing that for the last couple of minutes, but I couldn't be sure.

"I used to listen to it a lot, too. It's a great album", I added, probably unnecessarily, and had to make a conscious attempt to stop looking at her finger.

"Do you think", she began, smiling conspiratorially, "that Lou Reed was into that stuff? I mean, do you think he liked the idea of some sexy woman in leather boots whipping him, making him submit, stuff like that?"

I chuckled, cleared my throat again, took another sip of Heineken, and answered as casually as I could. "I don't know. I think he...was a creative person who liked inhabiting a lot of different kinds of characters. I think he wanted to explore lots of different mental states in his lyrics. I don't know what he really liked sexually, though. I guess it wouldn't totally surprise me."

Still smiling, Selena reached up to brush her hair back before returning her hand to her leg. I forced myself to meet her eyes. We were both facing each other on the couch now, seemingly closer than we'd been when we'd started the conversation, though I couldn't remember how that had happened. The miracle of alcohol.

In any case, she continued, "You know, I had a friend who was into that kind of thing."

"Really?" I again did my best to sound casual. "Like, a female friend?"

"Well, of course, silly!" I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other as inconspicuously as humanly possible. "I mean, I was friends with the guy, too. At least while they were dating- you know, that kind of friend."

"Sure."

"Anyway. They were kind of open about it. Not with most people, but when close friends- like me- were around? She'd just be teasing him constantly, making him wear a chastity cage- I don't know if you know what that is-"

I couldn't help glancing at her hand again, her finger still making those small circles on her knee, right at that point where the hem of the dress ended and the visible stockings began. I forced myself to look back at her, and cleared my throat again. "I've...heard of them. Never seen one, though."

"Well", Selena continued, her eyes lighting up and amused, "it worked pretty well on this guy. I would say flawlessly, actually. I mean, he had no ability to masturbate- much less have sex- without Gwen's- that's my girlfriend's- approval. It was SO funny! You should have heard how respectful and obedient it made him. You really should have heard him, Matt- 'oh please Mistress, anything you say Mistress, Mistress I really need to cum.'" She giggled at the memory, her knee bouncing up and down a little, seemingly with delight.

"Poor guy", I suggested. "As a fellow male, I feel that I should be a little outraged that my brethren are being treated this way. That sounds kind of...inhumane! Even immoral. Isn't that against the law?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, he loved it. And he had a safe-word- you know what that is?"

"I know", I acknowledged.

"So he could've ended it any time. But he chose not to. But let me tell you, I think sometimes he was tempted to. Because"- she lowered her voice now, leaning in a little closer and looking around (no one was listening)- "Because Gwen NEVER let him have orgasms", she said, breaking out into giggles again.

I whistled, experiencing a range of conflicting emotions. "NEVER?"

She sat up again, still giggling, and took a few seconds to compose herself. "Well, I wouldn't say NEVER. But they were extremely rare, and only bestowed when he'd been a very, very good boy. He told her at one point- according to her- that he said he was starting to forget how they felt." She seemed about to break into laughter again, but somehow contained herself. "Ah." She rested her head back against the couch, sighed, and we were silent for a few seconds.

The album was still playing, track #3, and Nico filled the silence:

*'Cause everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)

The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)

She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)*...

Looking over at me as if for the first time, Selena said, "How did we get on this topic again?"

We both laughed. "I have no idea", I said. "No, I do. It was the Velvet Underground. Venus in Furs. Which incidentally is the next song."

"Right, right." Selena still seemed to be trying to compose herself. "What were we talking about before that?"

"Magic, I think. Something about casting spells?" On one hand, I hadn't been sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure while talking to this pretty girl about kinky sex, and was glad we seemed to be returning to a less erotic topic. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of disappointment, sadness, even longing, and I tried to steel myself.

"That's right. You were expressing skepticism." She raised a slightly scolding finger at me.

"Well." I shrugged. "I think I'm open-minded. But I've never had any experience with that sort of thing myself."

She looked back at me without saying anything for a few moments, as if sizing me up. Then she said, quietly, her hands smoothing her dress over her long legs, "Would you like to?"

In most other situations, I would have said no, or equivocated. In this case, I said "Yes" before I even consciously thought it.

Her smile came back. God, she was pretty. "Because I have this idea", she said.

"Go on."

"Well. Do you remember when I told you that, when you cast a spell, it only works on someone if it's what THEY want as well?"

I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Kind of like hypnosis, right? Or at least what they always tell us about hypnosis?"

"So you can't, like, enslave someone unless deep down they want to be enslaved. So don't worry. But that's just an example."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But that goes for things much more innocuous, as well. You don't have to worry about someone casting a spell over you to make you hop on one foot every time you see the color green...unless you've been nursing a secret desire to do that all your life."

I pretended to consider it. "I had a phase with hopping to the color green as a teenager. But it was embarrassing, let's not talk about it."

She chuckled and played with a strand of her hair with one hand, the other having come to rest in her lap.

"But you don't worry about anyone casting spells on you anyway, because to you there's no reality to it."

I nodded, smiling myself. "I'm not aware of ever having had a spell cast on me. But like I said, I think I'm at least somewhat open-minded."

"Well. Like I was saying, I've got this idea."

I had to force myself to breathe.

"With your permission- your consent, that's important- I'd like to cast a spell on you. It's something that I think you'll like, but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I nodded hesitantly, my legs still inconspicuously (I hoped) crossed- nodded hesitantly even though I immediately knew I was going to say "yes."

Come to think of it, in retrospect, maybe she knew as well.

"Anyway", she continued, "if you notice it in your life- and like I say, I really think it's something you'll like- you can call or text me and tell me your guess about what the spell is. If you're right, then...I guess that means I was right, and it worked."

I was willing to play along. Anything that involved texting or calling Selena in the future sounded good to me. "And so...what happens to the spell then? When I become aware of it, does that...break it?"

She smiled again, slyly, and leaned in closer to me. Almost like we were going to kiss. "Wellllllll...not necessarily", she whispered. Venus in Furs was on in the background, but I hardly noticed it. "If you don't like it, of course, I'll put an end to it immediately. Pinkie swear."

We shook pinkies, smiling, our lips almost touching. "But if I don't like it, it doesn't work anyway- right?"

"Uh, correct. But I guess I just mean that, even if you do like it deep down, as evidenced by the working of the spell, you still may wish to end it. Just, hypothetically speaking. Some things we like are still...difficult to handle. And I would honor that wish."

Gently, she reached over and stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted very badly to reach over and caress her legs, but there were a lot of people around- and besides, I was a little intimidated by her, by her beauty and by something else that I couldn't place- almost an otherworldliness. "You would free me", I suggested.

She nodded, smiling fondly. "Smart boy. Now you're getting it. On the other hand", she continued softly, "If you DO like it, we can keep the spell going for...well, for as long as you want, really. Or as long as I want", she added, laughing wickedly. For a second she seemed about to collapse into a similar fit of giggles as the one that had consumed her when she'd been telling me about her girlfriend's poor unfortunate (?) teased-to-insanity boyfriend.

I wasn't quite sure I understood that last formulation, but I was past the point of caring. And in any case, there was no actual risk, since magic wasn't real. Still...why was my heart pounding so hard? I took a deep breath and said, "I'm ready."

Straightening her shoulders and arranging her legs in the lotus position, she fixed me with a grin- later, in retrospect, I would think that it had looked triumphant- and touched my forehead. Quietly, eyes closed, she said a few words in a languge I didn't recognize.

She then opened her eyes again, still shining and fixed on mine.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It didn't even hurt."

"Of course not."

I allowed myself to brush her hair away from her face, and to lean in slowly. She returned my gesture with just the lightest and quickest of kisses. "And the nature of the spell?" I asked quietly. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

She smiled back at me. "No. That's part of the game, silly."

I returned home for the evening, got in the shower, and began to turn the strange encounter over in my head. Or that's one way of phrasing what I did, anyway. The other way of phrasing it- more to the point, in fact- would be to say that I began, in the shower, to visualize Selena's smile, her legs, that moment when one of her breasts had brushed against my elbow. That point at which her skirt had ended and her stockings had begun. And furthermore that I began to touch myself as I imagined this, one hand extended to the wall of the shower to steady myself, more excited by the encounter than even I'd realized, because I was at the edge quick. And yet...it didn't happen. I couldn't do it. It was like some invisible wall was holding me back. It was strange...but it had never been my preference to stand while masturbating, anyway.

It wasn't until I'd toweled off, put on a pair of boxers, laid down in bed, and tried again with the same result, that I started to feel a little worried. Confused.

And yes, more than a little frustrated as I laid there with blue balls, trying to go to sleep, and thoughts of Selena running through my head. My erection simply would not go away, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do with it. It wasn't just her body- but her words, her smile, her manner. The way she'd seemed to know the effect she was having on me. Finally, without even consciously thinking about what I was gong to do, and against my better judgment (survey says you're supposed to wait a day or two before texting, and definitely not during the middle of the night), I rolled over in bed, picked up my phone, and texted her.

"Hey, it was really nice meeting you tonight." I hesitated before writing the next sentence. "I think I might have a guess about the nature of the spell you cast." I hesitated again before hitting send.

Ten or so minutes later, I got a message back: "I thought you might! Coffee shop tomorrow?"

Part 2

To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn't hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn't spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena's words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation...but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I'd managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn't sure exactly when I'd gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn't quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. "Thanks", I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she'd already used in hers.

"Matt, aren't you going to ask permission?"

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds...until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

"Just messing with you", she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we'd made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I'd need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we'd both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. "Speaking of which...", I began.

"Hmm?" She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. "Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I've done?"

"Well." I suddenly felt very shy. "Here's the thing. If I'm wrong...if I'm just imagining things...then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst."

To my relief, she laughed. "Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway." Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? "But I thought you didn't believe in magic."

"That's just the thing. I don't. Except that..."

"Wait, wait." Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. "Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Well." I wasn't sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

"You texted me last night", Selena said. "Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened..."

"That's right. So...it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty...tired, you know?"

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. "Tired?"

"Uh...yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it's kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep...I wanted to, um...relax, you know?"

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. "Relax?"

"Well..."

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. "I...I think I get it, Matt." After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. "Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?"

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn't help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. "Um...boxers. Unbuttoned."

"You don't have to be so shy about it, Matt. It's a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but...we can talk about that another time. Right now I'm enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep...oh! What color?"

"My...my boxers?" I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

"Yes, silly."

"Blue, I think. Light blue."

"Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?"

"I...I think so."

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into...I wasn't quite sure what. I didn't trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn't want to move my hand away from hers.

"Did you go fast?" She asked. "Slow? Medium?"

"S...slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway", I added sheepishly.

"Mmm", she smiled. "I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that...well, again, that's a thought for another time. What did you...think about?"

I'd been afraid of this. "Oh...you know."

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. "No, I really don't."

"Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I...well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of...you know, sexy..." I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. "I really didn't...I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments. But...I kind of like that. And it's actually funny that you say that, because when I went home..."

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

"But that's for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you're lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?"

"Ahem." I tried to regain my composure. "Of course, my fair lady."

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. "Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and..." The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn't have distracted her. "And...?"

"Well, it...it never happened. Somehow I...I couldn't."

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"So I...I tried again and..."

She couldn't help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. "You tried again?"

"Well, uh..."

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, "Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again." Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, "Same result?"

I was barely breathing, and my voice had become close to a whisper. "Yes."

Her voice in turn became quiet as her hand found mine again. She looked very serious as she locked eyes with me. Now I was the one hanging on every word. "Poor boy. That must have been frustrating."

I couldn't help groaning. "You can't imagine." Since I realize I wanted to amuse her, I added, "I actually tried again this morning."

"Three times!!?" She could barely contain her glee, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.

I blushed. "Well yeah. I really, really wanted to...to cum."

"And now? How does it feel now?"

"W...worse", I said quietly.

"Worse?"

"Well." What the heck. "You're here, now."

To my relief, once again, her face broke into a broad smile. "You know, that's really very sweet."

"And I...well, I either have to go to the doctor, or..."

For the first time she looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you so much. You...you don't have to go to the doctor."

"You...you mean...?"

"Let's try this." Her hand pulled back again, and all I could think was that I wished she would touch me again. "Go and get me a coffee refill, would you? Here's a couple of dollars."

I took a deep breath and stood up slowly, willing my erection to go down. I stumbled over to the garbage area where they kept sugar and so on until I felt reasonably presentable, and went up to the counter.

When I brought her coffee back to her, she looked up smiling and patted the space in front of her. "Such a gentleman", she said as I slid into the opposite seat again. "Did you like obeying me just now, Matt?"

"Y...yes", I admitted.

"Good boy. Doesn't it feel good to obey?"

"Y...yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes...Miss Selena?" I kept my voice low, but no one was listening.

"Good boy. Now that you know the spell I cast, how would you describe its effect on you so far?"

I groaned again. "Frustrating."

She burst into another fit of giggles, barely able to compose herself. Finally, she said, "Yeah, you're going to have to get used to that. Or not!"

"But I..."

"I think we should discuss a few basics later. And that might be easier at my place. Get a few things straight about your new frustrating reality. Of course, what I told you last night is true. Anytime you want this to stop, we can. Do you want it to?"

"I...I don't think so."

"I didn't think so." She touched my wrist again, just briefly this time. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock. But I'm not doing this because I'm some evil bitch- well, not too much of one, anyway. I'm doing it because a) I enjoy it, and b) I think it's something you'll enjoy too." Her voice softened a little at this, seemingly hopeful.

"I just...I think I do like this game", I said, trying to straighten out my thoughts and emotions, "But if I had known, I could've...prepared myself."

She chuckled. "I think I know how you would've prepared yourself, Matt. If I'd allowed you to." She shook her head, sighed, looked me deep in the eyes, leaned closer over the table, her voice low again. "Boys always want just one last one, don't they? Just one more."

<i>Always?</i>, I wondered.

"But catching you unprepared- catching you off your guard, capturing something so precious to you before you even knew it was in danger- that's part of the fun."

I was suddenly aware of a fact that the ups and downs of the conversation had somehow kept at arm's length. But now, with her so close that I could smell her perfume and her lips almost touching my ear, I realized I wanted an orgasm perhaps more than I ever had before in my life.

"But that's not fair..."

"Matt, think of this as an opportunity to stop worrying about orgasms. Yours, I mean. I promise that helping me have some for a while will be just as satisfying. Maybe more so, in some ways. Doesn't it sound nice to focus on a woman's pleasure for a while?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Great! Look, I have to go now. See you at 7?"

Part 1

I was sitting on a couch next to a girl named Selena- whom I'd known all of five minutes- and listening to her expound on some of the basic principles of magic, which wasn't a topic I knew much about or gave much credence to. I liked listening to her voice, though, and I was enjoying the party. There were people all around, the atmosphere was relaxed, and both Selena and I were having Heinekens from our mutual friend Emily's fridge.

We both looked up when someone changed the music- I could vaguely make out that Emily was standing over her laptop at the far end of the room- and put a new album on. I nodded with approval, recognizing the opening of "Sunday Morning", a pleasant almost childlike-sounding song that belied some of the darkness on the rest of the album.

"We needed something sexier!" Emily called out.

We both laughed, then Selena turned back to me and smiled. "This sounds familiar."

I wasn't trying to be the cool guy who knows old music with her, but I also wasn't going to completely punt on the opportunity. "Yeah, I really like this album. It's the first Velvet Underground. You know, the one with Nico? There's a banana on the cover?"

I felt a little awkward mentioning one of the most phallic of all fruits, but Selena didn't seem to mind, her eyes lighting up. "Oooh, is this the one with Femme Fatale?"

"That's track number three. I think."

"I like that one", she asserted. "And...what else would I know from it?"

I hesitated. "Well. There's Heroin, which is a really beautiful song in my opinion. I guess Venus in Furs is pretty well known also..."

"Oh! Venus in Furs, that sounds familiar. Isn't that the one about..."

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my beer, hoping she would finish the sentence. But she seemed unsure. "I think it's about, uh, you know...BDSM."

She smiled, remembering, her gaze looking off into the distance for a few seconds. "'Shiny shiny boots of leather'...is that how it goes?"

I chuckled. "Yep, that's the one. Track 4. Except I think he says 'shiny' three times, not two. He really wanted to emphasize that point. You seem like you actually know this album pretty well."

She shrugged, took a sip of her own beer, and leaned back against the couch next to me. "I used to listen to it a lot, but it's been a few years."

I found myself mimicking her posture somewhat, turning to face her, and for the first time I noticed how pretty she was. About my age, mid-30s perhaps (although there was also something vaguely, mysteriously ageless about her- or so it seemed to my romantic mind). Dark hair, dark eyes, and a violet cotton dress that reached most of the way to her knees, met by stockings tinged with a similar color. I noticed suddenly that she'd been making, with her finger, slow circles on one of her knees, right around the point where the dress ended. It seemed to me that she'd been absently doing that for the last couple of minutes, but I couldn't be sure.

"I used to listen to it a lot, too. It's a great album", I added, probably unnecessarily, and had to make a conscious attempt to stop looking at her finger.

"Do you think", she began, smiling conspiratorially, "that Lou Reed was into that stuff? I mean, do you think he liked the idea of some sexy woman in leather boots whipping him, making him submit, stuff like that?"

I chuckled, cleared my throat again, took another sip of Heineken, and answered as casually as I could. "I don't know. I think he...was a creative person who liked inhabiting a lot of different kinds of characters. I think he wanted to explore lots of different mental states in his lyrics. I don't know what he really liked sexually, though. I guess it wouldn't totally surprise me."

Still smiling, Selena reached up to brush her hair back before returning her hand to her leg. I forced myself to meet her eyes. We were both facing each other on the couch now, seemingly closer than we'd been when we'd started the conversation, though I couldn't remember how that had happened. The miracle of alcohol.

In any case, she continued, "You know, I had a friend who was into that kind of thing."

"Really?" I again did my best to sound casual. "Like, a female friend?"

"Well, of course, silly!" I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other as inconspicuously as humanly possible. "I mean, I was friends with the guy, too. At least while they were dating- you know, that kind of friend."

"Sure."

"Anyway. They were kind of open about it. Not with most people, but when close friends- like me- were around? She'd just be teasing him constantly, making him wear a chastity cage- I don't know if you know what that is-"

I couldn't help glancing at her hand again, her finger still making those small circles on her knee, right at that point where the hem of the dress ended and the visible stockings began. I forced myself to look back at her, and cleared my throat again. "I've...heard of them. Never seen one, though."

"Well", Selena continued, her eyes lighting up and amused, "it worked pretty well on this guy. I would say flawlessly, actually. I mean, he had no ability to masturbate- much less have sex- without Gwen's- that's my girlfriend's- approval. It was SO funny! You should have heard how respectful and obedient it made him. You really should have heard him, Matt- 'oh please Mistress, anything you say Mistress, Mistress I really need to cum.'" She giggled at the memory, her knee bouncing up and down a little, seemingly with delight.

"Poor guy", I suggested. "As a fellow male, I feel that I should be a little outraged that my brethren are being treated this way. That sounds kind of...inhumane! Even immoral. Isn't that against the law?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, he loved it. And he had a safe-word- you know what that is?"

"I know", I acknowledged.

"So he could've ended it any time. But he chose not to. But let me tell you, I think sometimes he was tempted to. Because"- she lowered her voice now, leaning in a little closer and looking around (no one was listening)- "Because Gwen NEVER let him have orgasms", she said, breaking out into giggles again.

I whistled, experiencing a range of conflicting emotions. "NEVER?"

She sat up again, still giggling, and took a few seconds to compose herself. "Well, I wouldn't say NEVER. But they were extremely rare, and only bestowed when he'd been a very, very good boy. He told her at one point- according to her- that he said he was starting to forget how they felt." She seemed about to break into laughter again, but somehow contained herself. "Ah." She rested her head back against the couch, sighed, and we were silent for a few seconds.

The album was still playing, track #3, and Nico filled the silence:

*'Cause everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)

The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)

She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)*...

Looking over at me as if for the first time, Selena said, "How did we get on this topic again?"

We both laughed. "I have no idea", I said. "No, I do. It was the Velvet Underground. Venus in Furs. Which incidentally is the next song."

"Right, right." Selena still seemed to be trying to compose herself. "What were we talking about before that?"

"Magic, I think. Something about casting spells?" On one hand, I hadn't been sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure while talking to this pretty girl about kinky sex, and was glad we seemed to be returning to a less erotic topic. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of disappointment, sadness, even longing, and I tried to steel myself.

"That's right. You were expressing skepticism." She raised a slightly scolding finger at me.

"Well." I shrugged. "I think I'm open-minded. But I've never had any experience with that sort of thing myself."

She looked back at me without saying anything for a few moments, as if sizing me up. Then she said, quietly, her hands smoothing her dress over her long legs, "Would you like to?"

In most other situations, I would have said no, or equivocated. In this case, I said "Yes" before I even consciously thought it.

Her smile came back. God, she was pretty. "Because I have this idea", she said.

"Go on."

"Well. Do you remember when I told you that, when you cast a spell, it only works on someone if it's what THEY want as well?"

I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Kind of like hypnosis, right? Or at least what they always tell us about hypnosis?"

"So you can't, like, enslave someone unless deep down they want to be enslaved. So don't worry. But that's just an example."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But that goes for things much more innocuous, as well. You don't have to worry about someone casting a spell over you to make you hop on one foot every time you see the color green...unless you've been nursing a secret desire to do that all your life."

I pretended to consider it. "I had a phase with hopping to the color green as a teenager. But it was embarrassing, let's not talk about it."

She chuckled and played with a strand of her hair with one hand, the other having come to rest in her lap.

"But you don't worry about anyone casting spells on you anyway, because to you there's no reality to it."

I nodded, smiling myself. "I'm not aware of ever having had a spell cast on me. But like I said, I think I'm at least somewhat open-minded."

"Well. Like I was saying, I've got this idea."

I had to force myself to breathe.

"With your permission- your consent, that's important- I'd like to cast a spell on you. It's something that I think you'll like, but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I nodded hesitantly, my legs still inconspicuously (I hoped) crossed- nodded hesitantly even though I immediately knew I was going to say "yes."

Come to think of it, in retrospect, maybe she knew as well.

"Anyway", she continued, "if you notice it in your life- and like I say, I really think it's something you'll like- you can call or text me and tell me your guess about what the spell is. If you're right, then...I guess that means I was right, and it worked."

I was willing to play along. Anything that involved texting or calling Selena in the future sounded good to me. "And so...what happens to the spell then? When I become aware of it, does that...break it?"

She smiled again, slyly, and leaned in closer to me. Almost like we were going to kiss. "Wellllllll...not necessarily", she whispered. Venus in Furs was on in the background, but I hardly noticed it. "If you don't like it, of course, I'll put an end to it immediately. Pinkie swear."

We shook pinkies, smiling, our lips almost touching. "But if I don't like it, it doesn't work anyway- right?"

"Uh, correct. But I guess I just mean that, even if you do like it deep down, as evidenced by the working of the spell, you still may wish to end it. Just, hypothetically speaking. Some things we like are still...difficult to handle. And I would honor that wish."

Gently, she reached over and stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted very badly to reach over and caress her legs, but there were a lot of people around- and besides, I was a little intimidated by her, by her beauty and by something else that I couldn't place- almost an otherworldliness. "You would free me", I suggested.

She nodded, smiling fondly. "Smart boy. Now you're getting it. On the other hand", she continued softly, "If you DO like it, we can keep the spell going for...well, for as long as you want, really. Or as long as I want", she added, laughing wickedly. For a second she seemed about to collapse into a similar fit of giggles as the one that had consumed her when she'd been telling me about her girlfriend's poor unfortunate (?) teased-to-insanity boyfriend.

I wasn't quite sure I understood that last formulation, but I was past the point of caring. And in any case, there was no actual risk, since magic wasn't real. Still...why was my heart pounding so hard? I took a deep breath and said, "I'm ready."

Straightening her shoulders and arranging her legs in the lotus position, she fixed me with a grin- later, in retrospect, I would think that it had looked triumphant- and touched my forehead. Quietly, eyes closed, she said a few words in a languge I didn't recognize.

She then opened her eyes again, still shining and fixed on mine.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It didn't even hurt."

"Of course not."

I allowed myself to brush her hair away from her face, and to lean in slowly. She returned my gesture with just the lightest and quickest of kisses. "And the nature of the spell?" I asked quietly. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

She smiled back at me. "No. That's part of the game, silly."

I returned home for the evening, got in the shower, and began to turn the strange encounter over in my head. Or that's one way of phrasing what I did, anyway. The other way of phrasing it- more to the point, in fact- would be to say that I began, in the shower, to visualize Selena's smile, her legs, that moment when one of her breasts had brushed against my elbow. That point at which her skirt had ended and her stockings had begun. And furthermore that I began to touch myself as I imagined this, one hand extended to the wall of the shower to steady myself, more excited by the encounter than even I'd realized, because I was at the edge quick. And yet...it didn't happen. I couldn't do it. It was like some invisible wall was holding me back. It was strange...but it had never been my preference to stand while masturbating, anyway.

It wasn't until I'd toweled off, put on a pair of boxers, laid down in bed, and tried again with the same result, that I started to feel a little worried. Confused.

And yes, more than a little frustrated as I laid there with blue balls, trying to go to sleep, and thoughts of Selena running through my head. My erection simply would not go away, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do with it. It wasn't just her body- but her words, her smile, her manner. The way she'd seemed to know the effect she was having on me. Finally, without even consciously thinking about what I was gong to do, and against my better judgment (survey says you're supposed to wait a day or two before texting, and definitely not during the middle of the night), I rolled over in bed, picked up my phone, and texted her.

"Hey, it was really nice meeting you tonight." I hesitated before writing the next sentence. "I think I might have a guess about the nature of the spell you cast." I hesitated again before hitting send.

Ten or so minutes later, I got a message back: "I thought you might! Coffee shop tomorrow?"

Part 2

To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn't hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn't spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena's words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation...but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I'd managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn't sure exactly when I'd gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn't quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. "Thanks", I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she'd already used in hers.

"Matt, aren't you going to ask permission?"

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds...until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

"Just messing with you", she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we'd made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I'd need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we'd both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. "Speaking of which...", I began.

"Hmm?" She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. "Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I've done?"

"Well." I suddenly felt very shy. "Here's the thing. If I'm wrong...if I'm just imagining things...then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst."

To my relief, she laughed. "Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway." Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? "But I thought you didn't believe in magic."

"That's just the thing. I don't. Except that..."

"Wait, wait." Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. "Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Well." I wasn't sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

"You texted me last night", Selena said. "Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened..."

"That's right. So...it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty...tired, you know?"

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. "Tired?"

"Uh...yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it's kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep...I wanted to, um...relax, you know?"

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. "Relax?"

"Well..."

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. "I...I think I get it, Matt." After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. "Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?"

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn't help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. "Um...boxers. Unbuttoned."

"You don't have to be so shy about it, Matt. It's a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but...we can talk about that another time. Right now I'm enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep...oh! What color?"

"My...my boxers?" I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

"Yes, silly."

"Blue, I think. Light blue."

"Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?"

"I...I think so."

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into...I wasn't quite sure what. I didn't trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn't want to move my hand away from hers.

"Did you go fast?" She asked. "Slow? Medium?"

"S...slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway", I added sheepishly.

"Mmm", she smiled. "I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that...well, again, that's a thought for another time. What did you...think about?"

I'd been afraid of this. "Oh...you know."

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. "No, I really don't."

"Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I...well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of...you know, sexy..." I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. "I really didn't...I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments. But...I kind of like that. And it's actually funny that you say that, because when I went home..."

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

"But that's for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you're lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?"

"Ahem." I tried to regain my composure. "Of course, my fair lady."

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. "Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and..." The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn't have distracted her. "And...?"

"Well, it...it never happened. Somehow I...I couldn't."

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"So I...I tried again and..."

She couldn't help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. "You tried again?"

"Well, uh..."

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, "Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again." Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, "Same result?"

I was barely breathing, and my voice had become close to a whisper. "Yes."

Her voice in turn became quiet as her hand found mine again. She looked very serious as she locked eyes with me. Now I was the one hanging on every word. "Poor boy. That must have been frustrating."

I couldn't help groaning. "You can't imagine." Since I realize I wanted to amuse her, I added, "I actually tried again this morning."

"Three times!!?" She could barely contain her glee, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.

I blushed. "Well yeah. I really, really wanted to...to cum."

"And now? How does it feel now?"

"W...worse", I said quietly.

"Worse?"

"Well." What the heck. "You're here, now."

To my relief, once again, her face broke into a broad smile. "You know, that's really very sweet."

"And I...well, I either have to go to the doctor, or..."

For the first time she looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you so much. You...you don't have to go to the doctor."

"You...you mean...?"

"Let's try this." Her hand pulled back again, and all I could think was that I wished she would touch me again. "Go and get me a coffee refill, would you? Here's a couple of dollars."

I took a deep breath and stood up slowly, willing my erection to go down. I stumbled over to the garbage area where they kept sugar and so on until I felt reasonably presentable, and went up to the counter.

When I brought her coffee back to her, she looked up smiling and patted the space in front of her. "Such a gentleman", she said as I slid into the opposite seat again. "Did you like obeying me just now, Matt?"

"Y...yes", I admitted.

"Good boy. Doesn't it feel good to obey?"

"Y...yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes...Miss Selena?" I kept my voice low, but no one was listening.

"Good boy. Now that you know the spell I cast, how would you describe its effect on you so far?"

I groaned again. "Frustrating."

She burst into another fit of giggles, barely able to compose herself. Finally, she said, "Yeah, you're going to have to get used to that. Or not!"

"But I..."

"I think we should discuss a few basics later. And that might be easier at my place. Get a few things straight about your new frustrating reality. Of course, what I told you last night is true. Anytime you want this to stop, we can. Do you want it to?"

"I...I don't think so."

"I didn't think so." She touched my wrist again, just briefly this time. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock. But I'm not doing this because I'm some evil bitch- well, not too much of one, anyway. I'm doing it because a) I enjoy it, and b) I think it's something you'll enjoy too." Her voice softened a little at this, seemingly hopeful.

"I just...I think I do like this game", I said, trying to straighten out my thoughts and emotions, "But if I had known, I could've...prepared myself."

She chuckled. "I think I know how you would've prepared yourself, Matt. If I'd allowed you to." She shook her head, sighed, looked me deep in the eyes, leaned closer over the table, her voice low again. "Boys always want just one last one, don't they? Just one more."

<i>Always?</i>, I wondered.

"But catching you unprepared- catching you off your guard, capturing something so precious to you before you even knew it was in danger- that's part of the fun."

I was suddenly aware of a fact that the ups and downs of the conversation had somehow kept at arm's length. But now, with her so close that I could smell her perfume and her lips almost touching my ear, I realized I wanted an orgasm perhaps more than I ever had before in my life.

"But that's not fair..."

"Matt, think of this as an opportunity to stop worrying about orgasms. Yours, I mean. I promise that helping me have some for a while will be just as satisfying. Maybe more so, in some ways. Doesn't it sound nice to focus on a woman's pleasure for a while?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Great! Look, I have to go now. See you at 7?"

Part 1

I was sitting on a couch next to a girl named Selena- whom I'd known all of five minutes- and listening to her expound on some of the basic principles of magic, which wasn't a topic I knew much about or gave much credence to. I liked listening to her voice, though, and I was enjoying the party. There were people all around, the atmosphere was relaxed, and both Selena and I were having Heinekens from our mutual friend Emily's fridge.

We both looked up when someone changed the music- I could vaguely make out that Emily was standing over her laptop at the far end of the room- and put a new album on. I nodded with approval, recognizing the opening of "Sunday Morning", a pleasant almost childlike-sounding song that belied some of the darkness on the rest of the album.

"We needed something sexier!" Emily called out.

We both laughed, then Selena turned back to me and smiled. "This sounds familiar."

I wasn't trying to be the cool guy who knows old music with her, but I also wasn't going to completely punt on the opportunity. "Yeah, I really like this album. It's the first Velvet Underground. You know, the one with Nico? There's a banana on the cover?"

I felt a little awkward mentioning one of the most phallic of all fruits, but Selena didn't seem to mind, her eyes lighting up. "Oooh, is this the one with Femme Fatale?"

"That's track number three. I think."

"I like that one", she asserted. "And...what else would I know from it?"

I hesitated. "Well. There's Heroin, which is a really beautiful song in my opinion. I guess Venus in Furs is pretty well known also..."

"Oh! Venus in Furs, that sounds familiar. Isn't that the one about..."

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my beer, hoping she would finish the sentence. But she seemed unsure. "I think it's about, uh, you know...BDSM."

She smiled, remembering, her gaze looking off into the distance for a few seconds. "'Shiny shiny boots of leather'...is that how it goes?"

I chuckled. "Yep, that's the one. Track 4. Except I think he says 'shiny' three times, not two. He really wanted to emphasize that point. You seem like you actually know this album pretty well."

She shrugged, took a sip of her own beer, and leaned back against the couch next to me. "I used to listen to it a lot, but it's been a few years."

I found myself mimicking her posture somewhat, turning to face her, and for the first time I noticed how pretty she was. About my age, mid-30s perhaps (although there was also something vaguely, mysteriously ageless about her- or so it seemed to my romantic mind). Dark hair, dark eyes, and a violet cotton dress that reached most of the way to her knees, met by stockings tinged with a similar color. I noticed suddenly that she'd been making, with her finger, slow circles on one of her knees, right around the point where the dress ended. It seemed to me that she'd been absently doing that for the last couple of minutes, but I couldn't be sure.

"I used to listen to it a lot, too. It's a great album", I added, probably unnecessarily, and had to make a conscious attempt to stop looking at her finger.

"Do you think", she began, smiling conspiratorially, "that Lou Reed was into that stuff? I mean, do you think he liked the idea of some sexy woman in leather boots whipping him, making him submit, stuff like that?"

I chuckled, cleared my throat again, took another sip of Heineken, and answered as casually as I could. "I don't know. I think he...was a creative person who liked inhabiting a lot of different kinds of characters. I think he wanted to explore lots of different mental states in his lyrics. I don't know what he really liked sexually, though. I guess it wouldn't totally surprise me."

Still smiling, Selena reached up to brush her hair back before returning her hand to her leg. I forced myself to meet her eyes. We were both facing each other on the couch now, seemingly closer than we'd been when we'd started the conversation, though I couldn't remember how that had happened. The miracle of alcohol.

In any case, she continued, "You know, I had a friend who was into that kind of thing."

"Really?" I again did my best to sound casual. "Like, a female friend?"

"Well, of course, silly!" I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other as inconspicuously as humanly possible. "I mean, I was friends with the guy, too. At least while they were dating- you know, that kind of friend."

"Sure."

"Anyway. They were kind of open about it. Not with most people, but when close friends- like me- were around? She'd just be teasing him constantly, making him wear a chastity cage- I don't know if you know what that is-"

I couldn't help glancing at her hand again, her finger still making those small circles on her knee, right at that point where the hem of the dress ended and the visible stockings began. I forced myself to look back at her, and cleared my throat again. "I've...heard of them. Never seen one, though."

"Well", Selena continued, her eyes lighting up and amused, "it worked pretty well on this guy. I would say flawlessly, actually. I mean, he had no ability to masturbate- much less have sex- without Gwen's- that's my girlfriend's- approval. It was SO funny! You should have heard how respectful and obedient it made him. You really should have heard him, Matt- 'oh please Mistress, anything you say Mistress, Mistress I really need to cum.'" She giggled at the memory, her knee bouncing up and down a little, seemingly with delight.

"Poor guy", I suggested. "As a fellow male, I feel that I should be a little outraged that my brethren are being treated this way. That sounds kind of...inhumane! Even immoral. Isn't that against the law?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, he loved it. And he had a safe-word- you know what that is?"

"I know", I acknowledged.

"So he could've ended it any time. But he chose not to. But let me tell you, I think sometimes he was tempted to. Because"- she lowered her voice now, leaning in a little closer and looking around (no one was listening)- "Because Gwen NEVER let him have orgasms", she said, breaking out into giggles again.

I whistled, experiencing a range of conflicting emotions. "NEVER?"

She sat up again, still giggling, and took a few seconds to compose herself. "Well, I wouldn't say NEVER. But they were extremely rare, and only bestowed when he'd been a very, very good boy. He told her at one point- according to her- that he said he was starting to forget how they felt." She seemed about to break into laughter again, but somehow contained herself. "Ah." She rested her head back against the couch, sighed, and we were silent for a few seconds.

The album was still playing, track #3, and Nico filled the silence:

*'Cause everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)

The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)

She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)*...

Looking over at me as if for the first time, Selena said, "How did we get on this topic again?"

We both laughed. "I have no idea", I said. "No, I do. It was the Velvet Underground. Venus in Furs. Which incidentally is the next song."

"Right, right." Selena still seemed to be trying to compose herself. "What were we talking about before that?"

"Magic, I think. Something about casting spells?" On one hand, I hadn't been sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure while talking to this pretty girl about kinky sex, and was glad we seemed to be returning to a less erotic topic. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of disappointment, sadness, even longing, and I tried to steel myself.

"That's right. You were expressing skepticism." She raised a slightly scolding finger at me.

"Well." I shrugged. "I think I'm open-minded. But I've never had any experience with that sort of thing myself."

She looked back at me without saying anything for a few moments, as if sizing me up. Then she said, quietly, her hands smoothing her dress over her long legs, "Would you like to?"

In most other situations, I would have said no, or equivocated. In this case, I said "Yes" before I even consciously thought it.

Her smile came back. God, she was pretty. "Because I have this idea", she said.

"Go on."

"Well. Do you remember when I told you that, when you cast a spell, it only works on someone if it's what THEY want as well?"

I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Kind of like hypnosis, right? Or at least what they always tell us about hypnosis?"

"So you can't, like, enslave someone unless deep down they want to be enslaved. So don't worry. But that's just an example."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But that goes for things much more innocuous, as well. You don't have to worry about someone casting a spell over you to make you hop on one foot every time you see the color green...unless you've been nursing a secret desire to do that all your life."

I pretended to consider it. "I had a phase with hopping to the color green as a teenager. But it was embarrassing, let's not talk about it."

She chuckled and played with a strand of her hair with one hand, the other having come to rest in her lap.

"But you don't worry about anyone casting spells on you anyway, because to you there's no reality to it."

I nodded, smiling myself. "I'm not aware of ever having had a spell cast on me. But like I said, I think I'm at least somewhat open-minded."

"Well. Like I was saying, I've got this idea."

I had to force myself to breathe.

"With your permission- your consent, that's important- I'd like to cast a spell on you. It's something that I think you'll like, but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I nodded hesitantly, my legs still inconspicuously (I hoped) crossed- nodded hesitantly even though I immediately knew I was going to say "yes."

Come to think of it, in retrospect, maybe she knew as well.

"Anyway", she continued, "if you notice it in your life- and like I say, I really think it's something you'll like- you can call or text me and tell me your guess about what the spell is. If you're right, then...I guess that means I was right, and it worked."

I was willing to play along. Anything that involved texting or calling Selena in the future sounded good to me. "And so...what happens to the spell then? When I become aware of it, does that...break it?"

She smiled again, slyly, and leaned in closer to me. Almost like we were going to kiss. "Wellllllll...not necessarily", she whispered. Venus in Furs was on in the background, but I hardly noticed it. "If you don't like it, of course, I'll put an end to it immediately. Pinkie swear."

We shook pinkies, smiling, our lips almost touching. "But if I don't like it, it doesn't work anyway- right?"

"Uh, correct. But I guess I just mean that, even if you do like it deep down, as evidenced by the working of the spell, you still may wish to end it. Just, hypothetically speaking. Some things we like are still...difficult to handle. And I would honor that wish."

Gently, she reached over and stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted very badly to reach over and caress her legs, but there were a lot of people around- and besides, I was a little intimidated by her, by her beauty and by something else that I couldn't place- almost an otherworldliness. "You would free me", I suggested.

She nodded, smiling fondly. "Smart boy. Now you're getting it. On the other hand", she continued softly, "If you DO like it, we can keep the spell going for...well, for as long as you want, really. Or as long as I want", she added, laughing wickedly. For a second she seemed about to collapse into a similar fit of giggles as the one that had consumed her when she'd been telling me about her girlfriend's poor unfortunate (?) teased-to-insanity boyfriend.

I wasn't quite sure I understood that last formulation, but I was past the point of caring. And in any case, there was no actual risk, since magic wasn't real. Still...why was my heart pounding so hard? I took a deep breath and said, "I'm ready."

Straightening her shoulders and arranging her legs in the lotus position, she fixed me with a grin- later, in retrospect, I would think that it had looked triumphant- and touched my forehead. Quietly, eyes closed, she said a few words in a languge I didn't recognize.

She then opened her eyes again, still shining and fixed on mine.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It didn't even hurt."

"Of course not."

I allowed myself to brush her hair away from her face, and to lean in slowly. She returned my gesture with just the lightest and quickest of kisses. "And the nature of the spell?" I asked quietly. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

She smiled back at me. "No. That's part of the game, silly."

I returned home for the evening, got in the shower, and began to turn the strange encounter over in my head. Or that's one way of phrasing what I did, anyway. The other way of phrasing it- more to the point, in fact- would be to say that I began, in the shower, to visualize Selena's smile, her legs, that moment when one of her breasts had brushed against my elbow. That point at which her skirt had ended and her stockings had begun. And furthermore that I began to touch myself as I imagined this, one hand extended to the wall of the shower to steady myself, more excited by the encounter than even I'd realized, because I was at the edge quick. And yet...it didn't happen. I couldn't do it. It was like some invisible wall was holding me back. It was strange...but it had never been my preference to stand while masturbating, anyway.

It wasn't until I'd toweled off, put on a pair of boxers, laid down in bed, and tried again with the same result, that I started to feel a little worried. Confused.

And yes, more than a little frustrated as I laid there with blue balls, trying to go to sleep, and thoughts of Selena running through my head. My erection simply would not go away, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do with it. It wasn't just her body- but her words, her smile, her manner. The way she'd seemed to know the effect she was having on me. Finally, without even consciously thinking about what I was gong to do, and against my better judgment (survey says you're supposed to wait a day or two before texting, and definitely not during the middle of the night), I rolled over in bed, picked up my phone, and texted her.

"Hey, it was really nice meeting you tonight." I hesitated before writing the next sentence. "I think I might have a guess about the nature of the spell you cast." I hesitated again before hitting send.

Ten or so minutes later, I got a message back: "I thought you might! Coffee shop tomorrow?"

Part 2

To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn't hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn't spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena's words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation...but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I'd managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn't sure exactly when I'd gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn't quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. "Thanks", I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she'd already used in hers.

"Matt, aren't you going to ask permission?"

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds...until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

"Just messing with you", she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we'd made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I'd need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we'd both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. "Speaking of which...", I began.

"Hmm?" She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. "Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I've done?"

"Well." I suddenly felt very shy. "Here's the thing. If I'm wrong...if I'm just imagining things...then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst."

To my relief, she laughed. "Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway." Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? "But I thought you didn't believe in magic."

"That's just the thing. I don't. Except that..."

"Wait, wait." Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. "Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Well." I wasn't sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

"You texted me last night", Selena said. "Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened..."

"That's right. So...it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty...tired, you know?"

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. "Tired?"

"Uh...yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it's kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep...I wanted to, um...relax, you know?"

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. "Relax?"

"Well..."

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. "I...I think I get it, Matt." After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. "Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?"

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn't help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. "Um...boxers. Unbuttoned."

"You don't have to be so shy about it, Matt. It's a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but...we can talk about that another time. Right now I'm enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep...oh! What color?"

"My...my boxers?" I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

"Yes, silly."

"Blue, I think. Light blue."

"Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?"

"I...I think so."

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into...I wasn't quite sure what. I didn't trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn't want to move my hand away from hers.

"Did you go fast?" She asked. "Slow? Medium?"

"S...slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway", I added sheepishly.

"Mmm", she smiled. "I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that...well, again, that's a thought for another time. What did you...think about?"

I'd been afraid of this. "Oh...you know."

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. "No, I really don't."

"Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I...well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of...you know, sexy..." I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. "I really didn't...I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments. But...I kind of like that. And it's actually funny that you say that, because when I went home..."

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

"But that's for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you're lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?"

"Ahem." I tried to regain my composure. "Of course, my fair lady."

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. "Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and..." The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn't have distracted her. "And...?"

"Well, it...it never happened. Somehow I...I couldn't."

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"So I...I tried again and..."

She couldn't help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. "You tried again?"

"Well, uh..."

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, "Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again." Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, "Same result?"

I was barely breathing, and my voice had become close to a whisper. "Yes."

Her voice in turn became quiet as her hand found mine again. She looked very serious as she locked eyes with me. Now I was the one hanging on every word. "Poor boy. That must have been frustrating."

I couldn't help groaning. "You can't imagine." Since I realize I wanted to amuse her, I added, "I actually tried again this morning."

"Three times!!?" She could barely contain her glee, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.

I blushed. "Well yeah. I really, really wanted to...to cum."

"And now? How does it feel now?"

"W...worse", I said quietly.

"Worse?"

"Well." What the heck. "You're here, now."

To my relief, once again, her face broke into a broad smile. "You know, that's really very sweet."

"And I...well, I either have to go to the doctor, or..."

For the first time she looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you so much. You...you don't have to go to the doctor."

"You...you mean...?"

"Let's try this." Her hand pulled back again, and all I could think was that I wished she would touch me again. "Go and get me a coffee refill, would you? Here's a couple of dollars."

I took a deep breath and stood up slowly, willing my erection to go down. I stumbled over to the garbage area where they kept sugar and so on until I felt reasonably presentable, and went up to the counter.

When I brought her coffee back to her, she looked up smiling and patted the space in front of her. "Such a gentleman", she said as I slid into the opposite seat again. "Did you like obeying me just now, Matt?"

"Y...yes", I admitted.

"Good boy. Doesn't it feel good to obey?"

"Y...yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes...Miss Selena?" I kept my voice low, but no one was listening.

"Good boy. Now that you know the spell I cast, how would you describe its effect on you so far?"

I groaned again. "Frustrating."

She burst into another fit of giggles, barely able to compose herself. Finally, she said, "Yeah, you're going to have to get used to that. Or not!"

"But I..."

"I think we should discuss a few basics later. And that might be easier at my place. Get a few things straight about your new frustrating reality. Of course, what I told you last night is true. Anytime you want this to stop, we can. Do you want it to?"

"I...I don't think so."

"I didn't think so." She touched my wrist again, just briefly this time. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock. But I'm not doing this because I'm some evil bitch- well, not too much of one, anyway. I'm doing it because a) I enjoy it, and b) I think it's something you'll enjoy too." Her voice softened a little at this, seemingly hopeful.

"I just...I think I do like this game", I said, trying to straighten out my thoughts and emotions, "But if I had known, I could've...prepared myself."

She chuckled. "I think I know how you would've prepared yourself, Matt. If I'd allowed you to." She shook her head, sighed, looked me deep in the eyes, leaned closer over the table, her voice low again. "Boys always want just one last one, don't they? Just one more."

<i>Always?</i>, I wondered.

"But catching you unprepared- catching you off your guard, capturing something so precious to you before you even knew it was in danger- that's part of the fun."

I was suddenly aware of a fact that the ups and downs of the conversation had somehow kept at arm's length. But now, with her so close that I could smell her perfume and her lips almost touching my ear, I realized I wanted an orgasm perhaps more than I ever had before in my life.

"But that's not fair..."

"Matt, think of this as an opportunity to stop worrying about orgasms. Yours, I mean. I promise that helping me have some for a while will be just as satisfying. Maybe more so, in some ways. Doesn't it sound nice to focus on a woman's pleasure for a while?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Great! Look, I have to go now. See you at 7?"

Part 1

I was sitting on a couch next to a girl named Selena- whom I'd known all of five minutes- and listening to her expound on some of the basic principles of magic, which wasn't a topic I knew much about or gave much credence to. I liked listening to her voice, though, and I was enjoying the party. There were people all around, the atmosphere was relaxed, and both Selena and I were having Heinekens from our mutual friend Emily's fridge.

We both looked up when someone changed the music- I could vaguely make out that Emily was standing over her laptop at the far end of the room- and put a new album on. I nodded with approval, recognizing the opening of "Sunday Morning", a pleasant almost childlike-sounding song that belied some of the darkness on the rest of the album.

"We needed something sexier!" Emily called out.

We both laughed, then Selena turned back to me and smiled. "This sounds familiar."

I wasn't trying to be the cool guy who knows old music with her, but I also wasn't going to completely punt on the opportunity. "Yeah, I really like this album. It's the first Velvet Underground. You know, the one with Nico? There's a banana on the cover?"

I felt a little awkward mentioning one of the most phallic of all fruits, but Selena didn't seem to mind, her eyes lighting up. "Oooh, is this the one with Femme Fatale?"

"That's track number three. I think."

"I like that one", she asserted. "And...what else would I know from it?"

I hesitated. "Well. There's Heroin, which is a really beautiful song in my opinion. I guess Venus in Furs is pretty well known also..."

"Oh! Venus in Furs, that sounds familiar. Isn't that the one about..."

I cleared my throat and took a sip of my beer, hoping she would finish the sentence. But she seemed unsure. "I think it's about, uh, you know...BDSM."

She smiled, remembering, her gaze looking off into the distance for a few seconds. "'Shiny shiny boots of leather'...is that how it goes?"

I chuckled. "Yep, that's the one. Track 4. Except I think he says 'shiny' three times, not two. He really wanted to emphasize that point. You seem like you actually know this album pretty well."

She shrugged, took a sip of her own beer, and leaned back against the couch next to me. "I used to listen to it a lot, but it's been a few years."

I found myself mimicking her posture somewhat, turning to face her, and for the first time I noticed how pretty she was. About my age, mid-30s perhaps (although there was also something vaguely, mysteriously ageless about her- or so it seemed to my romantic mind). Dark hair, dark eyes, and a violet cotton dress that reached most of the way to her knees, met by stockings tinged with a similar color. I noticed suddenly that she'd been making, with her finger, slow circles on one of her knees, right around the point where the dress ended. It seemed to me that she'd been absently doing that for the last couple of minutes, but I couldn't be sure.

"I used to listen to it a lot, too. It's a great album", I added, probably unnecessarily, and had to make a conscious attempt to stop looking at her finger.

"Do you think", she began, smiling conspiratorially, "that Lou Reed was into that stuff? I mean, do you think he liked the idea of some sexy woman in leather boots whipping him, making him submit, stuff like that?"

I chuckled, cleared my throat again, took another sip of Heineken, and answered as casually as I could. "I don't know. I think he...was a creative person who liked inhabiting a lot of different kinds of characters. I think he wanted to explore lots of different mental states in his lyrics. I don't know what he really liked sexually, though. I guess it wouldn't totally surprise me."

Still smiling, Selena reached up to brush her hair back before returning her hand to her leg. I forced myself to meet her eyes. We were both facing each other on the couch now, seemingly closer than we'd been when we'd started the conversation, though I couldn't remember how that had happened. The miracle of alcohol.

In any case, she continued, "You know, I had a friend who was into that kind of thing."

"Really?" I again did my best to sound casual. "Like, a female friend?"

"Well, of course, silly!" I shifted in my seat and crossed one leg over the other as inconspicuously as humanly possible. "I mean, I was friends with the guy, too. At least while they were dating- you know, that kind of friend."

"Sure."

"Anyway. They were kind of open about it. Not with most people, but when close friends- like me- were around? She'd just be teasing him constantly, making him wear a chastity cage- I don't know if you know what that is-"

I couldn't help glancing at her hand again, her finger still making those small circles on her knee, right at that point where the hem of the dress ended and the visible stockings began. I forced myself to look back at her, and cleared my throat again. "I've...heard of them. Never seen one, though."

"Well", Selena continued, her eyes lighting up and amused, "it worked pretty well on this guy. I would say flawlessly, actually. I mean, he had no ability to masturbate- much less have sex- without Gwen's- that's my girlfriend's- approval. It was SO funny! You should have heard how respectful and obedient it made him. You really should have heard him, Matt- 'oh please Mistress, anything you say Mistress, Mistress I really need to cum.'" She giggled at the memory, her knee bouncing up and down a little, seemingly with delight.

"Poor guy", I suggested. "As a fellow male, I feel that I should be a little outraged that my brethren are being treated this way. That sounds kind of...inhumane! Even immoral. Isn't that against the law?"

Selena rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, he loved it. And he had a safe-word- you know what that is?"

"I know", I acknowledged.

"So he could've ended it any time. But he chose not to. But let me tell you, I think sometimes he was tempted to. Because"- she lowered her voice now, leaning in a little closer and looking around (no one was listening)- "Because Gwen NEVER let him have orgasms", she said, breaking out into giggles again.

I whistled, experiencing a range of conflicting emotions. "NEVER?"

She sat up again, still giggling, and took a few seconds to compose herself. "Well, I wouldn't say NEVER. But they were extremely rare, and only bestowed when he'd been a very, very good boy. He told her at one point- according to her- that he said he was starting to forget how they felt." She seemed about to break into laughter again, but somehow contained herself. "Ah." She rested her head back against the couch, sighed, and we were silent for a few seconds.

The album was still playing, track #3, and Nico filled the silence:

*'Cause everybody knows (she's a femme fatale)

The things she does to please (she's a femme fatale)

She's just a little tease (she's a femme fatale)*...

Looking over at me as if for the first time, Selena said, "How did we get on this topic again?"

We both laughed. "I have no idea", I said. "No, I do. It was the Velvet Underground. Venus in Furs. Which incidentally is the next song."

"Right, right." Selena still seemed to be trying to compose herself. "What were we talking about before that?"

"Magic, I think. Something about casting spells?" On one hand, I hadn't been sure how much longer I was going to be able to keep my composure while talking to this pretty girl about kinky sex, and was glad we seemed to be returning to a less erotic topic. On the other hand, I felt a deep sense of disappointment, sadness, even longing, and I tried to steel myself.

"That's right. You were expressing skepticism." She raised a slightly scolding finger at me.

"Well." I shrugged. "I think I'm open-minded. But I've never had any experience with that sort of thing myself."

She looked back at me without saying anything for a few moments, as if sizing me up. Then she said, quietly, her hands smoothing her dress over her long legs, "Would you like to?"

In most other situations, I would have said no, or equivocated. In this case, I said "Yes" before I even consciously thought it.

Her smile came back. God, she was pretty. "Because I have this idea", she said.

"Go on."

"Well. Do you remember when I told you that, when you cast a spell, it only works on someone if it's what THEY want as well?"

I didn't. "Uh, yeah. Kind of like hypnosis, right? Or at least what they always tell us about hypnosis?"

"So you can't, like, enslave someone unless deep down they want to be enslaved. So don't worry. But that's just an example."

"Uh-huh. I see."

"But that goes for things much more innocuous, as well. You don't have to worry about someone casting a spell over you to make you hop on one foot every time you see the color green...unless you've been nursing a secret desire to do that all your life."

I pretended to consider it. "I had a phase with hopping to the color green as a teenager. But it was embarrassing, let's not talk about it."

She chuckled and played with a strand of her hair with one hand, the other having come to rest in her lap.

"But you don't worry about anyone casting spells on you anyway, because to you there's no reality to it."

I nodded, smiling myself. "I'm not aware of ever having had a spell cast on me. But like I said, I think I'm at least somewhat open-minded."

"Well. Like I was saying, I've got this idea."

I had to force myself to breathe.

"With your permission- your consent, that's important- I'd like to cast a spell on you. It's something that I think you'll like, but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

I nodded hesitantly, my legs still inconspicuously (I hoped) crossed- nodded hesitantly even though I immediately knew I was going to say "yes."

Come to think of it, in retrospect, maybe she knew as well.

"Anyway", she continued, "if you notice it in your life- and like I say, I really think it's something you'll like- you can call or text me and tell me your guess about what the spell is. If you're right, then...I guess that means I was right, and it worked."

I was willing to play along. Anything that involved texting or calling Selena in the future sounded good to me. "And so...what happens to the spell then? When I become aware of it, does that...break it?"

She smiled again, slyly, and leaned in closer to me. Almost like we were going to kiss. "Wellllllll...not necessarily", she whispered. Venus in Furs was on in the background, but I hardly noticed it. "If you don't like it, of course, I'll put an end to it immediately. Pinkie swear."

We shook pinkies, smiling, our lips almost touching. "But if I don't like it, it doesn't work anyway- right?"

"Uh, correct. But I guess I just mean that, even if you do like it deep down, as evidenced by the working of the spell, you still may wish to end it. Just, hypothetically speaking. Some things we like are still...difficult to handle. And I would honor that wish."

Gently, she reached over and stroked my hair, sending shivers down my spine. I wanted very badly to reach over and caress her legs, but there were a lot of people around- and besides, I was a little intimidated by her, by her beauty and by something else that I couldn't place- almost an otherworldliness. "You would free me", I suggested.

She nodded, smiling fondly. "Smart boy. Now you're getting it. On the other hand", she continued softly, "If you DO like it, we can keep the spell going for...well, for as long as you want, really. Or as long as I want", she added, laughing wickedly. For a second she seemed about to collapse into a similar fit of giggles as the one that had consumed her when she'd been telling me about her girlfriend's poor unfortunate (?) teased-to-insanity boyfriend.

I wasn't quite sure I understood that last formulation, but I was past the point of caring. And in any case, there was no actual risk, since magic wasn't real. Still...why was my heart pounding so hard? I took a deep breath and said, "I'm ready."

Straightening her shoulders and arranging her legs in the lotus position, she fixed me with a grin- later, in retrospect, I would think that it had looked triumphant- and touched my forehead. Quietly, eyes closed, she said a few words in a languge I didn't recognize.

She then opened her eyes again, still shining and fixed on mine.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"It didn't even hurt."

"Of course not."

I allowed myself to brush her hair away from her face, and to lean in slowly. She returned my gesture with just the lightest and quickest of kisses. "And the nature of the spell?" I asked quietly. "You're not going to tell me what it is, are you?"

She smiled back at me. "No. That's part of the game, silly."

I returned home for the evening, got in the shower, and began to turn the strange encounter over in my head. Or that's one way of phrasing what I did, anyway. The other way of phrasing it- more to the point, in fact- would be to say that I began, in the shower, to visualize Selena's smile, her legs, that moment when one of her breasts had brushed against my elbow. That point at which her skirt had ended and her stockings had begun. And furthermore that I began to touch myself as I imagined this, one hand extended to the wall of the shower to steady myself, more excited by the encounter than even I'd realized, because I was at the edge quick. And yet...it didn't happen. I couldn't do it. It was like some invisible wall was holding me back. It was strange...but it had never been my preference to stand while masturbating, anyway.

It wasn't until I'd toweled off, put on a pair of boxers, laid down in bed, and tried again with the same result, that I started to feel a little worried. Confused.

And yes, more than a little frustrated as I laid there with blue balls, trying to go to sleep, and thoughts of Selena running through my head. My erection simply would not go away, and yet it seemed there was nothing I could do with it. It wasn't just her body- but her words, her smile, her manner. The way she'd seemed to know the effect she was having on me. Finally, without even consciously thinking about what I was gong to do, and against my better judgment (survey says you're supposed to wait a day or two before texting, and definitely not during the middle of the night), I rolled over in bed, picked up my phone, and texted her.

"Hey, it was really nice meeting you tonight." I hesitated before writing the next sentence. "I think I might have a guess about the nature of the spell you cast." I hesitated again before hitting send.

Ten or so minutes later, I got a message back: "I thought you might! Coffee shop tomorrow?"

Part 2

To say that I spent most of the following morning finding it difficult to focus would be an understatement.

It would also leave out a few pertinent details, one of which was that, upon waking from a fitful sleep, with a little time before I had to get up, I convinced myself that my futile attempts to bring myself to orgasm the night before were some kind of fluke brought on by having had a few beers and staying out late (though neither of those activities had ever rendered me incapable of having an orgasm before), and tried again with the same result. It wasn't hard to get started; I woke up hard and aching, and this time I didn't spend much time trying to tease myself, instead going all-out almost from the beginning to try to reach the finish line. I ended up exhausted, lying there frustrated and confused until I forced myself to get out of bed and shower. Selena's words from the previous night (not to mention the memory of her finger tracing circles on her stocking) kept repeating in my head as the only possible explanation...but that was impossible.

One small saving grace, at least, was that I was working from home, and there was no one looking over my shoulder to make sure I was being attentive. I did a reasonable approximation of work for a few hours, and then stopped a bit before noon so I could shave, take another shower (it helped me relax for some reason- although even just casually touching my penis to rinse it brought back the ache and the need that I'd managed to sublimate to a degree over the previous few hours), put on deodorant, and spend an absurd 15 minutes deciding what kind of shirt to wear, eventually settling on a dark blue button-down with a collar, and a pair of brown khakis. I wasn't sure exactly when I'd gotten so nervous around Selena.

When I got there, I remembered both when and why. Selena was already sitting in a window seat, and waved to me. It was the kind of place where you got up and got your coffee/food yourself when you were ready, and she was sitting with a pair of cups already- one in front of her, and one apparently for me. She looked even more beautiful today, even if her outfit wasn't quite as breathtaking as it had been the previous evening. Her dress and stockings had caused me to associate her vaguely with the color purple, or perhaps more like violet, but today the only traces of that that remained were her painted fingernails and a small tasteful pair of earrings that dangled only an inch or two from her ears. Other than that, she was wearing a professional work-type white blouse, a dark-colored skirt that looked as though it reached her knees (I tried not to stare), and flats. She seemed happy to see me. I took a deep breath and tried to steady myself.

I sat down to a paper cup of hot coffee and made a show of breathing in with appreciation. "Thanks", I said, and reached for the creamer that, judging by the light brown color of her own coffee, she'd already used in hers.

"Matt, aren't you going to ask permission?"

I stopped and looked up at her (only later did I remember that I had instinctively frozen the hand in which I held one of the creamer packets) for a second, for two seconds...until she broke into a laugh, and so did I.

"Just messing with you", she smiled.

It may sound funny, but without even intending it, we talked for about twenty minutes about other things. I had less than an hour before I had to get back to work- and thus less than an hour to broach an extremely sensitive topic that I was worried was going to make me sound crazy- but in the moment, I was perfectly content (and Selena seemed more than content) to let the conversation go in other directions. Books, movies, our jobs, our lives. It was almost like we'd made a secret agreement not to talk about the spell. It was only when I glanced up at the clock and realized how quickly time was flying- and that I'd need to go back to work relatively soon, with the mystery of my missing orgasms still unresolved- that I realized I had to broach the topic, seizing on a movie we'd both seen recently whose plot touched on magic. "Speaking of which...", I began.

"Hmm?" She seemed confused for a moment, then seemed to remember. "Oh right. You mentioned you had a guess about what I've done?"

"Well." I suddenly felt very shy. "Here's the thing. If I'm wrong...if I'm just imagining things...then voicing this guess of mine will probably end up with you slapping me at the least, you calling the authorities at the worst."

To my relief, she laughed. "Matt, nothing like that is going to happen. Well. Not the latter, anyway." Twinkle in her eye. Or did I imagine it? "But I thought you didn't believe in magic."

"That's just the thing. I don't. Except that..."

"Wait, wait." Smiling, she leaned forward across the table and looked at me with wide, brown, playful eyes, touching my hand with hers. One violet-painted nail tapped me on the wrist once, twice, then pulled back. "Set the scene for me. I want a story. Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Well." I wasn't sure how to begin. I took a cursory look around the cafe, but the only other customers were seated far away, and the staff were behind the counter, bored teens looking at their phones.

"You texted me last night", Selena said. "Pretty late, actually. Not that I minded. But something must have happened..."

"That's right. So...it was a long day. I got home, and I was pretty...tired, you know?"

It seemed to me that she smirked, ever so faintly. "Tired?"

"Uh...yes. And so I took a shower before bed, I actually had a coffee- I know, it's kind of weird, but I often have coffee before bed- but before I laid down to go to sleep...I wanted to, um...relax, you know?"

A raised eyebrow. She was hanging on my every word. "Relax?"

"Well..."

She leaned forward again, burying her face in her hands, as a fit of giggles ran through her. "I...I think I get it, Matt." After a few seconds, she looked up. Her voice a little lower now, coquettish. "Well, set the scene for me- were you wearing boxers? Were you naked?"

Just talking about this was making my hands quiver. I lifted the coffee in an attempt to take a sip; but I knew that I would spill it, so I put it back down immediately. The frustration of the last 24 hours was taking its toll on me. It didn't help that she was smiling wider now, her brown eyes shining, one of her hands reaching across the table to touch my wrist.

I was suddenly finding it difficult to speak, and worried that people were watching us. Another inconspicuous glance around the cafe however confirmed that I was imagining things. "Um...boxers. Unbuttoned."

"You don't have to be so shy about it, Matt. It's a natural guy impulse. Or so I understand. Natural girl impulse too, but...we can talk about that another time. Right now I'm enjoying imagining YOU. So go on. You laid down in bed with your boxers unbuttoned, planning to have a nice relaxing masturbation session before sleep...oh! What color?"

"My...my boxers?" I was feeling slightly hypnotized.

"Yes, silly."

"Blue, I think. Light blue."

"Okay. And I take it you touched yourself through the unbuttoned opening, rather than going under the waistband?"

"I...I think so."

One violet-painted finger was tracing small circles on my wrist, lulling me into...I wasn't quite sure what. I didn't trust myself to try to pick up my coffee, except with both hands, and I didn't want to move my hand away from hers.

"Did you go fast?" She asked. "Slow? Medium?"

"S...slow. Well, I started out slow, anyway", I added sheepishly.

"Mmm", she smiled. "I think guys should always go slow on themselves. Really slow, actually. So slow that...well, again, that's a thought for another time. What did you...think about?"

I'd been afraid of this. "Oh...you know."

She giggled, her finger still working in slow circles on the part of my wrist where I sometimes wore a watch. "No, I really don't."

"Well, I guess I have a few old reliable fantasies. And I...well, I guess our conversation earlier in the night was kind of...you know, sexy..." I felt myself blushing, a part of me still afraid that she was going to get up at any second and walk away from the table.

To my relief, though, her eyes went wide, and she seemed to be smiling rather than smirking. "I really didn't...I swear I wasn't fishing for compliments. But...I kind of like that. And it's actually funny that you say that, because when I went home..."

Now it was my time to stare across the table, ready to hang on every word.

"But that's for another time, Mister. Maybe. If you're lucky. You were in the middle of entertaining me?"

"Ahem." I tried to regain my composure. "Of course, my fair lady."

I was rewarded with another giggle, and a caress of the back of my hand, which had been trembling for minutes. At the same time, my toes were curling, my legs felt like they were in constant motion, and I had an erection that could have felled a fat elephant pressing against my inner thigh.

I continued. "Anyway, to make a long story short, well, I was enjoying myself, getting closer and closer, until I finally got to the point of no return, and..." The disappointment of the previous night, I noticed, had crept into my tone of voice.

Selena, however, was more rapt than ever, eyes fixed on mine. What did I see in them? Anticipation. She looked like the murderer was finally about to step out of the shadows on her favorite TV show- an earthquake wouldn't have distracted her. "And...?"

"Well, it...it never happened. Somehow I...I couldn't."

She nodded slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"So I...I tried again and..."

She couldn't help herself, pulling her hand back from fine as she giggled. "You tried again?"

"Well, uh..."

She blew upwards at a strand of her air that was out of place- a gesture I found agonizingly cute- and said, "Duh, Selena. Horny guy. Of course he tried again." Addressing me again, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice, she asked, "Same result?"

I was barely breathing, and my voice had become close to a whisper. "Yes."

Her voice in turn became quiet as her hand found mine again. She looked very serious as she locked eyes with me. Now I was the one hanging on every word. "Poor boy. That must have been frustrating."

I couldn't help groaning. "You can't imagine." Since I realize I wanted to amuse her, I added, "I actually tried again this morning."

"Three times!!?" She could barely contain her glee, then looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to us.

I blushed. "Well yeah. I really, really wanted to...to cum."

"And now? How does it feel now?"

"W...worse", I said quietly.

"Worse?"

"Well." What the heck. "You're here, now."

To my relief, once again, her face broke into a broad smile. "You know, that's really very sweet."

"And I...well, I either have to go to the doctor, or..."

For the first time she looked genuinely sympathetic. "Oh, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you so much. You...you don't have to go to the doctor."

"You...you mean...?"

"Let's try this." Her hand pulled back again, and all I could think was that I wished she would touch me again. "Go and get me a coffee refill, would you? Here's a couple of dollars."

I took a deep breath and stood up slowly, willing my erection to go down. I stumbled over to the garbage area where they kept sugar and so on until I felt reasonably presentable, and went up to the counter.

When I brought her coffee back to her, she looked up smiling and patted the space in front of her. "Such a gentleman", she said as I slid into the opposite seat again. "Did you like obeying me just now, Matt?"

"Y...yes", I admitted.

"Good boy. Doesn't it feel good to obey?"

"Y...yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes...Miss Selena?" I kept my voice low, but no one was listening.

"Good boy. Now that you know the spell I cast, how would you describe its effect on you so far?"

I groaned again. "Frustrating."

She burst into another fit of giggles, barely able to compose herself. Finally, she said, "Yeah, you're going to have to get used to that. Or not!"

"But I..."

"I think we should discuss a few basics later. And that might be easier at my place. Get a few things straight about your new frustrating reality. Of course, what I told you last night is true. Anytime you want this to stop, we can. Do you want it to?"

"I...I don't think so."

"I didn't think so." She touched my wrist again, just briefly this time. "I know this must come as a bit of a shock. But I'm not doing this because I'm some evil bitch- well, not too much of one, anyway. I'm doing it because a) I enjoy it, and b) I think it's something you'll enjoy too." Her voice softened a little at this, seemingly hopeful.

"I just...I think I do like this game", I said, trying to straighten out my thoughts and emotions, "But if I had known, I could've...prepared myself."

She chuckled. "I think I know how you would've prepared yourself, Matt. If I'd allowed you to." She shook her head, sighed, looked me deep in the eyes, leaned closer over the table, her voice low again. "Boys always want just one last one, don't they? Just one more."

<i>Always?</i>, I wondered.

"But catching you unprepared- catching you off your guard, capturing something so precious to you before you even knew it was in danger- that's part of the fun."

I was suddenly aware of a fact that the ups and downs of the conversation had somehow kept at arm's length. But now, with her so close that I could smell her perfume and her lips almost touching my ear, I realized I wanted an orgasm perhaps more than I ever had before in my life.

"But that's not fair..."

"Matt, think of this as an opportunity to stop worrying about orgasms. Yours, I mean. I promise that helping me have some for a while will be just as satisfying. Maybe more so, in some ways. Doesn't it sound nice to focus on a woman's pleasure for a while?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Great! Look, I have to go now. See you at 7?"

NOW

When I came back with the icepack, the blindfold was still in place. He was still sitting with his hands behind his back. He seemed quiet and still with anticipation, listening for every one of my movements. He was a good boy. I set the ice down on the couch for a moment and turned around so my back was facing him. I positioned myself over his knees so he could feel the hem of my dress brushing them. "Would you unzip me, Ben?"

"Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

I heard him take a deep breath as he reached up and, after a few incidental touches along my lower back (he was a good boy and didn't let his touch linger), found the zipper on the back of my dress and brought it down. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking off my dress", I told him, stepping out of it as I moved away from him. I gently kicked it to the far side of the couch and glanced down at what I had on underneath. "I think I feel a little more relaxed in bra, panties and pantyhose. Especially now that you can't see."

He reacted as if I'd struck him: groaning, pressing his fists into the back of the couch, pressing his knees together, curling his toes, lifting his hips off the couch and almost humping the air in a hopeless attempt at some kind of relief. Lower lip trembling. Was he close to crying already? Who knew that words could have such power?

I sat down next to him, close, reaching up to run my hand through his hair. I kissed his shoulder through his undershirt. His hands were still behind his back, clenched into balls and pressed desperately into the couch.

Such a good boy.

The fact that I knew he would be obedient made me in turn so much more comfortable, giddy, even light-headed. I didn't have to bind him to be assured that I was in complete control, and that was a beautiful thing. His desire for me made him infinitely more helpless than rope or cuffs would've. "Yeah", I added as I leaned my chin on his shoulder and continued to stroke his hair, "I bought some new lingerie a couple of months ago. Maybe I was even thinking about Locktober, about getting some nice obedient boy in my clutches. I really like this purple set that I've been wearing tonight, lots of floral patterns. It's really pretty. I almost want to show it to you..."

"Please, Miss. Please..." He squirmed on the couch. You'd have thought I was torturing him. I guess I was, in a way.

"Hmmm." I kissed his shoulder again, running a hand softly up his arm. "But do you think that would help you get soft? Do you think that would help your adjustment to NOvember? Or whatever we're calling this game?"

"Well...I mean, ah..."

I didn't think I would ever get tired of his stammering.

"I mean...ah...well, no, I guess not exactly, Miss, but..."

"See?" I was giggly again, kissing him on the jaw. "I'm just trying to help you."

He groaned again, shifted on the couch. It seemed his legs couldn't quite sit still.

"You're evil", he whimpered.

I giggled and kissed him again. "Didn't I warn you, silly boy? Didn't you tell me you wanted to be teased? And didn't I promise to remind you at the best possible moment?"

"Y...yes, Miss", he whimpered hopelessly.

"Besides", I giggled with another kiss on the jaw, "you haven't earned lingerie yet. I still haven't even locked you up! Did you really think I was going to let you see it while you were still free?"

Another groan, another helpless little thrust into the empty air.

"But we'll fix that in just a second. Unbuckle your belt for me, Ben. Unzip yourself, and slide your jeans down."

He obeyed immediately, his hands shaking. He unzipped his jeans gingerly, making sure the zipper didn't hurt his desperate, throbbing erection, and then raised his hips off the couch so he could slide his jeans all the way off. Now it was just a cute pair of black boxers. I liked the fact that I could enjoy the sight of him in undershirt and boxers, while he couldn't see me at all.

I reached behind me for the soft, flexible icepack (it had only been a minute or two since I'd gotten it, and it was still ice-cold), and with my other hand lifted the elastic of his boxers. "And now we'll just..."

I tucked the icepack in beneath the elastic, and immediately giggled at his BIG reaction. Legs kicking into the air, hips thrusting, exclaiming, whimpering...and finally settling back down on the couch with a mixture of groans and sobs. The beginning of acceptance.

"That's it", I whispered, letting one of my boobs brush his forearm and stroking his forehead. "No cumming for you. No climaxing. Just getting soft. Just getting locked." I kissed his ear, his neck.

"Please Miss, please", he whimpered almost incoherently. He was still squirming, but his movements had grown a little more placid. His body was beginning to submit, even if his mind was lagging behind.

"Now you need to concentrate on getting soft", I whispered. "So tell me more about Chandler. What was the first book of his you read?"

I was never going to get tired of the way he stammered when I abruptly switched the topic on him.

With a forlorn tone in his voice, he began with some difficulty to form a sentence.

THEN

Forming sentences even over the phone had been proving challenging for him.

"I...I didn't even know that I could..."

"Stop touching and then cum anyway?" I giggled. I couldn't help basking in the glow of what I'd just made him do. "Yeah, as long as we know each other, you should probably get used to that."

"God", he groaned miserably, his voice breaking a little.

"Why, Ben? How do you usually like to cum?"

"Well, I..." He stammered.

"Don't tell me you like to keep stroking all the way to climax?"

He sounded incredulous. "Well I mean...well...yes!"

"Goodness, how indulgent!"

He moaned.

"Yeah", I said quietly, "we're going to have to put a stop to that. Boys don't get to do much of that on Planet Jessica."

Another moan, delicious.

"I like limiting your pleasure", I chimed happily. "I tried to warn you, Ben. How did it feel, by the way?"

"...Very, very frustrating."

"Awww."

"Like there was such an intense build-up, and then...it all kind of faded away. I mean, it wasn't totally without pleasure, it felt good, but nowhere close to..."

"To how it could've felt if I'd let you keep touching yourself?" I couldn't keep the giddiness, nor the giggles, out of my voice.

He groaned again. "Yes."

"If I hadn't made you stop at the last second?"

"Y...yes."

"Well, that's no longer your choice to make, Ben. Not for now, anyway. And you kind of like that, don't you?"

"I...I love it, Miss."

"Mmmm-hmmm. I'm glad."

I listened to the sounds of him shifting around over there, in the apartment I hadn't yet seen. I imagined wood-paneling, books and DVDs, a couch, a painting more naturalistic than surreal (perhaps mountains or a body of water), maybe a cat. That was how I pictured it, anyway. But he was still something of a mystery.

I asked, "Do you have a cat?"

"Sadly, no. I like cats, but I don't have one." He chuckled. "Maybe I should get one. Maybe I should...I don't know. All of a sudden, I feel like I can do anything. Wow. Wow! You being in control like this, I...and the way you made me...I...I really feel like I could use a cigarette right now."

"Do you smoke?"

"No, not really. I buy a pack maybe once a year and take my time getting through it.

You?"

"For a little while in my 20s. I quit a long time ago, though."

"That's good."

"I started The Long Goodbye, by the way."

"How do you like it?"

"It's almost unbelievably well-written."

"Yeah."

"Marlowe can be a bit of a dick."

"He can, that's true."

"In addition to being a dick. A private dick, I mean."

"And having a dick."

"I bet he got to touch it however he wanted." I couldn't resist. "Unlike some people I know."

Another satisfying groan from the other end, though a bit subdued this time.

"But so far I'm enjoying it", I continued. "Terry is a really interesting character. That friend who you know is kind of doomed, but you stay friends anyway."

"I do like those kinds of stories. Maybe it's a little like The Great Gatsby in that way."

"Remind you of someone?"

"Yes. Except I don't know if I'm the friend who's relatively with it, and only doomed in the long-run in the same way we all are, or the friend who's more immediately and tragically doomed. I don't know whether I'm going to fade away or burn out."

He seemed quite unguarded in this moment. Vulnerable. I'd never heard him talk quite like that before. Then again, we'd known each other less than a week. "Well, stick with me for a while, and I'll try to tell you."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Haha...ahem...so listen, I have two questions for you. One is kind of sexy, and the other is totally mundane. Sexy one first?"

"How can I say no?"

"Hmm. I didn't think you would. Okay then, non-sexy question first!"

His voice was aggrieved. "My god, you are such a tease!"

"Oh, you love it."

"I do."

"Ahem. Non-sexy question commencing. Utterly, completely, totally absent of any sexual content. Do you have any plans for Halloween on Friday?"

"Not really. Not aside from watching Michael Myers chase around some teenagers, and answering the door if any revelers come around."

"I don't have any big plans, either. Maybe you'd like to come over and watch Michael Myers with me?"

"I'd love to."

"Great! Talk to you Friday, then?"

"Wait, wait!"

I tried to play it straight, but couldn't help giggling. "Ben, I'm right here! What's wrong? There's no need to panic!"

"What about the...the, um, sexy question?"

"The what? Ohhhhhhh, oh, oh. Right. I did mention a sexy question, didn't I?"

"Yes, Miss."

"I did, didn't I? Gosh, what a shame, now I can barely remember..."

"God...you're so good at this. I'm in so much trouble."

I giggled at his ostentatious agony. "You sound like you're having some kind of spasm over there."

He cleared his throat. "Ahem. No, no, no, I'm just...just fine over here, Miss..."

"Okay, okay. Sexy question. Here we go. Sexy question, but also serious. Are you ready?"

"I've never been more ready in my life."

"That night we first met...you kind of made a reference to November being just around the corner...as if that held some special significance. As if you were aware of the connection between October and femdom. So what I mean to ask is you is..."- now it was my turn, surprisingly, to feel just a little shy and tentative- "do you know about Locktober and all?"

He hesitated for a second, seemingly a little embarrassed, but then he chuckled a little. "Ah... yeah, I know about it. And it did seem to me that that was what we were dancing around. But I had always just assumed it was mostly this internet thing that didn't exist in real life..."

"Well, the border between those two worlds is becoming more porous every day."

"You're telling me."

"So meeting a real practitioner out in the wild was pretty unexpected?"

He took a deep breath. "You are a practitioner, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Ben, I am. I've done it a number of times, with a few different partners. Not this year, though. But when you said that November was another month...were you suggesting that you would like to participate? In whatever the November equivalent would be?" I laughed. "I mean, I know they already have NOIRvember...you're probably into that, right?"

"Oh yeah, I am. November is always a good month for watching noir, thrillers. Movies with, uh, beautiful femme fatales who wrap hapless guys around their fingers..."

"Uh-huh. I'm so surprised you like that idea."

"But maybe this could just be called NOvember", he suggested, emphasizing the first syllable. He didn't sound quite as twitchy as I might have expected, discussing all this, perhaps because he'd just had an orgasm- even if a ruined and unsatisfying one.

"Mmm. I like it. It's simple but effective, makes its point. And it's something I'd look forward to saying to you a lot over the course of the month."

"No?"

"Yes."

Slight whimper from the other end, gratifying. "I...I love the idea, Miss."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure you know what you're getting yourself into. And on one hand I like that. But on the other hand..."

"May I...may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"If I agreed...does that mean I'm agreeing to...to an entire month...you know, without...?"

I bit my lip. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how far I wanted to push him, how fast. I liked him and I didn't want to scare him off. Then again, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen...and missing out on Locktober had put me in an especially dominant mood.

"I would say...that that is for me to know...and you to find out."

Sharp inhalation from the other end. "That...that sounds good to me."

"Does it? I like you, Ben, and I don't want to scare you off. And I know that you're a beginner. I would say that if, in the course of the month, you're having a real problem with...um..."- I giggled- "being distracted from important things in your life, you of course have the freedom to let me know, and we can probably work out some kind of compromise. But yeah, if we go down this path...I'm in control, you know? There's no rule that says I have to let you cum, say, once a week. Unless you...want there to be? NOvember on, you know, easy mode?"

"I...I don't think so."

"Good!"

He whimpered, recovered. "We'll have a...a safeword, just in case?"

"Of course."

"I almost can't believe this is happening."

"I'd say our meeting was most fortuitous."

"I...I'm in."

"Yay!" I clapped a little, so he could hear over the phone. I felt like we'd just agreed to take a little vacation together. A little vacation to la-la land.

"May I ask how it works? Is there a cage, or...?"

I smiled. "Yes, Ben, there's a cage. I promise it won't be too onerous. You'll be able to shower, clean yourself, and you won't have to wear it in public if you don't want to. We'll be totally safe. But yes", I repeated, lowering my voice, "there's a cage."

"I've never..."

"Don't worry your little head about all the details. I'll take care of everything. Before you know it, you'll be nice and soft and helpless for me. Won't that be nice?"

Gratifying whimper from the other end. "Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

"Good boy."

"So...see you on Halloween night?"

"Actually, can I...ask one last quick, sexy question?"

"By all means."

"Seeing as we're next going to see each other in a couple of evenings...and November doesn't start for another 60 hours or so...am I, um, restricted until the next time I see you?"

"Restricted. Oh. Oh." I laughed, suddenly realizing what he meant. I thought about it. And as I thought about it, I realized that at least a good 51% of him probably wanted me to say that he was. But maybe it would be fun to make him wait a little longer even for more denial. And to find out what he would do, if given the choice. "Um. No, Ben, I don't think so. I leave the matter entirely in your, um...hands."

"Ha."

"You're free to do whatever you like for the next 60 hours or so. Give or take, depending on what time exactly we meet up." He could either try to brace himself for the upcoming month with a last-minute orgasm or two or three, or he could take his chances with me on Halloween night. I wondered which he would choose.

"I guess I'll text you on Friday, then."

"Great. We'll meet up Friday evening, maybe get some food. Watch a movie or two. Then we can discuss what's coming next." I paused. "Which won't be you."

He groaned and laughed at the same time, on the other end. "I was waiting for that."

NOW

When I came back with the icepack, the blindfold was still in place. He was still sitting with his hands behind his back. He seemed quiet and still with anticipation, listening for every one of my movements. He was a good boy. I set the ice down on the couch for a moment and turned around so my back was facing him. I positioned myself over his knees so he could feel the hem of my dress brushing them. "Would you unzip me, Ben?"

"Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

I heard him take a deep breath as he reached up and, after a few incidental touches along my lower back (he was a good boy and didn't let his touch linger), found the zipper on the back of my dress and brought it down. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking off my dress", I told him, stepping out of it as I moved away from him. I gently kicked it to the far side of the couch and glanced down at what I had on underneath. "I think I feel a little more relaxed in bra, panties and pantyhose. Especially now that you can't see."

He reacted as if I'd struck him: groaning, pressing his fists into the back of the couch, pressing his knees together, curling his toes, lifting his hips off the couch and almost humping the air in a hopeless attempt at some kind of relief. Lower lip trembling. Was he close to crying already? Who knew that words could have such power?

I sat down next to him, close, reaching up to run my hand through his hair. I kissed his shoulder through his undershirt. His hands were still behind his back, clenched into balls and pressed desperately into the couch.

Such a good boy.

The fact that I knew he would be obedient made me in turn so much more comfortable, giddy, even light-headed. I didn't have to bind him to be assured that I was in complete control, and that was a beautiful thing. His desire for me made him infinitely more helpless than rope or cuffs would've. "Yeah", I added as I leaned my chin on his shoulder and continued to stroke his hair, "I bought some new lingerie a couple of months ago. Maybe I was even thinking about Locktober, about getting some nice obedient boy in my clutches. I really like this purple set that I've been wearing tonight, lots of floral patterns. It's really pretty. I almost want to show it to you..."

"Please, Miss. Please..." He squirmed on the couch. You'd have thought I was torturing him. I guess I was, in a way.

"Hmmm." I kissed his shoulder again, running a hand softly up his arm. "But do you think that would help you get soft? Do you think that would help your adjustment to NOvember? Or whatever we're calling this game?"

"Well...I mean, ah..."

I didn't think I would ever get tired of his stammering.

"I mean...ah...well, no, I guess not exactly, Miss, but..."

"See?" I was giggly again, kissing him on the jaw. "I'm just trying to help you."

He groaned again, shifted on the couch. It seemed his legs couldn't quite sit still.

"You're evil", he whimpered.

I giggled and kissed him again. "Didn't I warn you, silly boy? Didn't you tell me you wanted to be teased? And didn't I promise to remind you at the best possible moment?"

"Y...yes, Miss", he whimpered hopelessly.

"Besides", I giggled with another kiss on the jaw, "you haven't earned lingerie yet. I still haven't even locked you up! Did you really think I was going to let you see it while you were still free?"

Another groan, another helpless little thrust into the empty air.

"But we'll fix that in just a second. Unbuckle your belt for me, Ben. Unzip yourself, and slide your jeans down."

He obeyed immediately, his hands shaking. He unzipped his jeans gingerly, making sure the zipper didn't hurt his desperate, throbbing erection, and then raised his hips off the couch so he could slide his jeans all the way off. Now it was just a cute pair of black boxers. I liked the fact that I could enjoy the sight of him in undershirt and boxers, while he couldn't see me at all.

I reached behind me for the soft, flexible icepack (it had only been a minute or two since I'd gotten it, and it was still ice-cold), and with my other hand lifted the elastic of his boxers. "And now we'll just..."

I tucked the icepack in beneath the elastic, and immediately giggled at his BIG reaction. Legs kicking into the air, hips thrusting, exclaiming, whimpering...and finally settling back down on the couch with a mixture of groans and sobs. The beginning of acceptance.

"That's it", I whispered, letting one of my boobs brush his forearm and stroking his forehead. "No cumming for you. No climaxing. Just getting soft. Just getting locked." I kissed his ear, his neck.

"Please Miss, please", he whimpered almost incoherently. He was still squirming, but his movements had grown a little more placid. His body was beginning to submit, even if his mind was lagging behind.

"Now you need to concentrate on getting soft", I whispered. "So tell me more about Chandler. What was the first book of his you read?"

I was never going to get tired of the way he stammered when I abruptly switched the topic on him.

With a forlorn tone in his voice, he began with some difficulty to form a sentence.

THEN

Forming sentences even over the phone had been proving challenging for him.

"I...I didn't even know that I could..."

"Stop touching and then cum anyway?" I giggled. I couldn't help basking in the glow of what I'd just made him do. "Yeah, as long as we know each other, you should probably get used to that."

"God", he groaned miserably, his voice breaking a little.

"Why, Ben? How do you usually like to cum?"

"Well, I..." He stammered.

"Don't tell me you like to keep stroking all the way to climax?"

He sounded incredulous. "Well I mean...well...yes!"

"Goodness, how indulgent!"

He moaned.

"Yeah", I said quietly, "we're going to have to put a stop to that. Boys don't get to do much of that on Planet Jessica."

Another moan, delicious.

"I like limiting your pleasure", I chimed happily. "I tried to warn you, Ben. How did it feel, by the way?"

"...Very, very frustrating."

"Awww."

"Like there was such an intense build-up, and then...it all kind of faded away. I mean, it wasn't totally without pleasure, it felt good, but nowhere close to..."

"To how it could've felt if I'd let you keep touching yourself?" I couldn't keep the giddiness, nor the giggles, out of my voice.

He groaned again. "Yes."

"If I hadn't made you stop at the last second?"

"Y...yes."

"Well, that's no longer your choice to make, Ben. Not for now, anyway. And you kind of like that, don't you?"

"I...I love it, Miss."

"Mmmm-hmmm. I'm glad."

I listened to the sounds of him shifting around over there, in the apartment I hadn't yet seen. I imagined wood-paneling, books and DVDs, a couch, a painting more naturalistic than surreal (perhaps mountains or a body of water), maybe a cat. That was how I pictured it, anyway. But he was still something of a mystery.

I asked, "Do you have a cat?"

"Sadly, no. I like cats, but I don't have one." He chuckled. "Maybe I should get one. Maybe I should...I don't know. All of a sudden, I feel like I can do anything. Wow. Wow! You being in control like this, I...and the way you made me...I...I really feel like I could use a cigarette right now."

"Do you smoke?"

"No, not really. I buy a pack maybe once a year and take my time getting through it.

You?"

"For a little while in my 20s. I quit a long time ago, though."

"That's good."

"I started The Long Goodbye, by the way."

"How do you like it?"

"It's almost unbelievably well-written."

"Yeah."

"Marlowe can be a bit of a dick."

"He can, that's true."

"In addition to being a dick. A private dick, I mean."

"And having a dick."

"I bet he got to touch it however he wanted." I couldn't resist. "Unlike some people I know."

Another satisfying groan from the other end, though a bit subdued this time.

"But so far I'm enjoying it", I continued. "Terry is a really interesting character. That friend who you know is kind of doomed, but you stay friends anyway."

"I do like those kinds of stories. Maybe it's a little like The Great Gatsby in that way."

"Remind you of someone?"

"Yes. Except I don't know if I'm the friend who's relatively with it, and only doomed in the long-run in the same way we all are, or the friend who's more immediately and tragically doomed. I don't know whether I'm going to fade away or burn out."

He seemed quite unguarded in this moment. Vulnerable. I'd never heard him talk quite like that before. Then again, we'd known each other less than a week. "Well, stick with me for a while, and I'll try to tell you."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Haha...ahem...so listen, I have two questions for you. One is kind of sexy, and the other is totally mundane. Sexy one first?"

"How can I say no?"

"Hmm. I didn't think you would. Okay then, non-sexy question first!"

His voice was aggrieved. "My god, you are such a tease!"

"Oh, you love it."

"I do."

"Ahem. Non-sexy question commencing. Utterly, completely, totally absent of any sexual content. Do you have any plans for Halloween on Friday?"

"Not really. Not aside from watching Michael Myers chase around some teenagers, and answering the door if any revelers come around."

"I don't have any big plans, either. Maybe you'd like to come over and watch Michael Myers with me?"

"I'd love to."

"Great! Talk to you Friday, then?"

"Wait, wait!"

I tried to play it straight, but couldn't help giggling. "Ben, I'm right here! What's wrong? There's no need to panic!"

"What about the...the, um, sexy question?"

"The what? Ohhhhhhh, oh, oh. Right. I did mention a sexy question, didn't I?"

"Yes, Miss."

"I did, didn't I? Gosh, what a shame, now I can barely remember..."

"God...you're so good at this. I'm in so much trouble."

I giggled at his ostentatious agony. "You sound like you're having some kind of spasm over there."

He cleared his throat. "Ahem. No, no, no, I'm just...just fine over here, Miss..."

"Okay, okay. Sexy question. Here we go. Sexy question, but also serious. Are you ready?"

"I've never been more ready in my life."

"That night we first met...you kind of made a reference to November being just around the corner...as if that held some special significance. As if you were aware of the connection between October and femdom. So what I mean to ask is you is..."- now it was my turn, surprisingly, to feel just a little shy and tentative- "do you know about Locktober and all?"

He hesitated for a second, seemingly a little embarrassed, but then he chuckled a little. "Ah... yeah, I know about it. And it did seem to me that that was what we were dancing around. But I had always just assumed it was mostly this internet thing that didn't exist in real life..."

"Well, the border between those two worlds is becoming more porous every day."

"You're telling me."

"So meeting a real practitioner out in the wild was pretty unexpected?"

He took a deep breath. "You are a practitioner, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Ben, I am. I've done it a number of times, with a few different partners. Not this year, though. But when you said that November was another month...were you suggesting that you would like to participate? In whatever the November equivalent would be?" I laughed. "I mean, I know they already have NOIRvember...you're probably into that, right?"

"Oh yeah, I am. November is always a good month for watching noir, thrillers. Movies with, uh, beautiful femme fatales who wrap hapless guys around their fingers..."

"Uh-huh. I'm so surprised you like that idea."

"But maybe this could just be called NOvember", he suggested, emphasizing the first syllable. He didn't sound quite as twitchy as I might have expected, discussing all this, perhaps because he'd just had an orgasm- even if a ruined and unsatisfying one.

"Mmm. I like it. It's simple but effective, makes its point. And it's something I'd look forward to saying to you a lot over the course of the month."

"No?"

"Yes."

Slight whimper from the other end, gratifying. "I...I love the idea, Miss."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure you know what you're getting yourself into. And on one hand I like that. But on the other hand..."

"May I...may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"If I agreed...does that mean I'm agreeing to...to an entire month...you know, without...?"

I bit my lip. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how far I wanted to push him, how fast. I liked him and I didn't want to scare him off. Then again, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen...and missing out on Locktober had put me in an especially dominant mood.

"I would say...that that is for me to know...and you to find out."

Sharp inhalation from the other end. "That...that sounds good to me."

"Does it? I like you, Ben, and I don't want to scare you off. And I know that you're a beginner. I would say that if, in the course of the month, you're having a real problem with...um..."- I giggled- "being distracted from important things in your life, you of course have the freedom to let me know, and we can probably work out some kind of compromise. But yeah, if we go down this path...I'm in control, you know? There's no rule that says I have to let you cum, say, once a week. Unless you...want there to be? NOvember on, you know, easy mode?"

"I...I don't think so."

"Good!"

He whimpered, recovered. "We'll have a...a safeword, just in case?"

"Of course."

"I almost can't believe this is happening."

"I'd say our meeting was most fortuitous."

"I...I'm in."

"Yay!" I clapped a little, so he could hear over the phone. I felt like we'd just agreed to take a little vacation together. A little vacation to la-la land.

"May I ask how it works? Is there a cage, or...?"

I smiled. "Yes, Ben, there's a cage. I promise it won't be too onerous. You'll be able to shower, clean yourself, and you won't have to wear it in public if you don't want to. We'll be totally safe. But yes", I repeated, lowering my voice, "there's a cage."

"I've never..."

"Don't worry your little head about all the details. I'll take care of everything. Before you know it, you'll be nice and soft and helpless for me. Won't that be nice?"

Gratifying whimper from the other end. "Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

"Good boy."

"So...see you on Halloween night?"

"Actually, can I...ask one last quick, sexy question?"

"By all means."

"Seeing as we're next going to see each other in a couple of evenings...and November doesn't start for another 60 hours or so...am I, um, restricted until the next time I see you?"

"Restricted. Oh. Oh." I laughed, suddenly realizing what he meant. I thought about it. And as I thought about it, I realized that at least a good 51% of him probably wanted me to say that he was. But maybe it would be fun to make him wait a little longer even for more denial. And to find out what he would do, if given the choice. "Um. No, Ben, I don't think so. I leave the matter entirely in your, um...hands."

"Ha."

"You're free to do whatever you like for the next 60 hours or so. Give or take, depending on what time exactly we meet up." He could either try to brace himself for the upcoming month with a last-minute orgasm or two or three, or he could take his chances with me on Halloween night. I wondered which he would choose.

"I guess I'll text you on Friday, then."

"Great. We'll meet up Friday evening, maybe get some food. Watch a movie or two. Then we can discuss what's coming next." I paused. "Which won't be you."

He groaned and laughed at the same time, on the other end. "I was waiting for that."

NOW

When I came back with the icepack, the blindfold was still in place. He was still sitting with his hands behind his back. He seemed quiet and still with anticipation, listening for every one of my movements. He was a good boy. I set the ice down on the couch for a moment and turned around so my back was facing him. I positioned myself over his knees so he could feel the hem of my dress brushing them. "Would you unzip me, Ben?"

"Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

I heard him take a deep breath as he reached up and, after a few incidental touches along my lower back (he was a good boy and didn't let his touch linger), found the zipper on the back of my dress and brought it down. "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking off my dress", I told him, stepping out of it as I moved away from him. I gently kicked it to the far side of the couch and glanced down at what I had on underneath. "I think I feel a little more relaxed in bra, panties and pantyhose. Especially now that you can't see."

He reacted as if I'd struck him: groaning, pressing his fists into the back of the couch, pressing his knees together, curling his toes, lifting his hips off the couch and almost humping the air in a hopeless attempt at some kind of relief. Lower lip trembling. Was he close to crying already? Who knew that words could have such power?

I sat down next to him, close, reaching up to run my hand through his hair. I kissed his shoulder through his undershirt. His hands were still behind his back, clenched into balls and pressed desperately into the couch.

Such a good boy.

The fact that I knew he would be obedient made me in turn so much more comfortable, giddy, even light-headed. I didn't have to bind him to be assured that I was in complete control, and that was a beautiful thing. His desire for me made him infinitely more helpless than rope or cuffs would've. "Yeah", I added as I leaned my chin on his shoulder and continued to stroke his hair, "I bought some new lingerie a couple of months ago. Maybe I was even thinking about Locktober, about getting some nice obedient boy in my clutches. I really like this purple set that I've been wearing tonight, lots of floral patterns. It's really pretty. I almost want to show it to you..."

"Please, Miss. Please..." He squirmed on the couch. You'd have thought I was torturing him. I guess I was, in a way.

"Hmmm." I kissed his shoulder again, running a hand softly up his arm. "But do you think that would help you get soft? Do you think that would help your adjustment to NOvember? Or whatever we're calling this game?"

"Well...I mean, ah..."

I didn't think I would ever get tired of his stammering.

"I mean...ah...well, no, I guess not exactly, Miss, but..."

"See?" I was giggly again, kissing him on the jaw. "I'm just trying to help you."

He groaned again, shifted on the couch. It seemed his legs couldn't quite sit still.

"You're evil", he whimpered.

I giggled and kissed him again. "Didn't I warn you, silly boy? Didn't you tell me you wanted to be teased? And didn't I promise to remind you at the best possible moment?"

"Y...yes, Miss", he whimpered hopelessly.

"Besides", I giggled with another kiss on the jaw, "you haven't earned lingerie yet. I still haven't even locked you up! Did you really think I was going to let you see it while you were still free?"

Another groan, another helpless little thrust into the empty air.

"But we'll fix that in just a second. Unbuckle your belt for me, Ben. Unzip yourself, and slide your jeans down."

He obeyed immediately, his hands shaking. He unzipped his jeans gingerly, making sure the zipper didn't hurt his desperate, throbbing erection, and then raised his hips off the couch so he could slide his jeans all the way off. Now it was just a cute pair of black boxers. I liked the fact that I could enjoy the sight of him in undershirt and boxers, while he couldn't see me at all.

I reached behind me for the soft, flexible icepack (it had only been a minute or two since I'd gotten it, and it was still ice-cold), and with my other hand lifted the elastic of his boxers. "And now we'll just..."

I tucked the icepack in beneath the elastic, and immediately giggled at his BIG reaction. Legs kicking into the air, hips thrusting, exclaiming, whimpering...and finally settling back down on the couch with a mixture of groans and sobs. The beginning of acceptance.

"That's it", I whispered, letting one of my boobs brush his forearm and stroking his forehead. "No cumming for you. No climaxing. Just getting soft. Just getting locked." I kissed his ear, his neck.

"Please Miss, please", he whimpered almost incoherently. He was still squirming, but his movements had grown a little more placid. His body was beginning to submit, even if his mind was lagging behind.

"Now you need to concentrate on getting soft", I whispered. "So tell me more about Chandler. What was the first book of his you read?"

I was never going to get tired of the way he stammered when I abruptly switched the topic on him.

With a forlorn tone in his voice, he began with some difficulty to form a sentence.

THEN

Forming sentences even over the phone had been proving challenging for him.

"I...I didn't even know that I could..."

"Stop touching and then cum anyway?" I giggled. I couldn't help basking in the glow of what I'd just made him do. "Yeah, as long as we know each other, you should probably get used to that."

"God", he groaned miserably, his voice breaking a little.

"Why, Ben? How do you usually like to cum?"

"Well, I..." He stammered.

"Don't tell me you like to keep stroking all the way to climax?"

He sounded incredulous. "Well I mean...well...yes!"

"Goodness, how indulgent!"

He moaned.

"Yeah", I said quietly, "we're going to have to put a stop to that. Boys don't get to do much of that on Planet Jessica."

Another moan, delicious.

"I like limiting your pleasure", I chimed happily. "I tried to warn you, Ben. How did it feel, by the way?"

"...Very, very frustrating."

"Awww."

"Like there was such an intense build-up, and then...it all kind of faded away. I mean, it wasn't totally without pleasure, it felt good, but nowhere close to..."

"To how it could've felt if I'd let you keep touching yourself?" I couldn't keep the giddiness, nor the giggles, out of my voice.

He groaned again. "Yes."

"If I hadn't made you stop at the last second?"

"Y...yes."

"Well, that's no longer your choice to make, Ben. Not for now, anyway. And you kind of like that, don't you?"

"I...I love it, Miss."

"Mmmm-hmmm. I'm glad."

I listened to the sounds of him shifting around over there, in the apartment I hadn't yet seen. I imagined wood-paneling, books and DVDs, a couch, a painting more naturalistic than surreal (perhaps mountains or a body of water), maybe a cat. That was how I pictured it, anyway. But he was still something of a mystery.

I asked, "Do you have a cat?"

"Sadly, no. I like cats, but I don't have one." He chuckled. "Maybe I should get one. Maybe I should...I don't know. All of a sudden, I feel like I can do anything. Wow. Wow! You being in control like this, I...and the way you made me...I...I really feel like I could use a cigarette right now."

"Do you smoke?"

"No, not really. I buy a pack maybe once a year and take my time getting through it.

You?"

"For a little while in my 20s. I quit a long time ago, though."

"That's good."

"I started The Long Goodbye, by the way."

"How do you like it?"

"It's almost unbelievably well-written."

"Yeah."

"Marlowe can be a bit of a dick."

"He can, that's true."

"In addition to being a dick. A private dick, I mean."

"And having a dick."

"I bet he got to touch it however he wanted." I couldn't resist. "Unlike some people I know."

Another satisfying groan from the other end, though a bit subdued this time.

"But so far I'm enjoying it", I continued. "Terry is a really interesting character. That friend who you know is kind of doomed, but you stay friends anyway."

"I do like those kinds of stories. Maybe it's a little like The Great Gatsby in that way."

"Remind you of someone?"

"Yes. Except I don't know if I'm the friend who's relatively with it, and only doomed in the long-run in the same way we all are, or the friend who's more immediately and tragically doomed. I don't know whether I'm going to fade away or burn out."

He seemed quite unguarded in this moment. Vulnerable. I'd never heard him talk quite like that before. Then again, we'd known each other less than a week. "Well, stick with me for a while, and I'll try to tell you."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Haha...ahem...so listen, I have two questions for you. One is kind of sexy, and the other is totally mundane. Sexy one first?"

"How can I say no?"

"Hmm. I didn't think you would. Okay then, non-sexy question first!"

His voice was aggrieved. "My god, you are such a tease!"

"Oh, you love it."

"I do."

"Ahem. Non-sexy question commencing. Utterly, completely, totally absent of any sexual content. Do you have any plans for Halloween on Friday?"

"Not really. Not aside from watching Michael Myers chase around some teenagers, and answering the door if any revelers come around."

"I don't have any big plans, either. Maybe you'd like to come over and watch Michael Myers with me?"

"I'd love to."

"Great! Talk to you Friday, then?"

"Wait, wait!"

I tried to play it straight, but couldn't help giggling. "Ben, I'm right here! What's wrong? There's no need to panic!"

"What about the...the, um, sexy question?"

"The what? Ohhhhhhh, oh, oh. Right. I did mention a sexy question, didn't I?"

"Yes, Miss."

"I did, didn't I? Gosh, what a shame, now I can barely remember..."

"God...you're so good at this. I'm in so much trouble."

I giggled at his ostentatious agony. "You sound like you're having some kind of spasm over there."

He cleared his throat. "Ahem. No, no, no, I'm just...just fine over here, Miss..."

"Okay, okay. Sexy question. Here we go. Sexy question, but also serious. Are you ready?"

"I've never been more ready in my life."

"That night we first met...you kind of made a reference to November being just around the corner...as if that held some special significance. As if you were aware of the connection between October and femdom. So what I mean to ask is you is..."- now it was my turn, surprisingly, to feel just a little shy and tentative- "do you know about Locktober and all?"

He hesitated for a second, seemingly a little embarrassed, but then he chuckled a little. "Ah... yeah, I know about it. And it did seem to me that that was what we were dancing around. But I had always just assumed it was mostly this internet thing that didn't exist in real life..."

"Well, the border between those two worlds is becoming more porous every day."

"You're telling me."

"So meeting a real practitioner out in the wild was pretty unexpected?"

He took a deep breath. "You are a practitioner, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Ben, I am. I've done it a number of times, with a few different partners. Not this year, though. But when you said that November was another month...were you suggesting that you would like to participate? In whatever the November equivalent would be?" I laughed. "I mean, I know they already have NOIRvember...you're probably into that, right?"

"Oh yeah, I am. November is always a good month for watching noir, thrillers. Movies with, uh, beautiful femme fatales who wrap hapless guys around their fingers..."

"Uh-huh. I'm so surprised you like that idea."

"But maybe this could just be called NOvember", he suggested, emphasizing the first syllable. He didn't sound quite as twitchy as I might have expected, discussing all this, perhaps because he'd just had an orgasm- even if a ruined and unsatisfying one.

"Mmm. I like it. It's simple but effective, makes its point. And it's something I'd look forward to saying to you a lot over the course of the month."

"No?"

"Yes."

Slight whimper from the other end, gratifying. "I...I love the idea, Miss."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure you know what you're getting yourself into. And on one hand I like that. But on the other hand..."

"May I...may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"If I agreed...does that mean I'm agreeing to...to an entire month...you know, without...?"

I bit my lip. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how far I wanted to push him, how fast. I liked him and I didn't want to scare him off. Then again, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen...and missing out on Locktober had put me in an especially dominant mood.

"I would say...that that is for me to know...and you to find out."

Sharp inhalation from the other end. "That...that sounds good to me."

"Does it? I like you, Ben, and I don't want to scare you off. And I know that you're a beginner. I would say that if, in the course of the month, you're having a real problem with...um..."- I giggled- "being distracted from important things in your life, you of course have the freedom to let me know, and we can probably work out some kind of compromise. But yeah, if we go down this path...I'm in control, you know? There's no rule that says I have to let you cum, say, once a week. Unless you...want there to be? NOvember on, you know, easy mode?"

"I...I don't think so."

"Good!"

He whimpered, recovered. "We'll have a...a safeword, just in case?"

"Of course."

"I almost can't believe this is happening."

"I'd say our meeting was most fortuitous."

"I...I'm in."

"Yay!" I clapped a little, so he could hear over the phone. I felt like we'd just agreed to take a little vacation together. A little vacation to la-la land.

"May I ask how it works? Is there a cage, or...?"

I smiled. "Yes, Ben, there's a cage. I promise it won't be too onerous. You'll be able to shower, clean yourself, and you won't have to wear it in public if you don't want to. We'll be totally safe. But yes", I repeated, lowering my voice, "there's a cage."

"I've never..."

"Don't worry your little head about all the details. I'll take care of everything. Before you know it, you'll be nice and soft and helpless for me. Won't that be nice?"

Gratifying whimper from the other end. "Y...yes, Miss Jessica."

"Good boy."

"So...see you on Halloween night?"

"Actually, can I...ask one last quick, sexy question?"

"By all means."

"Seeing as we're next going to see each other in a couple of evenings...and November doesn't start for another 60 hours or so...am I, um, restricted until the next time I see you?"

"Restricted. Oh. Oh." I laughed, suddenly realizing what he meant. I thought about it. And as I thought about it, I realized that at least a good 51% of him probably wanted me to say that he was. But maybe it would be fun to make him wait a little longer even for more denial. And to find out what he would do, if given the choice. "Um. No, Ben, I don't think so. I leave the matter entirely in your, um...hands."

"Ha."

"You're free to do whatever you like for the next 60 hours or so. Give or take, depending on what time exactly we meet up." He could either try to brace himself for the upcoming month with a last-minute orgasm or two or three, or he could take his chances with me on Halloween night. I wondered which he would choose.

"I guess I'll text you on Friday, then."

"Great. We'll meet up Friday evening, maybe get some food. Watch a movie or two. Then we can discuss what's coming next." I paused. "Which won't be you."

He groaned and laughed at the same time, on the other end. "I was waiting for that."