Under Lock and Key

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(C) 2006 Rachel Gumm. I welcome feedback.


“The weirdest thing I’ve done?” echoed Amy, giggling into her alcopop. “I don’t know,” she said in defeat.

“Come on,” pressed Megan, slumped on the couch next to Amy. “There has to be something that stands out.”

“Well,” Amy admitted in between drunken laughs, “I’ve probably done a few things with my last girlfriend that would shock you.” She took another sip of her drink.

Megan took another swig of her beer. “Yeah, like what?” A sly grin was beginning to emerge on her deceptively charming face.

“Hell, there’s an object of mine that I could show you that you’d think was pretty weird. Kind of an item of clothing.”

“Hey, don’t change the subject,” demanded Megan.

“I’m not,” insisted Amy. “She got it custom made for me. Wanna see?”

“Sure,” agreed Megan, leaning back contentedly.

“Wait here,” said Amy before rising unsteadily off the couch, carefully putting her drink down on the table and dashing into her bedroom. A minute or two later, she walked back into the room carrying a metal object with looped chains dangling from it.

“What is it?” asked Megan, her tone of voice suddenly serious.

Amy paused for a second, plucking up the courage to say the words. “A chastity belt,” she declared before passing the device to Megan.

For a few seconds, Megan held it in her hands, taking in its shape and texture. “She made you wear this?” she asked.

“Uh hu,” said Amy, almost wistfully. “It was actually kinda fun, knowing I couldn’t even pleasure myself without her approval.”

“Show me,” said Megan, her grin returning. “Put it on.”

“Right now?” asked Amy, her voice quivering slightly.

“Yes, right now,” said Megan, sounding serious again.

“OK,” said Amy, sounding unsure of herself. “Let me just get the key and check it still works.”

Amy ran off again to fetch the key. When she came back, she gave it to Megan, who locked then unlocked the device. “It seems fine to me,” she declared.

“It should be,” said Amy. “It was very expensive. But I just wanted to make sure. I haven’t used it in months.” She sighed. “You know, since Clea and I split up.”

“Go on then,” said Megan.

“Go on what?” asked Amy, lost in thought.

“Take your clothes off,” ordered Megan, sipping her beer again.

Amy looked at Megan. Judging by her facial expression, she meant it. Trembling slightly, Amy slid her clothes off, one by one. Megan had seen her less than fully clothed before – Amy often walked around naked except for a towel after coming out of their shower – but she’d never seen her in a sexual context. She’d certainly never ordered her to strip. She felt so nervous, but at the same time, it made her feel truly alive for the first time in months. The first time since she’d become single again.

Amy noticed Megan raise her eyebrows as she slid her underwear off, revealing her shaven mons venus. Suddenly a wave of embarrassment washed over her.

“Nice,” said Megan, grinning. Amy felt her cheeks turn bright red.

Leaving her clothes in a neat pile on the floor, Amy looked nervously at the belt Megan was holding. Megan offered it to her, and she clasped it with trembling hands. Very carefully, she stepped into it, slid it up her smooth legs and wrapped it around her waist. Fumbling only slightly, she managed to click everything into place.

Megan slithered off the couch, kneeling in front of Amy. She put the key in the lock, turned it, and slid it back out again. “Is that it?” she asked.

“That’s it,” said Amy.

“You really can’t take it off?” asked Megan as she inspected Amy’s chastity belt, tugging at various parts.

“Well, I’ve got a spare key in the box, but that’s it.”

Megan stopped her probing instantly. “Give it to me,” she demanded.

“Why?” giggled Amy.

“Because I want to have a little fun with you,” replied Megan, standing up to delicately brush a lock of Amy’s hair behind her ear. For a second, Amy gazed into her eyes, lost in their detail. They were a deep brown and perfectly matched the colour of her hair, only more vibrant. More intense. Megan was slightly taller than her, and Amy had to admit that she was very attractive. Clea had always assured Amy that she was irresistibly cute herself, from her curly hair to her soft cheeks, but she could only rarely see it when she looked in the mirror. Megan, on the other hand, was attractive in a much more immediate way.

Suddenly snapping back to reality, Amy left the room again, then trotted obediently back with an identical key.

“So what now?” she asked, handing Megan the spare key.

“Put your clothes back on,” said Megan as if it was a stupid question. “It’s far too cold to go traipsing around like that.” As she sipped some more of her beer, a smile crept onto her face.

Lying on her bed, Amy slowly opened her eyes. It must have been late in the morning, as warm sunlight was filtering through the blinds already. She looked around. There was no one in the room with her. She let out a sigh, relieved that Betturkey she hadn’t woken up next to a naked woman after a night spent drinking. Suddenly, she realised something firm was pressing gently against her hips. She moved her hands down to examine it.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed as the details of the previous night came flooding back to her. _How dare Megan take advantage of her like that!_ She quickly slid her pyjamas on and stormed over to Megan’s room, knocking on her door loudly before opening it and striding in to find Megan lying in bed.

“What?” asked a bleary-eyed Megan as she moved her head up slightly to squint at her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Amy.

“Trying to sleep?” guessed Megan.

“I’m talking about _this_!” shouted Amy, pulling her pyjama bottoms down for a few seconds to give her roommate a glimpse of the gleaming metal beneath them.

Megan’s eyes widened as her lips twisted into the familiar grin. “Oh, that thing,” she said. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

“Well I’m not in the mood to play any of your stupid games right now. I’d like the keys back,” said Amy, stretching out her hand to receive them.

“No way.” Megan shook her head and sat upright, pulling the duvet up to cover her breasts. “I’m not giving them back anywhere near so easily. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fun? You think this is _fun_?” screamed Amy. “You always do this! You always manipulate people into doing whatever you want them to for your sick little mind games. Well it’s not going to work on me, not this time. Read my lips: I’m not enjoying this. I’m not playing one of your little games.” She spoke the next words slowly and carefully, trying to sound calm. “Give me the keys back.”

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” asked Megan. “Go running off to a locksmith? I’m sure you wouldn’t feel at all embarrassed having to do that.” After a few seconds had passed with little more than vague stammering in the way of a reply, she continued. “Do you know _why_ I’m not giving them back to you yet?”

“No,” said Megan, her voice weaker. She put her hand back down.

“Because I know that deep down inside, you don’t _want_ me to give them back to you this easily. You want me to dominate you just as much as I want to do it. More, probably. You’re the one who kept that chastity belt. It’s pretty obvious that you wanted to use it again. Right now, I’m the only one who can let you do that properly.”

Amy suddenly felt vulnerable as Megan gazed at her.

“When I told you to give me the spare key, you could have said no,” continued Megan. “You could have told me to get lost, but you didn’t. You gave it to me. Maybe you won’t admit it to yourself right now, but you’re _enjoying_ this. Below that angry facade of yours, you’re secretly delighted that I’ve decided to play this much needed role in your life. Admittedly, it’s just a fun game for me, but I’m still fulfilling that role. You, on the other hand, _need_ this. You _need me_.” She smiled warmly. “I’ll give the keys back to you when I feel like it, not a moment before. Now go and do something else for a bit while I get some sleep.” With that, she plopped her head back on the pillow.

Amy just stood by the door, her mouth hanging open. Eventually she managed to say “this isn’t over,” her voice practically breaking up, before turning around and leaving.

“Close the door behind you,” murmured Megan.

Amy slammed it shut.

Amy locked herself in her room for the rest of the morning. She only emerged once Megan had left to go shopping for a few hours. _How could Megan possibly think she was enjoying this?_ She had to get the keys back, with or without her permission.

It was Saturday, so Amy had no job to go to. She put on a tight t-shirt and black jeans, but beneath them she could still feel the steel constantly clasping her, keeping her locked away. It was all she could think about as she made her way to Megan’s room.

Amy opened each of Megan’s bedside drawers in turn, for the fifth time. They had to be here somewhere, unless Megan had taken them with her. She could just picture her wearing a discreet necklace under her top, the keys to her draped over her cleavage. If that’s where they were, there was no way she would get them back by taking them. She shuddered at the implication of groping the woman who was filling her with anger and frustration.

Suddenly, Amy heard Megan unlocking the apartment door. She felt her heart race. Trying to close the drawers as quietly as possible, she hoped desperately that Megan wouldn’t walk into her room as soon as she got in. Her hope seemed less likely to come true with every approaching footstep, until finally the door opened and she froze, still kneeling by Megan’s bed.

* * *

Megan strolled in, wearing jeans and a spaghetti top, plastic bags hanging from her hands. Her face turned from a smile to a scrunched-up display of anger once she saw Amy crouched in the corner. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“What do you think I’m doing?” retorted Amy. “Looking Betturkey Giriş for the keys!”

“This is my room,” said Megan sternly. “You can’t come in here just because you feel like it!”

“_Feel like it?_” snapped Amy. “I felt like having a nice, relaxing weekend, but you put a stop to that last night!”

“I see you’re still not ready to admit you were having fun.” Megan placed the shopping bags on her bed before facing Amy again. “That still doesn’t give you the right to go through my things.”

Amy suddenly realised how vulnerable she looked crouched on the floor and stood up. “I wouldn’t have to if you just gave me the keys back and let me get on with my weekend.”

“You _don’t_ have to,” insisted Megan. “You can just forget the whole thing and do whatever it is you were going to do that’s so important. Is your chastity belt getting in the way of you watching a film or listening to an album?”

“No, but that’s not the point,” said Amy.

“No, it _is_ the point,” insisted Megan. “There’s only one thing I can think of that you can’t do with that belt on. Is _that_ what you were planning on doing all weekend?”

“Of course not!” exclaimed Amy. “But it’s _my_ decision to make.” As she felt her face turn bright red again, she added “anyway, that’s not what I wanted to do.”

“So what’s stopping you from doing anything else?” demanded Megan.

“I can’t concentrate until I get that thing off!” said Amy.

“Because you’re too aroused?” inquired Megan.

“No!” shouted Amy.

“I think that’s the real reason you haven’t done anything all day except sit around moping and go through my things.”

“But I’m not aroused!” protested Amy as she felt tears welling up inside her.

“I don’t believe you.” Megan spoke the words calmly, and that unnerved Amy even more. She sounded like she genuinely didn’t believe her. “Anyway, that still doesn’t excuse your actions. Even if you did want those keys back, you know this isn’t the way to go about it. The only way you’re getting out of that little metal device of yours is to convince me you’ve earned that freedom. And after going through all my personal things, you’ve got a long way to go.”

Amy clasped her arm, a nervous habit she thought she’d given up. She felt so vulnerable, and the worst part was that some part of her actually liked it. As much as she hated to admit it, part of her actually wanted to play along with Megan’s mind games. She tried to concentrate on her anger and frustration, but wasn’t so sure any more that they weren’t tinged with a hint of excitement or even arousal. “So what should I do?” she asked sheepishly.

“That’s better,” said Megan. “You can start by making up for invading my privacy. You’ve gone through all my private things, so I guess I should punish you by going through all of yours.”

“No,” protested Amy. She mentally cringed at her own voice. It had become whiney instead of loud and defiant.

“Yes,” insisted Megan. “I think that would be the perfect punishment for you. Come on.” She grabbed Amy’s arm and led her into the other bedroom.

Amy looked nervously onward as Megan rummaged around in her wardrobe. There was something more to it than just being nervous, though. Excitement. _Could Megan really be right? Did she secretly enjoy being treated this way?_

Megan pulled out another dress and draped it over her front to see how it looked. “My, this _is_ short,” she said, her eyes wide with excitement. She looked like a kid in a sweet shop, given free reign to find anything that belonged to Amy and tease her about owning it. “How come I’ve never seen you wear this?” she asked.

“I guess I’ve never had a reason to,” said Amy, her voice barely more than a soft whisper.

“Shame,” said Megan. “You’d look really good in it.” She looked Amy up and down. Amy shuddered as she felt Megan picturing her in the dress, along with who knew what else.

“So,” said Megan as she put the dress back, “where do you keep it all?”

“Keep what?” asked Amy. She swallowed, and the sound practically deafened her.

“All your sex gear,” said Megan, smiling.

Amy stammered for a second, trying to think what to say.

“Come on,” insisted Megan. “You can’t deny you have any. You’re wearing a chastity belt, for Christ’s sake. You have to at least own a vibrator or something.”

Amy sheepishly pointed to a cardboard box buried under a heap of old clothes in the wardrobe. “In there,” she managed to say.

“Let’s have a look,” said Megan as she lifted the clothes off the box and onto the floor. She lifted the box up and carried it to Amy’s bed, then took off the lid. As she looked inside, her eyes lit up in a way Amy had never seen before.

“Wow,” she said, holding up a thick cobweb of rubber. “What _is_ all this stuff?”

Tearing her vision away from the pillows on her bed, Amy glanced at the item in Megan’s hands. “That’s a head harness,” she explained before turning back to the pillows. She couldn’t even bring herself to look Megan in the eye.

“It’s OK,” said Megan in a soothing voice as she put the device back in the box. She walked over to Amy, who was still looking away. She gently held her cheek, moving her face until they were gazing into each other. “It’s OK,” she repeated. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing that you have all this stuff. It doesn’t make me think any less of you.”

“It doesn’t?” asked Amy tentatively.

“No,” said Megan softly. “I’m just curious, is all.” She put her arms around Amy’s waist. “In an approving way.”

“Really?” asked Amy, looking up at her.

“Really,” she whispered into Amy’s ear as she hugged her. For a few seconds, they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. Without thinking, Amy inched her mouth closer to Megan’s. She expected Megan to let go of her and walk away, but before she knew what had happened, they were kissing each other passionately. Their tongues intertwined as Megan explored Amy’s mouth, holding her close as she did. Once Amy was completely breathless, she finally pulled back. Her mouth formed a contented smile that Amy had never seen on her before.

“Besides,” said Megan, “how would you earn your freedom if you didn’t have a sex drive?”

Lying on her bed, Amy closed her eyes and thought of Megan. She thought about her loving embrace, about the passionate kiss they had shared. Before she knew it, her mind was wondering. She thought about going down on her – being _ordered_ to go down on her.

She opened her eyes again. It was no use. She’d been lying on her bed, caressing and pinching her nipples, squeezing her breasts for half an hour now. She could grope herself all she wanted, but as long as the chastity belt was locked in place, there was no way she could ever climax. At this rate, she couldn’t even come down from her state of arousal.

Well, there was _one_ way. She could earn her freedom, as Megan had euphamistically put it. One way or another, she _had_ to get that damn belt off. If she didn’t, she could be perpetually horny for weeks. Maybe even months. She knew how patient Megan could be when she wanted to.

She checked how she looked in the mirror, smartened up her clothes, and went looking for Megan. She found her in the lounge reading a book.

“I was thinking,” said Amy, “about what you said. You know, about getting out of this chastity belt.”

“About earning it?” asked Megan, glancing up from her book. The familiar grin slowly formed on her lips, and she placed a bookmark in the page she had open before placing the book on the table.

“Yeah, about that,” said Amy. She tried to think how to word it. “How exactly do you think I could earn it?” she asked, looking at the floor.

“First off,” said Megan, “what’s the hurry? Why now?” She looked at Amy as if she sensed she was embarrassed. “Be honest,” she added.

Amy thought for a second, plucking up the courage to tell her the truth. She sighed. “I want to masturbate,” she mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” said Megan loudly. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“I’m horny and I want to masturbate, OK?” said Amy.

“In that case,” said Megan, “I think we can work out a deal.”

* * *

Amy thought carefully about Megan’s deal. It was relatively simple: after becoming Megan’s personal sex slave for the night – she could feel her heartbeat speed up just at the thought – she would be freed from the chastity belt that had been tormenting her for the last twenty-four hours. Then she would have a choice: on the one hand, she could choose to ignore how aroused she was, do nothing to satisfy herself, and finally be rid of the chastity belt; on the other hand, she could choose to masturbate until she orgasmed, but the price was that after being permitted to have a quick shower, she would be locked into the chastity belt again. Megan had even assured her it would be for much longer this time.

It seemed pretty easy. All she had to do was ignore her impulses and choose freedom. Still, she wasn’t very sure of herself anymore. Megan somehow seemed to know more about her sexuality than she did. _Was it really possible that she might cave in and choose to masturbate, essentially making herself a consenting slave?_

In the end, she agreed to Megan’s deal. She hoped that when the time came, she would be strong enough to make the right decision.

Sitting on her bed, Amy shivered with anticipation as she zipped her knee high heeled boots over her hold-up stockings. The only other items she wore were a lace bra and her chastity belt.

She walked to her full-length mirror and looked at her reflection. While she had to concede that she looked attractive, she felt a surge of embarrassment wash over her. She couldn’t believe how her roommate had manipulated her into doing this, but she had to admit that deep down she _was_ enjoying it.

Megan casually strolled into the room, still in her jeans and spaghetti top. Apparently she got a kick out of emphasising who wanted to have sex, and who was doing her a favour.

She looked at Amy, partly with disapproval or possibly even pity, but mostly with desire, despite her attempt to hide the latter. More than ever, Amy felt vulnerable in her gaze. She was trembling slightly, and that only made her feel worse. She knew Megan was the kind of person who would take advantage of someone’s state of mind.

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