Time was passing quickly, and it was now more than two weeks since I had had any sexual release. I was almost crawling up the wall in desperation. Bluebelle held the physical key to my cage, but it was possible that Abigail controlled the metaphysical one. I had to persuade Abigail to convince her girlfriend that I needed to be unlocked, just for a short while.

The opportunity came as I was painting the landing. Abigail came up in from the pool and needed to pass me to get to her bedroom. There was ample space, but she pretended there wasn't, and she chose to rub against me as she passed, her breasts dragging along my back and her hands pawing across my panties. I felt a painful spasm inside my cage, accompanied by a spurt of precum.

I continued painting while she got changed, and she then emerged from the bedroom dressed in just a lemon thong with a matching lemon bra. My penis gave another painful thud, causing me to wince.

She picked up on that and smiled. “Is Puppy getting all worked up?” she asked, unnecessarily.

“Yes!! Yes, I am. I've never gone this long without... without tossing off. Can you do something about it? Please.”

“Would it help if you slipped your fingers into my bra and felt my nipples, Puppy? They're becoming stiff.”

No, it damn well wouldn't help, not in the least bit, yet it was something I couldn't let pass.

“May I?” I asked. She nodded, so I cautiously slipped a hand inside her right bra cup, cupping her boob and feeling its firmness, its softness and its warmth. My fingers then encircled a nipple which I felt growing larger to my touch.

“Gently!” she admonished. “It's very, very sensitive. Go carefully, Puppy.”

Taking her advice, I continued to savour this new sensation, wishing she would remove her bra so that I might see her breasts in their full nakedness and perhaps even suck on a nipple. But that was not to be.

“That's nice, Puppy,” she purred. “Is it good for you?”

“Yes... it's wonderful, but it's causing me even more pain.”

She smiled. “Sometimes there's a price that has to be paid, Puppy. Life is not a bowl of strawberries.”

“I understand, but could you please convince Bluebelle to unlock me? Just for two minutes?”

“Two minutes?! Is that all it would take?” she jested. “Wow! That I would have to see.”

“Please! Would you talk to her? She listens to you, Miss. She doesn't like me very much.”

“Oh, Puppy! Don't say that! She loves you, in her own way. Her bark is far worse than her bite.” I wasn't convinced about that, but I kept my peace. “I'll see what I can do, Puppy,” she concluded, blowing me a kiss.

oooOOooo

It was the next day when I got my wish. I was painting a door when Abigail appeared, brandishing a key and a plastic bag. “Da-da!” she jubilantly announced, waving the key in my face.

“Wow! So, Bluebelle agreed. Thank you, Miss!”

“Not only did she agree, Puppy, but she said I could give you a hand job. Would you like that?”

I was speechless, but my facial expression told her all she needed to know. “There is some small print, though. She said you need to be restrained, but I'm guessing you're okay with that.”

I nodded enthusiastically, and she signalled to me to go into her bedroom and lie on the bed, on my back. From the bag, she produced some thin ropes that I had earlier seen in the garage. With these, she skilfully secured my wrists to the metal bars of the headboard. Then she pulled my panties down to mid-thigh, exposing my caged penis.

She unlocked the cage and eased it over my straining penis giving it full rein to grow for the first time in more than two weeks. I stared at it as if it were a dear friend I'd not seen in years.

“Oh, my God!” she muttered. “Someone's desperate!”

Then, she reached up her skirt and pulled down her panties, pale blue satin ones in a bikini style. “This is a special treat, Puppy,” she declared, as she turned the knickers inside out and laid the gusset over my nose. “Breathe deeply... and enjoy.” Instantly, I picked up her scent, the same scent I enjoyed while laundering her panties.

Gently, she touched the end of my erection with a finger, causing it to spasm and then for me to push against her, hoping to experience friction.

“Steady on, Puppy, you don't want it to be all over in five seconds,” she laughed. “You said you could manage two minutes!”

She continued with her tender ministrations, musing, “You know something, Puppy? I'm tempted to straddle you. You'd like that, wouldn't you, your willy spearing my pussy? I'm getting drenched just thinking of it. Your first sexual encounter!” Was she serious? No, she wasn't!

“Unfortunately, Puppy, Bluebelle wouldn't approve, and I can't be disloyal to her. You understand, don't you?”

“Er... yes... of course, I do,” I replied, trying to hide my disappointment. Besides, the strong essences I was inhaling from her panties would mean that I would probably have lasted no longer than ten seconds if I were inside her.

“Sorry, Puppy, you'll have to make do with my hand.”

With that, she began to tenderly fondle my erection, running two fingers up the shaft, lingering briefly on the glans to mark out a circle and then tenderly moving down the shaft again. She repeated this time after time, varying the speed and the intensity of her servicing depending on my responses. No way did she want me to cum too quickly, and the slightest jerk of my dick signalled to her to back off.

Such were her skills, this had to be something she'd done before.

Numerous times, I approached the point of no return, but she knew the score. Involuntarily thrusting into the air, in the vain hope of gaining traction, didn't help me. She saw my game and let go until I'd calmed down.

How long could an erection be maintained, I wondered. One part of me wanted her to bring me to a rapid climax, whilst another part wanted her teasing and denial to continue all day. And then, with no warning, she firmed up her grip, encompassing my shaft with her hand. She applied more pressure.

“Screw your eyes tight shut and imagine you're inside me, Puppy,” she pleaded. “Imagine you're fucking me. Imagine you're penetrating my girly hole. Now start thrusting!”

It was not difficult to picture her description because her hand was wet with my precum and was sliding up and down my erection while at the same time gripping me tightly. In my mind, with each shove, I was penetrating a firm, young vagina.

Then, suddenly, I reached the point of no return, and I was spurting. Goodness knows where my spunk was going, but it seemed to be shooting out as if from a hosepipe. I found myself yelling obscenities, and as I drew huge gasps of air through my mouth, so her soiled panties that had been across my nose were drawn into my oral cavity, giving me a taste of her own juices.

Then it was over. “I'm going to untie you, and you may go and have a shower. When you're done, I'm going to trust you to lock yourself back in your cage. Will you do that for me, Puppy? Show me how well behaved you can be?”

“Yes, Miss, of course, I will,” I replied, without a moment's hesitation. And I did.

Half an hour later, I bumped into her downstairs. “Would you like to check I'm caged, Miss?” I asked.

“No, Puppy, I trust you! But thank you for asking.” I felt myself glowing with pride at the faith she had in my obedience. She knew that I had come to accept my enslavement and forced chastity, and that I had no further desire to be a free man.

oooOOooo

Weatherwise, it was one of Cornwall's best summers for many years. The two girls were able to enjoy their wish of doing little except lying by the pool or splashing around in the water. Meanwhile, I settled into a routine, consisting of hard work, cleaning, laundering, ironing, decorating, gardening and doing whatever the girls wanted to make their lives easier. Abigail continued to flirt and tease, occasionally giving me hand jobs, while Bluebelle continued to find fault—her tawse was put to much use.

Admittedly, my efforts had disappointed Bluebelle, and the results of my toiling were not what she had in mind—nor what she had promised her parents. Certainly, the house had been completely redecorated, but with paint, not with the expensive wallpaper that had been purchased and which was now stored away, perhaps awaiting the future attention of a professional decorator. New carpets were also needed.

The garden looked a lot tidier. The grass was shorter, and the flowerbeds were weed-free, although they were also largely void of many of the beautiful plants that Bluebelle pointedly told me had helped sway her mother in favour of buying the cottage.

I could tell she was grateful that her parents had paid her in advance. Fortuitously, I suppose, Bluebelle was not the sort of girl to have a guilty conscience, and it was unlikely she would volunteer to make a refund—and it seemed to me equally unlikely her parents would want their money returned.

oooOOooo

It was nearing the end of our vacation, and a baking hot afternoon, when catastrophe struck. Bluebelle and Abigail had been sunbathing, their bodies now a healthy-looking bronze colour.

Unusually, instead of shouting for me, Bluebelle had ventured into the kitchen to fetch beers. She had poured them into two glasses, the operative term being “glass”. When they were poolside, I had always given them drinks in plastic containers, as that was the recommended safe practice. Bluebelle decided she knew better.

I was vacuuming the lounge when I heard Abigail screeching, “Puppy!! Puppy!! I need help, for fuck's sake! Puppy!”

Her voice had a sense of urgency that I had never heard before, so I raced outside. There was blood everywhere, and it was coming from Bluebelle. While carrying a glass, she had slipped on the wet tiles surrounding the pool, and she was now in the water, unconscious, with blood spurting like a fountain from a severed radial artery. Abigail was in the pool beside her, supporting her head above the water while unsuccessfully trying to stem the blood loss.

“You need to do something, Puppy!” urged Abigail. “For fuck's sake, do something!”

I jumped into the pool, pressed my thumb into the wound in Bluebelle's wrist and then, helped by Abigail, managed to lift Bluebelle out of the water onto the side.

“Phone for an ambulance,” I sharply ordered. “Now, Abigail, now!”

Abigail was panicking, but, somehow, she calmed down sufficiently to find her phone and dial 999. “Ambulance!” she screamed to the operator. “My friend's bleeding to death. We need help—now! Send someone! Now!”

As Abigail relayed address details to the ambulance service, so I manoeuvred Bluebelle into the recovery position, while also continuing to plug her wound.

As I did so, she regained consciousness but seemed unaware of what was happening or her surroundings. “What... what the fucking hell are you doing, Puppy? Take... your bloody hand off my arm!”

I ignored her and, in the far distance, I detected the sound of a siren. “You've hurt yourself, Bluebelle,” I quietly explained. “I'm trying to help, but the professionals are on their way.” Turning to Abigail, I said, “Best you go and wait by the road, in case they can't find us.”

The siren was getting louder, and then I heard a motorbike screech across the gravel on the driveway. Seconds later, Abigail appeared with a burly paramedic, still wearing his crash helmet and carrying two panniers containing medical equipment.

Only then did it register with me that I was wearing pink cotton panties and a matching pink bra, both drenched from jumping into the water. I felt myself going crimson with embarrassment, but the paramedic, a true professional, made no comment about my state of dress.

“Well done, lad,” he remarked, “I'll take over from here.”

Calmly, he set about plugging the hole in Bluebelle's artery with a dressing. “Don't worry, the cavalry is on its way. I'm just the advance party.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later, sirens blaring, an ambulance pulled onto the drive, and two more paramedics came to join us. Soon afterwards, Bluebelle was lifted onto a stretcher and whisked off to the hospital.

As the first responder repacked his equipment, Abigail, tears streaming down her face, remarked, “Thank you, so, so much. You've saved her life.”

“No, that wasn't me. It was this lad here,” he remarked, looking at me. “His prompt actions saved her. You need to thank him.”

Abigail flung her arms around me. “Thank you, Puppy,” she exclaimed, to the amusement of the paramedic.

oooOOooo

Two hours later, Abigail and I went to the hospital, she driving us there in Bluebelle's car. We found Bluebelle in a private bay set off from a larger ward. She was sitting up in bed and looked chirpy. Blood was dripping from a bag into her arm.

“Well, Puppy,” she remarked, with a smile, “It seems that there was something you were capable of doing, which was saving a life. Thank you, sweetie!” Turning to Abigail, she remarked, “Go on, Abby, do what you've been dying to do all summer. He deserves it.”

“Are... are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

Bluebelle smiled, whispering, “Never been surer.”

“Where's the... you know?”

“In the hospital safe. Improvise!”

I had no idea what they were talking about, and neither girl felt inclined to enlighten me.

oooOOooo

Back at the cottage, Abigail and I cleared up the broken glass and cleaned up the pool, emptying out all the bloodied water and replacing it with fresh.

“You wouldn't know there'd been an accident,” she remarked. “There's no reason why Bluebelle's parents should find out.”

Then she turned to stare at me, an earnest expression on her face. “I owe you a very big favour, Puppy,” she said. “Do you think we could break the lock on your chastity device? You need to be rewarded and Bluebelle agrees.”

I was taken aback by what she was saying. “Er... are you serious?”

“Never been more so,” she replied, sweetly. “We need to break into your cage to free your willy.”

“I don't know how we do that,” I replied. “With my DIY skills, I'm more likely to cut my prick off.”

She laughed, “Well, let me look online and find something even we can manage.”

Within minutes, she had found a video of someone breaking open a padlock using a pair of pliers where the jaws were pushed into the clasp and then the handles forced apart, breaking the lock open.

“We could do this,” she urged. “It doesn't look difficult.”

“What about Bluebelle? Won't she be angry with me... and with you!”

“Nah! We have her permission. She owes her life to you.”

We found pliers in the garage and took them up to the bedroom. “Lie on your back on the bed, Puppy,” she insisted, “And keep still!”

She pulled down my panties and then pushed the jaws of the pliers into the clasp. A quick tug, and there was the sound of breaking metal. Seconds later, I was free, and my penis sprang to attention.

I was expecting another of her expertly delivered hand jobs, but I stared, mesmerised, as she pulled off her top and skirt, standing alongside me in a lacy mauve bra and matching panties. Then, to my utter amazement, she reached behind her back and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall off. Giggling, she waved her breasts in my face, while simultaneously pulling down her knickers. She was now standing there, completely starkers. For the first time, I was seeing her naked body, and it was every bit as beautiful as I expected—pert, nicely formed boobs and a short, neatly trimmed bush.

Saying nothing, she straddled my face, her vulva covering my mouth and nose. It was obvious what she wanted, and tentatively I thrust my tongue into her pussy, feeling around, trying to establish the topography. It was another new experience for me, but one I was instantly relishing as I tasted the sweet juices leaking from her.

“Kiss my lips, Puppy... gently suck...” I placed my mouth around her labia and did what she said. Her mumbles told me that I was doing okay. I knew I had a lot to learn, but I was a willing learner.

“Keep going... use your tongue to brush very lightly against my clit... ooohhh! Wow! Now my lips again....” Her murmurs were increasing and intensifying in volume. Meanwhile, my erection was becoming desperate for release. “See if you can find a hole... come on... there's one there somewhere.” I tenderly pushed my tongue into her vagina.

Her juices were flowing faster and becoming sweeter. I reached up and cradled her breasts, feeling her erect nipples pushing against my hands. She was getting closer to climaxing. Her respiration rate was increasing, and her vocalisations were becoming louder.

Just as I thought she was about to cum, she rapidly and expertly repositioned herself, and I found my penis was pressing against her pussy. “Push! Push!” she screamed. I did so, and my erection slid into her wet vagina. “Thrust! Thrust, Puppy!” she urged.

I obeyed, and, at the same time, she manoeuvred her body, so we were in sync. As she had predicted some time earlier, I was not likely to last long. But, using my mouth, I had made her highly aroused, and, somehow, we climaxed together, my spunk spurting deep inside her while she screamed profanities. My climax seemed to persist for longer than the build-up, and then we both fell silent, too breathless to speak. She flopped forward and thrust her tongue into my mouth, kissing me wildly.

Then she withdrew, my slime leaving a trail across my groin and then the bed. “My God...” she muttered. “Who... would have thought.”

“Not me,” I replied. She gave me another kiss and then went through to the bathroom, leaving me to clean up the mess I'd made.

Had things changed between us? Yes, they had... but, no, they hadn't. She returned from the bathroom wrapped in a voluminous towel. “Have a shower, Puppy, then get dressed and pop down to the village and buy another padlock. I'm allowing you one hour, and then I expect you to be locked back up again. Buy something a lot stronger than what you had before.”

oooOOooo

A couple of days later, Bluebelle was back at the cottage, her wrist heavily bandaged.

The vacation was coming to an end. Bluebelle's parents' cruise ship had docked in Southampton, and the next day they were due back in Cornwall. “We'd best be gone before they get here,” Bluebelle explained. “I don't want to witness the look of shock and sad disappointment on their poor faces when they see what our moronic slave's done!” She had a faint smile on her face as she spoke, so I guessed she wasn't entirely serious, but I resisted smiling back.

Early the next morning, we departed back to university, Abigail driving, Bluebelle in the passenger seat and me squashed in the rear.

“Despite the accident, it's been the best vacation ever,” concluded Bluebelle. “I've enjoyed it.”

“So have I,” chimed in Abigail. “What about you, Puppy?”

“Yes, I've enjoyed it as well. It was hard work, but you two have given me so much... er... pleasure,” I remarked. “I've loved being your slave.”

“Good! But now you keep quiet for the rest of the journey,” insisted Bluebelle.

After four hours on the road, the girls pulled up outside my flat, and both of them got out of the car. I retrieved my few possessions from the boot, and Bluebelle walked up to me. “I'd best give you your key back, Puppy,” she said, yanking up the gold chain from around her neck.

“Er... no...” I replied, hesitantly. “Would you keep it?”

“What?”

“I'd like to see you both again, if you're willing? I... I could do things for you, such as clean your house... do your laundry... ironing... type up lecture notes... whatever you need doing to make your lives easier.”

Bluebelle looked a little shocked, and she glanced over at Abigail, who returned a smile and nodded her head.

“How pitiful! What a fucking moron he is!” Bluebelle exclaimed to her friend, but her eyes bore a twinkle, suggesting the proposal suited her as well.

“Thank you, that's more like the old Bluebelle! I prefer that version of you, Miss,” I replied.

She slipped the chain with the key back inside her shirt and glared harshly at me. “You're a born loser, Puppy. You know that, don't you? A pathetic... born... loser.”

She was wrong! I was not a loser. I had had the time of my life, and I had lost my virginity to the most adorable girl.

THE END