Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Mr Williams Reminisces

by Anonymous in NYC

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© Copyright 2021 - Anonymous in NYC - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; F+/m; mpov; chastity; leather; vinyl; rainwear; tease; cons; reluct; X

Mr. Williams looked back at the early 1960’s when he was a teenager. There was a scarcity in movies and on television, where the heroine wore black leather or his favorite shiny black vinyl raincoat. His first recollection was Honor Blackman in “The Avengers”, before Diana Rigg took over the role. They were few and far between.

Also, before the 1980’s when the first DVR recorder arrived, there was no retrieval for any of these scenes and the lovely ladies in them. It was a one-time only event that had to be stored in your memory.

Movies ran on the big screen and then faded away. The occasional TV show sometimes had a single rerun during the summer months.

This is no longer the case today. Any scene of an actress in leather or the aforementioned raincoat on regular TV, cable, or the big screen can be Googled with a plethora of viewable results.

That’s not the only thing that is better today than the good old days.

He wasn’t sure when chastity cages showed upon the scene, but they were not readily available in the early 1960’s. Thanks to purchases made on the Internet, he had amassed a half dozen different types in metal, silicon, or hard plastic.

It’s now early September and ‘Leather Weather Season’ as his wife so affectionately calls it, is fast approaching in New York City. Mrs. Williams takes great joy in finally being able to wear her black leather trench coat until May, while her husband is busy doing his ‘chastity thing’.

In an attempt to share in the excitement of his wife’s favorite time of the year, Mr. Williams selects the smallest of his chrome chastity cages and glides his flaccid member into the opening.

Next, he inserts the key into the locking mechanism and turns it, preventing the cage’s removal.

Finally, without a modicum of foresight bordering on outright stupidity, he hands the keys to his wife for safekeeping for the entire eight months of the leather weather season.

Mrs. Williams knows from past experiences that her husband will probably not make it until Thanksgiving, let alone May, before the whining, pleading and begging for early release becomes unbearable.

It’s quite distressing to watch a grown man throw a temper tantrum like a two year old over something he brought upon himself. Still she continues to humor him in the hope of someday teaching him a lesson that he won’t need to watch on YouTube to remember.

That brings us to the keys. Being such a softie, she knows that she will be persuaded to relinquish them ahead of time, once the tears start cascading down his face.

Where to put them? They need to be readily available in case of an emergency.

Far away but not too far? Close but not too close?

“Honey, I’ve decided to give the keys to your secretary at work for safe keeping.”

“And tell her what?” he asked.

“The truth,” she teased.

“You wouldn’t,” he pleaded.

“Probably not. But it’s either your secretary or my sister?”

“If I had my druthers, my secretary would be the lesser of two evils,” he whined.

How to deliver the keys? In person? FedEx? What kind of explanation?

Mrs. Williams hoped that a plausible explanation would somehow occur to her as she arrived at her husband’s office around noon while he was out at a business luncheon.

She knocked on the open office door.

“Please come in and sit down. I’ll be off this call in a minute.” The strikingly sexy fifty year old secretary announced as she continued talking on the phone.

“Really! Sometimes I wonder if your annual alimony payment of $80,000 is enough to cover your monthly sniveling.”

Mrs. Williams gestured as if she should wait outside in the hallway.

The secretary placed her hand over the phone’s mouthpiece and insisted, “Please don’t get up. I won’t be much longer,” before continuing to scold whomever was on the other end of the line. “I don’t care. You can’t have the keys.”

“The keys are part of our divorce settlement. They’re like the family dog. I get custody of them for eight months out of the year.”

“Furthermore, you made me sign an affidavit swearing that I would not lose them, and more importantly would not relinquish them before the preset time had expired.”

Mrs. Williams couldn’t believe her ears as she heard the words ‘keys, relinquish, preset time’. Words that she herself had uttered many times.

“I have a good mind to toss them. Or better yet, give them to your first ex-wife.”

What a great threat, Mrs. Williams thought to herself.

“Man up. There’s only four more months to go, before you get your keys back.”

Mrs. Williams sat in awe as her husband’s secretary hung up the phone.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you Mrs. Williams.” The 6’2” tall secretary said, while standing up and extending her hand across the desk.

“Am I wearing a name tag that says ‘Hello my name is XYZ’?” Mrs. Williams joked.

“Your coat betrayed you. Mr. Williams has a photo on his desk of you wearing that black leather trench coat cinched tightly around your waist.”

The secretary continued. “I have the exact same coat. My ex-husband also liked mine tightly cinched. It appears that they have similar tastes.”

“So it would seem,” Mrs. Williams said while slowly taking the keys out of her shiny black patent leather tote and placing them on the desk.

“Mrs. Williams I have a tote exactly like yours. It’s as if your husband has two wives. One at home. Another at the office.

“Perhaps he needs that many?” As she slowly pushed the keys across the desk while declaring without an explanation. “I think it best if his office wife held onto these until May.”

“It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Williams,” the secretary responded with an all-knowing smile.

“I should warn you that my husband is capable of sniveling as much if not more as your ex-husband.”

“They all do, once someone has possession of their precious keys. I imagine that your husband is no different, if these keys unlock what I think they do?”

Mrs. Williams returned the previous smile without having to say another word.

“She took the keys and you told her what?” He asked in disbelief when he arrived home that night.

“I didn’t have to tell her anything. I gave her the keys and asked her to hold them until May.”

“That was it?” he asked in disbelief.

“There was no need to say anything. The phone call told me everything.”

“What call?”

“The one she was having with her ex-husband when I entered her office.”

“Could you possibly be less evasive?” her distraught husband begged.

“OK. I’ll give you a brief synopsis of the call. She’s divorced. Gets $80,000 a year in alimony. Part of the divorce agreement states that each year she must take possession of some important keys for a preset period of eight months.”

“And that was all you needed?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s all I needed. Tomorrow if you like, you can interrogate her in greater depth.”

“I just might,” he snapped.

“Just a few suggestions, if I may?” Mrs. Williams offered.

“Her ex-husband snivels just like you. You might refrain from that approach.”

“Finally, from what I’ve ascertained from my initial meeting with your secretary, I can only imagine what would happen if you threatened to fire her in the hope of getting your keys back. They might end up in the East River.”

Mr. Williams arrived at the lobby of his office building the next morning just as the rain was letting up. He entered the elevator and politely held its door for the next passenger who squeezed herself into the packed car directly in front of him.

They stood face to face, unable to turn around, as the elevator doors slid closed against her back.

Face to face would be a misnomer in that she was a good six inches taller than him, in her two inch heeled rain boots.

This height disparity forced his eyes to come to rest directly upon her vinyl covered breasts.

“Thank you Mr. Williams for holding the door for me,” she announced for all to hear as the scent of her new shiny black vinyl rainwear permeated the far corners of the elevator.

“It’s the least I could do,” he stammered as the smell engulfed his face.

“Mr. Williams, you’re being too modest. I’m quite sure you would do much more if I asked. Wouldn’t you?”

That was game, set, and match.

That first month, as merciless as it was for his secretary to wear one of his favorite black vinyl outfits when it rained, it was far worse on the sunny days when she left them at home.

“Do you think it will rain tomorrow, Mr. Williams?” was her favorite tease.

She then followed up with one provocative comment after another.

“I never seem to guess right, and you’re absolutely no help whatsoever,” she scolded.

“Today was sunny, but I nevertheless showed up for work wearing one of my shiny black vinyl raincoats, all because you told me it was going to rain.”

“Sometimes, I think you do it on purpose?”

“So how did things go this past month at the office?” Mrs. Williams quizzed her husband at dinner. “Any problems? Does your secretary still have your keys? Any confrontations that I should be made aware of?”

“Today, I asked for the keys back,” he announced.

“How did that go?”

“Not well,” he groaned before continuing, “I stopped asking and demanded the keys back.”

“How did that approach work?” Mrs. Williams asked, while pleased at his apparent discomfort.

“Not well,” he repeated.

“What did she do?”

“Nothing, she just left without saying a word.”

“Did she quit?” Mrs. Williams asked, somewhat concerned.

“I’m not sure?”

The next morning his secretary walked into his office and read the riot act to Mr. Williams.

“I have possession of your precious keys until May. I’d advise you not to test my patience on the subject.” Then she turned and walked out.

“Knowing you like I do, you had to test her patience. Didn’t you?” his wife asked at dinner that night.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he pleaded for understanding.

“What was her response?”

“No rainwear for an entire month.”

“What?” His wife shouted in horror.

During this past month, it had become readily apparent to Mrs. Williams, that the shiny black vinyl rainwear at the office provided the spark that ignited her husband’s desire to perform nightly cunnilingus at home.

“I’ll handle this myself,” Mrs. Williams insisted.

“You’ll get the keys back?” he asked, hopefully.

“Probably not. But you can rest assured that I’ll get the rainwear ban lifted.”

Of course she got the ban lifted. The keys were another matter.

As inconceivable as it might sound, Mr. Williams was able to survive until May, without having a meltdown caused by the daily encounters with his seductively attired secretary.

What’s far more mind-boggling? The following September after being out of the chastity cage for the last four months, he had the chutzpah to announce to his wife, “it’s leather weather time.”

After securing himself in the cage he held up the keys and offered. “I can bring them to the office. It would save you a trip.”

While Mr. and Mrs. Williams both relished another fall and winter of him being constantly aroused at the office by his secretary, it was Mrs. Williams who thought it best if there was a new keyholder to remove any possibility of her husband upsetting the apple cart and ruining her nightly pleasure.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but you and I know how easily you can change your mind, when it comes to those keys,” she admonished while snatching them from his hand.

Mr. Williams just assumed that his secretary would be given the keys, but was soon to learn otherwise.

“Um…” he stammered after two days had passed.

“Yes? Mr. Williams,” his secretary asked.

“Did my wife leave anything with you?”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“The keys that she gave you last September?”

“Oh, those silly things.”

“Yes, those,” he stammered.

“No, she didn’t give them to me. She did call though.”

“May I ask what she said?”

“Of course, Mr. Williams. It’s not top secret.”

“Your wife told me she has made other plans for the keys this fall.”

“Anything else?” he demanded impatiently.

“Mr. Williams, your tone?” she admonished.

“I’m sorry. Please tell me what my wife said?” he begged softly.

“Mrs. Williams informed me that this year the Weather Almanac forecasts an extremely wet fall and winter for NYC. I got the distinct impression that she was ecstatic about the forecast.”

“Then she practically demanded that I dress accordingly to protect myself. Very thoughtful of her, don’t you think?” his secretary added teasingly.

Mr. Williams wouldn’t have long to locate his keys.

“Hi, it’s your sister-in-law,” as she jingled the keys in the background during her phone call in order to get his undivided attention.

“Yes. I have them but there’s no need to worry.”

“I’ll take good care of them for a price.”

“What price?” he asked, stunned.

“I expect you to be at my riding academy one weekend a month until next May.”

“Or what?” he demanded.

“Or, I’ll throw your precious keys into the huge manure pile. It’s your choice. I don’t care. either way is fine with me.”


Please stay tuned for Mr. Williams Visits the Riding Academy.

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