Cucked, Caged and Conquered: Part Nine (Patreon)

Hi guys, here's the next instalment. This story's up to almost 15,000 words so far, which is much longer than I'd expected - my last five stories have all been in the 10-12k range, and this one's still got another three parts or more to go. I hadn't really intended at the beginning for there to be so much focus on the conversations Grant and Travis have when there's no actual cuckolding going on, but I'm really enjoying writing those bits. Hopefully you're enjoying reading them!

It was pretty much settled after that: from now on I’d be locked up whenever Travis was going to get laid. I hadn’t expected just how often that was going to be though.

Michael had come back for a second round before he left town. And there must have been half a dozen different guys over the next week or so. There was Troy, who’d come over late one night, fucked Travis hard and fast, and seen himself out leaving Travis lying on the bed breathless and leaking cum. Then there had been Vince, an older guy with a salt-and-pepper bed that had made Travis call him Daddy and beg for his load. There had been the guy with the short shorts and the muscly thighs — I didn’t catch his name — who’d come straight from the gym and left the sheets smelling of musky sweat, which made me so horny I could barely sleep that night. And Donnie, the polite, smiley guy who’d made a point of making small talk to me; that had made me want to simultaneously cum on the spot and crawl into a corner to die of humiliation. There was Glen, who was the first one who had a figure a little like mine instead of being built like a god, although Travis had assured me he was nothing like me when it came to what was below the belt. And a couple of others I never actually got to see at all, because Travis had made me stay out of the way when they turned up.

I’d worn the cage every time. And it had worked like a charm when it came to making sure I kept enjoying the sex and not freaking out. It was excruciating, the torture of knowing Travis was being fucked and not being able to to see it, or being able to pleasure my own cock no matter how horny the situation made me. But I loved every second of it, and as long as I was still unable to make myself cum I had no desire to make Travis stop. Once I was caged the thought didn’t even cross my mind.

Wearing the cage started to feel kind of normal too. A couple of times when we knew there would be someone coming over that night, Travis would make me lock up in the morning and stay like that for the whole day. It made it so hard to focus on anything, going about my day in the office with the constant reminder that underneath my clothes my dick was locked up tight. But it was incredibly hot too, adding to the suspense and ensuring that all day I was focused on my impotence and the fact that I was going to be cuckolded when I got home.

After a while Travis bought a chain for the key. And when I’d lock up he’d make me hand the key over to him, and he’d slip it onto the chain and put it around his neck. It was a thrill to know that he’d be wearing the key — the key and nothing else — when he was with those other men. I always hoped one of them would ask what the key was for, so that Travis would need to tell them that he had a husband waiting with his dick locked in a cage. So far none had, but I often thought about whether they ever saw the key and wondered.

He’d make me beg for him to unlock me once he’d been fucked. He seemed to enjoy it, watching me beg like that. All these years of being together, and it wasn’t until the last few weeks I even realised he had this mean streak. This kink of humiliating me. Shit, to think how different the last few years would have been if we’d each discovered our kinks earlier.

Once the novelty of casual sex wore off he reduced the frequency. A little, at least. There were still at least a couple of guys over the next week, and the one after. After one of those nights — this time with this Korean muscle twink called Ray — we were lying in bed, doing our usual routine where he teased me telling me about the sex he’d had, and I begged to get let out of my cage so I could finally feel the release of blowing my load to the story. I was massaging Travis’ slick, sloppy hole, straining in my cage and pleading with him, “Come on babe, it’s killing me. Please let me out.”

He’d been holding out longer than usual, but it looked like he was about to give in. He cocked his head, and paused in thought for what seemed like an eternity. Then he grinned his most malicious grin and said, “Nah. I think we’ll leave you locked up tonight.”

I thought he was joking. “Seriously,” I whined. “You gotta let me out.”

“I am serious,” he replied. “I want to see you go a whole night with your little dick locked up.”

“All night? I can’t go all night.”

He shrugged. “I reckon you probably can. And there’s only one way to find out.”

I pleaded and whined like such a little bitch, but he wouldn’t give in. So eventually I gave up, and I spent my first night locked.

I thought it would be difficult. I was worried I’d hurt myself somehow, being locked up that long. I thought I’d wake up in the middle of the night from the pain of having a night-time erection thwarted by the cage. But I guess I didn’t; I should have known I wouldn’t, the only times I come anywhere near getting hard are when Travis is getting dicked down by someone else while I’m being deprived.

So I slept like a log, and to be honest I enjoyed the thrill of realising in the haze of waking up that I was still locked tight.

When I told Travis that, he seemed pleased. “Think that means we can probably start keeping you locked a bit longer then,” he said. “A few days at a time, maybe.”

“Wow,” I said. The thought was a turn-on, for sure. “I mean, yeah, I could be up for it. Maybe for a couple of days from tomorrow.”

“Why not just keep it on for today?” he asked.

“Gym day. I can’t be locked at the gym.”

A smile crept across his face. “Oh, you’re definitely going to be locked at the gym,” he said. “I mean, we’re working towards having you locked full time, so of course you’ll be locked at the gym at some point. It’s just a question of when.”

“Oh, uh…” I wasn’t sure what to say; I guess that had always been implied, but for some reason I’d never really expected that bit to be real.

“So you might as well start now.”