Cucked, Caged and Conquered: Part Twelve (Patreon)

It's date night! Hope you guys enjoy this section.

It was torture. Fucking torture. Sitting at home, on my own, knowing the two of them were out on a date, and not even being allowed the consolation of being able to jerk my sad little dick to a climax thinking about it. I sat on the sofa imagining what they were doing, and I tapped at the cage, the muted vibrations that came with each tap the full extent of the stimulation I was able to get.

I’d hoped he might send updates. Photos. Fuck, anything. I looked at my phone every five minutes at least — I think for most of the evening I just sat there staring at the dark screen and waiting for a message to appear.

Finally he did message, but when it came it was even worse than I’d expected: We’re going back to his place, it said.

My head and my gut were a mess with panic. I wanted to kick up a fuss, demand he come home so I can at least hear them fucking. But I didn’t. I figured I just needed to accept it. It should have been obvious that at some point he’d go to someone else’s place instead of hosting. And maybe a night of unfettered sex without the knowledge that I’d be lingering in the hallway was what he needed.

I messaged him back, Hope you have fun. I didn’t want to sound needy, even if I was losing my mind with jealousy.

I tried to distract myself watching television. After about half an hour though I was a total wreck. At least up until this point I’d had only vague theories about what they might be up to. But half an hour was easily enough time to get back to Cohen’s place. Even if they hadn’t gotten straight into it as soon as they’d gotten home, enough time had passed now that there could be no doubt they’d be well and truly into it.

My husband was almost certainly being fucked right now. And it was all I could think about.

God, it made me so fucking horny. It was intolerable being this turned on but completely unable to participate in any way, not even being able to listen from the hallway. I felt like I was losing my mind.

I wanted to cum so bad I got a dildo from my bedside cabinet and spent the next forty minutes or so fucking myself with it, desperately hoping that I could make myself cum from being fucked since I couldn’t touch my cock. It was futile though, bringing me maddeningly close but never letting me climax. I fucked myself so long and so hard it hurt, all the time wondering what kind of fucking Travis was getting right now from Cohen.

It was almost midnight, long after I’d given up on the dildo, when my phone went again: Staying here tonight. See you tomorrow.

I felt abandoned. At least he remembered to text though. I replied, Love you. Then I got into bed, dick throbbing painfully in its cage. Travis had the key with him, I was going to be stuck in this cage all night. It was a good thing that’s what I wanted anyway.

I slept terribly. Restlessly, dreaming of stuff I couldn’t remember the second it was over. I woke up so many times during the night, either from the pain of my dick trying to get hard and being thwarted by the metal, or in a confused haze registering the fact that Travis wasn’t in the bed. When I woke properly in the morning I felt tired, irritable, and horny beyond belief.

I figured Travis would turn up relatively early in the morning; when it comes to one night stands sleeping over always seems like a good idea at the time, but feels a lot more awkward when you wake up in someone else’s bed. It’s not like I expected him to hang around for breakfast or anything.

But by mid-morning there was no sign of him, and no messages either. I was worried for a while, wondering what that meant. And then when it dawned on me what it probably meant, I was uncontrollably horny all morning, unable to concentrate on anything at all.

It was about three in the afternoon when my phone finally buzzed.

Want to come pick me up?

The audacity. It was moments like these that made me wonder if he’d leaned so hard into tormenting me because he could see how much I got off on it, or whether it was just because he got off on watching me suffer.

I dutifully drove across town to pick him up. The traffic was bad, and my nerves were fried from the last twenty or so hours of having lost my husband to another man. When I finally arrived I messaged Travis to let him know I was down on the street, and I waited.

And waited.

It must have been well over thirty minutes — maybe closer to an hour — and a couple of text messages and calls later that Travis finally emerged from the apartment building and got into the car. “Sorry to keep you waiting babe,” he said. I could tell by that smug grin on his face that he wasn’t sorry at all.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” I said in an accusatory tone.

“What’s not to love?” he said. “I just had some of the best sex of my life.”

“Just now?” I asked. “While I was waiting here in the car?”

“Well, I was referring to last night. And this morning. But, yeah, we went another round while you were waiting.”

“Fuck, Travis!” I was trying to sound annoyed but the way my voice faltered gave away how hot I found it.

“You know, we could see your car from the window while he was fucking me just now.”

I looked up at the apartment building, trying to work out where he’d been, and kicking myself that I didn’t manage to catch a glimpse of it.

“I pointed you out to Cohen,” he said.

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know if you really want to know.”

“You know I do.”

“Okay.” He shrugged. “He laughed at you. He said he didn’t mind keeping you waiting, because you were lucky to be getting me back at all.”

“Fuck. That’s savage.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

I almost argued, but the way my dick throbbed against the metal of the cage just confirmed what Travis had said.

“Is it true?” I asked.

“That you’re lucky to have me? I think you know the answer to that. Now, are you going to take me home?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I started the car. “God, I can’t wait for you to let me out of this cage, it’s been agony.”

“What makes you think I’m letting you out?”