Cucked, Caged and Conquered: Part Thirteen (Patreon)

Hi guys, here's the latest instalment. This one's all about the public humiliation as Grant comes across Cohen at the gym for the first time since his date with Travis. Hope you guys enjoy it. Next section after this will (I think) be the climax of the story.

I had this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I headed to my Wednesday evening workout, wondering if I was going to run into Cohen. If I had to give the feeling a name I guess I would have called it dread, except that wasn’t quite right: although the thought of seeing him frayed my nerves, it also stirred up a perverse excitement inside me. I found myself wishing to avoid him but also to have to confront him.

When I arrived there was no sign of him. I breathed a massive sigh of relief, tempered by a hint of disappointment. But as I was doing my cardio I saw him come out of the locker room, and I was hit with a sudden panic that almost made me stumble and fall off the treadmill. Cohen saw it happen too; it gave him a bit of a laugh, and he gave me a wink as he walked past. Part of me desperately hoped that was the extent of our interaction. But another part of me wanted to have to look him in the eyes while he lorded over me the fact that he’d had my husband.

I kept one eye focused on him the whole time I was working out, jealously studying every flex of his muscles as he lifted weights I wouldn’t be able to handle. His body was flawless, totally fucking flawless.

He was popular here too, getting nods and greetings from people as they walked past, and occasional small talk from people using the equipment closest to him. I guess when you’ve got the willpower to work out regularly you start to get to know people at the gym — a phenomenon I wasn’t at all familiar with. I think the way he looked probably helped; I could by the way a few of the guys interacted with him that they were into him, but from across the room I couldn’t tell if they were outright flirting or just hoping that everyday small talk would eventually lead somewhere.

People like him are the kings of places like this. People like me just try to stay out of their way.

At one point a couple of guys went over who he seemed to know beyond just passing acquaintances. Cohen got up off his bench and gave them both a handshake — not the formal kind, but the masc jock kind where they look like they’re about to arm-wrestle or something — and the three of them started to have a lengthy conversation as they lifted free weights over by the mirrors.

Then it happened, what I’d been both dreading and wishing for. I saw him point in my direction, saying something as he did. I saw one of the guys laugh. I knew they were talking about me.

Cohen glanced in my direction and caught me watching. With a grin he beckoned me over. I immediately stopped what I was doing and walked across the room, surprising myself by how strongly I felt the need to follow his instruction.

“Hey,” he said to me as I approached. “Grant, meet my friends Toby and Neil. I’ve just been telling these guys about how I’ve been fucking your husband.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I could feel my eyes widen with the shock of hearing him say that out loud, in front of people. I looked at Cohen’s friends, one of whom was smirking at me in what looked like a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“Why don’t you tell them,” Cohen said. “They want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“Uh,” I stammered, “Uh, it’s true. He and my husband hooked up on the weekend.”

“And yesterday,” Cohen said.

“Yesterday too?” I was shocked to hear that; Travis hadn’t even mentioned anything. For a moment I wondered if Cohen was making it up to embellish his story a little, but on second thought it seemed more likely it was the truth.

“He didn’t tell you?” Cohen asked smugly. “He came over on his lunch break because he was missing my cock to much. Gave him a load and sent him on his way. Looks like it might turn into a regular thing — think you’d like that?”

“I don’t know,” I replied meekly.

“You sure you don’t know? I hear you’re pretty into it.”

It was true. It felt weird admitting it in front of him, and in front of the strangers he was with, but I nodded. “Yeah I do.”

One of the guys let out a chuckle.

“You want to tell the guys why your husband’s looking outside of the home to get his needs met?” Cohen said.

“Uh…” I didn’t know quite where to start.

“Come on,” said one of the guys, the one who’d just laughed. “Tell us why.”

“Uh, we don’t… I don’t fuck him anymore.”

“Because…” Cohen prompted me.

“Because I couldn’t satisfy him,” I admitted. “So he makes me lock my dick in a cage and he gets other guys to fuck him.”

The three of them all laughed at that. “Holy shit,” said one of them, the one that had been silent up to this point. “For real? That’s embarrassing.”

It was so fucking humiliating having to admit that in front of two strangers and the man who was giving my husband what I couldn’t. I wanted the floor to swallow me up, but for some fucked up reason I couldn’t understand, I was pleased that there was no escape. Being humiliated like this made me feel sick but it was such a fucking rush.

“You should see it, too,” Cohen said to the other two. “It’s tiny. I don’t know how anyone could fit their dick into something that small.”

I felt my dick respond as though it understood the reference to it.

“Is that why he made you lock it up?” one of the guys asked, looking like he was starting to enjoy teasing me. “Too small to do the job?”

I nodded dejectedly. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I feel like you’re going to get pretty used to being parked up outside my apartment waiting for your husband,” Cohen told me.

Every part of me seemed to pulse at the thought of it. Still, it didn’t seem fair. I wasn’t sure how many times I could let Travis leave, and have to sit at home by myself without being able to hear the action.

“You could come to our place,” I suggested quietly.

Cohen thought about it for a second, before screwing up his face. “Nah, I prefer you having to do the driving.”

“But—” I argued, before I caught myself. What the fuck was I doing, trying to argue with this guy?

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Uh, no,” I said. “Just… usually the guys come to our place. So I don’t have to miss out.”

“What do you mean miss out?”

“I like to listen,” I admitted.

Cohen’s friend laughed. “Fuck, that’s so messed up.”

“I wouldn’t get in the way,” I assured Cohen. “You wouldn’t even need to know I’m there. I just… you gotta give me something. It’s one thing not being able to have sex with him, but at least if I’m there in the house I can… I dunno… I can feel part of it.”

From the look of one of the guy’s faces — the one who hadn’t got into teasing me — it seemed like maybe I was starting to make things a little awkward. I mentally kicked myself for saying anything, and not just being grateful Travis was getting the sex he needed.

To my surprise, though, Cohen shrugged and said, “Fine with me.”

“Really?”

“Think of it as your reward for doing a good deed, sharing your husband with the community,” he said. “Who knows, maybe we’ll even let you watch.”

“Thank you,” I said, excited.

“That’s what I want to hear you say when I’m done fucking your husband, too. Now, you’ve spent long enough making a fool of yourself, so why don’t you get back to your workout.”

“Yes, of course… sorry.” I turned and walked away, wondering what on earth had possessed me to apologise. As I walked across the room I could see a couple of other guys watching, smirking, and I wondered how many guys had see Cohen make me his bitch. The more the better.

I went back to my workout, thoroughly humiliated, dick throbbing in my cage and heart pounding in my chest. And honestly, it was the best workout I’d had in months.