Cucked, Caged and Conquered: Part Fifteen (Patreon)

Hi guys, here's the climax of the story. Sorry this one's been so long coming - I got a bad cold that took me out for about a week, which didn't help. Also I generally find these parts of the stories the hardest to write because of how much physical action there is to describe: who put what in what hole, what position, all that kind of stuff. But I've made it to the end, and I hope you like how it's ended up.

I think I could have potentially kept going past this point in the plot, to describe their relationship as it progresses - and to introduce more people into the action, like Cohen's gym friends. But I wanted to end this one at the point where Grant gets conquered (as per the name of the story) and a new hierarchy is established. I feel like maybe there could be room for a sequel in the future though.

Anyway, hope you all like it.

I stepped inside. Travis was lying on the bed, also completely naked by this point, watching with interest at what was about to happen.

“Okay,” said Cohen. “Let’s see it.”

I waited a second or two, wondering if he was going to elaborate. “See what?” I asked.

“That little dick locked in its cage,” he said. “Take your fucking clothes off and show us.”

I looked at Travis, gauging his reaction. “Go ahead,” he said, a little impatiently.

I pulled down my trousers and my underwear, revealing the cage and my straining dick trapped inside it. Cohen examined it, his face screwing up into a grimace. “Damn,” he said. “That looks painful. Still can’t believe a guy could even fit his cock into something so small — how big is that thing?”

“Just under three inches,” I admitted, ashamed to say it out loud, although that just made my cock dig into the walls of the cage even harder.

Cohen roared with laughter. “Holy shit, less than three inches?”

Travis laughed too. “See what I’ve had to work with for the last six years?”

“Fuck, I’m amazed you put up with it this long,” Cohen said to him.

Travis shrugged. “At least I got you now.”

Cohen grabbed his own cock and held it in the palm of his hand right in front of me, barely a ruler’s length from my own cage dick, which looked pathetic in comparison. Wen mostly flaccid Cohen’s was longer than his hand was wide, and it was a good deal thicker than mine even including the half-inch or so of thickness that my cage added. “You see this?” he asked. “This is what a cock is supposed to look like. This is what your husband needs. This is why he keeps coming back to me for more.”

I held my own cock and balls in my hand — they fit easily in my palm — and I wallowed in the self-pitying, mid-bending angst of how dwarfed it was by Cohen’s. In comparison to his, my little dick an embarrassment that was right to be locked away where no one else had to bother with it.

“Where’s the key to your cage?” Cohen asked.

I pointed to the bedside table.

“Oh, it’s right here?” he said, sounding a little surprised as he walked over to the bedside table and picked it up. “I thought your husband would have to keep it hidden so you can’t go have a secret wank if you get too excited.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Sometimes he holds onto it, but often we just leave it there next to the bed.”

“And you never want to just grab the key and unlock yourself?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “But I do what I’m told.”

“He’s pretty good at doing what he’s told,” Travis piped up. “Especially now I’ve got him trained.”

“Have you ever come close to just picking it up and unlocking yourself?”

“Maybe once or twice. But I stopped myself.”

He held the key between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up in front of his face like he was examining it. “You should keep it somewhere safe, you know,” he said, still looking at the key and not me. “If anything happened to it you’d be locked in that cage forever.”

I winced, sensing where this was going, but loving every second of the torture. It felt amazing to be the centre of attention for just a minute. Even if it was just to be ridiculed and belittled, it was still a whole new level of thrill after being shut out in the hallway so many times.

“Like what if it bent,” he said, pretending to bend it between his fingers. “Or snapped. You’d never be able to unlock that thing then.”

I could see he was enjoying making me suffer, and I could tell what he wanted from me. So I reacted the way he wanted, whimpering at him, “No. Please don’t.” To be honest though, a little voice inside me was screaming, Do it. Do it. Leave me locked in this fucking cage forever.

“I know somewhere safe we could keep it,” Travis said.

“Yeah?” Cohen asked.

Travis shuffled across the bed, till he was pressed right up against Cohen’s body. He wrapped his hands around Cohen’s neck; I thought he was about to kiss him, but no. Instead, he unfastened the chain Cohen was wearing around his neck and took it off. “May I?” he asked, holding his hand out.

Cohen grinned, and I saw his cock bounce with excitement and start to thicken a little more. It was amazing how much the two of them were getting off on tormenting me. Travis slipped the key onto the chain, then refastened it around Cohen’s neck and kissed him, the two of them both getting visibly harder as they made out. “There,” Travis said when they finally pulled apart. “I think you’re the right person to hold onto it.”

Cohen pushed Travis gently down onto his back and leaned down on top of him; Travis pulled him tight against his chest and kissed him, wrapping his legs around Cohen’s waist. As they made out I watched Cohen’s cock, now fully hard, grazing back and forth against Travis’ hole, now spread wide for him. He gasped, just a little, barely audibly, each time the tip of Cohen’s cock brushed against it. “God, I’ve needed your cock,” he sighed.

They carried on a while like that, oblivious to me watching. It was unreal seeing my husband like that, full of… full of something I couldn’t recognise. Lust, that’s what it was. It just took me a while to place it because he’d never been like that with me.

My dick was on fire by this point, pulsing desperately to be free of its cage. I touched my balls, which were tight and swollen and tender. A man’s anatomy was not meant to be treated this way. Lucky I was under no illusions any more that I was a real man.

“You going to fuck me?” Travis begged.

“Where’s the lube?” Cohen asked.

I rushed to the bedside table before Travis had to answer. I took out the bottle of lube and threw it down next to them on the bed. Neither of them thanked me; Cohen just chuckled.

Travis poured out some lube and began to slather it over Cohen’s cock, only letting Cohen loose enough from his embrace that he could fit his hand between his ass and Cohen’s cock. “Oh, fuck!” Cohen groaned as Travis rubbed the lube over ever part of his cock.

Then they were ready. “Fuck me,” Travis whispered.

They kissed again. Then Cohen glanced over at me. “It’s your lucky day, little man,” he said. “You’re about to see how a real man fucks your husband.”

I got a little closer, moved over to the right to get the best view possible. Then as I watched, barely believing what was happening in front of me, as Cohen’s thick, perfect cock started to push its way into Travis’ hole. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, stretching it out as it went, like it wasn’t even going to fit. Every little bit further it went, Cohen exhaled a little more while Travis’ groan increased in pitch. I wondered if it hurt. It had to, a cock like that.

When he was all the way in he held it there for a few seconds, allowing time for Travis to let out a long, slow breath and relax his muscles around the fat mass that was filling him. “Oh god,” he breathed.

“You ready?” Cohen asked.

“Yeah.”

Cohen’s sculpted ass arched up as he pulled his cock almost all the way out. It was so long; I kept waiting to see the tip but it never came. His cock literally must have been almost three times the length of mine. Everything about this man just reinforced how absolutely pathetic I was. I watched in silent reverence as he pushed it back in, Travis’ ass this time accepting its size much more easily.

Watching them, I had a feeling I recognised but hadn’t experienced for so many years: it was the same emotion, the same recognition, I’d had when I first had sex with a man after too many fumbled teenage attempts at being with girls. The feeling of my brain clicking, and everything falling into place, and that little voice inside my head saying, this is what it’s supposed to be like. Confirmation that this was where I was supposed to be: standing on the sidelines, in physical pain from the futile attempts of my penis to escape its cage, watching two men fuck like nature really intended.

Watching them felt like being in a trance. Their bodies bucked up and down in perfect synchronisation, Cohen fucking Travis in long, slow strokes — the kind I could never have done without my dick falling out of Travis — and burying his huge dick so deep inside that I was sure he must be touching the very core of Travis’ being. They fucked like that for an hour, easy, a sheen of sweat forming on their bodies, the room heating up from the fire of their sex. I could see the key to my cage dangling on the chain around Cohen’s neck, bouncing around, one moment clingling to Cohen’s collarbone from the sweat, the next moment brushing against Travis’ chest as it swung. Sometimes it would disappear from view, pressed between their two bodies.

The noises Travis was making — moans that became more like sobs, punctuated by wails each time Cohen hit some point deep inside him — I’d never heard anything like it. It was totally clear that Cohen was making him feel sensations that I never could. When they started out Travis was reacting with words, but after being fucked relentlessly for god-knows how long, all he could manage was a string of noises. Cohen was literally fucking him senseless.

It had to end though, and I could see it coming. Travis’ moans started to run together into one long sobbing howl. Cohen could sense it too, and he lifted himself off Travis, kneeling on the bed and holding him by the hips as he fucked him even harder and deeper, until Travis cried out, his face contorted in an expression that looked almost like shock, and his cock spasmed and erupted a huge load all over his chest.

I’d never made him cum that hard before. I’d never even seen him cum that hard before. My own dick pulsed, over and over again, almost like I was going to cum myself if it wasn’t for the fact my dick was still curled into its flaccid position.

“Hot,” Cohen said. He started to slowly pull out, but Travis put a hand on his forearm, shook his head.

“I want you to breed me,” Travis told him. “If I can take it; are you close?”

Cohen nodded. “I’m pretty close.”

“Do it then. Give me your load.”

Fuck, that was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever heard him say in my life. My dick spasmed so much that the cage bounced around a little. My balls too, the muscles contracting almost like I was… Wait, was I?

Just as Cohen was starting to pound Travis again, fast and hard as he neared his climax, I felt some kind of climax of my own starting to course through me. It was confusing, it didn’t feel like ejaculating, not in any real sense. But it felt more like it than anything else I’d ever felt. It coursed through my groin and my shrivelled dick. I looked down and saw cum start to leak out the end of my cage. Not like an ejaculation, not in spurts with force, not providing any sense of release. Just a slow, steady stream of semen leaking from my dick like a faulty tap.

It surprised me so much that it almost pulled my attention away from what was going on in front of me. But Cohen’s grunt snapped me back into the moment, and I looked up in time to see his muscles tense all over his body as he stopped pounding and held still. I couldn’t quite believe that right there, right now, he was releasing a load deep inside my husband’s body.

The room was silent in the aftermath of their climax — our shared climax? I wasn’t even sure what to call the thing that had just happened to my own dick.

Eventually Cohen drew his cock out of Travis’ ass and sat down on the bed. Travis just lay there, tracing a trail of cum across his chest with his finger.

“Fuck,” Travis said. “That was amazing.”

Cohen kissed him. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

The two of them looked over at me. “Did you like that?” Travis asked me.

I nodded, silently.

Cohen looked at my cage, then at the pool of semen on the floor by my feet, puzzled. “Did you cum?” he asked. “I thought you couldn’t cum in that thing.”

Travis sat up to look too, perplexed.

I shrugged, as confused as they were. “Kind of?” I said. “Like, not really. I think I just kind of leaked. A lot.”

“Huh,” Travis said, one eyebrow raised. “How do you feel?” I understood the subtext of what he was asking: if I could cum in my cage, then what was to stop me having some kind of post-nut freak-out like I did the first time?

“I feel… horny,” I admitted. “I feel like I haven’t cum even though I’ve leaked out a whole load’s worth.” It was true, I was feeling just as horny as I’d been before the cum started dripping out of me. My cock was still as erect as it could get in the cage, although I could feel it start to subside a little now the action was over.

“Weird.” He lay back down on the bed, and Cohen lay down next to him, on his side propped up on one elbow, gently stroking his chest. The two of them made out a little more, while I stood silently and observed. There was something intimate about it — even more intimate than sex, if that was possible — that made my stomach sink and my heart rate quicken and my cock pulse.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Travis asked.

That was almost enough to make me fill out my cage again, hearing him ask that without even checking if I was okay with it.

“I’d love to,” Cohen replied. “But I can’t. Not tonight, anyway. I will next time if you want me to though.”

“I want you to,” Travis said. I couldn’t believe he’d said it. But I knew that if anyone had bothered to ask me I would have admitted that I wanted it too.

Cohen got up off the bed, only then seeming to notice I was still in the room. “You still here?” he said, as he searched for his underwear in amongst the pile of clothes on the floor.

“Did you like seeing me get fucked properly?” Travis asked.

Properly. Fuck. “Yeah.”

“Do you wish you could fuck me like that?

“Yeah.”

“I wish you could too.”

Was it possible that he was getting off on tormenting me even more than I was getting off on being tormented? He got up off the bed, walked over to me, and took my cage and tender balls in his hand. “How does it feel to know that you’ve never — not even once — fucked me as good as he did just now?” My dick spasmed, trying to get hard. Travis smiled, obviously feeling the movement. “Thought so.” He stepped a little closer to me, tugged at the fabric of my t-shirt, and used it to wipe the rivulets of cum that were starting to run down his stomach.

Cohen finished pulling on his own t-shirt. “Do you want this back now?” he asked me, grabbing the key around his neck.

“No!” Travis said, before I could answer. “I meant it before when I said I think you’re the right person to hold onto it.”

“Oh?” Cohen said, pleased. “You want me to keep it?”

“I think it’d be hot.”

“I dunno, what do you think your husband will think?” He glanced at me when he said it, smiling.

“Let’s find out.” Travis turned to me. “Do you want him to keep it?” he asked.

The correct answer, from a practical sense, obviously should have been no. Who knew how long he’d make me keep it on before I could take it off. What if there was an emergency and I needed to get it off? Who even knew how long it would be before he’d be back?

The answer to that last question was kind of obvious though. I knew I was going to be seeing a lot of Cohen from now on.

And I knew what I wanted, despite what my rational brain was telling me.

“Yes,” I said, quietly, nodding.

“Yes what?” Cohen said, his voice exuding authority.

“Yes please.”

He took a couple of steps closer to me, till he was within my personal space in an uncomfortable way. “I’ll take good care of your key,” he told me. “Now, do you want me to let you out?”

I almost said no, despite how much it hurt by this point. Having it locked away felt completely appropriate now. But I thought about how good it would feel to shut myself in the bathroom and jerk my way to a real orgasm — not the ruined one I’d had — thinking about the events of tonight. “Yes please,” I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

“What was that?” Cohen asked.

“Yes please.”

He laughed. “Too fucking bad. See you next time, little man.”

He turned, and gave Travis one last kiss. “Catch you later,” he told him.

“Call me.”

Then Cohen walked out of the bedroom, leaving Travis and I standing there alone.

“That was fun, huh?” said Travis. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

The next few minutes seemed a little surreal, the two of us bushing, flossing, setting our alarms for the morning. As if we were just a normal couple. As if my husband and his lover hadn’t just spent the last couple of hours bullying me. As if he hadn’t just given away the key to my cage, leaving my dick locked away at the mercy of a man who obviously got off on making me suffer.

“I appreciate the freedom, you know,” Travis said, breaking the silence as he took a piss, while I stood across the room putting moisturiser on. “And I appreciate you being all good with me getting my needs met.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “That means a lot to me.”

“And I love that you’re so into getting degraded. I had no idea it would turn me on so much to fuck with your head like this.”

“Do you mean it all?”

He paused, thought for a moment. Flushed the toilet. “Yeah, totally.” He came over to where I was standing, started washing his hands, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I still love you though. Even though you can’t fuck properly.”

The two of us got into bed. Travis kissed me goodnight, and I turned off the light. He was out in seconds, but I lay awake for a while longer, the events of tonight, and the last few weeks, running around in my mind.

Fuck, it had been a wild ride, and I guess this was just the start. I’d been turned into a cuckold. I’d had my dick locked up in a cage, with no end in sight. And tonight, as I watched my husband give himself to Cohen, and watched the key to my own freedom hanging on the chain around Cohen’s neck, it was clear I’d been conquered by a man that I could never compare to. For some guys, maybe that would ruin them, break them, make them walk away. Not me though. After all of it, despite the angst and pain and frustration and jealousy, I was okay. No, better than okay. I was completely contented.