Chapter 176: The Cat that got the Cream
The sound of the other cucks shuffling out, the soft click of doors, left Rupert in a void more profound than the hood could create. He was adrift, anchored only by the plastic chair and Ruby’s lingering presence. He could feel her stillness, a patient, predatory silence that wrapped around him tighter than any restraint.Then, her fingers were at the back of his head, loosening the strap. The hood didn’t come off. Instead, she maneuvered it, his world a blur of indistinct light and shadow for a split second before she secured it again, but looser, allowing a sliver of vision at the very bottom. He could see his own bare thighs, the polished floor, Ruby’s black stiletto boots as she moved.
“You don’t get to go back with the others yet, ‘Blue’,” she said, her voice conversational as she knelt. He felt the cold snick of a key at the lock securing him to the chair. The pressure on his ankles and wrists released.“Up.”
He stood, unsteady. His legs were numb. The plastic cage around his groin felt heavier than ever, a ludicrous, humiliating weight.“Hands,” she commanded.He held them out, trembling slightly. From a small table, she picked up a pair of heavy, padded mitts. They were black leather, with complex straps and buckles. She took his right hand first, folding his fingers into a powerless fist before encasing it in the stiff leather, pulling straps tight around his wrist, then his forearm. She did the same with his left. When she was done, his hands were rendered into useless, padded clubs.He couldn’t grasp, couldn’t touch, couldn’t feel anything with precision.
“Can’t have you grabbing at anything,” she said, giving one mitt a pat. “Tonight’s entertainment isn’t quite over.One of our hotwives won a little game today. A scavenger hunt with… creative forfeits.Her prize was a special session. She wanted to use a strap-on.And she wanted a… compliant partner.”
Rupert’s stomach dropped. The sliver of his vision showed Ruby’s boots turning toward the suite door.
“Lucky you,” she finished.The door opened, and a woman walked in. Rupert’s lowered gaze caught her feet first: red toenails in delicate gold sandals, the hem of a silky emerald green robe.The robe swished as she moved.“Ruby! Is this him?” The voice was bright, amused.It was ‘Crimson’. He remembered her from earlier—the second wife, whose performance had been slow, achingly deliberate.“The very same,” Ruby said. “All prepped and pre-denied.He’s been locked since Christmas. And he’s hooded, so he’s nice and disoriented. Perfect for you.”
‘Crimson’ came closer. Rupert could see her painted toes now, the expensive perfume cutting through the room’s heavier scent.She untied her robe and let it slide from her shoulders. It pooled on the floor. His eyes, straining downward, saw the curve of her hips, the pale skin of her thighs.She was wearing a black lace corset, stockings, and nothing else.
“Oh, he’s perfect,” she cooed.She stepped so close he could feel her body heat. A hand—soft, manicured—cupped his hooded cheek.“Hello, sweetie. You’re going to help me feel very good tonight.”
From behind him, Ruby spoke.“The bench is set up. You want him bent over it, I assume?”
“Absolutely,” Crimson said, her hand trailing down Rupert’s chest to give the plastic chastity device a mocking little tap.It twanged against his trapped flesh.“Such a pretty little cage. All that frustration, backed up with nowhere to go. It’s going to make this so much more intense for you, isn’t it?”
She guided him, a firm push between his shoulder blades. His mittened hands were useless for balance. He stumbled forward until his thighs hit a low, upholstered bench.It was covered in cool leather.
“Over you go,” Ruby instructed, her voice losing its playful edge. He bent, his mitts slipping on the surface until Ruby grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down firmly, his chest flat on the bench, his ass raised and exposed. She used wide, soft leather cuffs to secure his ankles to the legs of the bench, then did the same with his wrists, spreading him open, helpless.“There we are,” Crimson said. He heard the clink of metal, the rustle of harness straps. “I chose a beautiful one.Deep purple silicone.Realistic vein texture, of course.Nice and thick.” She chuckled. “Thicker than my husband’s, that’s for sure. Not as thick as my bull’s, but that’s okay. This is for a different kind of fun.”
Ruby’s voice was close to his hooded ear.“She’s lubing it up now. A whole lot of lube.Slick, cold. She’s smoothing it all over the shaft with her hands.It’s glistening.”
He heard the wet, slick sounds. His heart hammered against the leather bench.
“And now she’s behind you,” Ruby continued, her narration detached, clinical.“She’s spreading your ass cheeks. You’re very exposed.She’s putting the tip right against your little hole.You’re clenched shut. But we’ll fix that.”
“Relax, sweetie,” Crimson purred. Then, without further warning, she pushed. The broad, slick, silicone head pressed against his anus, a blunt, impossible pressure.He cried out, a muffled sound in the hood.
“He’s tight!” Crimson laughed, a sound of genuine delight.“He should be,” Ruby replied. “Now push.”
Crimson applied more steady force. Rupert gritted his teeth, a strangled groan escaping him. There was a burning, stretching sensation, a profound violation as the silicone head began to pop past his resisting muscle. It breached him with a sickening, yielding pressure, and then an inch of the thick shaft was inside him, a burning, full feeling that stole his breath.
“There we go!” Crimson said, breathless herself. “Oh, that’s a good stretch.” She pulled back slightly, then pushed again, sinking another inch deeper. The slow, relentless invasion was agony and something else, a deep, internal pressure that radiated through his pelvis.
Ruby kept talking, her words painting the picture he couldn’t see.“She’s getting a good rhythm now. In and out.Your hole is stretched wide around that purple cock. It’s shining with lube.Every time she thrusts in, your body jerks. You’re making the cutest little choked sounds.”
“God, I can feel everything,” Crimson moaned, her hands gripping his hips now.Her thrusts became more confident, harder. The dildo plunged deeper, hitting a spot inside him that made his legs twitch. A sharp, electric jolt shot through his groin.“That’s his prostate,” Ruby said, satisfaction in her tone.“See? His little cage is dripping.Look at that.Clear pre-come, just leaking out of him. He’s getting fucked in the ass and his useless dick is trying to cum. It’s so pathetic. It’s perfect.”
The pressure on that internal spot was constant now, a relentless, battering stimulation that bordered on pain but tipped over into a bizarre, shameful pleasure. Each thrust sent a wave of sensation through his locked, aching penis. He was leaking copiously, a steady drip pattering onto the leather bench beneath him. He couldn’t stop the moans now, short, helpless gasps that echoed in the confinement of his hood.
“You like that, don’t you?” Crimson panted, picking up her pace. The slap of the harness against his ass filled the room, a rhythmic counterpoint to her grunts and his muffled cries. “You like being my little fuck-toy?Taking this fake cock like a good boy? This is my prize!This is for me!”
Her words dissolved into incoherent sounds of pleasure. She was using him, thoroughly, selfishly. The dildo pistoned into him, the burn now a dull, full ache, the prostate stimulation a continuous, maddening current. The humiliation was total.The pleasure was undeniable.They twisted together inside him, a knot of utter degradation.
“He’s close,” Ruby observed calmly.“He’s shaking.Look at his back muscles. He’s going to have a hands-free orgasm in his cage. What a mess that will be.”
The coil inside Rupert tightened to breaking. The world narrowed to the pounding in his ass, the electric fire in his groin, the dripping proof of his shame. With a final, deep thrust from Crimson that seemed to spear him through, the coil snapped.His body locked in a rigid spasm. A silent scream tore through his throat. His caged penis convulsed, not with the pulsing release of orgasm, but with a series of violent, dry heaves. A thin, watery trickle of fluid—not semen, but something else—spurted from the tip, followed by more clear, sticky leaks. It was a ruined, agonizing climax, pleasure ripped from him through the wrong channel, leaving him trembling and utterly spent.
Crimson gave a final, satisfied sigh and pulled out.The sudden emptiness was almost as shocking as the invasion.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed, unbuckling the harness.“That was fucking incredible. Thank you, Ruby.”
“My pleasure,” Ruby said.He heard her moving, felt her unbuckling his cuffs. “Get yourself cleaned up, ‘Crimson’. I’ll take care of our little prize here.”
Crimson’s footsteps receded.A door closed. Rupert lay over the bench, boneless, dripping, a hollow shell filled with shame.Ruby yanked the hood off. The light of the suite was blinding. She didn’t look at his face as she roughly undid the bondage mitts.She simply pointed to his robe, discarded on the floor earlier.“Get that on. You’re going back to your cell now.July is a long way off, ‘Blue’. And Margot has a black star on the calendar for tomorrow.”
She watched him struggle to his feet, his body wrecked, his spirit broken.A small, cold smile touched her lips. “Sweet dreams.”