Chapter 11: The Cage Arrives
The package arrived at 10:17 AM. A small, matte black box, no bigger than a glasses case, left on the porch by a bored-looking delivery driver. Margot watched from the window as the van pulled away. She waited five full minutes before retrieving it, letting the morning sun warm the cardboard in her hands. It was unnervingly light.
She placed it on the dining table, the same table where she’d dined while he’d knelt. The house was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator.
“Derek,” she called upstairs, her voice calm. “Come down, please.”
She heard the muffled thump of him setting something down in his office, then the hesitant tread on the stairs. He appeared in the doorway, dressed in his standard work-from-home uniform: khakis and a polo shirt. His eyes went straight to the box. He froze.
“Bring it here,” she said, nodding to the living room coffee table. “And sit on the floor.”
He obeyed, moving with the careful precision of someone walking on ice. He picked up the box, carried it to the low table, and lowered himself to the rug, folding his legs awkwardly beneath him. Margot settled into the armchair, looking down at him. She hadn’t planned this posture, but it felt right—a deliberate elevation.
“Open it.”
His fingers fumbled with the simple tape seal. The cardboard flaps gave way. Inside, nestled in form-fitting foam, was the device. Sleek, black, and medical-looking. A curved silicone ring with an attached, vented plastic cage. A small brass lock with two identical keys.
“Take it out.”
He lifted it. It dangled from his fingertips, a bizarre piece of modern sculpture. The plastic clicked softly against the metal of the lock.
“Read me the instructions,” Margot said.
He blinked. “What?”
“You heard me. Read them aloud to me. From the booklet.”
His ears turned red. He set the device down on the foam and pulled out a single, concise instruction sheet. He cleared his throat. His voice started as a croak. “Um. ‘Before first use, ensure all components are clean. Hydration is key to comfort and safety. Apply a water-based lubricant liberally to the ring and the… the anatomical area.’”
“Go on.”
He continued, stumbling through the clinical language about fit, cleaning protocols, and warning signs of poor circulation. Each word, spoken in his soft, technical voice in their sunlit living room, draped in beige and tasteful blues, was more surreal than the last. He finished, the paper trembling slightly in his hand.
“Good,” Margot said. She reached into the box and picked up the two keys. They were small, cold. She slipped one onto the silver chain around her neck, next to her own pendant. It fell between her breasts, a hidden weight. The other she placed on the table. “That one is for emergencies, and I will keep it elsewhere. This one,” she touched the key at her throat, “is mine.”
She leaned forward. “Now, do it. Put it on.”
The color drained from his face. “Now? Here?”
“Unless you’d prefer the backyard.”
He stared at the device. Then, his motions jerky, he stood and unbuckled his belt. The rasp of the zipper was deafening. He pushed his khakis and boxers down to his thighs and stood there, exposed and shivering in the conditioned air. He was already half-hard, a pathetic, anticipatory response that made Margot’s lips thin.
“Lubricant is in the box,” she reminded him, her tone that of a pharmacist.
He squeezed a clear gel onto his fingers, applied it with clumsy, hurried strokes. Picking up the ring, he struggled. It was a tight fit. He had to push and twist, his breath hitching with effort and pain. Finally, it settled at the base. He picked up the cage, aligned it, and pressed until it clicked into place over his softness. He fumbled with the tiny lock, the brass tab slipping twice before he managed to slide it home. The click was definitive. A sound like the cocking of a gun in a quiet room.
He looked up at her, his eyes wide, vulnerable, his pants still pooled around his knees.
“Hands at your sides,” Margot instructed. She rose from the chair and walked a slow circle around him. He flinched when she was behind him. The device made a faint outline against his trousers. From the front, it was a stark, foreign bulge. A piece of hardware.
She completed her circuit and stood before him. “You look pathetic,” she said, the words dropping like stones. “A grown man, locked up by his wife in the middle of a Tuesday.”
A tremor ran through him. His shoulders slumped. “Yes, Margot.”
“Thank you,” she said, prompting him.
“Thank you, Margot.”
“Get dressed. Go to work. I expect you to be productive.”
He pulled up his boxers and pants, wincing as the fabric tightened over the new contour. He buckled his belt, the act now freighted with symbolism. He gathered his laptop and notebook, movements robotic, and retreated to his study without another word.
The day passed in a strange, disjointed rhythm. Margot tried to focus on a client’s branding project, but her mind kept drifting to the key between her breasts. She’d feel its cool metal against her skin and a jolt would go through her—a mix of disgust, power, and a low, unsettling thrill.
She got home before Derek and texted Lena. Come on over and have some drinks. I'm going to have Derek show you his cage tonight.
Lena’s reply was immediate. I’ll bring wine. For us.
When Derek arrived home, he found Lena and Margot drinking wine on the couch. They were laughing at something and looked up at him when he walked in the door.
Lena looked hot as always. She was wearing a crop top and short shorts with her long legs on display. Her dark curly hair was up showing her delicate neck.
"Hey Lena, good to see you again." Derek said casually.
"Hey Derek, I'm actually looking forward to seeing more of you." Lena said and both her and Margot laughed together.
Derek frowned in confusion for a minute wondering what she meant. Was she being suggestive? He looked over at Margot for guidance.
Margot looked him in the eye. "I've decided that I want you to show Lena your new accessory." she said with a wink.
OMG, Derek thought. Surely, she wasn't going to do this to him. Panic flashed in his eyes. “Why?”
“Because I want her to see.” Margot sipped her water. “And because you need to learn that your shame is not private property. It’s mine to display.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded. “Yes, Margot.”
“Okay,” she said. She looked at Derek. “Take off your shoes and stand up.”
He did. His face was a mask of dread.
“Now drop your pants.”
Lena giggled and leaned back, crossing her long legs. Her face had an amused expectant expression, and Derek felt his stomach clench in embarrassment and shame.
Derek’s shaking hands went to his belt buckle, and he struggled for a minute to get it undone and his waistband unhooked. Then, closing his eyes, he pushed his pants and boxers down in one motion, stepping out of the puddle of fabric. He stood naked from the waist down, the black device a grotesque punctuation mark on his body. He kept his eyes fixed on a distant point on the wall, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped.
Margot rose and walked to him. She didn’t touch him. She just looked. “Turn around, slowly.”
He turned, exposing the back of the ring, the line of it digging into his skin. He completed the rotation and faced them again, trembling.
“What do you think, Lena?” Margot asked, as if asking for an opinion on a piece of furniture.
Lena took a slow sip of wine, her eyes scanning the length of him with a smirking expression. “It's so small. I never realized Derek had such a tiny little dick. No wonder you locked it up Margot."
Derek wanted to crawl into a hole. He was beyond humiliation now. Exposed, and less of a man.
"The fit looks good. No purple tinge, no major swelling. Is it comfortable?” Lena asked him?
The question, so clinical, directed at him, seemed to shatter Derek’s last remnant of dignity. A small, choked sound escaped his throat. “It’s… it’s okay,” he whispered.
“He means it’s bearable,” Margot translated. “But it’s a constant reminder. A constant pressure. Isn’t that right, Derek?”
He nodded, his eyes glassy.
“Speak.”
“Yes. It’s a constant reminder.”
“Of what?”
He swallowed. “Of who… who owns me.”
Lena set her glass down. “And do you like that?”
The room held its breath. Derek’s gaze finally broke from the wall and flickered between the two women. He looked utterly lost, a shipwrecked soul. A tear traced a path down his cheek. He didn’t wipe it.
“Yes,” he breathed. “I like it.”
Lena nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible motion. “Good. because your wife deserves to own you. She also deserves more than you can provide. You may get dressed now.”
The permission, coming from Lena, seemed to undo him further. He scrambled back into his clothes, his movements hurried and graceless. When he was covered, he stood there, unsure what to do.
“You may go wait in your study,” Margot said. “Close the door.”
He fled.
The silence after he left was different. The air crackled.
Lena let out a long, slow breath. “Well. He’s all in. You see that, right? That wasn’t just acquiescence. That was relief.”
Margot picked up her wine glass, her hand steady. “He cried.”
“They often do. It’s a release valve. All that shame has to go somewhere.” Lena leaned forward. “Now comes the hard part for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Staying in charge when the novelty fades. When it just becomes… domestic. When his gratitude starts to feel cloying. When you wonder what you’ve actually built.” Lena’s dark eyes were sharp, knowing. “You wanted him transformed. This is the clay. It’s messy. It sticks to your hands.”
Margot looked toward the closed study door. Behind it was her husband, a man she had just paraded in a cage for her friend. A man who had thanked her for it. The key on her chest felt impossibly heavy.
“You said Jake is available Friday night,” Lena said softly. “My studio. I’ll be there to… document. If you’re ready.”
Margot thought of the videos on Derek’s laptop. The grainy, borrowed fantasies. This would not be grainy. It would be high-definition, deliberate, and real.
Margot finished her wine in one swallow. “I'll tell him we’re ready. "
"Fantastic, this is going to be so much fun.” Lena said with a smile, raising her glass for a toast. Margot clinked her glass against hers. The alcohol did little to blunt the sharp edge of anticipation coiling in her gut like a serpent.
Derek’s study door remained shut. The muffled sounds of his keyboard clicking had stopped hours ago. Margot wondered if he was still avoiding them, or if he was simply paralyzed by the weight of his own transformation.
She turned to Lena, who lounged against the couch cushions with the ease of someone who had never known shame. “So,” Margot said, you really think I should peg Derek tonight.”
Lena grinned. "Absolutely. He did what you told him too even though it was painful. He needs to be rewarded with an orgasm, but only on your terms. We need to build the association between pain and pleasure." Lena explains, "Once he acknowledges his body's natural responses, he'll crave your power even more."
Margot nods thoughtfully, swirling the wine in her glass as she considers the idea. "I'm a little concerned I'll damage him. I've never done anything like this before." Margot said, hesitating.
"Would you like me to help you pop his cherry?" Lena asked with a devious smile.
"I've pegged guys before and I don’t mind taking the lead while you watch. It'll be an educational experience for both of you."
Margot's pulse quickened as she imagined the scene. The thought of Derek submitting to Lena, his body responding to a woman who wasn't his wife, made her thighs clench. But the idea of being the one to initiate it, to guide it, to control it—both of them—sent a thrill through her.
"That might be a good idea," Margot said slowly, trying to keep her voice steady. "I want to be confident when I do it and having you do it the first time will be totally humiliating for him."
Lena leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfect, did you buy the different sized dildos we talked about?" Lena asked. "We should start with a small one. You can work your way up in size over time." Lena said with a wicked smile.
"I followed your instructions to the letter." Margot said laughing. I'll go get the harness and small dildo and you can put it on. Then I'll bring Derek in for his deflowering." Margot said, her voice low and throaty with anticipation.
Margot went to her bedroom, picked up the strapon and took it back to Lena.
Lena picked it up and looked it over.
The harness was black leather with thick straps and a small, realistic-looking dildo attached. The dildo was a soft silicone in a muted shade of purple with subtle veins and a flared head. It was small, about 5 inches long and slightly less than 1 inch in circumference. Margot had chosen it deliberately—small enough to be manageable, but large enough to make Derek feel the weight of penetration after years of nothing meaningful. Lena gave Margot a slow, approving nod. “Perfect size. He’ll feel every inch.”
Lena stood up and stepped into the harness, putting it on over her cutoff shorts and showed Margot how to secure it in place.
"You do it over your clothes?" Margot asked.
"Not usually, but Derek doesn't deserve to see me naked yet. Being dressed adds another level to his humiliation." Lena adjusted the straps tightly, making sure every inch of the harness fit just right, the purple dildo jutting out lewdly beneath her shirt.
Margot nodded, suddenly feeling more confident with Lena in control. She could watch, learn, and avoid making mistakes with Derek's first experience. "Where should we do this?" she asked.
"In your bedroom in front of the mirror." Lena said with a grin. "I want to see his face when he sees himself on your bed, being fucked by me. That image will haunt him forever."
Margot swallowed, nodded, and led the way. As she opened the bedroom door, she noticed Derek's study still closed. The silence from inside was deafening.
Margot hesitated for a moment, her hand on the doorknob, before pushing it open. The room smelled of old coffee and the sterile air of his tech-filled cave. Derek sat at his desk, his back rigid, hands resting on the keyboard like a man frozen in the middle of a sysadmin disaster.
Lena followed closely behind Margot, the harness on her hips making a faint creak as she moved. Derek’s fingers twitched but didn’t press any keys. He didn’t turn around.
Margot stepped inside. "Derek."
He flinched at the sound of her voice, as if she’d startled him from a deep sleep. His shoulders rose slightly, like a turtle pulling into its shell, then looked up at her meekly.
"You obeyed me well today and you've earned an orgasm, but you'll have to pay another price for your pleasure." Margot said, her voice calm but firm. "Would you like an orgasm?"
Margot’s voice sliced through the dense silence.
Derek’s eyes lit up with excitement "Yes Goddess."
"Then get undressed and follow me." Margot commanded.
"Is Lena still here?" Derek asked tremulously.
"Yes, she's actually going to help me with your orgasm. Is that a problem?" Margot replied watching for his reaction.
Derek visibly swallowed hard, his mind racing. From one perspective, this was like something out of his wildest fantasies, but on the other hand this was real life and she was a friend. He would be totally exposed and embarrassed. She would never see him the same again. Then again, she had already seen his chastity cage and who knows what Margot had told her. "No Goddess, no problem. As you wish it." he replied fearfully.
"I’m yours to command."
Lena let out a low whistle from behind her. "Damn, Margot, he’s really taking to this," she whispered to Margot with a playful punch on her arm. "I think he likes the idea of you sharing him."
As Lena stepped into the office, Derek looked down and saw the strapon jutting out obscenely from her shorts.
His breath hitched. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned his shirt with jerky movements. Margot moved behind him, close enough to feel the heat of her body but not touching. She leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear as she whispered, "I want to hear you thank Lena too."
Derek swallowed hard. His body moved without thought, stripping off the last of his clothes. He stood there, completely nude while the two women watched him. "Thank you... Lena," he managed to get out, his voice shaking.
Lena smirked, running a finger along the shaft of the strapon. "Good boy. Are you ready to cum with a dick up your ass?" Lena asked, her voice low and playful. She leaned in, her breath hot against Derek’s ear as she whispered, "Because that's the only kind of sex you're going to get."
Derek’s breath hitched, his naked body trembling as the women loomed over him. The key at Margot’s throat gleamed under the office light, a constant reminder of her power over him. He nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Mistress."
Margot led him to the bedroom, Derek barefoot and bare-chested, his pants left crumpled in the study. The air smelled of lavender from the diffuser, the soft lighting casting long shadows.
Margot guided Derek to the center of the room, positioning him in front of the full-length mirror that dominated one wall. Lena followed, her hips swaying with deliberate teasing force as the strapon’s silicone tip bobbed against her thigh.
Derek stood gazing at his own reflection: a middle-aged man with a growing belly, soft arms and legs, hair slowly receding at his temples. Naked with his tiny dick dangling between his legs, a grotesque parody of masculinity. He almost didn’t recognize himself—and yet he did. This was him now. Chosen. Owned.
Lena stepped around behind him and pushed his body forward forcing him to catch himself on the bed, his hands down and his ass up. She stepped forward and kicked his legs further apart, lowering him to the height of her strapon. Derek could look sideways and see their full reflection in the mirror as she lined up behind him.
Lena, took her time rolling a condom over the end of the dildo and pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and snapping them into place while Derek quaked in fear. He had fantasized about this a lot but never had a dildo in his ass before, only his finger. He had no idea how this was really going to feel.
His ass clenched in anticipation as Lena moved closer, the strapon swaying slightly as she positioned herself behind him.
“Relax, Derek,” Margot murmured, stepping close and brushing her fingers along his spine, grounding him. “This is going to feel so good.”
Derek let out a shaky breath, trying to obey. Lena squirted a healthy amount of Lube on his ass, and then on the dildo. She rubbed it on with her hand like she was jerking off her own cock.
"It's essential to use lots of lube" She informed Margot. "You don't want to ruin your toy." she said with a chuckle.
"Next, you want to line things up carefully. His ass will be really tight at first and want to push it out. Perfect alignment is essential. You can find the position by rubbing it around his asshole and adjusting height and angle until it starts to slip in." Lena said, continuing her lesson while Margot watched in rapt attention.
Derek could feel the tip of the dildo pressing against his entrance, slick with lube. Lena pressed forward just slightly, and he flinched.
“Derek,” Margot reminded him, her voice sharp. “You’re not allowed to tense up.”
He forced himself to relax, letting out a trembling exhale.
Lena pushed forward again, the tip slipping past his tight ring of muscle.
Derek gasped, his fingers clawing at the bedspread as a burning stretch filled him. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt—foreign, invasive, and yet undeniably present. Lena paused, giving him time to adjust.
"Once you're in, let it settle a bit until the cramps subside. Unless you really want to hurt him." she added with a sly smile.
“Breathe, Derek,” Margot coached, her voice steady despite the way her own pulse fluttered in her throat. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
He tried to follow her instruction, but his breath came in short, sharp bursts. The burn was intense, but beneath it was something else—a growing, throbbing need he hadn't expected. He shifted slightly, and the dildo rubbed against something inside him that made his toes curl.
It wasn’t just the stretch anymore; it was something deeper, something he'd never felt with his own fingers. He moaned in pleasure unexpectedly.
“I just hit his male G spot." Lena said continuing her lesson. "When you go deep, you bump into his prostate. Men often learn to orgasm just from this without anyone touching their dick." She said, shoving it deep once more to demonstrate the reaction.
Derek gasped as a jolt ran through him, his back arching involuntarily.
Margot watched, riveted. Her thighs pressed together tightly as an unfamiliar heat pooled between her legs. This was nothing like the vanilla, obligatory intimacy she’d shared with Derek over the years. This was raw. This was *power*.
Lena slowly pulled the dildo nearly all the way out before pushing back in with deliberate, steady strokes. The sound of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the room, rhythmic and obscene. Derek whimpered each time the tip brushed against something sensitive inside him, his body trembling as he struggled to stay still.
"Do you want to cum, little dick?" Lena asked him as she continued her slow, relentless assault.
"Yes, please Mistress." Derek gasped.
"Two conditions little dick. First, if you cum, you'll have to lick up your own mess. Are you agreeing to do that?" Lena asked teasingly.
She slid the dildo in and out of him with agonizing slowness."
Derek's breath hitched in a mix of pleasure and anxiety. The embarrassment of what she was asking him to do clawed at him, but the desperate need coiling inside him was stronger. "Yes, Mistress. I'll... I'll lick it up," he stuttered out.
"Oh, I forgot you were such a cum slut. Margot told me all about how you licked Jake's cum out of her pussy the other night, then how you lapped your own off her feet." Lena said laughing, her voice dripping with amusement. She pushed the dildo deeper, making Derek gasp.
Derek cringed in shame at the revelation. Lena knew everything. He felt totally exposed and the fresh rush of humiliation caused his dick to twitch.
Margot watched, her heart pounding in her chest. She noticed his reaction to the humiliation and looked over at Lena catching her eye. Lena returned an "I told you so" smile and continued.
"The second condition for your orgasm is that you have to beg your wife to make this the only kind of sex you get from now on." Lena said letting the words sink in as she continued to go deep hitting his prostate again and again.
"Beg her to deny you all other pleasure while she enjoys sex with whoever she wants." Lena continued.
Derek's head was spinning. Was he really going to give up his normal sex life forever?
His mind flashed to the videos on his laptop—thick, veiny cocks sliding into tight pussies, the sounds of women moaning and men growling—endless pleasure he could never have. And now he had to beg Margot to deny him that, publicly humiliate himself in front of her friend, all while his cock was locked up and useless. The idea should have been unbearable, but the thought of getting to cum again, even under these humiliating conditions, twisted his mind into knots.
"Yes..." he gasped out, his voice cracking. "I'll... I'll do it.
"She's right here, little dick. Beg her to cut you off. Tell her how your little dick isn't worthy of her beautiful soft hot pussy. Tell her that she deserves a real man to satisfy her instead of a little dick faggot that loves getting fucked up the ass." Lena boomed as she slammed the dildo deep inside Derek's ass.
Derek cried out, his body jerking forward from the force of the thrust. He could feel his face burning, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might explode. "P-Please Margot," he whimpered, his voice trembling. "Make this the only kind of sex you let me have. Please... deny me everything else. I don't deserve your beautiful body, your soft pussy. I'm just a little dick that loves getting fucked."
Margot's breath hitched in her throat as she watched her husband beg, his body trembling with need and shame.
The words clawed at her, twisting something deep inside her—something hungry and possessive. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against the chain around her neck before she crossed her arms under her breasts, lifting them slightly as she tilted her head to the side.
"You hear him, Lena?" Margot asked, her voice low and deliberate. "He’s begging *me* to deny him. To lock him away and only use him like this." She took a slow step closer, her eyes locked onto Derek’s trembling form. "Isn’t that what you wanted, Derek?
To be nothing more than a toy for us to use?" Margot asked, checking that Derek was still looking up at her through the reflection of the mirror.
Derek nodded eagerly, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Please Goddess, yes."
Lena picked up the pace of her thrusts, the strapon moving in and out of Derek's ass with a steady rhythm. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, mixing with Derek's gasps and moans.
Margot watched Derek's face closely, observing the way his expression twisted between pleasure and shame. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his mouth slightly open as he panted.
His body moved with Lena’s thrusts in involuntary sync, hips rocking back to meet her each time she pushed inside. The dildo glistened with lube, his entrance stretched obscenely around it.
Margot stepped even closer, her presence pressing down on him like a physical weight. She reached out and curled her fingers around his hair, pulling his head back with slow, deliberate force. His neck arched as she forced him to look up at her through the mirror, his throat exposed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“You love this, don’t you?” she murmured, her thumb brushing lightly over his trembling lower lip. “Being used. Being nothing.
Just a hole to fuck. Just a little dick to lock up and jerk off on command." Margot’s voice was soft, almost gentle. It made her words more cutting.
Derek moaned, his body jerking forward with each deep thrust from Lena. "Yes," he gasped out, his voice barely a whisper. "I love it."
Lena’s hips never faltered, the strapon’s rhythm relentless. "That’s a good little dick," Lena cooed, her gloved hand sliding around to grip Derek’s hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. "Taking this dick so well. This is all your good for. I bet you'd like to have a real dick up your ass, faggot." Lena taunted as she continued her relentless thrusts, her hips snapping against Derek's ass with a wet sound that echoed through the room.
Derek whimpered, his body trembling violently. Margot could see his cock jerking back and forth, pathetic, pitiful, and yet undeniably present. The sight sent a jolt straight through her. She reached down and gently tugged on the key at her throat, as if to remind herself of what was hers to control.
"Please Mistresses," Derek begged again, his voice shaking with each thrust. "I need to cum... please let me cum!"
Lena slowed her pace briefly, looking over Derek’s shoulder at Margot.
“His dick’s leaking,” she observed with a smirk.” She leaned forward, her gloved hand sliding down to wrap around his tiny cock and gave it a single jerk.
Derek erupted in orgasm immediately jerking back and forth like a marionette, pinned by the cock in his ass as he spurted his load all over the bedspread.
His body shuddered violently, tears streaming down his face, shame and release crashing over him in waves. Lena kept the dildo thrusting through his climax, drawing out every twitch and spasm until he let out a broken sob that finally made her pull the toy free.
Margot watched in rapt fascination as Derek’s orgasm played out, his small cock twitching pathetically as it emptied itself in thick ropes across the fabric.
Lena left Derek slumped on the bed, knees still trembling, his face buried in his arms as he tried to recover. "Don't forget to lap up your mess, cum slut." Lena growled.
Margot looked at Derek as he trembled on the bed, ears burning red as he sniffled into the sheets. "Get on your knees and clean it up," Margot ordered crisply, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Derek flinched as if struck, then slowly obeyed. He slid off the bed onto his hands and knees, his bare ass still glistening from the lube, the cage pressing against his body. He crawled forward until his face hovered over the sticky mess he'd made, his breath hitching as the scent hit him.
Margot watched his humiliation with detached interest. She could see the way his shoulders trembled, the way his fingers curled into the carpet.
The shame rolled off him in waves and yet—there was no resistance. Derek’s lips parted, his tongue flicking hesitantly against the bedspread, gathering the first string of cum.
“You’re doing so well sweetie,” Margot murmured, her voice softening just enough to betray the pleasure she felt seeing him like this. She reached out, her thumb brushing over the key at her throat, feeling the weight of it between her breasts. "Welcome to your new life."