Fiction
The Spiked Cage
I’ve already been living like this for months. But he was tired of me still taking pleasure…
I’ve already been living like this for months. My wife, him, and me. The little maid of the house. I wear the dress, the stockings, the collar. I serve, I kneel, I suck when I’m told to. And I loved it. I really did.
What I loved
I loved watching. Seeing his hand on my wife’s thigh. Seeing my wife open for him. Seeing her hips rise, hearing her moans. And when he came inside her, I was already waiting for the order. “Clean.” I leaned in, spread her thighs, licked everything. The taste of her mixed with the taste of him. It made me hard immediately. I sucked, I cleaned, and my cock throbbed against the fabric of the dress. I loved it. Too much, apparently.
He noticed. One evening, while I was watching them, he saw my erection straining under the skirt. He stopped moving. He looked at my wife. Then he looked at me.
“She’s still getting off on this. We’re going to fix that.”
His decision
The next day he came back with a box. Inside was a steel chastity cage. But not like the others. Inside, small metal spikes, pointed downward. Long enough to bite as soon as the cock tried to swell.
“You’re going to wear this. All the time. And you’re going to learn that your pleasure no longer has a place here. You watch. You suck. You clean. But you don’t come anymore. You don’t get hard anymore. You pretend you don’t like it. Understood?”
My wife nodded in silence. She was already holding the key.
The spiked cage
They made me kneel. The thong was pulled down. He took my cock, still soft, and slid the cage on. The spikes touched the skin immediately. The padlock clicked. The key disappeared around my wife’s neck.
The pressure was constant. Not painful as long as I stayed calm. But as soon as my mind wandered, as soon as I thought of her under him, my cock tried to wake up… and the spikes bit. A sharp, precise burn that made me catch my breath.
“Perfect,” he said. “Now we inaugurate it.”
The inauguration
They settled on the sofa. My wife lay down, spread her thighs. He positioned himself between them. And they began.
I stayed on my knees, two meters away. The short dress, the tight cage. At first I tried to watch like before. To take pleasure in seeing her come. But as soon as my cock twitched, the spikes dug in. A sharp, immediate pain. I had to lower my eyes. Breathe. Pretend.
They continued. Harder. She moaned my name sometimes, just to force me to look up. Each time, the spikes bit a little deeper. I felt sweat running down my back. My heart was racing. And yet I stayed there, still, hands on my thighs, face neutral.
When he came, deep inside her, she looked at me.
“Come. Clean.”
I crawled forward on my knees. I spread her thighs. Her sex was open, glistening, full of him. I placed my mouth. I licked. Slowly. Everything. The taste was the same as before… but this time, every second I spent there made my cock swell against the spikes. The pain was sharp, repeated, impossible to ignore. I cleaned, and I suffered. I suffered, and I cleaned.
He leaned over me.
“Still like it?”
I shook my head no, eyes lowered, mouth still full of their taste.
“Good. Because now, this is your pleasure. The pain. Nothing else.”
What remains
They got dressed. My wife placed her hand on my head for a moment, almost tender.
“You still belong to us. But you no longer have the right to enjoy it.”
The key stayed around her neck. The cage stayed locked. The spikes are still there.
Before, watching my wife with another man was my greatest pleasure. Now it has become the exact source of my torture. And they know it. And they do it on purpose.
I stay on my knees. I watch. I suck. I clean. And every time my body still tries to feel desire… the spikes remind it that that time is over.