13.

THIRTEEN

Rafael

The first thing I’m aware of is arousal and pressure on my dick like it’s being squeezed. Something’s wrong. It’s like my cock is trying to get hard but can’t.

I reach under the sheets, vaguely aware that I’m in my own bed with daylight spilling into the room. Panic spikes when my fingers encounter something metal on my dick. I throw the covers aside and stare down the length of my body.

“What the fuck?” I mutter and grab at the chastity device. My cock is bulging against the bars. I gasp at the brush of my own hand. My dick is desperate to harden, the sensation hugely intensified by the restriction.

Jesus fucking Christ, what is going on?

A dozen images and impressions try to gather into a picture, but I can’t really think about anything other than the fact that my dick is locked—with a goddamn padlock—into a cage. This is not my kink.

The straps around my waist are a pliable plastic, but cutting them won’t get me out of the cage, not with the ring around my balls.

I sit up, furious, and fiddle with the padlock. It’s small. It could be cut off with the proper tools.

I notice a piece of paper stuck behind the strap at my hip. I pull it out and unfold a note bearing a slanting handwriting.

If you remove it, I won’t fuck you for a week.

I stare.

Then a smile spreads slowly across my face. I’m not yet thinking about how this came about. The pieces of memory are fragmented, not yet slotting together.

I’m still pissed about the cage—I do not like denial, and that’s what this is—but it’s a promise too.

Calmer now, I start thinking back. My head is fuzzy, nothing quite clear, but I remember the fight club. I remember fighting Dominic in the ring. I remember him walking away.

Then there was the alley. The men.

Dominic stopped them and then …

I don’t really know. I vaguely recall a cell, but it has a dreamlike quality. I know Dominic was there. I think he was going to kill me.

He claimed me instead.

If you remove it, I won’t fuck you for a week.

Arousal spills hotly into my groin, making my cock swell further against the cage. The pressure is intense, the denial so goddamn frustrating.

I get out of bed, wincing at the soreness of bruises on my torso. My face hurts too. I have a headache. I need water.

I get to the bathroom and figure out how to pee with this stupid thing on. I get in the shower and start washing away the last few awful days.

I explore the cage with my fingers. I’ve never been in a chastity device before. It’s weirdly erotic, like a hand curled around my cock.

After showering, I dress in lounge clothes. It’s early afternoon. Normally, I would head to the gym, but my face is bruised and my ribs hurt and all I can think about is my cock in the cage. I have to do something, so I sit down at the piano and play.

When my head’s not fucked up, I play every day. I love it, the way it quiets my thoughts and channels my energy without draining me. There’s nothing else like it.

It’s been months since I’ve been able to experience this with music, and it’s such a fucking relief to reach this state again that I don’t want to let it go. I just play and play. By the time I stop, it’s early evening.

I eat one of the meals from my delivery service.

As I dress for the evening, I find my phone in the pocket of last night’s jacket. I hadn’t thought to check it until now, and I find it blinking to show a missed text.

Two missed texts. The first is from this morning.

Unknown: Are you still wearing it?

The second came in an hour ago.

Unknown: Pouting is childish and annoying.

I change the contact to Controlling Asshole then reply, I’m not pouting. I didn’t check my phone until now.

The response is almost immediate.

Controlling Asshole: So wtf have you been doing? Finding a locksmith?

I reply, I would need my phone for that.

Controlling Asshole: Answer my fucking question.

I smile and type, Playing piano.

I type a second message. Since I can’t jack off.

Controlling Asshole: Do you like it?

I reply, I hate it, and I hate you.

Controlling Asshole: That’s fine. See you tonight. Behave.

Because I can’t let it end like that, I open my pants, snap a picture of my caged cock, and send it with the words, I don’t have much choice.

Controlling Asshole: Thanks for that. I’ll add it to my collection.

When I reply with ??? , he sends me a picture.

“Holy fuck,” I mutter as I take in the sight of myself, passed out on my couch, hands bound above my head, belly and chest painted with stripes of cum.

Pretty , I respond.

Controlling Asshole: I think so too.

Smiling, I toss my phone down and finish getting dressed. I go for a black corset vest with hot pink detailing. I opt for no shirt under it. My black pants are tight enough that the cock cage will be apparent to anyone staring at my crotch. In the nightclub, people might not notice it. Downstairs, they definitely will.

The bruises on my cheekbone and jaw are easy enough to hide with concealer, but my split lip will get some stares. It’s not the first time.

I start the evening in the nightclub. I’ve been neglecting it, handing over more and more responsibility to my manager, Saylor. She does a great job, but I can see she’s relieved to have me there helping sort out various minor issues.

It’s weird how I’m so focused. I didn’t take any amphetamines. I didn’t come. I’m annoyed as hell about my cock being trapped in the cage. And yet, with it on, both eliminating the possibility of satisfaction and promising it, I can chill out and think.

I head down to the sex club at around midnight. Dominic hasn’t arrived. The bouncers know to notify me when he does.

Nyx isn’t working tonight. Avery is at the bar, and he raises a sculpted eyebrow at the cock cage’s distinct bulge.

“That’s fun,” he comments as he starts making my requested Old Fashioned.

“Not really,” I reply sourly.

The spanking on stage, not to mention the response of the audience, has my cock doing its damnedest to get hard. The cage’s steel grip won’t allow it.

Avery snorts and slides me the drink. I go to the office. I missed yesterday, and I’ve been distracted for a while, so I start reviewing flagged footage from the private play rooms.

Guards ensure safety, but each session is also recorded. Certain words and behaviors get flagged for my review.

I’m in the middle of a scene when I get a text from Big John.

He’s here.

My heart skips. My cock tries again to swell inside the cage. The arousal is so intense and so goddamn frustrating.

I switch to the current camera feed. I track Dominic from the door to the bar. He’s wearing gray pants that show off his ass spectacularly and the semi-sheer black shirt he wore his first night here. His short crewcut hair looks sharp and sexy, like always.

When Dominic arrives at the bar, Avery clearly senses that he shouldn’t try to flirt with Dominic and simply goes about pouring bourbon like it’s a serious business. Dominic pays and stands between the bar and the seating/fucking area.

I smirk at the knowledge that he’s looking for me while I’m looking at him. He backtracks to the bar and sets his drink down. He pulls his phone from his back pocket and types.

My phone chimes.

Controlling Asshole: Playing games?

I reply, Watching porn.

On screen, Dominic scowls at his phone. Before he can reply, I text, No reason to look so angry. It’s kind of my job.

Dominic looks around, hunting for the cameras. He finds one of them and stares into it. I know he can’t see me, but I still shiver like he can.

Leaving his drink, he starts moving. At first I’m not sure what he’s doing, then I realize he’s looking for the office. I lean back in my chair, waiting to watch him get frustrated. There’s no way he’s going to find—

Ah, shit.

I have about five seconds to prepare myself as Dominic spots the discreet office door, and it’s not enough. When the door opens, my cock throbs and my heart leaps, and I’m sure all of it shows clearly on my face.

I stare over the top of the monitors to Dominic in the doorway. His dark eyes burn with an electrifying mixture of fury and possession.

As today passed, more of last night’s events clarified. He almost killed me. He fully intended to. As much as he wants me, which is obvious in the cock pressing hard against the front of his gray pants, he hates me too.

The moment stretches to its breaking point.

“Come,” he demands roughly, and I shudder as my cock tries to obey.

Dominic’s eyes half close as he watches my reaction to the word, my body’s instinctive interpretation of it.

I get up from my chair. When I step away from the desk, Dominic’s eyes drop to my crotch. His lips part. The sensation of the cage as a hand wrapped around my cock intensifies.

It’s agony. I need to get hard. I need to come.

Only Dominic can give that to me.

I go to him.

I expect his hand to go straight for my caged cock, but he reaches instead for my face. His hand cups my jaw. His thumb gently brushes my bruised cheekbone. He clearly knows where the injury is under the concealer.

He whispers, “No one gets to hurt you but me.”

My breath catches. He’s so fucking dangerous—and somehow I’ve never felt safer.

I keep my eyes on his as his hand drifts downward. His fingers brush my throat and sternum. The sensation vanishes as his touch moves down my corset vest, but I hear the light scrape. I breathe harder as his fingers go lower. They reach my waistband.

At the tap of his fingers against the cock cage, I gasp.

“Mm,” he murmurs. “You were a good boy after all.” His eyes drift downward. “So you hated this?”

“Yes.”

“And you hate me?”

“Yes.”

“But you need me.” It’s not a question this time, but I answer anyway, though I can only whisper.

“Yes.”

His thumb strokes the cage as it stroked my cheekbone. The sensations are half there but somehow more intense because of it.

“Take it off,” I tell him.

“Not yet.”

I make a sound of frustration. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He looks the calmest I’ve ever seen him.

“Come,” he says, and just like last time, my body responds with a throb and shudder before I’m able to follow him from the office. I expect him to head toward the elevator, but he leads me instead to one of the couches.

It’s Thursday, so the club isn’t at its fullest. The couch is unoccupied, the audience scattered.

Dominic settles on the couch. He’s smirking. He’s drawing this out. He wants to enjoy my frustration.

I glare down at him. He doesn’t get to have all the power. Not that easily.

I sink down between his spread legs until I’m kneeling on the floor. His smirk vanishes when my hands settle on his thighs. His lips part as my hands slide toward his hips.

I expect him to grab my throat, to snarl, to stop me, but he doesn’t. When I reach his groin, my thumbs stroke his swollen balls through the fabric. With the music, I can’t hear any sounds that he makes, but I can feel the way he shudders.

I move my hands to his waistband and unbutton it. His hands fist at his sides as I glide the zipper down. He’s not wearing underwear. His engorged cock, huge and hard and fucking beautiful, springs out. It juts upward, its heavy veins and flared tip painted with the club’s red light.

I’m shivering, salivating, aching. I lower my head and take him into my mouth. His hips jack upward, driving that hard cock into my throat. I gag and moan and dig my fingers into his tense thighs. My confined dick throbs inside the cage. My balls are so swollen they feel like they’ll burst.

I draw up and down his shaft, desperate for whatever pleasure I can get. Dominic’s thighs tremble. His cock leaks in my mouth.

I draw back to his tip, lathing it with my tongue, lapping at the slit, then sucking hard. His fingers curl in my hair, pulling me up. I meet his gaze. His eyes are dark and hungry, but there’s something more in them. Fear. Vulnerability.

I don’t need to ask to know that he’s never done anything like this in public.

I plant my hands on the edge of the couch, lifting myself toward his mouth. His grip moves to the back of my head. His other hand grabs my waistband. We meet in a hungry, desperate, brutal kiss.

My split lip starts to bleed. He licks it then sweeps his tongue into my mouth, adding a coppery bite to the kiss.

His hand on my waistband starts opening my pants. We both break the kiss, gasping, when his hand finds the cage. His fingers explore my swollen balls behind it.

I pull a sachet of lube from my pocket. I tear it open and slather his dick. As my hand glides up and down his slick length, I lean toward him and whisper in his ear, “You need me too.”

His face turns. His teeth graze my neck. His hand cups my cock in his cage.

It’s all the admission I’m going to get. It’s all the admission I need.

I draw back, getting to my feet. I turn to face the room. Some enjoy their own bodies, some enjoy the sight of others.

Behind me, Dominic tugs my pants down, displaying my caged cock to the hungry eyes around us. He tugs at my hips, drawing them toward him, guiding me onto his cock.

I gasp at the first press of his cockhead against my hole, right alongside the belt’s strap. The tight ring of muscle opens for him. I sink down slowly, reveling in each inch of penetration, loving the pressure and the burn and the fullness.

As my ass settles against Dominic’s pelvis, I shudder. His arms hook around me, tugging me back to rest against him. His cock is pressing against my prostate. Dominic holds me tight as tremors wrack my body. My cock leaks in the cage.

I lean my head back on his shoulder as he plays with my taut balls and caged cock. He could make me come inside it, but I think he’s just going to torment me instead.

He whispers raspingly into my ear, “If you keep shuddering and clenching on my cock like that, I’m going to come.”

My body convulses. My ass fists his dick.

“Fuck,” he grits out then orders, “Plant your hands on either side of me and lift.”

I do as he says. He grabs my hips, leans back against the couch for leverage, and starts fucking upward into me. I cry out.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Take it like that.”

I throw my head back and close my eyes. My cock throbs in the cage as he punches into me. It’s shallow because Dominic doesn’t have much room to move, but it’s hard.

I want to come so bad. I’m so fucking close. It’s like I keep chasing it, skimming it, losing it.

Dominic’s pace quickens. His fingers tighten on my hips. He’s going to come.

He thrusts up so hard I’m lifted to my fingertips as he cries out and floods my ass. His cock kicks inside me, torturing me with how close I am. I whine and tremble as Dominic strains against me. I love that he’s coming inside me. I love the hot spill of his release, but I’m nearly crying with frustration as he lowers us to the couch.

My body is convulsing with some kind of shadow orgasm. I’m strung so tight that I don’t hear whatever Dominic says to me. I don’t help as he lifts us both to our feet and his cock slides free of my ass.

He pulls my pants up and zips them. He fastens his own. He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me across the room. I’m past noticing other people. I barely notice when we get to hallway and he says something about his jacket. He leaves me, and I slide down the wall, sitting on the floor. Some of his cum leaks from my ass.

When Dominic returns, my elbows are on my knees, my head in my hands.

“Don’t you quit on me,” he says, hauling me to my feet. “You’re not done. You won’t be for a while.”

He walks me to the private elevator. I fumble with the keypad, punching in the code. We get inside. He holds onto me, either holding me up or just holding me—I’m not sure—as we glide upward.

The doors open onto my play room, the lights coming on automatically. I feel like I’m still on that edge of orgasm. I can’t think. I can’t make any decisions. Dominic makes them instead.

He takes me to the swing. He starts undressing me. I lean against him, my face resting on his shoulder. The position feels strangely familiar. He pauses in his work. His hand strokes the back on my head.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, “but I need to punish you first.”

“Why?” I ask as he draws back and starts unhooking my corset vest.

“Because you let other men touch you,” he replies as he unzips my pants and tugs them partway down my thighs.

He guides me back, helping me onto the swing. The canvas sling hangs in a study frame, supporting my back and head, presenting my ass at the edge.

Dominic removes my shoes and socks then pulls my pants all the way off. He lifts my right leg high, settling my foot into the stirrup. He secures my ankle with the Velcro strap. He repeats the process with my other leg, opening me fully. All I can do is watch.

He doesn’t stop with that. He wraps the soft handcuffs around my wrists. Pulling my arms crosswise over my torso, he binds them to the frame, like a naked straightjacket.

Then he steps back and looks at me. I watch him through lowered eyelids. I’m breathing hard, aroused as fuck. My frustration has dissolved into resignation. I’ve given up.

Dominic removes his clothes. He’s half hard again. He picks up his jacket and starts pulling wires and straps and pads from the pockets. He pulls out a remote.

My heart skips as I realize what he’s going to do to me. He pulls the covers from two of the pads and sticks them on my inner thighs.

“Have you played with shock before?”

“Only by myself.”

His eyes close and his body rocks toward me. He likes that answer. He tugs at my full, heavy balls. I moan in relief at the contact—then he turns on the power.

The shock jolts through my system, snapping me from my resigned limbo. I strain, trying simultaneously to escape the pain and chase it. Dominic murmurs and tugs hard on my sac.

“Christ, you’re swollen,” he rasps. “Have you been horny all day?”

“Yes, you fucking prick!”

He smiles wickedly at my sudden show of temper. “There you are.”

I moan and shake and strain. Every muscle in my body is tight. The ache along my bruised ribs is intense. Dominic tugs and twists my balls and turns up the power.

My head slams back in the swing. He doesn’t stop until I’m convulsing. Tears leak from my eyes. I want out of the cage so fucking bad.

Dominic swipes the tears away. Then he brushes his thumb over the bruises on my face. He touches my split lip. He skims the bruising along my ribs, near my crossed arms.

“Who gets to hurt you?” he asks.

My throat tightens. I accuse, “You weren’t here.”

He says, “I’m here now,” and shoves two fingers in my hole as he turns on the power. He stares into my eyes as I shake and spasm and grimace through the strange mix of pleasure and pain. My ass clenches on his fingers.

He withdraws them and turns off the power. I’m so devastated by the overload of sensations that I don’t track his movements, don’t even notice when he fits a key into the lock on the cock cage.

I gasp when the ring unlatches from around my sac. I cry out in pain as he pulls the cage off my dick and blood rushes into it.

Dominic runs his hand along my thighs and rubs his thumbs over my aching balls. He notices the way I’m tightening up and pinches the head of my cock, stopping me from coming.

“Please,” I beg him.

“Who gets to hurt you, Rafael?”

“You.”

“That’s right.”

He lets go of my cock, allowing it to lie hard against my lower belly, the head rubbing against my crossed arms as my harsh breathing jerks my body.

He wraps the shock rings around my cock and balls. He grips my shaft and turns the power on.

I scream and jolt. My dick throbs in Dominic’s hand. It’s sore, but I want him to squeeze harder.

“Please,” I gasp when he turns the power off. “ Please. ”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me. Fucking please , Dominic, fuck me . Jesus Christ, I need—”

My words dissolve into moans as he removes the shock rings and starts stroking me. He leaves the shock pads on my inner thighs. He keeps the remote in his hand. But thank fucking God, he sets his cockhead against my hole and shoves inside.

I bow up in the swing, shouting, as he fills the empty, aching space inside me. He leans over me, reaching beneath to grab a handle. Then, finally, finally, finally, he fucks me.

He doesn’t talk to me this time. He just ruts me. I am taken completely out of myself. This whole fucking day—this whole fucking week —has led up to this moment: his cock plunging in and out of my ass in absolute carnal possession.

The sound of his cock in my cum-filled ass is filthy and divine. The chains creak. He grunts. I moan and cry out—then I scream as the shock jolts through me and I come.

My cock, pinned between our bodies, rubbed by his flexing abdomen, pulses and kicks between us, shooting out spurt after spurt of cum.

Dominic turns the power off and keeps fucking me. My mind doesn’t really exist at this point, only my body. I don’t expect to come again, but I do.

I moan and clench as my cock shoots out another load. Dominic growls and fucks me harder, straining and animalistic. I’m still coming, still spurting when he roars and explodes inside me, breeding me hard and deep as his hips punch forward, milking the last of my orgasm from me.

He strains and pumps, his cock kicking hard. His teeth rake my chest.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he jerks again, still coming. “ Hnnn—fuck! ”

When his orgasm finally releases him, he collapses over me, panting and twitching with the aftershocks.

I’m already fading as he lifts from me. I only murmur when his cock slides from my hole, spilling cum. My eyes close before he kisses me.

Maybe he thinks I’ve already passed out, but I’m still there in the last second as he whispers, “My God, you are perfect.”