Locktober Pt. 06

A note before Locktober: This story involves adult chastity and interracial cuckolding. If that's not what you came for, this is not the month, or story, for you. Everyone here is an adult. Nothing that follows is a brief for real life. It is a story about a lock, a marriage, and what happens when comparison walks in.

************

(Friday morning, Week 2-Days locked-12)

"I don't know about you ladies but Roy will not leave me alone!"

Tosha, was pacing the computer bay, work far from her mind, as she struck up conversation with the team, pausing the pedantic sound of clacking key strokes.

"I really thought he would fold by now," Miranda answered, pausing to sip her coffee.

"I'm asking the "Ladies Who Lock," Tosha chided, facing Garcia and Karen.

Karen found herself smiling at the new nickname the older programmer had bestowed on the women whose husbands were still in the contest.

"We could have just started a Bunco group," Garcia giggled.

The room snorted, Garcia was the team comedian.

"What about you K," Tosha said, turning her attention to the young housewife, "Did you spend some time with your new friend last night?"

Karen looked at her, hoping for once Demetrius would barge in and make them get back to work. She eyed his office door for a quick moment, trying to will her huge black boss forth to save her from the line of questioning.

His deep voice was quiet, but there, he must have been talking to a client.

"Well," Garcia added, similarly interested.

Karen's shoulders slouched as she crumbled from her friends' eyes urging her forward.

"I gave Patty the night off," she said, catching how authoritative her words came out, "Waited for him to go to sleep..."

"More," Tosha urged forth, leaning over a free swivel chair.

"Y-you guys were right," she replied, her confidence rising, "It definitely felt, like, life changing."

"OMG details," Garcia blurted.

Karen turned her head, two weeks ago her sex life was private, but the Locktober bet had changed the water cooler talk in the almost-all-female office. Her love life was basically public information at this point.

"Let's just say," she said coyly, enjoying having her officemates wrapped around her finger, "I won't be using the white one again!"

"They say, once you go black, you never go back..."

The group turned to Renee, the leggy programmer had her legs folded atop her desk, she looked like she was enjoying the conversation, a black pen moving between her lips as she watched the statement float to Karen's ears.

"Karen's a good girl," Garcia replied, "She'd never step out on Little Patty."

The insult twisted something in Karen's gut. Sure, the giant black sex toy had rocked her world last night, she'd creamed on their couch, the massive thing giving her the biggest orgasm of her life.

But it wasn't Patrick. She loved him. She'd never let herself go that far.

"He's fine," the young wife blurted, immediately wishing that she'd put forth a stronger defense.

Garcia snorted.

Karen felt the air change.

"Go easy on her Garcia," Renee called from across the room. Karen found herself strangely relieved as the office harlot came to her defense. She had told Karen privately that the other girls were setting her up to lose. She had laughed it off as jealousy. But it didn't feel that way at the moment.

"Whatever," the chubby blonde snorted, "Frank was babbling about jet skis while I sat on his face last night."

"Garcia," Tosha said wide-eyed, even the older wife knew a line had been crossed.

"You what," Karen asked.

"Read about it sweetie," Garcia replied as she rolled back to her monitor.

"Look," Tosha said, standing between the two women, trying to wrest back some sense of decorum in the tawdry moment, "We're all a little crazy right now. Let's just try to focus... on tickets."

"Fine," Garcia almost spat.

"Fine," Karen huffed.

"Littleton... my office!"

Demetrius's voice boomed from across the bay.

Karen's eyes went wide. He'd never been so loud, so forceful.

It didn't help as the group made a collective, "Ohhhhhh," as she stood and walked sheepishly across the bay.

It was sophomoric, but Karen flushed nonetheless.

************

"Littleton... my office!"

Patrick gripped the clipboard tight against his pleated slacks. He had spent the better part of the last thirty minutes trying to use the dryer in the men's room to hide the wet splotches on his pants. He held his hand against the wall and leaned his chastity-clad crotch towards the hot air, pausing multiple times and acting like he was washing his hands as men entered to use the facilities.

He found himself wandering the halls. He had papers to grade. Students would need his help. But the pulsing in his pants was making it hard to concentrate on anything beside his yearning for release.

His sojourn ended as he tried to sneak past Dean Withers office.

"Y-yes sir," Patrick replied, moving his head inside the doorway.

"Come in, lose the clipboard, we don't have hall monitors in college."

Patrick gulped as he moved the clipboard to his side and quickly took a seat in front of the dean's huge mahogany desk, hoping he hadn't noticed the wet spots.

"The boys grades aren't improving," he said, his voice filled with disappointment.

"Y- you told me to let it go. I'm tutoring them, helping where I can..."

Dean Withers looked at the thin man across from him, folding his arms as he thought quietly for a long moment.

"Maybe you're not connecting..."

Patrick whined, "I'm trying sir. You said I couldn't fail them. I have little recourse to improve them If I can't..."

"The game Saturday," Dean Withers said, his incomplete thought already making Patrick's stomach drop.

"Sir, no. On Saturdays my wife and I usually..."

For a brief moment, Patrick's mind connected how his Saturdays had changed over the past month. Before Locktober it was their night of the week to make love. But in his constrained state, and with the bet in full force, there was little chance of that happening.

"You'll be the field marshall," the dean added.

"Sir, that's a first year job. I have tenure. I..."

Patrick slumped as he saw the dean's familiar look, he was pleased with his idea, already letting it fully form, even as Patrick protested.

"You'll see them in their element, their playing the Gophers, should be a good one."

Patrick's grumble died as the dean looked at him, expecting coalescence to his idea.

"Well," the old man asked.

"Y-yes sir," Patrick replied, trying to sound enthusiastic, though he was anything but.

"Good then, I'll be in the box. Dress warm, might be a cold one."

Patrick grabbed the clipboard from the huge desk and held it to cover his groin area, suddenly uncaring at how awkward it looked.

"Bring the wife," the dean added, trying to sound chipper.

It was insult to injury. Karen hated sports. Hated when Patrick was away. Their Saturdays were theirs. Even during the bet they still connected as best they could.

He braced himself to share the disappointing news. He'd have to cook something intricate tonight.

***********

"Karen," Demetrius said, his voice authoritative, but softer now that she was standing in his doorway, "I thought we had this handled.

Karen let the clicking of keys in the computer bay fade from her mind as she focused on her black boss. She brought up her phone.

"I did. Right after we talked. You said take care of it and... I... did... oh crap."

"You didn't send it," Demetrius surmised as she stared at her phone.

"I... I must have..."

"Karen," Demetrius said as he stood and sat on his desk, his huge legs reaching the floor, "What's gotten into you?"

The young wife took the long moment between them to think. Two weeks ago she was quiet, inwardly confident, but almost overtrying to succeed at her job. Now her days were filled with a chastity-locked husband, who tried his best but it just didn't seem like enough. An office filled with sexually experienced women talking openly about her demure love life. An unmistakable yearning for a sex toy that had opened her up to new possibilities.

It all seemed too much.

"I... I'm sorry sir," was all she could muster as she studied their shoes in the doorway.

"Bet's taking a toll," Demtrius added, frank, a tinge of concern in his voice.

"Uh huh," she said, wishing for the safety of her desk.

She watched as he pondered the situation. Running his huge hand over his pointed, sharp goatee. She felt something in her stomach as she watched him, calculating, leading.

"We may have to put in some time after work next week," he opined, it was fact, but wrapped in care.

"I'll do whatever you ask," Karen replied quickly.

"Good," Demetrius added.

They shared a quick glance, Karen felt the weight of the swallow in her throat.

"In fact," the huge black man said, standing and moving past her, so close their office clothes touched, "Listen up hens," he called as he entered the computer bay.

Karen moved sheepishly behind him, barely seeing her co-workers past his wide, muscled back.

"We're going to change this bet," he said with authority and finality.

"She's scared she's gonna lose," Garcia blurted. The bay grumbled.

Demetrius lifted his index finger in the air and the chatter stopped.

"It's not about her. It's about work. New rules. I'll decide over the weekend."

Tosha spoke, seemingly for the group, "Our husbands, you can't just..."

"I can," Demetrius added sharply, "And I'm going to. Believe me, the last thing I want to spend my weekend on is thinking about your locked hubbies. But something's gotta change."

No one spoke.

Demetrius moved his body, allowing Karen to pass. The girls watched her.

"Now, back to work!"

Karen felt the looks as she tried to focus on her work. She re-sent the email to Phoenix Global, apologizing profusely and asking for their upcoming actions plans so she could review them with the team... and Demetrius... at night... alone in the office.

She felt her face flush and stood, retreating to the break room to re-fill her water bottle.

"They're going to blame," she reasoned as the water ran.

"I screwed up," she told herself.

"You okay sweet pea?"

Karen turned, Renee was leaning against the door frame of the break room.

"I... I didn't do anything," Karen mused, she felt the liquid over running her water bottle as she looked at the leggy housewife.

"It's time to take control little one," Renee purred.

Karen looked past her. Tosha and Garcia were watching, whispering to each other. They were her friends. Renee was the enemy. She couldn't side with the office harlot.

"When," Karen said softly, almost defeated.

"Drinks Saturday night," Renee replied, "I'll send the deets."

"Saturday won't work, Patrick and I usually...."

Her mind flashed to her husband's out of shape physique and his penis, the only one she had truly ever known, bloated and angry-looking in the ruby-red chastity device. Then, just as quickly, to the meaty, mighty chocolate colored dildo hidden beneath their bed. She and Patrick usually made love on Saturday's but now she was thinking of chasing the pleasure she had felt with "Boyfriend dick," just last night. The way she had writhed, shuddered, wet the couch with her arousal.

"It'll help him too," Renee added, "I'll send deets later."

And just like that she was gone. Karen felt a sinking feeling in her gut as she tried to figure out how she would broach the subject with her poor, defeated husband.

************

"So, you won't believe this, it's funny really," Patrick said, dancing around delivering the news of his Saturday evening assignment to his wife.

"What's up love," she said, trying to sound chipper, as she wrestled with telling Patrick she would be unavailable on their usual night together.

"So Dean Withers thought I should serve as the field marshall at the game tomorrow night."

Karen paused, sensing a solution to her burden, "Isn't that, like, a first year thing?"

Patrick nodded, thinking quickly, "I think he thinks it'll help morale. The other faculty seeing someone of my stature helping out."

"Oh, makes sense," Karen replied, her face studying her plate.

"What's wrong, is it the sauce?"

"No, it was amazing, the sauce was perfect," Karen replied, wiping her mouth with her napkin and breathing in, "I, umm, actually made plans for Saturday night as well."

"You did," Patrick asked, "With who?"

Karen suddenly felt defensive, "I mean, I have friends you know."

Patrick held up his hands, enjoying a moment of softness from his wife amid the sudden tumult caused, in his mind, by the Locktober bet.

"Kidding," he mused, a half truth.

"I'm actually getting drinks with Renee," she replied, mostly into her napkin.

"Renee," Patrick replied, scanning his memory of Karen's co-workers, "I thought we didn't like her?"

Karen nodded, almost sharply as he responded, "Well, we do now."

Patrick sensed a tension in his young wife and he stood, circling the table, he stood over here, melting as her green eyes beamed up at him. He placed his slight hands on her shoulders and began rubbing.

"I know we're going to miss Saturday," he said.

"It's our night," she added.

Patrick kept working on her shoulders, finding a particularly twisted knot with his pinky finger.

"Maybe," he chanced, "Maybe it's okay to, you know, blow off steam every now and again. Of course I want to be with you. But, sometimes, well sometimes we have to do what we have to do."

"Okay Dad,' Karen grumbled.

"It's good for you to spend time with other women," he added, "You can talk about things, maybe we can't talk about."

Karen's mind flooded with everything she had learned over the last two weeks since the team's love lives were laid bare.

"We're almost halfway babe, the money, the trip. We're close."

"And then, this whole month will be a distant memory," Patrick added.

They were both quiet.

Patrick unsettled at his place in their home, unable to fulfill his husbandly duties because of the dastardly chasity device.

Karen because the last two weeks had unlocked a door she didn't even know was locked, or that there even was a door. She was a virgin when she met Patrick. He was the only man she'd ever been with, but the bet had opened her up in more ways than one.

Minutes passed.

Karen spoke first, "I want to try something with you."

"Do I have a choice," her husband chuckled.

"Let's shower. The girls told me about something I want to try."

Patrick lifted his fingers from her relaxed shoulders, smiling as he sensed her ease.

"Lead the way..."

*********

Patrick's mouth fell as Karens stood naked before him in their bedroom.

"She's a goddess," he thought as he admired her curves, the swell of her breasts, the way her hips flared almost comically, the roundness of her firm ass. Her beauty resolved him, the smugness of the fact that she was his and his alone swelling him with pride. The swell transferred and his penis barged at the gates of the plastic cage engulfing his penis.

"You look backed up," she said, his penis was a deep red, looking like a small, angry animal.

"You have no idea," he chirped, feeling her hand on his swollen gonads.

"This will help," she replied, "Get on the bed, put a pillow under your head."

Karen watched as her caged, skinny husband moved on the bed and assumed the position she had requested.

"What now," he asked.

Karen answered by moving and planting her full weight on his belly, her nubile form rising above him as she sat on his paunch.

"So, the girls call it face sitting. It's like how you've been doing, except I control everything."

Patrick smiled at her as she shimmed up to his bird chest, "You already control everything, my love."

"Let's just try," Karen mused as she gripped the head board and hovered her groin over her husband.

"How's the view, professor?"

Patrick admired the shape of her, the smell, the way her love was already pulsing and gaping above his face.

"Tell me if you can't breath," she said with finality as she lowered herself onto her husband's face.

"Mppffmmm," Patrick announced, a muffled sound of surprise as his face was engulfed by his wife's pussy.

"Okay down there," she purred as she felt his facial features against her wetness.

"Yessprfhhh..."

"Then get licking," she replied, smiling at herself as she rode his face.

Patrick felt trapped. He considered his wife meek, the fairer sex, beautiful in her softness.

But now, he felt the power she possessed, the weight.

His arms were pinned to his side, stuck in place by her thick thighs. He jostled for a moment, realizing escape was impossible. He hardened his tongue, letting her control the action.

"Yes, Patty, yes," she cried, sounding like a pleased coach, "Keep doing that."

He felt her heat against his mouth. And her ample ass as she lowered herself further. She bucked against his face for a good minute before she cried.

"Close, don't stop, don't you dare stop... no!"

Patrick tapped at her legs, moving his face as he fought for air. His lungs rejoiced as Karen lifted herself slightly. Light shining in where her thighs and ass cheeks had shrouded him in darkness.

"Okay," she asked, trying to sound caring when her body was begging her to slam herself down again.

"Y-yes," Patrick stammered, "need air," he gasped, a small laugh carrying.

"Oh stop," Karen groaned, "Stay there."

Patrick didn't have much say in the matter as Karen swiveled atop his sunken chest, her wet vagina still inches from his face, as she turned to face away from him.

"Hows the view," she asked lovingly.

"Breathtaking," Patrick replied, pleased with his own humor.

"I was close before," She said, a serious want reemerging, "Need your best effort this time."

"Yes boss," Patrick moaned as he felt his face enveloped by the heaviness of her wide bottom again.

Karen bucked her hips now, searching for her husband's tongue and smiling when their bodies connected.

"Fuck," she whispered, barely audible, the new sensation brought it out of her. Her hand ran to her lips, squeezing her smile. She hoped Patty hadn't heard her.

"Whff's tha," he asked, his mouth muffled by her throbbing sex.

"N-nothing," she answered, "Keep going."

Patrick couldn't hear much as he licked at anything that crossed his path. In the darkness of her crevice, he found peace in helping her find her pleasure. He lost himself in the sound of their wetness, squelching with each gyration of her hips, each smack of his lips and tongue against her vagina.

The pent up two weeks had seen him flail similarly at work and as a husband. But as a device for her pleasure, that he was doing well enough at. Something warmed in his gut at the thought.

He tried to fight off the grimace, and what would come after. But the moment was too much.

Karen was enjoying her vantage atop her husband's face. She was sliding her pussy up and down, burying her husband in her wide bottom when it suited her. Reveling in his ravenous gasps as she lifted, just so, every few seconds. She played with her languishing breasts, trying to create a mixture in her body that would push her over the edge.

She felt powerful for a moment, lording over all she saw.

"Baby... right there... keep your tongue in it... yesssss."

Then her eyes fell to Patrick's poor, imprisoned penis. It looked like it might explode.

"No," she thought, crestfallen, sensing her quest for satisfaction with her husband nearing an end.

"Grgghmmmm!!!"

Patrick lament sounded almost stubborn as he wallowed in the misery of another pleasure-less release. Like he wanted it, but didn't at the same time.

"Keep licking," Karen shouted, trying in vain to meld them in pleasure.

She watched as three streams of sperm ran from the cage, fighting through the slats and running along the plastic. They looked almost like tears as they settled at the base.

His furious taps on her thighs were quick, needy.

She moved aside as his legs kicked, seeming more in frustration than ecstasy.

"D-did that help," Karen asked as she turned on his gaunt frame, finding Patrick staring at the ceiling.

"S-still nothing," Patrick said flatly, "But it was the biggest yet."

"You know we could... experiment with other ways... the girls said..."

Patrick looked at her, trying in vain to maintain his station as the one in control, the one with the answers. His voice cracked as he replied.

"I.. I think we should call it a night."

Karen rubbed his back as he moved to turn off the bedside lamp.

"Babe, we can do this... together. As long as the cage stays on, we can get... creative."

"I know the rules," Patrick grumbled as he turned to face his wife. He frowned as her mind looked elsewhere.

"K," he asked, "Did you, you know...'

"I bet the girls figured it out," Karen responded, "That's got to be how they're still going strong."

"Honey," he said, trying to reel her back in.

"What? Oh, no, I don't think so."

Karen watched her husband sink into the bed with visible anguish as he wrestled with the fruitlessness of his efforts.

"But, it's okay," she replied, trying to soothe him. She placed her hand on his chest, "Hey," she said kindly, smiling at him, "You did your best."

Patrick found his moment as he smiled at her, "Honey, we're going to win. I think we should book everything tomorrow. During the day. When we're together."

Karen softened at his support, "You're right, of course you're right."

"I always am," Patrick chuckled as he turned to his side.

Karen heard him fade to sleep after a few minutes, the clinking from his crotch quieting. She looked at him for a long moment.

She'd get control of the bet.

She'd figure out a way to give her husband the release he craved.

She'd figure it all out.

"Tomorrow," Her eyes closed at the thought.

Then they opened a few seconds later.

She looked at Patrick, he was already snoring.

"It's okay," she told herself, "I didn't quite get there, so it's okay."

She was already kneeling by the bed as she fished for the giant black dildo. It emerged like a sword unsheathed between the spare pillow it was wedged between. She looked at it, feeling the pulse of her pussy as she eyed it in the dark. It looked powerful... and ready.

"Don't start with me," she whispered to it, with a playful annoyance, as it waggled in her small hands.

She got to her feet and tiptoed from the room, heading towards the couch to seek completion.

Pleasure.

Satisfaction.

***********