Locktober Pt. 08

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.

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

(Sunday morning, Week 3-Days locked-14)

The cage woke Patrick before the alarm. The ever-present pulse vibrating in his loins and his mind. His face curdled as he lifted the sheet, frowning at a wetness on the linen that felt unnatural, traitorous.

He turned and his hand touched the discarded lingerie from last night, resting between him and Karen. He touched it, feeling its softness. A memory of the last time she wore it for him moving in his head. Then he shifted closer, moving his arm over his naked wife, still sleeping blissfully. He kissed her shoulder, it felt like a reclaiming after everything that happened last night. His lip tightened against his mustache as his eyes moved to her nightstand, his sigh loud enough that his young wife finally stirred.

The huge, veiny light brown sex toy stood proudly by their bed. It looked even more obscene in the morning light. It still shined in parts that he hadn't cleaned well enough. It looked brash, arrogant, like it belonged there.

"Mmmm, last night was great," Karen yawned as her arm freed itself from Patrick's grasp, her fist balled, as she stretched.

Patrick wasn't so sure as his bewildered mind hurtled back to the night before.

*********

"Honey, what? What is that?"

Patrick still smelled like the gridiron as he stared at the massive black dildo overflowing his young wife's hand.

"It's... well... I just wanted to try something different..."

Patrick battled his inner need to please her, shaking his head to steady himself.

"It's obscene Karen, have you... have you been using that?"

"I mean, yes... kinda..."

Karen's face washed with that look of disappointment that usually defeated Patrick.

But his sensibilities urged him on.

"Karen, what've... what've you become?"

Patrick's body tensed as she looked at him, deep, her shoulders rankling.

"You act like I'm some princess," she said, her words firing out sharper than the knives in their kitchen, "Like I'm some angel..."

She was.

His angel.

But right now her halo was hard to see.

"My dear," Patrick croaked.

Her breasts protruded, bulging in the lingerie, as she crossed her arms, the dildo sagging across the wide slope of her cleavage.

She paused for a moment. Earlier that night, at Renee's urging, she had danced with a strange man. Their bodies touching, his lips on her neck.

Renee had plied her with drinks.

With her words.

Karen's moment of regret was broken by Patrick's mewling.

"It's just... so big. Honey, it's obscene..."

Karen steeled herself as her eyes wickedly flicked to his khakis for a moment before looking back up at her husband. Her frown petulant.

Renee had explained the power she had over her husband, or that she could have if she listened to her. The black man she danced with had shown her how desired she was, or could be, if she'd allowed him. And now Patrick was in front of her, his words, his very presence, dragging her back somewhere she didn't care to go.

"I knew you'd do this," she groaned, choosing her course of action.

"K," Patrick said, trying to maintain the high ground, "I've tried to play along with your little bet, really I have. But this game has gone on long enough."

Karen pursed her lips, raising her chin at him like a weapon.

"You think this is all stupid..."

Patrick couldn't help how his mustache furrowed at the thought.

"I just wanted to try new things with you," she continued.

Patrick's shoulders slouched as she pushed further. The cage betrayed him as his penis swelled against the plastic slats.

"Honey," Patrick said, "The white one was us, it was fun," he chanced. His face tightened as he eyed the massive sex toy in her hand, his mind flashing to the naked athletes he had just seen earlier that evening. Strong, proud, virile. He buried it.

"It was boring," she spat back, honest.

It had been fun... at first. Focusing on her. Centering her pleasure as the most important thing.

But feelings he didn't want to accept, and the physical and mental toll of having his penis constricted, unable to please her or himself in the ways he desired rattled him, somewhere deep.

Patrick's resolve wobbled as he thought about her for a moment. He'd agreed to the bet to help her. She was desperate for friends at work... to fit in. He had her, possessed her in a world of his own making. It was natural for her to want to broaden her horizons.

He sighed as she watched him, there many years together had given her tells when he was wavering.

"Karen, is this what you want for us," he said, as solemnly and maturely as he could.

"I just want to be allowed to explore," she replied, her voice soft.

"Allowed," Patrick repeated.

"Yes," she hissed, some mixture of immaturity and a desire for control blending.

His mind betrayed him as he wagered the dichotomy. His eyes fell to the key to his cage nestled between her breasts. She didn't know how much power she possessed. He'd felt this before, with his ex-wife, running when faced with her need for growth. A different lock, a different key,

And he, always the gatekeeper.

"Fine," he said, as they stood silently in the living room for a long moment.

"Fine isn't going to do it," she mused.

"Excuse..."

Patrick felt her finger on his lips.

"You have to want it to," she said, quietly but fiercely.

Something in Patrick quaked. But he wrestled it down as he inhaled, raising his head, proud.

"I want it then," he replied.

"K!"

Patrick yelled as he felt her grab his hand almost running back to their bedroom.

"Now," she mused as she dove onto the bed, "We're going to need plenty of lube. It hurts at first but..."

Patrick stood before the bed. His wife looked curvaceous, delicious looking, even as she laid out the sordid plan. He admired her quietly until she looked at him.

"What," she asked, already undoing her tight black lingerie.

"Are you sure," Patrick said flatly, one last gambit.

"Get undressed Patty," she purred, her eyes crossing as she held the massive, life-like dildo between them.

**********

"Coffee," he asked, his throat dry, trying to meet her eyes. His voice sounded like it was all he could offer.

"Please," she mumbled sleepily.

Patrick stood, eyeing the mess, the puddle on his side and his naked wife on the other, before making his way to the kitchen, the plastic cage and metal lock singing as he walked.

He listened to the coffee maker bubble as he looked out the window. The street was alive in the late morning, their neighbors tending the bushes in their front yards, a couple passed walking their dogs, so quaint, almost predictable, normal.

"Fudge!"

Patrick jolted at the cry from his bedroom. He double fisted their cups as he jogged back to the bedroom. Uneasy.

He'd heard the sound last night, many times.

***********

"Now, watch me first," Karen guided, her eyes on Patrick's. He nodded, he couldn't meet her eyes as he started at the blunt head of the sex toy, pressed against her opening.

"Oh god,' she moaned as she moved her hand slowly, introducing the head of the dildo inside.

Patrick gripped the lube bottle in his hand like it might save him. The life-like huge cock glistened. He had emptied half the bottle onto the huge thing at Karen's request.

"The press," she groaned, giving her naked husband a play by play of what she was feeling.

"Does it hurt," he croaked.

She gritted her teeth as she pushed another inch inside.

"At first," she growled, her tone softening as another inch sank into her, "But it's good."

Patrick's eyes fell to the strange union. His hand found her thigh as it moved between his legs, the bone of her shin pressed against his cage.

"Fudge," she cried, "It's deep..."

"Tell me," Patrick said, horrified and fascinated as her love opened wide, her petals pressed from the veiny girth.

"It's like," Karen hissed, "It's like it's digging me out."

Patrick's mouth was closed, the sound that came out was weak and desperate. A grovel.

'It's doing it," she mumbled as her legs fluttered, "Hold me."

Patrick dropped the lube bottle and fastened herself to her quivering leg.

"H-how much," Patrick stammered as he watched her resize herself.

"Four... half I think."

Patrick wrestled with the dildo already giving her more than he could as a fifth fat inch squelched inside her. And there were more inches to go.

"Ohhh my god," she blurted, her hand gripping Patrick's whole wrist as she built a rhythm with the girthy thing, the lube and her own body easing the slide.

"F-f-fudgeee," she shuddered as her hand paused, fingers shaking.

Patrick's heart sank at the clear orgasm. Her leg was writhing in his grasp, her shin pressing hard against the chastity cage.

"You're so wet," he noted.

"I-it just pulls it out of me," she reasoned as she sat, skewered on the sex toy, coming down from the orgasm.

"Lick me," she ordered, her head craned between her splayed tits, "Lick me while I use it."

Patrick released her leg and knelt down, kissing her mound, his eyes close to the messy union. He flattened his tongue, as she had taught him, lapping at her stuffed opening.

"That's my clit," she said.

"I know," Patrick said back flatly, annoyed.

"Keep going," Karen replied, ignoring him, as she began fisting the dildo inside herself.

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

"You couldn't wait," Patrick asked.

He placed the two coffee cups on the dresser and approached the bed. Karen was splayed out, pistoning the dildo greedily inside herself.

"I tried," she yelped as she slid the wicked thing inside herself, almost to the base.

"Karen, I'm concerned that..."

"Shh," she spat, her eyes closed and focused on the pleasure.

Patrick watched her nubile body writhe on the bed sheets. One hand plunging the dildo inside herself, the other gripping the fabric. She looked almost determined, a bead of sweat on her forehead as she openly fucked the big black dildo, her hips raising to her meet her thrusts.

"Fa.... Jesus... Jesus..."

Patrick watched her body shudder as the dildo did its job.

Her eyes bolted open, her face slack, like an unexpected surprise had shocked her system.

"Oh fa... oh fa... oh fa..."

Patrick shook his head at how easily the thick log of faux cock had turned his challenging, spirited wife into a blubbering mess.

"Come here, take over," she groaned, her hands falling to the bed, leaving half of the sex toy lodged in her pussy, "Just like I taught you."

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

"Move your head," Karen muttered selfishly.

Patrick obliged, burying the disdain of the life-like cock brushing against his nose as he tongued her bulging clit.

For a moment they both breathed heavily.

He looked up at his wife's, soft, curvy body, unsure.

The look she offered back was determination, control.

"I want you to take a turn," she said between husky gasps.

"I'd rather..."

"Now Patty," she said with finality.

Patrick sighed and moved to grasp the slippery, brutish toy in his two small hands. The faux veins ran like rivers down the thick chocolate shaft.

"Strong."

"Proud."

"Virile."

He hated himself for a moment as his mind traveled back to the black athletes leaving the shower after the game. He swallowed the sudden inadequacy that made him sneer quietly. Visions of the game that night, how he had served the team, celebrated their excellence and wallowed in his own station. So beneath him.

"Run the head over it," Karen cried, bringing him back to the moment.

Patrick gasped as he watched something liquidy bubble from her love, her hips moving again.

"Put it inside," she almost yelled impatiently.

"Slow," she coached.

"The stretch, it's obscene. It's..."

"So gooddddd," Karen mewled.

Patrick watched another fat inch disappear and caught himself. His cage was bulging and swollen, pressed against the bed cover. He found his hips matching his hands as he watched her flushed vagina swallow more of the sex toy.

"Hard now," Karen ordered.

"But honey," Patrick whined.

"I can take it, do it!"

Patrick found himself strangely reveling in the power he possessed in the moment. He wielded the instrument that gave her pleasure. His movements, fast when he wanted her to gasp, and slow when he wanted to toy with her.

"Such power," he said to himself.

"Oh god... oh shoot... oh god," Karen moaned. She had both hands on the sweaty sheets, using the leverage to fuck the dildo back.

**********

Patrick was pushing the meaty dildo inside his wife, obeying her directions.

She was howling now, her words like some madman trying to reason with himself. Patrick's smile faded quickly as she focused on the thing, "God, it's so good. I never knew. Jesus."

Patrick fought his eyes, his mind telling him to calm her down. To say something. To reestablish himself.

"Cum for me," was all that came out. Weak, pleading. Maybe it was his tired wrists. The promise of a slow Sunday if she'd just finish. The memory of what happened as they approached the crest of her orgasm last night.

*********

"Errrr God!"

Patrick felt his entrapped penis contract, as best it could in the wicked plastic cage. He'd taken to running his groin along the bed as he plowed the dildo inside his wife.

Her moans.

Her sweaty, wanton body.

The shriek when he clumsily got her there.

It was all too much and he felt the growing wetness against his penis as it released whatever it could from the soft friction of his hips and the fabric.

"Holy moly," Karen huffed from above, her face bathed in pleasure and completion.

Patrick wiggled his fingers, trying to bring blood back into them as he pulled the dildo from Karen's love with less care than he should have.

"Oh my God," she blurted, seeing a pearl of Patrick's seed on the slats of the ruby-red cage, white and strong red, easy to see, "It made you cum too..."

"Karen," Patrick tried to reason, as he felt the returning swell in his groin, a clear indication that the release hadn't been the pleasurable kind.

"I had no idea it could," she blathered, lost somewhere, "We can use it for you too. This is..."

Dear," Patrick spat, "No, it's late. We've had our fun. Can we just..."

Karen's eyes fixed on her out of shape husband, kneeling before her.

"Maybe we can get you a full one," she continued, "This is a good thing..."

"Honey," Patrick announced, standing and placing the dildo on her night stand, for some reason taking a Kleenex and wiping at the frothy, opaque mess on the bloated shaft, "That's enough."

"I was just," Karen said playfully as she watched Patrick walk around the bed to his side.

"You enjoyed it. That's the point. Enough for one day."

Patrick fluffed his pillow as he spoke, his face begging for a reprieve.

"I like it," she replied, running her ringed hand over his sunken chest, "When you lose control like that. You're in it with me..."

"Good night dear," Patrick insisted, facing her as he closed his eyes.

Playing possum.

"We can do it again right," she asked in the dark.

Patrick's mind applauded him as he stayed silent, his body relaxing as he felt her turn to her side on the bed.

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

Patrick came again as the sun from Sunday morning glistened on the Littleton's bed. His penis was pressed between his legs. Spitting angrily at the friction.

"Oh god," Karen moaned, it was happiness, and ecstasy, "we're both... we're both cumming!"

"Mother..."

Patrick shook the curse from his mind as their bodies settled, his still flushed and tied, hers slack and overpowered.

"Can we," Patrick chanced after a long quiet minute," Can we go relax now... no more of this... thing."

"Yes," Karen chirped, a lazy smile on her face, "Yes baby. Yes, whatever you want."

An hour later, after Patrick had fashioned a pair of stylish omelets for them, they sat on the couch in the living room. Patrick watching another nature documentary, Karen long since retiring to her phone and the group chat. Her hand sometimes playfully moving to his swollen penis, running her fingers softly over his reddened, pained testicles.

"Tosha's so gonna lose," Karen mused.

Patrick tried to focus on the screen.

"Renee's giving us the play by play," she cackled.

Patrick's hand found the remote.

As if sensing his displeasure Karen added, "Don't worry, I'm not telling them about Rufus."

Patrick looked at her.

"Rufus," Patrick replied, his eyebrows furrowing.

"That's what I named him," she said proudly.

Patrick opened his mouth to speak, settling for an open mouth that he hoped displayed his displeasure. He pursed his lips, letting it fade. Karen had returned to her phone, focusing on the little world inside the device.

She looked happy.

***********