Locktober Pt. 12

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.

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

(Thursday, Week 3-Days locked-18)

"I know it doesn't seem this way, but this is all for the best."

Dean Withers smiled at Patrick from his huge leather chair in his office, the smile of a man that had filed the solution.

Patrick didn't feel that way as he crossed and re-crossed his legs, hoping to find a position that didn't irritate his caged penis. The ruby-red cage had been mean all morning.

It didn't feel that way as he remembered how Karen had commented that his chastity-clad penis looked "cute," as she took his morning picture and sent it to the group chat, confirming the couple was still alive in the Locktober bet.

And it certainly didn't feel that way, when he thought of last night, her fingering him to another unsatisfying orgasm, before she left the room with Rufus, the huge black dildo, to "finish."

But he hadn't been fired. That had been the whole of the good news.

"Thank you sir, I'm ready to put all this behind us," Patrick said, the cage shifting, undercutting his politeness as he fought a grimace.

"As am I, my boy. I'm glad Karen was able to come up with a solution."

Patrick's smile was weak. His morals already spent. Karen had dismissed them last night at Giorgio's.

"She's got a good head on her shoulders," the old man continued.

Patrick nodded, agreement seemingly the quickest path to an exit.

"Well," Patrick said with finality, "I should be getting to class..."

Dean Withers nodded and stood, extending his hand across the desk.

"Good. Then there's just the matter of apologizing to the team."

Patrick felt his stomach drop as he stared at the dean, his hand plastered to his side.

"Sir, do you think that's really necessary?"

"I'll set it up for you to speak with them before the game Saturday," Dean Withers replied, not unkind, but not up for discussion either.

His superior's hand hung over the mahogany desk, like a final coalescence to the debasement he was feeling.

He shook, because the hand was not going away. The cage answered the grip, a rude little swell.

Patrick listened to the click-clacking of his cage as he walked down the hall towards his office, each step a small announcement he hoped no one would hear.

He paused, letting his back fall against a poster on the wall advertising the team's game that week. He looked up, into Devon's printed face, arms crossed, looking down on him from the paper.

He blinked his eyes as he tried to make sense of the free fall he was feeling, finding it dizzying.

He texted Karen as he shut the door to his office, his face red, palms clammy.

"Not feeling well. Going home."

He emailed his students, packed his things and headed towards his car.

Aching for home.

Praying for relief.

***********

"Roy's got his eyes on a new drone," Tosha said with a laugh, "Man's got a thing for toys."

"Well, he's been one all month," Heather chirped from her corner.

The office laughed and bubbled with glee.

"Bradley already gives me whatever I want," Renee added, though her peers seemed to ignore her boast.

"Geez Renee, do you keep his balls in a jar," Garcia chuckled meanly.

The two shared a glare.

"How about you K," Tosha asked.

Karen puttered for a moment, her mind elsewhere, "Oh, we already booked a trip to Jamaica, we leave the day after we win."

"Saucy," Miranda called between sips of coffee.

"Confident," Karen answered proudly.

The click-clacking of keys returned as the bay focused on a particularly heavy day of tickets. Karen checked her phone as she reviewed the files for the meeting with Phoenix Global that evening.

She made a pouty face as she read Patrick's text.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied, "Anything I can do?"

"No," Patrick responded, "Just going to ice myself and relax."

Karen felt a tinge of guilt at what her husband was going through. The bet was doing a number on him, at work and in bed. He hadn't been himself in weeks.

"Cream's in the cabinet," she texted back helpfully.

"You're back late tonight right?"

"Yep, Phoenix, LOL," she replied.

"Okay, going to try and sleep..."

Karen could feel his tiredness through the phone, wishing she could relieve him.

"Karen, still good for tonight?"

Demetrius poked his head out of the office, smiling at her.

Karen looked at her phone, then back at her muscled black boss.

"Of course," she called back across the bay.

She tried to keep a straight face at the murmurs from the girls.

"Cool," Demetrius said, before disappearing back in his office.

"Don't let him work you too hard," Tosha said with a smile.

"She's blushing," Miranda added.

"It's just work," Karen replied, surprised at the bubbly girlishness in her voice.

"Egg rolls and Phoenix Global. Riveting."

Karen clocked the slight annoyance in Renee's voice, the young wife turned and gave her a friendly frown.

"All alone with the big boss," Garcia chirped.

"Stop G, that's not our Karen," Tosha replied, like a mother hen.

"I'd do it," the heavy-set blonde programmer grumbled.

"Y'all are the worst," Karen chimed in, basking for a moment in the seeming return to camaraderie. The bet getting down to the final three wives had raised the tension in the office considerably. She hoped it would stick.

"Can you grab dinner for us on your way home?"

The text from Patrick dinged loudly on Karen's desk. She smiled, telling him yes. Her ears perked up as a kind thought crossed her mind.

"I'll do you one better Patty," she thought to herself.

The women watched as she strode across the bay to Demetrius's office. She looked back quickly, trying to catch them, and smiled as the women feigned working.

She rolled her eyes as she knocked.

"Hey, Patty's not feeling well, I was going to bring him some soup or something. That okay?"

Demetrius looked away from his computer, nodding at her, "Sure, I'll make our dinner pickup. Can you grab it on your way back?"

"Of course, boss," she said with a smile.

***********

"Watch them now," the British narrator droned, "You'll see the male gorilla, the silver-back just there, he's the alpha. Stacking his claim to the females he wishes to breed."

Patrick tried to focus on the documentary as he lounged, the living room dark as dusk fell outside.

"The chest beating is a symbol," the man on the screen continued, "the smaller males will move aside as the big, burly chap has his way with the female gorillas. The others will preen all they want, they'll be tolerated, allowed to watch the scene play out."

Patrick muted the show as he groaned from the aching in his slacks. He made it another minute, watching the silverback stride across the jungle canopy and mount one of the females from behind, as the other male gorillas watched.

Patrick rubbed his temples. The meeting with the dean still sitting in his jaw. Another quiet Saturday with Karen lost. He'd have to prepare his apology speech to the team at some point. And, underneath it all, the constant, mean ache of the cage.

Karen wouldn't be home for hours. The thought should have been a relief. Instead his cock swelled against the plastic, like it had been waiting for this opportunity.

Patrick didn't decide to get up. He just found himself moving down the hall, laptop cradled under his arm. He laid on their bed, resting the computer on the crest of his paunch. He'd watched his fair share of porn, he was, of course, once a more younger, virile man. But he'd grown above it over the years.

The thought soothed him as he fired up the search engine and typed in what he was looking for. If he had been an amateur at voyeurism in his older years, he'd learned the way back over the past few weeks.

He sighed as the scene fired up.

A thickly built white woman was leading an absolutely massive black man into the camera view, their nude bodies looking made for each other. Her soft curves meshing with the chiseled physique of the porn actor. He fondled her huge, fake breasts, and she ran her small hand down his defined torso, grasping her hand around his huge, soft cock.

"Jesus," Patrick groaned, his mouth hanging open as he watched them begin to mate. He lurched towards his bedside, retrieving the bottle of lube that contained a small amount, sloshing in the bottom, as he settled back into place.

He stared enthralled at the screen as his shiny hand moved down, past the computer, to settle just below the ruby-red cage. He lifted his legs as his fingers tested the area.

He inhaled deeply as his wet finger moved between his splayed buttocks.

The woman on the screen was moaning as the black man fed her his thick, dark cock.

He exhaled as he plunged his finger inside himself, the laptop jostling, as he tested his body.

He closed his eyes as he tried to delve his digit deeper. Like Karen had done for him the last two nights. The position was awkward. His short arms and bulbous gut were a deterrent as he waggled his finger as deep as it could go.

"God..."

His moan was breathy and frustrated. He jammed his fingers, trying Karen's curl technique.

His penis crowded the front of the cage, like a prisoner watching someone new walk down the cell block. He felt his toes curl, but grimaced in agony as he couldn't quite reach the depths he needed.

A thin bead emerged, watery and scared, from Patrick's efforts.

Patrick fell back on the bed in a huff, still frustrated, as the couple on screen sang to each other in lustful groans and moans. Their voices filled the bedroom.

He turned his head towards Karen's side of the bed, his eyes moving slowly towards her nightstand.

Rufus stood there, tall and proud. Long and thick. Patrick's mind fired back to the many nights he'd watched Karen use the thick sex toy to bring herself to multiple explosive orgasms.

His brow furrowed as he remembered her say how the black dildo, "Just drew them out of me."

He closed his eyes as he lumbered across the bedspread, reaching his hand to the nightstand and retrieving the giant, ebony, veined faux-cock.

He settled on the middle of the bed, his other hand searching for the bottle of lube as he eyed the girthy thing. It was his enemy. An object stealing his wife's affections and attention. But in the dim light of the master bedroom it seemed like what Patrick needed more than anything.

Relief.

He breathed quietly for a few long moments, still considering, weighing. His hand moved while his mind still pondered. He felt his legs spread, wide as he could, as he felt the cold plastic against the reddened heat of his near-bursting penis. His body jumped as he felt the soft, relentlessness of the blunt head against his rosebud.

He gulped, his mind settled. His teeth gritting as his ring succumbed, the pained press blaring in his exit.

*********

Karen let herself in quietly, in case Patrick was sleeping.

The apartment was quiet, the tv was on but muted. It felt so unwelcoming.

She tip-toed towards their bedroom, Patrick's favorite take-out gazpacho in a plastic bag by her side.

"He must be exhausted," she thought as her hand touched the knob to their bedroom.

She froze as she heard his voice.

"Oh God..."

Her mouth fell open as her eyes beaded, she opened their door softly, holding the knob so the lock didn't click.

"Please.... please..."

Now Karen's green eyes widened, shock spreading across her beautiful face.

From her vantage, she tried to reason with what she was seeing.

Patrick's pasty backside was facing her, his thin legs waving in the air. He was greedily feeding Rufus into his splayed hole, moving it swiftly in and out. His cage bobbed frantically, sandwiched between his legs, beneath the powerful dildo sliding inside him, gaping him.

Patrick's moans filled the room. They were pleasured, but more like sobs, like he was fighting the feeling.

Karen's look of shock faded as she watched him pummel his bum with the thick, faux-cock. Her eyes turned to something like pity, as a smile curled on her lips.

A minute passed as he fucked himself, the sound wet and pressured, like something so big trying to fit into something so small.

"Oh God... give it to me... I need it... fudgeeeee."

Karen's breath caught as Patrick seized on the bed. A thin, watery salvo of spunk sprayed from the cage. One blast on the bed spread, followed by two lesser jets that left a wet streak leading to his body. She watched as a few more drops of his semen dribbled from the slate.

His breathing was ragged.

"You're not breaking any rules," Karen said as she took a seat on the edge of the bed.

She giggled as Patrick flopped over, Rufus dislodging and thumping wetly against the bedspread.

The look of horror on his face was epic.

"Karen! I... it's not what it looks like..."

Karen talked through her grin.

"You little slut," she purred.

"I... it was the pressure. Nothing could reach. I'm... I'm so sorry..."

Karen eyed him for a long moment, almost wickedly, before standing.

"Don't stop on my accord professor," she mused, setting his soup out on their dresser.

"Karen, please..."

She raised a finger, ending his groveling.

"You need what you need," she said smartly, "We can talk more later..."

Patrick moved to the edge of the bed, on his knees, his hands clasped in prayer.

"Honey, stay. It was a one-time thing. I just... I needed it real bad!"

Karen raised her eyebrows, accepting and filled with ownership.

"Gazpacho, just like you like..."

"K, come on..."

"Be back later," she mused as she headed for the door, "Have fun tonight..."

Patrick felt empty, as he watched the door close behind her.

*********

"You sold cars?"

Karen was halfway through an eggroll, smiling, at the edge of Demetrius's desk. The long meeting with Phoenix Global had paused for a quick dinner. Karen listened as her black supervisor had controlled the meeting. He was open when he needed to be, firm when it called for it. Focusing on the conversation and Demetrius had helped her push the sight of Patrick using Rufus from her mind.

She found herself enjoying the moment as they shared the Chinese.

"Is that so hard to believe," the huge black man responded.

"I guess not, you're very persuasive," Karen added, ducking her face back into her Lo Mein after their eyes met for a long moment.

"And what about you, you were a psychology major right?"

Karen shook her head, slurping up an errant noodle, "Poli Sci."

"That's like Underwater Basket Weaving," Demetrius said with a smile.

"Hey," Karen replied, slapping his huge arm playfully.

"Kidding," he replied, his eyes on her hand as she slowly withdrew it back to her chopsticks.

"You sound like my husband," Karen said, her mind flashing back to the moment, just an hour ago, catching him rutting against Rufus on their bed.

"Oh boy," Demetrius said, fighting his mouthful of food and raising his hands, "I'm surely not your husband!"

Karen's eyes filled with playfulness as she blurted, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Demetrius studied her for a moment, weighing his response.

"You'd never catch me dead in one of those contraptions..."

Karen's face reddened as she envisioned her husband, naked, pasty, the ruby-red cage beaming around his constricted penis. She took in Demetrius, his arms bulged at his tight polo, tattoos running down his arms. He was simply enormous, he owned the room without trying.

"Is that so," she said quietly but firmly.

"Wouldn't fit me anyway," Demetrius replied casually, his eyes watching her take in his response.

"I... that's..."

"Oh snap," Demetrius crowed, "They're coming back on."

Karen slid her swivel chair across the carpet, sitting next to Demetrius so close their bodies touched as the Phoenix Global leaders came back on line.

She listened as Demetrius negotiated with the team across the computer screen. She would nod when he he sought her apporval, amplify his message when he asked. She found herself losing focus as she watched him speak.

So forceful.

So in control.

Her eyes wandered down his athletic body, settling on his crotch, the lump, that certainly wasn't a chasity cage, pronounced.

"Sound good Karen," he said, his eyes catching hers on the way up from his pants.

"What? Oh, yes. Sounds great."

The pair paused for a moment, waiting for the meeting to end.

"Nice job, Littleton," Demetrius said, excited and loud, raising his huge hand to hers.

Karen smiled at him and she raised her hand, noticing how small her pale hand was against his massive ebony mitt, as they high-fived.

"They were so mad at first, you really handled them," Karen said, admirably.

"Got them to up their order, and commit to our process, not bad I'd say," he replied.

The next moment was awkward. The meeting had concluded. But they stayed close in the small office. Neither making a move to stand.

"Gotta get home to Patty, make sure he's behaving," Demetrius asked.

"Oh, he's behaving just fine," Karen responded, still not making a move towards the door and home.

"It's funny," Demetrius said, leaning a bit closer to the young wife, "You don't seem to me to be the type that likes a man that behaves..."

Karen flushed, she could smell his strong, woody cologne wafting in her nostrils. Something bubbled in her as she warmed to his closeness.

"I... I can make a man behave," she said, softly and unsure.

"And what about you," Demetrius asked, as he placed his huge black hand over hers, "Are you the type to behave?"

Karen blushed.

An invisible spark cracked between them.

Everything rushed at once as Karen opened her mouth, her eyes closed. She was leaning forward in her swivel chair, the plastic wheel screeching as they collided.

Something in her rejoiced as her soft lips touched the black man's mouth.

The pair kissed frantically in the quiet office, the sound of the new contract from Phoenix Global printing on the printer in the bay.

Karen's head rushed, lifting as Demetrius grabbed her by the waist and kissed along her neck, standing both of them up.

"D," Karen huffed through heavy breaths, "We shouldn't..."

He answered her by taking her head in his hands and staring into her eyes, "You get what you want this month, that's the deal right?"

"Y-yes," she moaned as he paused to nimble her ear.

"I think you want me," the black man whispered.

"Y-yessssss."

Karen fought at the Demetrius's polo, helping it lift over his sinewy torso, her eyes widened at his body, adorned with wicked looking tattoos, stories of his life, told in ink and muscle.

"My God," she admired as she felt him pull at the fabric on her shoulders, kissing her bare shoulder as he skillfully removed her bra, leaving her top bare as his eyes washed over her.

"Incredible," he said in his manly timber.

Karen's eyes closed as someone other than her husband touched her breasts for the first time in years. She felt her legs quake as his huge hands enveloped her fleshy bosom, hefting them, licking them, rubbing his face in her flesh. Her huge breasts overflowed Patrick's hands, but Demetrius's large paws kneaded them, controlled them. She moaned as his tongue flicked at her pert nipples.

He stepped back to free himself. His belt slipped free. The zipper descending.

And then it was out, curving leftward, thick against his thigh.

Bigger than Rufus. Darker. It was thicker at the base than the toy she had trained on, the head broader, lighter than the shaft put pulsing darker as it hardened before her eyes. A vein, like a lightning bolt, ran along the top, moving as he stroked himself.

Warm.

Alive.

She yelped as Demetrius easily lifted her skyward, swiping at his desk to free space for her.

Their lips locked again as he moved his huge hands down to her dress, pulling it down until it pooled beneath his desk.

He looked at her as his thumbs ran along the hem of her panties.

She nodded frantically.

He worked them down to join her dress on the floor, then ran his hands up her thighs, kissing her skin.

"Oh my dear god," she shouted as he hefted his heavy cock and placed it atop her mound. The flared head hid her navel, showing the depth his weapon could reach.

"Breath baby," he huffed as he ran his cock along her pussy, smiling as her wetness lubed his manhood.

She did.

It didn't help.

Her eyes stayed on it, green and fiery. It felt hot as it nudged her, and she lost herself.

This wasn't Patrick.

It wasn't Rufus.

She understood she was about to learn a long due lesson.

"Holy Jesus fucking Christ!"

Karen's top teeth found her bottom lip as she felt the press, different from Rufus, hotter and living, a real breaking she had never felt in her life.

Her hands clawed at the desk as Demetrius pushed his thick hips.

The head breached. A burn, then a give.

She cried out, raw, the sound bouncing around the small office.

"So tight," Demetrius growled as he fed her hungry pussy another inch.

Her eyes glazed at the wedging feeling of his fat cock pushing against her walls, her wetness easing the slide of his huge, veiny cock.

She breathed as she felt his hand on her mound, pushing slightly, holding her, owning her, as half his beastly cock settled inside her.

"Fuck, D! Fuck!"

Demetrius withdrew and began pumping.

Their voices traded as the pleasure built between them.

"Nice and fucking wet for me," he groaned.

"So fucking big," she exhalted back.

They rutted in the dimly lit office for long minutes. Demetrius humped, relentless and steady, his face focused and efforting.

"You gonna cum for me," he said, his voice deep and steady as their bodies met wetly on the desk.

She shrieked as her pussy clamped around half of the black man's pumping shaft. He froze, buried inside her as she writhed in the throws of a sudden, powerful orgasm.

"Shit," she yelled, "Shit, shit, shit!"

Karen felt Demetrius's strong hand move behind her neck, bending her up, her eyes watching more of his length disappear as he fucked her through her climax. She watched, enthralled and horrified, as he lifted a heavy leg on the desk, still driving inside her, the new angle allowing him to enter her to the root of his massive, pummeling cock.

"Tell me," he growled, as he pumped his full length in long strokes that made her splayed breasts dance.

"It's amazing," she cried, "I've never been fucked like this... never like this!"

"That's my girl," he crowed as he sleeved himself inside her, pausing to let her feel the fullness.

Karen's eyes were wide as she felt his long, girthy beast nestled inside her. Looking like it would never leave.

She croaked as a second orgasm ran from her pussy, up her stomach and settling in her mind.

"Easy baby," Demetrius croaked, letting his thumb brush against her strained face.

"I.... holy fuck..."

She batted her eyes, clearing her head as she looked at her black boss with reverence.

They smiled.

"Demetrius, that was... that was fucking amazing," she mewled, running her hands over his chisled torso.

"You needed that," he chuckled.

"You have no idea," she giggled back, "I've never felt it like that. You're... you're a machine."

Her face changed at the look he was giving her. She tried to speak but felt his huge hands on her hips, turning her over on his desk.

"We ain't done yet baby," he announced.

She felt her breasts mash against the desk, her face moving to the surface, pressed against a stack of change orders.

Karen's eyes were wide as she felt Demetrius bat his still rigid, wet cock against her from ass, like it was knocking.

He entered.

Faster now.

No more waiting.

She screamed as his length fed inside her, more easily now.

His hips snapped, the wet sounds sharp and quick in the office.

His balls swung heavy against the tops of her thighs, she felt the sting of their weight with each thrust, the depth unmistakable as they slapped her pussy with each plunge.

"OhhhmyGodddd!!!"

She came again, almost at once, a broken cry, cunt pulsing, the desk rattling beneath them.

He did not ease.

He caught her elbows, pulled them back, and arched her. Her shoulders lifted off the wood, spine bowed.

He fucked her like that, holding her up, her feet barely touching the carpet, the angle meaner, deeper, like he was using her body to get himself there. She could feel the weight of him, the balls mashing as they met her, ownership in the grip.

Their bodies danced for more long minutes, Karen grimaced as he tested her pussy's fortitude, his manly grunts spurring her on despite the pulsing in her pussy.

"I'm gonna finish in you, " he said, low and certain. Not a question.

"You're taking all of it..."

"Cum," she cried, her voice cracking, "fucking cum for me."

He roared. Hips locked. The heat flooded her in thick pulses, a dousing she felt high and hot. He held her there until he finished, talking through the mighty gush of his seed.

"Fucking taking my fucking cum..."

He released her, letting her tired body fall to rest on the hard, wooden desk. She shook, her legs dangling lifelessly, arms splayed, leaking around him as he stayed buried for a long moment.

"So, about those change orders," he said jokingly, spanking her exposed ass firmly.

"Shut the fuck up," she babbled, happily, letting the warmth spread through her body as she felt his copious cum rush from her splayed vagina.

He helped her up from the desk, moving her to face him. Her womanly body, next to his impossibly muscled mass, his spent, huge cock touching her leg.

They smiled as they sat down in their swivel chairs, a silence between them.

"You okay," Demetrius asked, running a finger through her sweaty hair.

"Yeah," she said through deep breaths, "You really owned me..."

Demetrius shook his head, his eyes humored and knowing.

"That's what a real man does K," he mused.

She sighed, "T-thanks for this," she replied, standing, finding her legs wobbly.

She felt a tinge of regret as she envisioned Patrick, at home, waiting for her. The weeks had been an education for her. Tonya had told her how Patrick really was, Renee had shown her how to expose it, Rufus had rearranged her opinion of him and Demetrius had shown her what real pleasure felt like. And still, she felt the coil in her gut as she thought of her wayward husband.

"Don't punish yourself Littleton," Demetrius said in his deep timber, "We can do it again."

Karen looked at him, he sat before her, naked and proud, his huge cock dangling over the office chair, fat and tired. He was everything Patrick wasn't, he'd shown her exactly that.

She felt her guilt wash away as he handed her her disheveled work clothes.

"Maybe," she replied, walking backwards, feeling the cool air of the bay against her backside.

"Probably," she added, a smile emerging, as she watched the word land, eliciting a pleased look from her huge-cocked, black boss.

***********

"Y-you're... you're home?"

Patrick rubbed his eyes as Karen stumbled loudly into their bedroom. He'd waited up as long as he could, the clock by his bedside reading 11pm, but the day and his shame at being caught in the throes of Rufus had sapped his energy.

"You're a mess," he said, rubbing his eyes and taking in his wife's disheveled state.

"Shit," Karen said in her mind, as she stole a look at herself in the mirror.

She'd sat in her car in the parking lot of the data center for a good thirty minutes, centering herself and trying to make herself presentable. Her body ached from the intense fucking Demetrius had bestowed upon her, her pussy pulsing, unused to the powerful pounding and she fidgeted each time a slug of his copious sperm bubbled from her sex and wet her inner thighs.

"Meeting ran long," she said softly as she sat on her side of bed, taking off her clothes, feeling the soreness of her body with each movement.

"Karen, about tonight," Patrick replied, his words stumbling out unsure, "Can we talk?"

Karen inhaled deeply as she looked at the bathroom, the shower calling to her.

"It's been a day, I'm going to shower. We can talk tomorrow."

She felt Patrick's hand on her lower back. His touch soft, where Demetrius's huge powerful grip had held her haunches as he fucked her, relentless and powerfully.

"Okay, he replied weakly, his hand leaving her as he turned on his side, "We've got to get back to normal..."

Karen turned, seeing his back. Her eyes beaded as she focused on Rufus, now sitting proudly on Patrick's nightstand.

She shook her head, almost smiling.

"We both need what we need," she said softly, before raising her aching body and trudging to the shower.

***********

"You little slut.."

His penis spit at her angrily.