Eves Cage

By Eve St. Albert

Eve brought home a box and set it down on the coffee table in front of them.

Allan looked at her, she'd just returned from one of Chris's encounters. As usual, her hair was disheveled, her pupils were dilated, she was slightly flush, she moved with a kind of boneless loose limbed grace. Despite herself, she smelled of sex and submission. Even her breath smelled slightly of him, of his cock and his semen.

Whenever she came back from Chris, she was a little off, as if he'd changed her head space and it took a little time to refocus as herself.

Allan knew Chris ruthlessly demanded deep submission from her, he enforced it. And in their psychological and sexual dance, she yielded. It excited him to see her totally subsumed like this, imagining what she did or would do or would be capable of doing.

When Eve was like this, he felt a subliminal excitement. He saw the pictures, the text messages, even the video clips. He listened to Chris's heavy handed innuendo, always just short of openly saying 'I'm fucking your wife, and fucking you over.' He heard her stories.

But when she was like this, after a session with Chris, bottoming out in submission, when the woman he knew and loved had been replaced and reshaped... there was something about that, which made his heart pound.

She put the box on the table and nuzzled up to him on the couch, curling against him like a cat.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A gift from Chris."

&&&

It was like a frog in a pan of water, slowly heating up.

Eve had always had a submissive streak. Perhaps that was why he'd won her. He had pursued, and she'd allowed herself to be taken, to fall in love, to grow close.

But Allan was never truly dominant. He wasn't submissive either. His personality, and his world view, the way he thought and lived simply didn't operate on that narrow spectrum. He could do it, but his heart wasn't in it. He simply wanted to live, to love, to enjoy life. Games and hierarchies touched no innate need within him.

But it was in Eve. There was something there, a need, a craving, ignored or overlooked, but a little crack in her soul that ran down all the way to the core. A crack that could be opened, that wanted to open. There was something Eve needed, that Allan hadn't understood. And because it wasn't truly in him, it was a need that he couldn't meet for her.

Which was where Chris had come in. He'd been Allan's co-worker. They hadn't been friends, perhaps not technically rivals. But they were associates, they socialized and inevitably, Chris had met Allan's wife.

And then... He'd seen something in her. Or she'd seen something to him. A like calling to like, reversed poles inevitably attracted to each other, some irresistible chemistry.

The thing was, Eve loved Allan with all her heart, with her entire being, she could never let him go, could never be without him. He was her life.

But there was her flaw, her need, the crack in her he couldn't fill or touch.

But Chris could.

Eve was fulfilled, and Allan, who loved her more than anything, could not find it in him to deny her the fulfillment of a need, the satisfaction of a craving. If he couldn't understand it, he at least recognized it. If he could not meet it, he could help her in other ways.

So the journey had begun. A conversation, and then another conversation. A negotiation. A tentative try. Something very small, very confined. Then something else. Step by step. Eve remained with Allan, their relationship stronger than ever. But Eve also walked another path, descending slowly towards the deepest part of her soul.

Sometimes, to Allan, it seemed that there were two Eve's. The woman he loved, and the thing that Chris owned. Allan maintained his boundaries, he didn't play Chris's game. He had his life with Eve. Eve had another life with Chris.

It's amazing what you could find yourself accepting, if it all happened slowly enough. That, he would tell himself, is what happened to Eve, what Chris had made her into. But it was also their marriage.

&&&

"A gift from Chris?" he repeated.

That was intriguing. Chris was far too selfish for any thoughtfulness. It could only be something evil, some diabolical humiliation Chris had cooked up.

His cock stiffened in his pants. Eve, her hand laying casually in his lap, felt his response. He felt the sharpening of arousal.

"Oh?"

Eve's hand slid around his cock. He was hardening rapidly.

"It's a chastity device?"

"A what?"

"A cock cage," Eve said, "to contain a man's cock and balls, and keep him from getting fully erect, and to make sure that he can't do anything with it. It's a tungsten-steel alloy one, almost impossible to cut, with a lock built in. Very expensive and high end."

Allan's breath caught in his throat.

"Once it's on," she said, "it's on permanently. It can only be taken off with the key."

"Interesting," Allan replied. It was the most neutral thing he could think of.

"He wants me to put it on you," she said. "To make you wear it."

Suddenly, Allan's heart was beating rapidly, his cock was rock hard.

"Does he now?"

"I agreed to it of course," she said. "You know what happens to me when I'm under his control I want to serve him, to please him, I have this craving to do anything he tells me. I promised him that I would do whatever it took to persuade you to be locked up."

Her hand was stroking his cock.

"When I'm with him, he controls me. When he gave me the box and told me what he wanted, all I wanted to do was obey him completely, and put my husband's cock in a cage."

"How about now," Allan breathed, flushing. His arousal was reaching fever pitch.

"I've got better things to do with my husband's cock than lock it up," she teased. "That would be such a sin."

"Still," Eve hesitated. "I can feel a little bit of his influence over me. It's fading though."

"Well," Allan said. Eve's hand was stroking him gently, her warm body, pressing against him. He could feel her breath against his neck as she laid against him and whispered.

On the coffee table, the box radiated malevolent sensuality.

"I hear some men like to caged up," Eve said. "Sometimes for the denial, sometimes for the submission. I hear some women like to cage their men, to show them their place, to take their power."

Allan swallowed. Staring at the box.

"Have you ever thought of it," she teased.

It occurred to Allan that she might not be completely free of Chris's spell, that she was still under his influence, still bent to his will. Was she trying to tempt him, persuade him?

"Not really."

"Not really?" she teased. "So a little? It crossed your mind."

"No," he said.

She pouted. His loving wife or Chris's willing slave, where was the boundary line?

The box sat in front of them on the coffee table, full of mystery. Allan vaguely understood chastity devices, he'd never really seen or handled one. But there'd been remarks, and glimpses in pictures.

And now one was sitting right in front of him like a coiled Cobra, full of danger and menace and excitement.

One specially for him.

Contained and hidden inside that cardboard frame.

Something of gleaming steel, and curves and bands, and a locking mechanism.

He swallowed.

"Shall we take a look?" he said finally, trying to keep his voice normal.

"Sure."

Eve leaned forward to pluck it off the table, and the held it in their lap.

"Have you seen it," Allan asked.

"No," Eve lied. "It was just in the box. But it cost Chris a hell of a lot of money, apparently it's very high end. Top of the line. Nothing but the best," she joked.

"Or he wanted something that was escape proof," Allan said.

Eve frowned slightly. Those were almost Chris's exact words.

Together, they opened the box. The device was covered in plastic sheets, sitting in molds. Piece by piece, they excavated it, pulling each piece of plastic off, examining every piece of metal. The thing was build like a puzzle, of pieces to assemble together.

"Here's a picture of what it looks like, honey," Eve said, holding up a glossy page.

Allan held up different pieces, trying to fit them together, the way they showed on the brochure. It made his heart race with both anticipation and panic.

Eve read from the back. "Lifetime guarantee," she announced. "Well, that's not disturbing. It says here, it's a blend of tungsten-titanium-steel. No wonder it's so expensive. Almost impossible to cut, trying to cut through it would heat the metal enough to burn."

"Yikes," Allan said, holding a series of curving loops on a frame. This, he thought, would be where his cock goes.

"There's a built in locking mechanism to hold it together," she said. "Once locked, it can only be opened with a special key."

She read further.

"Listen to this, each lock is precision engineered. This is made in Switzerland. It can only be opened with the key, and only two keys are made - they guarantee it."

She looked in the box and reached in, lifting a little plastic bag out. She handed it to Allan, who pulled out the keys.

"These right here. These are the only keys in the world for this lock. If they get lost, that's it."

"There's a warning against tampering with the locks. Apparently, if they're tampered with, that's it, they break and its locked forever."

Allan controlled his breathing.

"Pretty scary stuff," he said, putting it down.

Carefully, they replaced the plastic covering on each piece of hinged metal, laid them back in the fitted cardboard in order. Chris sealed the box and put it back on the table, the Cobra coiled back in its basket.

"Well," Allan joked. "I'll say this about Chris, he doesn't skimp."

"No," Eve said. "When Chris wants something, he goes all the way... to the limit... and past."

Allan glanced at her. There was something worshipful in her purr. He knew Chris had taken her all the way to the limit and past again and again. Was she completely back.

Allan tried to laugh.

"I don't think I'll be going in a cage tonight," he said. "I've got somewhere else I want to put my cock."

He kissed her, and she giggled joyfully. The old Eve was back.

"I want you to put it there hard," she said. "As many times as you can."

Laughing, they headed up to the bedroom to make love. But before they did, Eve said one more thing, the old Eve faded for just a second, and whatever Chris was shaping seemed to look out.

"Chris gave me a week to cage you."

&&&

The sex was amazing. Wild, exhausting and uninhibited.

When it was over, she held his cock, and told him the things Chris had done to her, how willingly she'd accepted his domination, how utterly she submitted.

She always told him everything that happened, everything he did to her.

He was hard and fucked her all over again, his mind full of images of Chris using her perfect body.

Afterwards, she cuddled up against him and went to sleep. He spooned her, thinking about Chris, and about the box on the coffee table.

&&&

The next day, the box was still sitting where they'd left it, on the coffee table. He ignored it, except that he couldn't ignore it. He was completely aware of it sitting there, brooding, no matter what he did, no matter what he and Eve said, as they went about their day, Allan was entirely aware of the box, where it was, what was inside it.

Whenever he thought of it, he would start to get hard.

&&&

The next morning when he woke up beside Eve, her body pressing against him, he knew two things. The warmth of her, and the damned box waiting downstairs on the coffee table. The cobra coiled I n its basket.

Neither of them mentioned it, going downstairs and having breakfast together. Eve went off to work.

Allan sat down on the couch, staring at the coffee table.

He stared at it for a long time.

Finally, he hunched forward and opened the lid. Once again, he carefully took each piece out of its molded saddle, carefully pulled the plastic sleeves off and laid each gleaming silver component out on the coffee table side by side, turning each piece over, examining it, weighing them, running his fingers along the polished metal. It was cool to the touch, rigid and unyielding, supervising light weight even when collected together.

It was almost beautiful in a way. Not clunky or heavy, but like a work of art, all gleaming ribs and curves, soft angles. It was graceful, like the bones of a bird. A thing of elegance, made to capture, contain and control.

Allan picked up the piece which was supposed to fit around his cock, like a bird's arching neck. He squeezed it in his hand, it was unyielding. He placed it on the table and put all his weight on it, it didn't bulge a millimeter. Despite the temptation to put it in a vise, or apply a hammer, he didn't dare do anything more, for fear of scuffing its gleaming polish.

When he picked it up, he found it had left a dimple in the coffee table.

He stared at the instructions, and carefully following them, tried to assemble it on the table, fitting the pieces together, until it laid there complete but empty, a gleaming bird skeleton.

Then hastily, he dismantled it, replacing each plastic sleeve, fitting the components back in their molded cradles. He sealed the box, and moved it to exactly where it had been.

The dimple he covered with a coaster.

Allan unzipped his pants and took his cock out, staring at the box. He was already rigid. He masturbated, starring at it, and came violently.

In his mind, he heard Eve's words.

"Chris gave me a week to cage you."

&&&

When he came home from work, Eve was already home. The box was still on the coffee table. As far as he could tell, it had not been moved. The coaster was still there.

They did normal things, had wild sex, went to sleep.

Downstairs, the box waited for him.

&&&

The box remained where it was the next day when he went to work, and when he came home.

But when they went to bed that night, it was in the bedroom, laying on the bedside table.

Eve did not acknowledge it. It was as if it had moved there on its own, closing in on him.

As they took off their clothes, all he could think of was the box and Chris, and Chris touching his wife. They made love, it was wild and passionate. When it was over, she lay panting and sweating against him.

He couldn't help himself.

"You brought it upstairs?" he asked her.

Eve yawned.

"Yeah," she replied. "I couldn't leave it on the coffee table forever. What if one of our friends came by and opened it. What would they say?"

Allan laughed.

"That would be pretty embarrassing."

He let a long pause drag out.

"What's Chris going to do when you tell him you didn't put it on me?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll lie."

"Maybe he'll check? Then you might be in trouble."

She laughed.

"He's not going to grab your junk to see," she told him. "He doesn't have the nerve."

"No," he said. "But he might demand a picture."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Then I'll just say no," she said. "What's he going to do, punish me?"

Waited a few more beats.

"Want to take another look at it?" Allan offered. "I mean since it's here."

"Sure," Eve said. Was that a touch too quick? She reached for it, bringing it onto the bed between their naked bodies. Allan scooched back a little to make room for it. Eve opened it up and with swift sure movements, pulled out each component laying it on the bed. Was she too swift, too sure, had she unpacked and repacked it repeatedly when he wasn't around, familiarizing herself with it.

Allan's cock was filling out, the post coital erection becoming thick and heavy. They both ignored it.

Allan pulled off each plastic sleeve.

"It's something," he said finally. "Shiny."

"We'd better not lose the keys," she cautioned, looking at the instructions.

Allan picked up two of the components, and fit them together. Eve glanced at him. Allan froze.

"It looks like how they go together," he said. He toyed with random pieces, carefully not joining them.

She nodded, turning back to the instructions.

"You know, it's a whole sequence, putting them together. They have to be assembled in just the right order or it doesn't fit at all. And there's a whole process recommended. You should be shaved."

"Shaved?"

"Oh yes," she noted, "and moisturized. And it's recommended that you be tied up, spread eagle, for the fitting. That's what they call it."

"Not me," Allan protested. "The personally."

"Yeah," Eve said. "Sorry. It just says 'subject.'"

She teased him. "Feeling a little insecure?"

"Yes," he said lightly, making a joke of it.

"There's some further instructions on maintenance."

"What?" he asked. "It rusts?"

"Subject maintenance, that's you dummy! So it doesn't chafe, or constrict or injure. Lubrication, or moisturizing. There's a whole section about risks, shrinkage, reduced sperm count."

"Shrinkage!"

"Oh yes," she said. "We'd have to keep putting you in smaller units over time. What a rip, they're just doing it to sell more cages! It's a scheme!"

"Let me see that," Allan said, reaching for the instructions. She held it away from him and he lunged at her. They play wrestled on the bed, the pieces jumping around between them, until he had her on her back pinning her down with his weight on top of her.

"Now let's see," he said, pulling the paper away and examining it. "Liar! There's nothing here about shrinkage!"

Eve giggled.

Her eyes were luminous. She was grinning up at him. His cock was hard between them.

"So," she said grinning, "are you going to put that to use... while you still have it?"

And then the grin turned into something else as he slid all the way up inside her. The sex was passionate and energetic, and the components bounced all over the bed, knocking against them as he thrust into her willing body.

Afterwards, he laid there watching, as she efficiently collected the pieces and put them away in the exact proper order with no hesitation. She didn't bother to put the plastic sleeves back on the components, leaving those scattered on the bed and the floor. Somehow, this seemed significant. Allan watched her, with a tiny flutter in his stomach, but he didn't say anything.

&&&

The next day, she shaved him smooth. They pretended there was nothing to it. He shaved her regularly of course, it was one of his thrills. She had shaved him now and again. This was just one more time. Nothing extraordinary at all.

Neither of them mentioned the box or even looked at it all through. It just sat there.

It sat there, watching them make love as they ignored it.

"Chris gave me a week to cage you."

&&&

They were cuddled up naked on the couch after lovemaking.

"Do you want to put it on me?" he asked out of the blue. It was never far from his thoughts.

Eve looked away from him.

"Chris wants me to," she said quietly. "And I want to do what Chris tells me. I want to obey him. I want whatever he wants. I don't even want to, it's like I need to. It's like a compulsion, a craving. When I'm with him, he controls me totally, I want him to control me, I submit completely."

"It's so satisfying to obey," she sighed. "It's a need inside me, building and building. And when I obey, all the pressure goes away, and I'm fulfilled."

"Is that all the time," Allan asked.

"Yes and no," Eve said. "When I'm with him, I go into it, and I can go so very deep into it. When I'm away from him it's not so bad. It fades. But not completely, it's like there's this tiny urge in the far back of my mind. But I can ignore it."

"I see," Allan said. "But what about you, do you want to cage me?"