Breaking Free Ch 02 1

A frustrated groan escaped my lips as Anna lifted off of me at the last second. Just before my orgasm peaked. It left me desperately dangling, my hips lifting a fraction to attempt brushing against her retreating flesh with my cockhead. To no avail. My torment was her satisfaction, her cruel, abusive, manipulative satisfaction. She gloated as she lifted away from the bed, a haughty giggle chuckling from her soft pink lips.

Lips that I had once kissed with full love and adoration for the one who possessed them. Lips that I had promised to love and cherish, to have and to hold until death do us part. Now I longed to be parted from her dead heart.

I gave the lightest of tugs against my bonds, a showcase more than anything that I was still attempting to fight. She rolled her eyes. Dark blue gemstones that several months ago I would have done anything for. Now I would do anything to get them out of my sight. She planted herself on the bed next to me, her delicate hands gently toying with my cock. Brushing lightly up and down my length, causing me to shudder and pant as I longed to push myself over that peak. To finally have that release my body craved.

Anna wrapped her fingers around me, tugged me faster, edging me once more as my cock grew redder, pre-cum dripping from my tip as my hips attempted to thrust upwards into the friction. That earned me a firm slap on the balls, which felt like someone was trying to pull them out of my body.

Then for a third time that night, she lifted off just before a came. I choked back a curse, knowing what would happen if she heard it. She grinned like a fox, studying her blood-red nails she had gotten done two days ago as I writhed and came back down from the edge.

She sighed heavily, leaving back to smooth her hand over her body. Admittedly, I still found her body attractive. Who wouldn't? Slim waist with a pert ass, although her breasts could be a tad bit larger if I was being honest. What guy didn't want large breasts on their partner? Then again, she wasn't really his partner anymore. She was now the enemy, his jailor. Little did she know, tonight would be her last night with that title.

I grunted, looking her up and down as she slid her fingers between her thighs, her womanhood glistening with arousal and my saliva from when she had ridden my face. She rubbed herself in slow circles, overplaying her pleasure on her face just to tease me all the more. I bit my lip; the pain helping me concentrate and control my emotions even as my body was desperate and fuzzy, attempting to achieve an orgasm that I knew most likely I wouldn't get or would be ruined.

She stroked me again, slowly, painstakingly slow. I tried to control my breathing, still, my hips, lowered my hopes because I knew it wasn't happening, yet my body still hoped. She played with her clit faster, masturbating us together, her voice going higher and higher until she gave a loud whimper, her body trembling as her land lifted off of my cock, leaving me wholly unsatisfied. As usual.

You're probably wondering why I'm here? How did it get to this point? Why would a powerful 6" 2, 175lb man who makes 6 figures allow this to continue? Make no mistake, most men in my position would have done the sensible thing. Cut off the cage with the nearest tool and left the house, sending divorce papers through the mail. Any man with a brainstem would have done that. The thought crossed my mind the first night it happened. But, here's the thing, I've always been a long odds man.

See, I couldn't just let this bitch off free. If I would have done the simple thing, you know what my dear sweet Anna would do? She'd just demand half my income for the rest of my life and trap some other poor sap who's fucked up enough to let someone lock up his genitals and abuse him for it. Anna wouldn't learn her lesson. She wouldn't get taken down to the dirt like I want her to be.

So I've been putting up with it, biding my time, waiting for when I can hit her once, and she'll never get up again. I'm not murdering her if that's what you think. No, too messy. Cops always know it's the spouse. I've got better plans in mind.

Her sighs of completion and the sadistic grin on her face told me she was about to leave the bed. I knew what that meant, ice meets throbbing erection, in several minutes ice overcomes erection and I go back into the cage, soft unsatisfied, restrained. She sauntered her pert naked ass away, (I bit back the urge to tell her she had acne on her ass just to have one small sliver of payback, but I was so close... in more ways than one so I swallowed the comment.)

She came back holding a bowl of ice water, a towel, and the dreaded cage. I cringed internally.

"May I speak, Mistress?" I asked, being cordial just as she believed she had taught me.

"I'm in a good mood, so yes," she replied, kneeling on the bed. A knowing look glowed in her eyes.

"I thought tonight would be my release night? Did I do something wrong, Mistress?" I asked. She pursed her lips before breaking out in a smile. Without batting an eye, she nodded.

"Oh no, you did everything correct, did all the cleaning and yardwork, earned enough money to buy me a fun girls' night out... you were a splendid boy for Mistress...," she explained before breaking off into an exasperated sigh.

"I decided since I'm the one with the upper hand... I'll just do what I want instead. " She mocked with yet another grin. Remember what I said? Cold. Dead. Heart.

Immediately she ran the ice up and down my shaft, the sudden cold hitting me in the guts as I shuddered beneath her touch. For several minutes, she kept at it, until my manhood had shrunk down to its resting state. First came the ring around my balls, followed by a wired cage that imprisoned my cock for the majority of the time. (At least as far as she knew) Then came the little padlock with the tiny silver key and with a snip I was locked up again and her (believed) mercy.

"All locked up and denied, just as you should be. I bet you're regretting doing that bet six months ago? I'm so happy you did. You've awakened a whole unknown part of me! Perhaps I could be a professional at this?" she commented, getting up from the bed and stretching. She deposited the key onto the silver chain around her neck before picking up her nearby robe and wrapped it around herself.

I glanced her up and down. Still obviously shackled by my ankles and wrists, I moved one of my arms to gently remind her.

"Nah, you can lie like that for a few hours. I want to catch up on my show... maybe text one of my bulls to come over this weekend? So much to do now that I've got a cucked husband like you," she teased, as a grown-ass 32-year-old woman pranced about the bedroom, gathering her phone off the charger.

I sighed heavily. She assumed I did it out of frustration. In part that was true, but to me it was also relief... because our living room was at the other end of the house and she listened to show's LOUD, giving me time to enact my plan.

"Love you darlin'," she sang out in her syrupy southern drawl for a second before she switched her accent back to her trained one. She then shut the door, leaving me laying there naked, caged, and strapped to their bed. But not for long. I waited until I heard the TV switch on, the Netflix sound echoing through the house as I let out a long sigh.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed one of my writing bindings. With slow eased pressure, I pulled against it. Little did Anna know, but this week when I was 'vacuuming' in the bedroom while she was out on the sofa binge-watching. I had brought with me a small kitchen knife. Using it to hack at the leather cuffs that attached to the corner post of the bed.

I didn't cut all the way through, wanting to make it look still functioning. She never really paid attention to them. They always stayed attached to the bed. The chains and whatnot just tucked beneath when not in use. All four were weakened, but still strong enough to give appearances when she tugged on one half-heartedly. The first one gave away after about thirty seconds of constant pressure against the weakened leather.

Once my first arm was free, the other bonds were easily unlatched from me. I gently eased myself from the bed. My body was sore from the ordeal it had just gone through, but now was not the time for weakness. Calmly, I went to the bathroom and grabbed the lube sitting on the counter. With practised ease, I slicked up my balls and the area around the metal ring. Getting as much through the bars of the cage before I slowly slid the first of my balls through the ring. I will not lie, this part hurts a bit, but just power through it and it you'll be out in no time. Your balls hold the whole cage on, slip them out? The cage comes free.

Now, if I had a piercing like a Prince Albert or something like that, that locked a sound in. It would be a lot more difficult. But it can still be done. In that approach, I would just go for the lock. They're tiny. A quick five minutes into anyone's toolbox would produce an assortment of tools to take it off. Once the locks off, it gives you access to your piercing, take off the ball of the piercing and remove the piercing, freeing you from the sound. Luckily, I didn't have to deal with a sound or a Prince Albert. Instead, I shucked the cage off of me, toyed with the thought of finishing myself before I shrugged it off. Operation escape the Bitch first.

I dressed, keeping an ear out for Anna's footsteps in case she came back. I then packed a suitcase with all the items I knew I needed: birth certificate, social security card, marriage license, passport. I grabbed my great-grandfather's watch, along with a few other important mementos. When I leave this house, I never want to come back, so I made dead sure I had everything.

Once my bag was packed, I grabbed my secondary phone from on top of the armoire in the corner. Anna was too short to see up there and notice the extra phone charger plugged in. The phone was always on silent, and I only used sparingly to keep in touch with a few of my friends. I explained most everything with them and all of them helped assist me. Sending messages to my 'real' phone of how I was a jerk for blowing them off all the time. That I was pussy-whipped, playing into Anna's game. Letting her think she had all the cards.

In reality, they had helped me set up secondary bank accounts, get in touch with a divorce lawyer. Order items I needed from amazon with my college email and sent it to their houses. This phone was integral to my plans.

I grabbed it and the charger before shooting a text to my friend Bill, who I was going to crash with.

'Freedom Night, if I don't text you within 30min, GET. HERE. NOW.'

'I got you, brother' was all Bill sent back.

I nodded to myself. I took a deep breath as I slung my bag over my shoulder. The last thing I grabbed was a large orange document folder that I had hidden expertly in a hidden 'gun drawer' in the dresser. Only in America would there be furniture catered to hiding guns in everyday furniture. Hey, the fucker was on sale and I had a thing for dark walnut wood.

Before I opened the door, I readied up a text message on my phone, attaching various videos to the message. This was all I had, and I knew it would be the blow to topple her.

Before I walked out, I straightened my shoulders and collected myself. I didn't tip-toe or try to mask my presence. I wanted her to know I was coming.

She met me in the kitchen. Anna was more surprised than anything at first. She looked me up and down. Noticing my bag, my clothes... well, everything. It was almost therapeutic to see her so put off.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She finally asked, her voice going shrill as she stepped closer. I motioned to my bag.

"Leaving you, what does it look like?" I questioned, motioning towards the front door. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"You think you can do that? I own you, you're my slave, my cucky," she teased with a glint in her eyes.

"Not anymore, but don't worry, I left the cage in the bathroom," I replied with a wink. She blinked at me once. Fury wrapping it's way over her face. Fuck, she was ugly when mad.

"You are going to go back to the bedroom and put it back on! I can't fuckin' believe this. Oh, I'm havin' Mistress Zoe over an' she gunna have a field day with you! Ha, she be happier den pigs eatin' slop!" Anna snapped at him, eyes glowing with rage. I held my ground and waited for her tirade to be over.

Misstress Zoe was the Dom at the local sex shop. She was the one who met them their first day trying to 'spice' up their bedroom life six months ago. Zoe pulled Anna aside, convinced her to try out Chastity and M/s. Then when he objected, she challenged him to try it. He being the stubborn one, of course, accepted it.

What followed was a rabbit hole of cheating, abuse, cuckholdery with a bit of femdom mixed in. Anna went rabid at the mouth with power, and Zoe was there whispering into her ear. There were so many times I couldn't fucking stand it. Wanted to just borrow Bill's shotgun and blast both their heads off. But no matter how angry, how upset. I had to remain calm, keep myself collected. I would be better than them. I would outplay them. In the end he would be on top, and that fact would crush both of their fragile glass castles.

"I'm not doing it anymore Anna, you and Zoe, and I mean this in the nicest way possible... the two of you can go fuck yourselves," I shot back, taking a single step forward.

"You can't talk to me like that! I'll call the cops! Tell them you hit me, raped me! Then where will you be!?" she shouted, putting herself in my way. I wouldn't dare lay a finger on her, it would just add kindling to the fire and leave evidence. It was time to pull out the trump card.

I pulled out his phone and loaded up one video. The one of her being fucked by a random dude she brought home from the bar. A large, dark-skinned man who looked all too happy to have my petite wife wrapped around his cock.

She froze, her eyes confused as to how he had a video of her transgression. He pulled up another. This time with some biker dude she met at a different bar. She was on her knees in the bedroom as he jerked himself all over her breasts. Anna in the video moaned and shouted.

'I love the feel of another man's cum on my skin!' as she immediately began sucking the man back to hardness. The biker groaning before he switched to a video of her being fucked by Mistress Zoe, Zoe was forty, no husband (gee wonder why) and honestly, once she took off her black leather corset she wasn't the hottest to look at.

Her skin sagged on her belly, and she looked rather bony in her arms. But she had a good-looking face when plastered with make-up. Zoe was using a black strap-on on Anna and his wife was taking great pleasure in claiming how much a woman's dick could feel better than her husbands.

I stopped the video before staring her down.

"I have every one of them, recorded and saved in a cloud hooked to an email you don't even know about. My friends have copies, and so does my lawyer." I stated with a finality. Oh, the look in her eyes. What was this? Consequences for her actions? Poor spoiled Anna, she didn't even know the half of it yet.

"I have all these videos loaded and ready to send to your father. I wonder what Father Danial Calloway would say about his 'properly raised' daughter committing adultery and homosexual acts?" I questioned with a knowing grin. Mistress Anna took a step back trembling and speechless, poor gal. Too bad I no longer had pity for her.

"Wonder what that would mean for your portion of the trust fund if this got out? All that money sitting there growing interest, waiting for the day your Papa dies. " I added, she went pale. She shook her head, for the first time pleading in her eyes.

"I have papers with me, sign them, and I'll walk away, you can have the house, you can have your daddy's money, but you don't get a scrap from me and these videos will never come out... try an' cross me, counter sue me? They get released, all over the place, online, everywhere, your fucking abusive, cheating-ass face for the entire world to see," I growled. My anger was boiling in his veins. A part of him wished she would say no. So that he could hit send.

"You promise?" she tentatively asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, unlike you, I keep my promises. " I leveled back. She audible swallowed. I was sure there was a lot more fight in her. But I knew her family...well, her family's money was most important to her, as well as her image.

In any other scenario, with another man who was too weak to stand up for himself, he was sure they would cave, submit to the life their 'Mistress' gave them, and take it all. Not me, I wasn't weak, my mamma didn't raise no sissy.

"All right, I'll sign, just... don't send those to daddy... please," she added softly. Her hands trembling as she reached for a pen on the counter. I slapped the files down.

"There are tabs pointing where you need to sign. If you miss something, my lawyer will be in contact with you," I described, standing a foot or so back from her. I didn't want to risk her trying to reach for his phone.

"Why are you doing this, Nate?" She asked half-way through the signing.

"Do I really need to say? Anna, you destroyed this marriage. You're a fucking cold, heartless bitch and I hope you and Zoe and all the other women like you rot in the lowest bowels of hell there is. You can't fucking turn someone into your sex slave and imagine them to want to love you and respect you? Anna you broke my trust and my heart." I explained, how was it really so hard to see?

"I hope it was worth it, hope you enjoyed you fucked up sex lifestyle, hope in twenty years when you wrinkle and sag you'll still find random assholes on the street to fuck you" I added with a shake of his head. At the end of the day that's what she chose, random flings to get under his skin, to show off how attractive she was and how she could do whatever she wanted with no regard to him.

"I thought you wanted--" she began, but that's when I snapped.

"Who fucking wants their wife to lock them up and fuck other dudes? Who fucking wants to be berated and forced to shit they don't want to do for a cunt that doesn't give them the time of day! You're not 'loving' or 'caring' for my needs. You're a narcissistic bitch with a superiority complex, you and Zoe both!" I caught myself, reigning my anger back as I tugged the finished divorce papers away from Anna.

"This divorce here has given me more pleasure than all the regrettably years of our marriage," I added, folding the documents back into the folder. Anna stared at me silently. I wished she would yell back, wish she would do something so that I could fully list all the ways I hated her guts. God, I'll need therapy after this.

I went past her. She walked after me slowly as I wandered to the door, shoved on my boots, then turned back to her. The last part of my plan before I was free.

"You know, I see your point, Anna... It is fun having the upper hand," I smirked as I brought up his phone to look at the time.

"I can change the rules whenever I want and you can't do shit, can you?" I added swiping left to bring up the screen with the text message and hitting send. The evidence all sending to her father dear along with the message that I'd happily destroy everything of his wayward daughter's transgressions... for her stake of the trust fund. Then I attached my lawyer's info along with the message of being in touch soon.

"What! Nate you promised!" She screeched, launching for the phone in my hand. I swung it above his head. She slapped him a few times. Anger and tears in her eyes before the house phone rang.

"Huh, wonder who that is?" I asked out loud as Anna, my soon to be ex-wife slumped to the floor. I walked out of the house, bathed in confidence. Not really worried too much. I had been wanting to move, anyway.