Fever Dreams 1

It's Saturday, and we're tooling around, heading back from brunch at Mike's Place. Katie has her feet up on the front dash, her lovely calves tempting me, just at the edge of my sight line as I drive. I glance right and see she's let her skirt ride up a good bit too. Just barely below the panty line. It's her personal siren call. She's pretty much mocking me.

And damn, the way she keeps swinging her feet to that Taylor track. Her toes all pink-polished. Her skin so soft and sweet. Her anklet dangling.

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in

Your wildest dreams

She's delightful. And once again, I feel myself swelling in my cage. Or rather, trying to swell. In

her

cage. After all, she holds both the keys. But of course, that's the whole point. She knows exactly what's she's doing.

At Park Street, I stop to let a young mom cross with her toddler. She's busty and blonde, but I don't really notice her until her boy drops his Tigger, as they hustle past our car, and the mom spins back to retrieve it.

And suddenly, there it is. The young mom bends low, with her tight, ripped jean shorts all flexed, sweetly framed in the windshield. A perfect peach.

Katie glances over at me and smirks. And in one smooth motion, her legs are down and she's leaning into me, finger nails grazing my neck, whispering in my ear.

"Oh my," she murmurs, "isn't

that

a sight. I bet you she's got herself a

real

man, who takes that ass any time he wants."

Then she's all girly and giggly, "not like

some

guys we know, who can go

weeks

without any action, huh babe?"

Against my will, I find myself whimpering. I close my eyes for an instant, trying to steady myself.

But Katie's having none of that. She's snaking her right hand up my bare leg and giving my nuts a firm squeeze through my gym shorts. I all-out groan. She laughs. And she wins again.

And then the mom is gone, and I'm taking a left on Jefferson, and Katie's legs are back up on the dash, her feet back doing their hypnotic thing. Leaving me throbbing.

This is how the day goes.

----------

Like earlier, at Mike's, we've just been served our plates. We're sharing stories from our work weeks. It's a light moment. We're catching up, taking turns- there's plenty of laughing.

Then I'm telling her about this embarrassing gaffe that Tony made at the weekly unit meeting- the one I just started running. Stupid Tony- got all nervous and said "titties" instead of "cities." The whole conference room was snickering. I had to scramble to save face for him. And to keep from laughing myself. Funny story.

But Katie isn't looking at me. Her brow is furrowed, all focused on precisely filling her waffle squares with syrup. When she's satisfied, she stuffs a drippy wedge into her mouth, chews, and smiles.

A strand of syrup spills out the side of her mouth, dribbling down toward her chin. Before I can alert her, she locks me in a cool stare, and jerks her hand up, signaling "wait."

She lets the moment linger, as she swallows. And then her tongue pops out, ever so slowly edging its way down and all the way across her lower lip, savoring the sticky sweetness. Eyes still locked on mine the whole voyage.

Then she licks back across her teeth line, all feline and Cheshire, before her tongue disappears into her grin.

"Poor Tony," she says "always getting so flustered."

But somehow she doesn't sound so sympathetic.

Then she reaches into her blouse and casually pulls out her chain, letting my keys hang out in front, for all to see. They're silver and have heart-shaped heads. But what makes me shutter is the pendant hanging between them. The new gold one I just gave her at her birthday. The one of a rooster in a birdcage. Damn, what was I thinking?

She grins and says, "Actually, I bet Tony was really cute. I think guys are adorable when they get all flustered." She giggles and flicks the chain with her forefinger. "It's one of my favorite things."

I feel my cheeks redden, as she takes another bite, all casual. My eyes have gone wide, and my breathing's gone shallow. And my mouth, it's firmly shut.

I'm just nodding slowly. Bobbleheaded.

----------

At home, I'm halfway done cutting the back lawn, when Katie waves me in, giving me a come hither sign through the big kitchen window.

I turn off the mower, wipe my brow, and shuffle in, finding her standing by the long counter. She's changed into a loose pink scoop neck, with the V of her pert cleavage all on display. As are the heart-shaped tops of my keys. Glancing down, I see she's wearing gloriously form-fitting black high rise shorts. Oh, dear god. My mouth starts watering, and I freeze in place, transfixed by the vision of her.

Then she sees me standing slack-jawed, and giggles at my predicament. She leans low toward the counter, jutting out her perfect ass in the process. I gulp as she's gives her backside one slow enticing circular sway. I'm being summoned for duty.

I scurry over to stand behind her. She's perusing today's list, which I see is extensive. It fills a full page. And damn, she's sucking on a pen as she does so, nodding little "uh huhs" of satisfaction with her plan. She looks up and smiles, handing me the sheet of paper.

"Here you go, babe. Take a good look now. You've got a busy afternoon."

Sliding her hand around my waist, she sidles in next to me. She must have just washed up, and she smells heavenly, all floral and sweet. And I can feel her breast pressing softly on my side, as she watches me scan her honey-do.

A lot of it is the usual fare: finish in the yard, scrub down the bathrooms, vacuum the stairs and the living room, do the laundry, and of course, handwash her panties.

Then there's some specifics for tonight: make a green salad, air fry some potatoes, have the grill ready to go, and cue up on Amazon that old noir we were discussing. And just in case, have the massage oils on hand too.

At the bottom of page, there's one more item. It's more narrative than list, and it's underlined, with a big heart next to it in the margin: once I come in from mowing, she instructs me to be naked the rest of the afternoon. And I am to send her selfies exactly on the half hour.

Every

half hour.

And then she stipulates: '

make sure you cup your balls up, with an open palm. I want to be able to clearly see them, and the cage too

.'

She watches my sharp breath as I read this, and she chuckles. Then she snakes from under my arm, and slips right in front me, facing forward. Reaching back, she pulls my arms around her into a hug, molding them onto her breasts. Then she presses her ass back into my cage, wiggling slowly back and forth, until I'm fully swollen into my confines, the cage thrusting out absurdly into her crease.

Looking over her shoulder, she flips her hair out of her sneering eyes, "So, are my instructions clear, babe?"

I'm breathing all raggedy from her teasing. Totally desperate and raring to go. My entire being is focused on her insatiable body, the soft swell of her breasts, the slow rhythm of her ass. What I want is to grab her in my arms and toss her onto our bed. To fuck her senseless.

But instead, I lean forward, brush aside her hair, and kiss her tenderly, on the back of her neck. Several soft kisses, just the way she likes. Just the way she's taught me.

And I nod. "Yes, Katie. All clear."

She purrs at my kisses, "Mmmm, that's nice, babe. Good."

Then suddenly she's extracted herself, and is walking away, leaving me stunned and flustered. She grabs her purse, and sways those delicious black shorts to the front door. She swings it open and then pivots back toward me, letting her arms land akimbo on her hips. Her tone is instructive, with a good dose of bratty entitlement.

"I'm off to meet Cheryl at the spa. We're getting manipedis together, and we might go for coffee too. I can't wait to catch up with her. There's so much to tell her!

"Make sure you shower. You're kinda rank right now. Use your cologne." She laughs, "No lady wants a sweaty masseuse.

"And I'll stop at Luigi's for the steaks on my way home. He always gives me a special deal, you know. I just can't imagine why."

Then she leans forward and points, as if she's looking into a display case. The pose provides a generous glimpse of tit. "Luigi dear, I'll have two of your

biggest

T-bones please." She giggles and winks at me. Then she turns back to the open door.

"Ok, babe. That's it, I'm off. You have your list. Make me proud."

She starts out the door, but then stops short once more, and over her shoulder adds, "Oh and babe, one other thing- do make sure your selfies include your

face

too. And give me a

nice

big smile. I want Cheryl to see just how much fun you're having."

Then she's gone. And I'm standing there battling the blood that's torrenting toward my groin. I'm frustrated and aching, my mind all tangled up by her sweet tease and humiliation. No doubt there's even worse to come. No one, ever, has dared to treat me this way. And I'm powerless to stop her.

My god, I'm a lucky guy.

----------

It's evening now, and we're cuddling on the living room couch. The movie's over and there's a heavy scent of lavender oil in the air. Katie's lying on top of me, wearing just panties and a bra, having stripped down during the movie-long massage. I'm naked, as I've been all evening, other than my cage of course.

She's breathing gently, dozing, her head resting on my chest. Our legs are entwined. It's a long, quiet moment.

I'm staring across the room at nothing in particular, working through some of the plot twists from the movie, but they don't all add up. Totally unclear who murdered the chauffeur...

Suddenly, she's tracing her forefinger up my torso- her nails all freshly sharpened this afternoon. It's a lazy zigzag, but it's piercing, and I startle. My breath quickens, and on cue, the battle starts back up in my cage.

She reaches my left nipple and starts toying with it. First sleepy circles. Then a flick or two. Then a pinch. Then a solid squeeze. It slowly engorges in her fingers- the way my cock can't. And now that she's got more to grasp, she starts twisting with some vigor. I let out an extended groan, throwing my head back in delicious agony. Her knee worms its way into my crotch, giving a solid thrust. And I cry out in frustration.

"Oh god, Katie,

please

!"

She snickers, leans up over me, and drives her knee in again, inching me back. She's got me wedged into the couch corner now, submitted beneath her. She looks down at me with a possessive beam.

"That's right baby," she purrs, "you better beg. Because you're

all

mine to use as I like."

Then she slides herself up my torso, so one knee lands on my shoulder, weighing me down. One hand braces herself on the wall, while the other bunches her panties and slides them around her ass and halfway down her legs, in one startlingly efficient motion. With a flutter of kicks, they complete their journey, and the bra goes flying too.

She laughs triumphantly, slithers her thighs up around my ears, and lands her bare pussy firmly on my face. She does a quick wiggle and angles herself, lining up her clit to vertically strafe my nose.

Her legs squeeze in around me. And then she's grinding.

But she goes slowly. Oh so slowly. It's her pace. Her rhythm. Up and down, and all over my face. I can hear her soft heaving breaths, matching every cycle.

And she's dampening now, and begins to smear me with her essence as she cycles smoothly up again. And around again. And again. And again.

I'm trapped beneath her and it's a struggle to get a full breath. But it's intoxicating. I can't ever get enough of her taste. Damn if I don't try though- my eager tongue lapping and licking and sucking with all I got.

Then her pace quickens. Her juices are releasing- coating me, marking me. She gets forceful- mashing at the bridge of my nose. It's too hard to keep up with her and I surrender, yielding my face for her use.

Soon she goes up another octave. Pushing her pace. Grabbing my hair. Circling my face.

My cheeks are sopping now. My head's jammed into the couch cushions. My nose feels battered out of joint. But I'm committed, along for the ride, hanging on for dear life...

as she zeros in,

going round and round

and round,

and round,

and...

"Oohhhhhh,

Oohhhhhhhhhh!

Yes, yes, yeeesss,

Yeahaassssss,

oh, oh, oh, oh, ooooooooh,

YEEEEEESSSSSS!!!!"

She wails like a jungle cat, clenching me between her thighs, and howling her out ecstasy.

I'm flooded by her wet heat. My head still wedged in the couch. My dick still throbbing pitifully. But her pleasure washes over me. And it courses through me too. All so delicious.

It's all that matters.

She collapses on me, panting. Her pussy slides off my face, and she hugs my head up to her chest, her lips resting on top, exhaling hot and sweetly down my neck.

For a moment, we're both immobilized in this embrace. Hormones flooding. Out of breath. A consummate cresting.

Then she staggers to her feet and pads wordlessly into the kitchen.

She returns quickly, with a couple of water bottles. Dropping one for me, she plops down next to me. Then she gulps hers down, pushing the empty on the end table, and purrs.

"That was fuckin' wonderful, babe. I feel so good right now. Fantastic. Just....

perfect

."

She leans toward me and we share a long, lazy, tongue-filled kiss. Then she smiles, quickly strokes my face with the back of her hand, and grabs her phone off the end table. She reclines and starts scrolling.

I take the moment to extract myself from the couch, first lifting up to something like sitting, then managing to stand. I drink some water, and try to stretch the stiffness out of my limbs. Walking over to the back window, I admire the clear, starry night.

I stand there a moment, and find myself fiddling with the cage, trying to reposition things, maybe relieve some of the pressure. Part of me feels peaceful, and satisfied, happy to have pleased her. But my cock is still pulsing like a bass drum down there, and I'd give anything to cum right now. Anything, that is, but stopping this chastity play with Katie.

I'm just a bit calmer when I return to the living room. But damn if she isn't sprawled there on the couch, her limbs all splayed, leaving her sated pussy on heavenly display, as she taps at her phone.

There's no clear spot for me to sit, but I yearn to be close to her. So I drop down on the rug, leaning on the end of the couch, just by her feet.

And even post-orgasm, she's relentless. She can't resist the opportunity. With a devilish smile, she slides out her foot, the one with anklet of course, hanging it in front of my mouth.

"Give it a kiss, babe."

And I do. I hold up her foot and line the arch with gentle kisses. It's all riling me right back up, but I can't stop myself. I can't help but crawl right back into her web.

She laughs and then playfully slaps my face with her foot. Then she offers it again, hanging it in mid-air before me.

"Now suck my toes."

And I do that too. With growing passion. First gently attending to each digit. Then, she pushes the full set in, and I inhale them like a creamsicle.

She's pressing so many buttons at once. She knows me so well, arouses me so confidently. I'll do whatever she says. And I know she knows it.

And just like that, my cage is painfully distending again.

For a minute or so, she coos with pleasure at my worship. Then she nudges me away, and points her toes straight down, all ballerina-like, gesturing me to go yet lower.

"Down, baby. Lie flat on the rug."

I comply, and lay myself all the way down, face up. The smiles and rests both of her feet quietly on my face for the next few minutes. It's a victory pose. Complete conquest. Not that I'm fighting though. I've long surrendered.

Soon I'm drifting, falling into a fog, exhausted, awash in desire. I've no sense of time left. I'm just floating in the sweet and sour aroma of her feet, and in her manifest dominance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her lazily stroking her breasts, a slow meditative figure eight.

Her voice is a bit sleepy, but has a haughty tone too, like she's totally sure of who she is and what she's saying. "You know, babe, I always knew that sex was powerful. I just never knew how much. Wasn't it Oscar Wilde who said it? How everything's about sex, but sex is about power? That used to sound kinda creepy to me. But I get it now. Totally.

"I mean," she chuckles, "I've

always

known how to tease! That comes with the territory. But I've learned so much more since we started locking you up- what was it- 9, 10 months ago? Now I understand

my

power, and I got you towing the line.

My

line.

"And the funny part is you

asked

for this! I'd never heard of chastity play before. I mean, not besides Rapunzel belts, or whatever.

"Just remember- you brought this out in me. You released the kraken. The predator. And I don't think there's any going back. It's all just too good! Besides, I can tell- you love it too. Don't cha babe?"

She shifts one foot to my imprisoned cock and toys with it cruelly. Prodding it, smooshing my balls, aimlessly pushing the cage around. And drawing from me a low, resigned moan.

Lackadaisically, her torture continues, as she picks her phone back up, and starts scrolling through my selfies from this afternoon. Her smirks yield to giggles, and she offers a running commentary.

"...oh babe, your balls look so swollen in this one...

"...and here you are while you're washing my pretty panties. I bet you gave them a good sniff before you cleaned them, you perv...

"...oh my god, Cheryl

loved

this one- look at those pathetic puppy dog eyes! We were laughing so hard, everyone was staring at us in Starbucks."

Below her, I'm listening, pulsing with desire. Her words sting. But more so, they stroke my lust. Just like she's stroking me with her feet. Taunting me, suggesting, but never fully delivering. And I'm enthralled. Afire. Locked in her wildest fever dream.