Hannah Forever Single Ch 09

Hannah Forever Single -- Chapter 09

I got up from my desk after a long day of work. I felt the weight of the cock cage tug at my cock and balls. It surprised me how quickly I got used to wearing my cage. It became like a second skin for me. But in those moments of awareness, I thought of Hannah on her knees attaching it to me, wearing her transparent red body suit. I pictured her lips as she gave me one last orgasm before sealing me inside.

The device looked like steel skin -- armor plating, in a way. It was high end, designed for long-term wear, and custom fitted. There was a ring around my balls, a sheath for my shaft, and a cap over the tip with ports for my routine functions and cleaning. Rather than locks, it had a special tool to tighten the screws. (I know.) It was unyielding and beautiful, like my Hannah.

This was part of her next experiment in our relationship. I think I can use that word now. While Hannah joked she was forever single, we both had shared how much we cared for each other, even loved each other. We moved into this house where we lived and worked. I had my security consultancy, and she had her online fan account where she entertained customers. We were partners in business and in life without the ring to bind us -- well, not one on my finger.

Thinking back to that first moment when we met in the bar and bonded over our similar tattoos. Both of us declared we were independent of romantic entanglements, yet here we were close to a year later committed to each other, though we were not technically exclusive.

Not that I dated anyone else. I had no interest in anyone but her. Hannah had been dating lately, but as part of our mutual fantasy. I was her submissive toy with a kink for creampies. She shared the kink of owning a man's orgasm and having him service her well-fucked pussy. Up to now, we were content with me providing the fucking, but we also knew that part of the kink was desire for the outsider.

The adventure we were on included sharing our past sexual experiences. Through these stories, Hannah and I worked out what was a true desire and what was dysfunctional. My first marriage ended painfully for me. I became my wife's cuckold. She and my former best friend began an affair that led her to eventually invite him to live with us permanently.

My sexual experiences with them were both intense and emotionally painful. With Hannah's help, I've been able to sort out what was a primal need for me and what was simply the bargain I made with my ex to get the type of humiliation I craved.

With Hannah, I always felt safe. It wasn't sex twenty-four, seven. We carefully worked out consent and boundaries. We talked through it a lot in the days between play sessions. She could tease and humiliate me in a way that fed my kink, but she would also reassure me that the things she said and did were part of the play and not her deep feelings. That's part of what made the cage so perfect. It was binding, but it was also protective and beautiful. I didn't feel vulnerable. I felt the comfort of control and the peace of giving all my sexual agency to the person I trusted most in the world.

And it is that earned trust that allowed me to face this final fear -- that Hannah might find another to replace me. She was going out on dates more seriously now that she had locked me up. She was searching for the right person who could play with us in a safe way. She didn't want someone who would threaten our relationship but a third who could extend it. Plus, she enjoyed sex and our kinks weren't the kind to just fade into the background. In a way, the deep pain that forged those neural pathways also made it nearly impossible to escape them as a path to pleasure. But I noticed over time, and with Hannah's support, some of those acts became less charged for me. And for every loss of one, we gained others that brought more joy and intimacy.

I went into the kitchen to prepare dinner for Hannah and me but I found her there already.

Hannah said, "I got done early, so I figured I'd give you a night off cooking."

She might have other things in mind, I hoped. She wore a lingerie set that mainly comprised bands of material. It was jet black and traced every curve of her hip, rear, and thighs. A small silver ring held each strap at critical points.. When she turned, I saw two rings outlined her exposed nipples, which were erect. Another set of interlaced rings formed a triangle around a small patch of cloth over her pussy. I saw her light brown hint of pubic hair beneath. My mouth watered at the sight.

Hannah smiled knowingly as she saw me take her in. She touched her hair, a short pixie cut, and her light brown eyes locked with mine. "Is my pet feeling the walls close in?"

"Yes, Hannah," I said. My cock was filling the small space of the cage. I felt the now familiar ache of confinement and arousal.

"Show me." She turned back to her cooking.

I took off my clothes and waited.

After a minute, she looked back. "Tsk. Poor thing is bursting at the seams."

The flesh of my penis was bulging through the ports in the cap and sheath.

She stepped over to me and softly ran her fingers over the exposed flesh.

"Is it weird that I find this beautiful somehow?"

I shook my head. The touch of her fingertips was like an electric current through my cock.

She shook her head and turned away. She said, "I have to say, sometimes I have to stop myself from releasing you and fucking you senseless."

I gulped.

"But that would spoil the experiment, wouldn't it?"

"It's not like we're going to publish the results," I said.

She laughed. "Who says?"

I shivered. Just the thought of exposure was enough to shut down my executive functions. Being on display like this, helpless and vulnerable, was part of my need. I knew she was teasing for that effect, but a part of me wanted to expose all this for everyone, to have every eye that looked at me know how I humiliated myself.

We ate dinner and although I was used to her being in various costumes and lingerie from her cam work, I still found it difficult to focus. That I was also nude except for my cage kept me on edge.

"No good?" she said, pointing her fork at my plate.

"Distracted," I said.

She laughed. "Stand up."

I followed her instructions.

"I enjoy looking at it," she said. "How do you feel in it?"

"Strangely proud?" I said. "It's like... I don't know. A symbol for me."

"I know what you mean. It makes me want to take you out and show you off in it."

"I..."

"Don't worry," she said. "I wouldn't do anything to get you arrested."

I laughed.

"Sit. Finish." She said.

I got through dinner conscious of my ache, symbolic of my need for Hannah. As I cleaned up, Hannah watched me from her chair and enjoyed a glass of wine.

"Maybe I'll show you off to Kelly," she said. "I feel like I can't keep this to myself."

I nodded nervously. Kelly was Hannah's best friend and sometime lover. I had eaten her out for Hannah on one occasion. Kelly was a sandy blond who clearly still loved Hannah, but also didn't try to pin her down.

"As you wish," I said.

"Of course," Hannah said with a laugh.

She took me to her bedroom and had me lie on her bed.

"Tonight," she said. "I want to hear the rest of your story. I think we need to put it to rest, you know?"

"Yeah. I mean, that would be nice," I said. It was strange now to tell it because the more I did, the less it felt like something that happened to me. It was some other version of me I didn't recognize. My ex-wife Chelsea became less real with each telling of our story. It was like the more my ex embraced the hotwife and cuckold fantasy, the less real she became and the more alien I became to myself. I was ready to put away the past and embrace the future: Hannah.

She tied me to the bed and removed her bottoms. I hoped she would lower her pussy to my face. Instead, she rubbed me with warm oil. I only caught glimpses of her pussy in the low light. My cage shone in the room's candlelight. At last she curled up next to me and toyed with my nipples.

"Tell me," she said.

# # #

My wife and Rick settled into a comfortable routine. Now that he lived with us and their relationship was out in the open, they soon dropped any pretense. Chelsea bought a lot of new lingerie. She purchased imported designs that fit her body exquisitely. She had always had trouble finding sexy bras for her large breasts, but a high-end shop helped find European designs that were both very sexy and held them up proudly. It amused her to hand down her old panties to me. She made me throw away my old boxers and briefs.

Chelsea seemed liberated completely from her former role. I'd never realized how much of her sexuality she'd repressed in our marriage. I should have guessed, given how much of my own I'd buried. Could I be surprised? Could I even complain?

Chelsea fucked Rick every chance she got, and Rick was happy to fulfill her needs. I sensed that he'd waited a long time for this and now he enjoyed free access to her. She denied him nothing. Still, I felt that my presence was important to Chelsea. If there was a lie left among the three of us, it was that everything was OK because Chelsea and I were still married. This was merely the way we had sex. Chelsea fucked Rick, and I watched. Sometimes I would fluff Rick for Chelsea. Other times, Chelsea would ask me to suck him with her. After Rick came inside Chelsea, I gently cleaned her pussy and brought her to additional orgasms. And occasionally, I would be the only one to bring her to orgasm that night. I felt most proud on those days.

I let them humiliate me and call me 'cuck' or 'cucky'. That was my place now. I kept the house for them, which gave them more time together. It calmed me to clean up the living room while they made out on the couch. I was active at least. It was better than standing by doing nothing, waiting for them to notice me. At least if I was bending over to pick something up, Chelsea might glance my way and ask me to come over and tongue her asshole while she rode Rick's cock. I enjoyed being useful like that.

Exhibition turned out to be one of Chelsea's biggest turn-ons. One night Chelsea grabbed my dinner plate and set it on the floor. I bent down and ate from there. But then I understood part of the reason she had me down there was so I could see her stroking Rick's cock through his pants while they ate dinner and made small talk. From that night on, she had me eat all my meals down there.

Some nights, though, were special. Chelsea or Rick would get an idea of how to use me or humiliate me uniquely. I lived for those days or weekends where they used me as a focus of their play.

One Friday night, they invited Parvathi over for dinner. She was the petite, curvy Indian woman who had been part of our Halloween cuckolding party. (That's how I thought of it now.) She knew Chelsea from work and had a crush on her. Chelsea seemed to rely on her experience with cuckolding.

Chelsea took over cooking from me. Although, I typically made the meals now. It freed Chelsea and Rick up for more fun. She said, "Parvathi has something special for you."

"Follow me," Parvathi said and went into the living room.

We sat on the couch. Even though Parvathi had played a part in my greatest humiliation at the Halloween party and had seen me at my most exposed, I still felt awkward sitting there only wearing one of Chelsea's green thongs. It was transparent and Parvathi could see my cock tucked within the small triangle of cloth. I kept myself shaved for them and so it felt even more exposed than if I'd been naked. I wished my cock looked more impressive, but I was even more afraid I'd get an erection in front of Parvathi.

She noticed my discomfort. "It's cute," she said, and I wasn't sure if she meant the panties or my penis. She set some bottles up on the coffee table and said, "Hold out your arm."

She was on my left, so I gave her that arm. She stretched it out and turned my wrist up. "Now, don't watch because it's a surprise," she said.

I felt her clean and dry my inner forearm and rub some oil on it. Then she grabbed a bottle with dark paste.

"Is that henna?" I said.

"Mm hm. Now don't fidget. I want this to be clear."

I felt the tickle of the tip of the bottle against my skin and tried to be still. But given our experiences, I couldn't imagine what she might draw or write on me. I knew henna tattoos weren't permanent, but could last for weeks. I realized I would have to go to work with whatever she drew. I figured I'd be wearing long sleeves for a while.

She finished and then, before I could see the paste on my skin, she said, "Turn that way and put your hands behind your back." I did and felt her place handcuffs on my wrists. These were the same padded handcuffs she had used on me during the Halloween party.

"This needs to dry and we wouldn't want you peeking," Parvathi said. With my arms locked behind me, Parvathi reached around and stroked my erection lightly, making sure it was poking out of the top of my panties. I shivered.

She whispered in my ear, "I'm going to make your wife come so hard tonight." Then she called out to the kitchen. "All done!"

"Same here," Chelsea said. "Come and get it."

I felt extra humiliation with my hands cuffed behind my back, eating dinner on the floor with Parvathi there. It was even weirder because the three of them sat on the other side. Chelsea in the middle. She groped Rick while Parvathi stroked her. Parvathi even had to eat left-handed, but I don't think she cared too much about eating. Not dinner, at least. I felt annoyed because I knew it meant that Parvathi was going to eat Chelsea out tonight and I might not get a taste at all.

Halfway through dinner, Chelsea was kissing each of them in turn. Then they left me to go into the bedroom together. I had also lost interest in eating. My face was a mess too because I struggled to keep my balance before I worked out how to eat and not face plant. Unable to clean up the kitchen, I went down the hall and lay down by the bedroom door; I fell asleep listening to the sounds inside.

Late in the night, I woke to Rick nudging me with his foot.

"C'mon, buddy. You've got a mess to clean up."

Groggy, I rolled myself up to my knees, my hands still behind me. He stood there by the door. His cock was limp and wet.

He said, "Are you gonna clean this up?"

I shook my head. I glanced toward the open bedroom door. I couldn't see inside.

I said, "I only do that for her."

A puzzled look crossed Rick's face. "Huh," he said, "OK, dude, I get it. Whatever makes her happy, right?"

I nodded, and he gestured toward the open door and I followed him into the room.

Parvathi was kissing Chelsea. The top sheet and blankets were balled up on the floor. The girls entwined their legs, and as I entered the room, my wife lifted her knee up, giving me a clear view of her pussy. It was coated with cum and leaking still more.

She said, "Parvathi doesn't eat cum, so be a dear and clean me up so she can taste me again."

Rick said, "I'll leave you to it," and left the room. Presumably for a snack. He hadn't finished his dinner either.

I crawled onto the bed and nestled my face between Chelsea's legs. Tonight, I didn't worry about drawing it out. I knew she didn't want a tease. I was getting her ready for Parvathi's tongue again. They kissed each other and giggled at my moans and slurps as I savored each creamy lick and blob. Chelsea tightened her pussy, and I felt more drip out for me.

I felt my cock harden as I pressed against the sheets. I had to be careful not to come.

When I finished cleaning every fold and could taste only Chelsea's sweetness, I shifted focus automatically to Chelsea's clit, which made her squirm.

Parvathi said, "I think that means he's done his duty."

Chelsea murmured and used her foot to push me away. Parvathi slid down and took my place between my wife's thighs. Parvathi slipped two fingers inside Chelsea's pussy and kissed Chelsea's sex.

"Oh, fuck," Chelsea said. "Whatever you're... mmm."

With Parvathi bent over the end of the bed, she separated her knees so I could see the pink between her dark brown labia. I took the hint, nestled my face there, and lapped. She was slick and tasty. I could just catch a hint of Rick's pre-cum confirming he had fucked her earlier, but hadn't come inside her. I guess Parvathi was also willing to do things just to please Chelsea.

I heard his voice behind me. "Geez, it's like Human Centipede in here." He laughed, but I ignored him and kept eating. Parvathi was squirming now. I took the moment to move to her asshole. She liked that, because I felt her press back.

Soon, my wife was in a frenzy. Parvathi had her to a place quickly where she was cresting in her orgasm, but seemed to hold her there. Chelsea uttered every curse word I think she knew and a few I didn't. She screamed and grunted, while Parvathi and I both struggled to keep our mouths where they were. Then, with a last guttural moan, my wife collapsed, and Parvathi could grind back against my face to focus on her own orgasm. She bucked her pussy and ass on my soaked face, using me to bring herself off, which she did with a deep moan. Then she crawled away from me to curl up next to Chelsea. They kissed weakly. I stood up and Rick slipped into bed next to Chelsea.

He said, "The poor guy's got a stiffy and can't even jerk off."

Chelsea half-opened her eyes to look down at the bed at me. My cock was sticking up from the green thong and dripping pre-cum. My face was drying with spit, cum, and both women's cream.

Chelsea said, "Go ahead, cucky, and hump the bed for us. You've got to clean the sheets tomorrow, anyway."

Rick chuckled, but all three looked at me expectantly. I bent myself over the end of the bed and pressed my cock against the smooth sheets. I realized I needed relief and didn't care that they were watching. In fact, I looked at their faces, letting myself hump the bed like a dog, displaying my need for them to mock. When I saw a hint of a smile on Chelsea's face, I whimpered and came. I grunted and moaned as I felt the hot cum spread into the sheet below me.

Panting, I slid down and found myself with my face in the wet spot. I heard their laughter as they realized I was sucking my cum out of the puddle there.

*

In Hannah's bedroom, as I told this part of the story, she was lying on top of me and rubbing her pussy on my caged cock. She found it was smooth and firm enough that she could actually fuck it if she got the right angle.

"My little cumslut," she cooed, and she rocked against me. I found her so sexy, wearing only the bra top with the rings exposing her nipples.

My cock struggled inside its cage. The desire was strong, but there was no place for the blood to go. My flesh filled the small cage. I could feel her motions, but my skin sensed only the pressure of the steel sheath. It was maddening.

"Poor Johnny," Hannah said. "Do you understand how frustrated I am now? I need a hard cock so bad."

I groaned.

"And you tease me with your stories of how dirty you are and I just want to make you spurt and spurt so you can show me how hungry you are for cum."

"P-please," I moaned. "Please, I'll do anything if you let me out."

"Oh, Johnny. You think you will do anything when I free you? But I know you'll do anything from now until then."

I whimpered. At that moment, I wanted to say, "Try me."

Hannah got up and went to her drawer of toys. She got out a large dildo and handed it to me.

"You need to fuck me with this right now, Johnny. You need to fuck me with it before I run down to the bar and find some rando to throw me over a pool table."

"Yes, ma'am," I said. I knew it was hyperbole, but the image vibrated through me.