The Key

The Key - 11

During the following days, weeks and months, I walked a fine line between fear and certain defeat. It seemed like the cage had become a permanent unwelcome part of me, a constant reminder that I'd never enjoy Amanda's body again. Amanda wasn't cruel about our likely future; at least she tried not to be. She did take the opportunity now and then to tease me about it, but then she always did love to tease me. Most days it was her casual attitude, that Eric owned her pussy now and that his cock was much more than an acceptable replacement for mine in our bed, that added to my anxiety.

Amanda rarely wore any clothes around the house, and had somehow learned to "stroll" in a way that accentuated her hips and breasts. After a while it occurred to me that it was the "runway walk", an enticing way of crossing one foot over the other that made her hips sway and her breasts rise and fall with each step, a stride I noticed runway models use to make new fashions more desirable and the models more fuckable. I didn't know whether the sexy strut she had adopted was something Eric or Charles trained her to do, or whether she simply felt sexier knowing Eric's cock was always available to her. I was afraid to ask; I didn't need one more rave review of Eric's cock from Amanda.

Amanda continued to visit Eric at the office several times a week. Men had always stared at Amanda, so I wasn't surprised that every head turned when she arrived and strolled to Eric's office in a short skirt or revealing top. She'd close his door after she entered and I'd hear the lock snap shut. There was no question that he was fucking her there during work hours; many of the men there had endured Charles's practice of owning their wives as long as he wished in exchange for their astronomical salaries. Still, I noticed the looks on their faces as Amanda's visit brought back memories of their own wives panting at the end of Charles's cock. Some of the looks were of resignation, I guessed by the husbands who still had to give their wives to Charles when he came knocking. But some were of pain; I knew some of Charles's conquests didn't stay with their husbands after he abandoned them. Maybe it was just too much for their husbands to bear, or maybe their wives had become addicted to a cock like Charles's and left to find another one. Seeing their reactions bumped my anxiety another level, especially when Amanda strutted into my office on her way out to kiss me on the cheek. I could never quite decipher her sly grin then. Maybe I didn't want to.

I felt even sorrier for Jim, our newest accountant. His wife, Juliet, made a habit of coming to Charles's office almost every day at lunch, and her moans were so loud they drifted continuously through his door. Charles would see her off when they finished, standing in his open doorway watching her own unique strut, calling out, "You're welcome, Jules, come again any time." Jim would glance at her wicked smile and cower behind his computer screen, not yet even slightly acclimated to Charles's use of his wife like some of us had become. To add insult to injury, it was obvious that Charles had Juliet's breasts enlarged, an addition to her tall, slim frame that made her body every man's wet dream. I doubted Jim ever got to touch or even see them. I noticed his cage once in the men's room and let him know he wasn't alone in his misery. He zipped up, turned and headed for the door without a word. He looked defeated and empty.

The holidays approached, and I began to dread Charles's office parties from the stories I'd heard. Amanda was delighted when Eric delivered the dress he chose for her to wear. I was ****** to suffer watching her put it on that day. Eric's mood was especially upbeat and sadistic. He made me get naked before he let me watch her squeeze into the dress so he could see whether I'd get hard. I tried to look away and think other thoughts, but stealing a look now and then was just too tempting. It was agony, but I managed to stay semi-soft and hoped he wouldn't notice my dick creeping forward in the cage.

"Look at how it shows off her tits, man. And the slit up the front just might let everyone know what her shaved pussy looks like. You know they all imagine her naked when she comes to the office on her little visits, don't you? You know they all want to fuck her. Look at her! Tell me how fuckable she looks in this dress!"

The fiery red sheath was so thin and delicate it looked like it might fall to pieces with her every move. I couldn't take my eyes off her perfect breasts once I saw how the top of the dress barely covered them, nearly ******** her nipples as the tissue-like material molded her bare breasts. The gossamer material clung to her like a second skin; there was no doubt that she was naked under it. The slit in the front rose nearly to her waist, and as she walked to show it off I could see flashes of her pussy now and then. In fact, the fabric was stretched over her enticing mound and belly so tightly it revealed every line and curve, including the slit between her pussy lips. He couldn't possibly expect her to wear it in public, even at our private office party. I was stunned.

"Well, is she fuckable or not?" he demanded again. I see your dick is giving half your answer, but Amanda and I need to hear that you agree."

It was too late - I was already getting hard, already defeated again by another of Eric's traps. "She is," I said quietly, overcome with both shame and arousal. "I know they want her. Everyone wants her - they always have - guys with bigger dicks than mine. And now I know she wants them." Admitting that my beautiful wife needed more than I could give her had become more frequent and somehow easier, even with the angst simmering in my gut. As I answered Eric, my mind went back to the scene in our bedroom, just as his immense cock began to enter Amanda. I remembered the look of both wonder and elation on her face as he slid into her grasping pussy. And I remembered her cum face as if it was yesterday. Then I realized I was as hard as the cage allowed, the flesh of my dick trying desperately to escape the confining bars.

"It's okay, this time," Eric told me. "I'm hard myself. But you better stay soft when I'm not here with Amanda. I need to be sure you'll never try to fuck her when you get out of that cage. I own that gorgeous, tight little pussy now, and Amanda is happy that I do. So go ahead and stare. Just remember, she may be your wife, but her body belongs to me now. Got it?"

I assured Eric I understood, but was relieved he had allowed me my erection while I stared at Amanda's body in the dress. Her beauty was breathtaking, but there was something in the way it affected me that was more pornographic than simply wanting sex with my desirable wife. As she posed in the dress for us, I began to imagine her with Eric, fucking in position after position, her face a display of greedy satisfaction, his cock growing to impossible proportions as she was impaled repeatedly by his pulsing meat. Their fuck sessions had been playing daily on my computer at work, and watching Amanda evolve and thrive as Eric's plaything had allowed my angst to slowly subside and the raw excitement of their sex acts to begin to take its place. I didn't doubt that she still loved me, but her constant sly smile and her panther-like walk told me she had become a new woman, one of Eric's making. I had to agree; Amanda was the most fuckable woman I had ever seen, but not for me now - only for other men.


~*~


Charles's holiday parties were always over the top. He didn't care about social norms or appropriateness; that wasn't a big surprise after knowing he made a habit of fucking his employees' wives. I didn't know how big our little club was, only that Jim and I were currently members. Seeing how confidently he plucked wives from their husbands, I could tell he had a long, sordid history of it. I knew there were others, but wondered how many of them were the ones who stared at Amanda when she came to Eric for her sessions. I was sure their guilt was much like mine; in a way we were selling our wives' bodies in exchange for the lifestyle Charles provided. But how many others also found the eroticism surprisingly addictive? How many others got off watching Charles use their wives' bodies to satisfy his need to control everything around him, ignoring the potential damage in his wake?

There were fifty of us there that night; the husbands and wives hovered in small groups as they gossiped about the most recent office promotions and affairs while a few select single men moved through the crowd of guests like sharks sniffing out the fresh bait Charles tossed to them. Wives flirted with the sharks here and there while their husbands stood by silently, sweating and red-faced. There were no arguments, no fights, not a single unpleasant word. The price was too high. Allowing wifey's fantasy to surface and play a while was worth keeping one's position and money. It was Charles's game, and each husband knew it all too well. It was a kind of Russian roulette; whose wife would surrender to her fantasies and let the shark fuck her, shaming her husband for weeks to come back at work? And after, there were always the little jabs from Charles to remind everyone that the poor guy's wife had cuckolded him, and was likely a little slut. Still, living with Charles's games was part of the job.

Charles arrived at our house unexpectedly, an hour before the Christmas party was to begin. He wanted to watch Amanda get dressed and ordered me to watch from the chair in our bedroom while he helped her into the skin-tight dress. The neckline barely covered her nipples, and she tugged and tugged at it to try to keep it in place. I couldn't see how it would stay in place through the night without constant adjusting, but that seemed to delight Charles. The slit up the front opened dangerously close to her pussy when she walked. I stared at her legs as they were ******* through the slit, one after the other, naked nearly to her hips. Charles stood behind her as she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. His hands were on her shoulders, his hips pressed against her firm little ass. I was sure she could feel his cock harden.

"It - it shows soo much," she said as she stared into the mirror. "I'm not sure I can keep my boobs covered all night, Charles. I don't mind you showing me off, but I feel so *******, so 'available' showing myself like this to everyone at your office. Do you want them to see this much of me? Do you want the men there to try to fuck me? I thought you and Eric wanted me all to yourselves."

"You don't have to worry about any of that, Amanda," he assured her. "No one else is going to fuck you - they know the consequences. They might look, but they won't say a word. Everyone knows I'm in a position to take whatever I want, and that includes you. It's also time to make a few more things very clear. You need to show everyone that you're addicted to cock. They need to know deprived you've been and how hungry you are for it. I don't care how you do it, but they need to see it. And your husband has to show them that he approves of your little flirtations with other men, unconditionally. You both need to be convincing. If you're not..."

I knew very well what would happen if we didn't play his game - I'd be fired the following day and Amanda would still belong to him. I didn't know exactly what he expected from us, but I prepared myself for the humiliation of making it known I had surrendered Amanda to both Charles's and Eric's cock.

"You do understand, don't you?" he asked me. "I'm sure Amanda will give them quite a show with a bit of my help, but you need to show some enthusiasm, some humility, just as a submissive husband should. Can you do that? Convincingly?"

"I - I guess I can," I told him. "But it'll be in front of all those people - everyone I work with. What do you expect me to do, exactly?"

"I expect you to appear glad that Amanda and I have become such good friends. I expect you to smile when I fondle her a little. Nothing too obvious of course, but when I put my hands on her and her pretty little pussy drips for me, make everyone believe you want her to be happy. I'll want you to stay close to us all night though; I want you right there when I introduce Amanda to a few people she doesn't yet know. Other board members will be there with their wives, and a few men I thought Amanda will enjoy meeting. All I ask is that you play her quiet, submissive husband. Don't talk, and don't touch her. Maybe act like you know you don't deserve such a gorgeous, sexy woman. Just let her have fun and keep your mouth shut. You can do that, can't you?"

I told him I could. My guts were twisted in knots just imagining it though. I'd look like an idiot, one who doesn't have the sense to know when his wife is being used as another man's toy, a husband so clueless that he doesn't see his own wife's sexual yearnings for his own boss. It was going to be a long, painful night for me and my cage.


~*~


Charles had decided to drive Amanda to the party himself, leaving me to get there by my own means. I did my best to dress in a way that hid the bulge of my cage and raced to the office to join the party. Charles and Amanda had arrived before me, and I saw him leading her to a small group of couples at the far end of the room. He was holding her hand as everyone watched, the perfect couple to those who didn't know she was my wife. I dashed over to join them, afraid some may think Amanda was his date, or maybe his wife. Charles introduced me when I arrived at their side; I remembered to be quiet and accepting of whatever he had planned.

"Ahh, late as usual," he said to me, grinning. "This is the beautiful Amanda's husband who had so generously left her in my hands tonight due to his delay. The poor man works much too hard, I'm afraid. So many hours at the office away from Amanda. But you always find ways to occupy yourself, don't you, Amanda."

His smile was wide and leering as he fixed his eyes on her scandalously ******* breasts. Her wine glass was nearly empty, and she had let the neckline drop on one side to show a sliver of bright pink nipple. Amanda's eyes were wide and liquid, her smile uncomfortably giddy.

"Oh, I do, I do, Charles. I've learned to fill my spare time with things that please me, that excite me. I'm rarely lonely - sometimes I don't even miss him for days while he's gone, doing, well, whatever he does for you. He's such a dear - he gives me anything I want, anything at all..."

She was slurring her words, leaning against Charles's arm, squeezing his hand as she talked about me like I wasn't there. Both older couples' smiles tightened, looked down at the carpet for a few seconds, then drifted away to avoid any reply.

The remaining man before us was tall and well-muscled, huge actually. He towered over us by at least ten inches and gave no sign of retreating. His smile didn't give a hint of fading - in fact, he was openly grinning at us.

"Amanda, this is Vicente, a very old friend of mine. We do a significant amount of business with him in Spain. He's come all this way to join our little party, so be nice to him," he told her, grinning.

"You have such a beautiful wife," he said to me. "And I hear you are very good to her. I can see why."

I couldn't find words to answer him. The guy was a hulking giant, yet refined and polite. His sharp facial features were striking, as though taken from a Greek bust harvested from the Aegean. Amanda was staring up at him, a bit shaken, I thought. The top of her dress slid a bit more but went unnoticed by her. Both of her nipples were fully ******* and rising to hard little buttons of pink flesh. Without a word, Vicente reached out, took the edge of the dress in both hands, and raised it back into place. I noticed his finger graze her nipple and heard her gasp while she continued to stare into his dark eyes.

"I'm sure you are beautiful everywhere under that dress, Amanda," he said quietly. "But your body is not for everyone here to admire, or enjoy in other ways. It should be celebrated privately, without the prying eyes of those who don't understand who and what you are."

They stared at each other in silence for a full minute before Vicente spoke to her again.

"I hear your husband is a very generous man - far from the possessive or jealous type. Is that true?"

Amanda turned to look at me, now unsteady from the wine, her eyes pleading for the answer she so desperately needed to hear from me.

I nodded. "It's true," I confessed.

Vicente stepped closer to her and slid a hand under the slit of her dress, parting her legs in one practiced move. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face with his remaining hand, then placed a dark, probing finger against her lips. Amanda opened her mouth and sucked. He entered her more deeply, and she took the rest of his finger greedily.

"You are more than generous to allow her this, my friend," he told me. "Maybe a little crazy too, no? Letting your pretty wife slut for me? It must excite you. Does it?"

"It does," I admitted, feeling a hot flush of shame fill my cheeks.

Amanda was shivering and gasping in his hands, making obscene sucking noises as she devoured his long, thick finger. Her empty wine glass had fallen to the carpet and she was grasping the front of Vicente's pants, exploring, clutching, and rubbing his growing erection. We had moved to an empty corner of the room, but I still searched frantically about the room, terrified someone would notice. Charles noticed my panic, grinned at me, and whispered, "Not a word. Let them have a good look at who your wife really is." He was enjoying this - putting my wife in the hands of a handsome, powerful stranger.

The few seconds Vicente played with Amanda seemed like minutes, or at times much longer. Finally he released her and faced me. I was shocked when he reached for my crotch, felt the front of my pants for my cage, and grasped it in his hand. It was beyond anything I had imagined. Amanda and Charles watched him hold me there with a single hand, both of them waiting for his next move with growing expectation.

"There it is," Vicente announced. "I was told you were caged. It's a curiosity to me - in my country any man would be ashamed to let his woman do this to him. But we're not in my country, so men like you throw their wives at me, and their wives never object. How long has it been since you've made love to her?"

"It's - been, um, months now, I guess," I answered.

"It's been almost a year," Amanda added, still watching his hand tightly clutching my cage. "Charles and Eric won't let him touch me. His job depends on him doing whatever they want. That includes letting them have sex with me, for a year now. Not that I'm complaining..."

Vicente let go of my cage and returned to Amanda, his eyes roaming over her body. "How any man could allow something so beautiful to slip through his fingers is a mystery to me. Can you explain it to me? Can you tell me why you've trapped his manhood in this medieval device? Why would a ravishing, seductive woman choose to abandon her husband's member for those of other men?"

He ran his hands over the thin material covering her breasts as he questioned her. I watched her nipples nearly burst through the tissue-like material as her breathing deepened. Her eyes never left his; she was beyond caring whether others noticed them together or not.

"My husband never satisfied me - well, not often," Amanda offered. An embarrassed smile crept over her face. "In bed, I mean. I know he tried. I hoped things would change, that I'd be able to cum with him, at least now and then. But years went by, and they didn't. Charles seduced me, then gave me to Eric. They were both, um, bigger - better in bed. They made me cum, every time, more than once. I just couldn't go back to the way things were. I couldn't live without the sex they gave me. But it was Charles's idea to cage him. I know it embarrasses him and frustrates him, but he has to learn to accept it. It's the only way I can stay with him. Fucking other men has changed my life. I'm not going back to empty sex."

It was the first time I had heard her refer to our sex life as "empty sex". It surprised me at first, but mostly that she'd say it out loud to a stranger. He knew I was caged, and now he knew why. I was well on my way to accepting what Amanda had told him, but still ached for her body at times, especially during our little talks when she was naked and gushed about Eric's "amazing cock". But I had to admit, the response was becoming more physical than emotional. I still loved her as my sweet wife, but the tie between loving her and craving her perfect body was slowly disintegrating. Loving her was one thing, but her flesh was now something more foreign, a mouthwatering icon of the truly orgasmic sex she'd now have with the right man. I imagined her cumming with other men now constantly. It would get me hard, and the cage would remind me why.

"Well, it's still a mystery to me, but you've explained it in such an arousing way, Amanda," Vicente said, finally. "Do you fuck many other men?"

"Only Charles and Eric. They're enough for me. More than enough."

"Still, maybe you wonder if some your fantasies may yet come true? The ones that make you curious about other men? Maybe you'd like to leave with me to find out? With Charles's permission, of course."

Fuck fuck fuck! Charles stood there grinning, nodding, and shaking Vicente's hand. We watched Vicente take her hand, then followed them to the parking lot where he led her to his car. When they were both inside, I saw Amanda stretch her body across to his seat to kiss him. The top of her dress had fallen from her breasts, completely ******** the firm mounds of flesh in the ghostly light outside our office building. I could tell her hands were busy in his lap.

"Do you think he's big enough?" Charles teased as we watched them drive away. "I mean, knowing Amanda's appetite for cock?"

"So, you just gave her to him?" I asked, trying not to let my anger boil over. "You let a stranger take her into the night, god knows where? She's still my wife, Charles. How do I know she's safe? How do I know what he'll do to her?"

"Just go home, sport," he told me, still grinning. "Maybe you can get there in time to watch."

As I turned to race to my car, Charles stopped me. "You might need this to get on with your training. I'm sure Vicente will understand..."

In his hand was the tiny gold key to my cage.

"So, that's it? I'm free?" I asked, incredulous that he'd hand over my key and free me.

"Go jerk off, sport," he said, laughing. "Get off watching Vicente fuck her into a senseless stupor. Just remember that's what other men do now, not you. Her body's not yours anymore. Go on - go home and watch that beast of a man fuck your wife."