Cuckold's Teasing In-Laws Claim Their Slave

Cody had never pretended his marriage to Fiona was ordinary. At twenty-eight he had settled into the role of willing cuckold with a quiet pride that surprised even him. Fiona, twenty-seven and still glowing with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly how desirable she was, had been fucking her bull Rafael openly for months. Rafael was thick, heavy, and relentless; Cody had watched more than once from the armchair while that long cock stretched his wife open and made her scream. He cleaned her afterward. He held her while she came down. He thanked her for letting him stay.

This weekend the arrangement was supposed to stay private. Fiona’s older sister Estelle, thirty-two and sharp-tongued, had driven up with their mother for a long visit. The mother was forty-nine, still curvy, still elegant, still quick to notice everything. They arrived Friday afternoon bearing wine and easy conversation. Cody greeted them at the door in jeans and a soft shirt, already half-hard from the knowledge that Rafael would be coming by later.

It took less than three hours for the secret to surface.

Fiona had left her phone unlocked on the kitchen counter. Estelle picked it up to check a shared calendar and froze at the open photo thread. Rafael’s cock filled the screen—veined, glistening, half again as thick as anything Cody had ever offered. The next image showed Fiona’s spread thighs and the same cock buried to the root. Estelle’s eyes lifted slowly. Their mother looked over her shoulder, read the captions, and let out a soft, knowing laugh.

Cody felt the shift the moment he walked back in with fresh glasses. Estelle’s mouth curved. Their mother’s gaze lingered on him with a new, appraising heat.

“You’re very patient, Cody,” Estelle said, voice light. “The way you keep the house running while Fiona’s… occupied. Helpful nature. Rare in a husband.”

Their mother sipped her wine. “Some men would be difficult. You’re not difficult at all, are you?”

Cody’s face burned. He knew they knew. Fiona returned from the bedroom then, saw the phone in her sister’s hand, and simply smiled. No denial. No panic. She kissed Cody’s cheek and murmured, “They were going to find out eventually, baby. You’re doing so well.”

The rest of the afternoon passed under a thin veil of politeness. Estelle asked Cody to refill her glass twice, each time letting her fingers brush his when he handed it over. Their mother praised how neatly he folded the throw blankets, how quietly he moved around the kitchen. Every compliment carried a private edge. Cody’s cock stayed half-hard inside his jeans, trapped and useless. He caught Fiona watching him with open amusement, and when Rafael texted that he would arrive after dinner, she read the message aloud without lowering her voice.

“Rafael says he’ll be here by eight. He wants me ready.” She looked at her sister and mother. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Estelle’s smirk deepened. “Not at all. Cody’s used to making himself useful while you get what you need.”

By evening the teasing had shed its subtlety. They sat in the living room after dinner, wine glasses empty, the air thick. Rafael had not yet arrived. Estelle curled her bare feet under her on the couch and studied Cody openly.

“I’ve been thinking about how different the two of you must be,” she said. “Rafael’s the one who actually fucks her. You’re the one who fetches towels and stays hard without ever getting inside. That has to feel strange.”

Their mother leaned forward. “Does it, Cody? Watching a real cock ruin your wife while you wait your turn that never comes?”

Fiona laughed softly and rested a hand on Cody’s thigh. “He loves it. Don’t you, baby? Tell them how small you feel next to Rafael.”

Cody’s throat worked. “I… I know I can’t compare. He’s bigger. Thicker. He makes her come the way I never could.”

Estelle’s eyes lit. “Bigger. You say that so easily. I think we should see for ourselves. Stand up. Take everything off. Mother and I want to judge properly.”

Fiona’s fingers squeezed. “Do it, Cody. Show them what belongs to me—and what doesn’t measure up.”

His hands shook, but he stood. The room watched in silence as he peeled off his shirt, then his jeans, then the thin briefs that had been tented all evening. His cock sprang free—hard, flushed, and unmistakably modest. Five inches on a good day, slender, the head already leaking. Estelle covered her mouth and laughed. Their mother tilted her head, comparing the sight to the thick length she had seen on Fiona’s phone.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the mother said. “That’s it? That’s what you’ve been offering my daughter all these years?”

Estelle rose and circled him. She crouched just enough to look straight at his erection. “Look how cute it is. Little and polite. No wonder Fiona needed Rafael. That man’s cock is a fucking weapon. This is… decorative.”

Fiona reached out and flicked the head with one fingernail. Cody jerked. A fresh bead of precum welled. “He’s always like this when he knows he’s about to be humiliated. Tiny and dripping. Rafael’s going to walk in later and fuck me stupid while Cody stays just like this—hard and useless.”

Their mother stood as well. She and Estelle flanked him now, close enough that he could smell their perfume. Estelle’s hand closed gently around his shaft, not stroking, just holding the entire length in her palm as if weighing a curiosity.

“It disappears in my hand,” she murmured. “Rafael’s would hang out both ends. Fiona told me he stretches her so wide she walks funny the next day. You can’t even stretch her pinky.”

Cody’s face burned hotter. His cock throbbed helplessly in Estelle’s loose grip. He wanted to cover himself and could not move. Fiona watched with bright, hungry eyes.

“We’ve been talking,” Fiona said. “The three of us. While you were clearing plates.”

Estelle released him and wiped her fingers on his stomach as if cleaning away something insignificant. “We decided something. You’re already half a slave—fetching, waiting, thanking her for letting you watch. Why stop there?”

Their mother’s voice dropped into something richer, more certain. “We want you naked whenever we’re in the house. We want that little cock locked away so it can’t even pretend it matters. You’ll wear a chastity cage for us. You’ll kneel when we tell you. You’ll use your mouth and your hands on whichever of us wants relief, whenever we want it. Fiona already owns you. Now the rest of us will too.”

Cody’s breath came short. The idea crashed through him—cage, service, three women treating him as property. His cock jerked again, leaking onto the floorboards. He looked at Fiona. She was smiling the same soft, filthy smile she wore when Rafael first started coming over.

“Say yes, baby,” Fiona whispered. “Tell my sister and my mother you’ll be their slave.”

He swallowed. The word left him already half-broken with need. “Yes. I’ll be your slave. All of you. Cage me. Use me. I won’t say no.”

Estelle clapped once, delighted. Their mother reached out and cupped his balls lightly, almost fondly, the way someone might pet a well-trained animal.

“Good boy,” she said. “We’ll start properly once Rafael finishes with Fiona tonight. You’ll clean her, then you’ll clean us. And tomorrow we buy the cage.”

Outside, a car door closed. Rafael’s heavy footsteps approached the porch. Cody stood naked in the center of the living room, cock dripping, three women smiling at the new shape of his life, and the night was only beginning.

Rafael’s key turned in the lock before anyone spoke again. He stepped into the living room already half-hard under his jeans, took in Cody’s naked body and the three women surrounding him, and grinned like a man who had walked into exactly the party he wanted.

“Looks like the secret’s out,” he said, voice low and amused. He crossed to Fiona, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her hard enough that Cody heard the wet sound of tongues. When he pulled back he glanced down at Cody’s dripping cock. “Still the same little thing. Cute.”

Fiona laughed against his mouth. “He’s ours now. All three of us. We told him.”

Rafael’s hand slid down to squeeze Fiona’s ass through her skirt. “Then he can watch properly.” He stripped without ceremony—shirt, jeans, thick cock springing free, already longer and heavier than Cody’s entire erection. Estelle and her mother settled on the couch like spectators at a private show. Cody stayed standing where he was, naked and leaking, while Rafael bent Fiona over the arm of the chair, shoved her skirt up, and drove into her in one smooth thrust that made her cry out.

Cody’s cage of free air felt suddenly temporary. He watched every inch disappear, watched Fiona’s fingers claw the fabric, listened to the wet slap of Rafael’s hips. Estelle kept her eyes on Cody’s face the whole time. Their mother simply sipped the last of her wine and smiled whenever Cody’s cock twitched helplessly at a particularly deep stroke.

When Rafael finally pulled out and came across Fiona’s lower back in thick ropes, Fiona looked over her shoulder at Cody with glassy eyes. “Clean me. Now.”

Cody dropped to his knees without being told twice. He licked every drop from her skin, then pushed his tongue into her stretched, used cunt and tasted Rafael’s cum mixed with her own slick. Fiona sighed and held his hair. Estelle’s bare foot nudged Cody’s bare hip.

“Good. Keep going until she’s soft again. Mother and I want a turn with that mouth next.”

Rafael dressed slowly, kissed Fiona once more, and left with a casual “Have fun with your new toy.” The front door clicked shut. The house felt quieter and infinitely more dangerous.

Fiona stood, still flushed, and went to the bedroom. She returned carrying a small black box. Inside lay a clear plastic chastity cage, curved, snug, with a brass lock already threaded through the hasp. Cody’s stomach flipped. His cock, still hard and shiny with spit and precum, gave a desperate jerk.

“On your back,” Fiona said. “Legs open.”

He obeyed. Estelle straddled his thighs to hold him still while their mother cupped his balls and guided his shaft down. The plastic ring slid behind his balls first, cool and impersonal. Then the cage itself—short, restrictive—settled over his cock. It was sized for the soft state; as soon as the tube locked around him his erection fought uselessly against the walls. Fiona clicked the lock shut. The key went straight into the pocket of her skirt.

“There,” she murmured, tapping the clear plastic with one fingernail. “Pretty little thing. Locked away so it can’t even pretend it matters.”

Estelle laughed and stroked the cage once, feeling the trapped flesh pulse. “Look how red the head already is. He’s leaking through the slits.” Their mother reached down and gave the whole package a gentle squeeze that made Cody moan. “Perfect. Now kneel.”

He scrambled onto all fours, then sat back on his heels when Estelle pointed at the carpet. She hiked her skirt, pulled her panties aside, and sat directly on his face. The first taste of her was sharp and rich; her thighs closed around his ears. “Tongue out. Flat. Work that clit like your life depends on it.”

Cody licked. He licked until her hips rolled and her breath hitched. Their mother watched for a minute, then stood, stepped out of her own underwear, and waited her turn with regal patience. When Estelle came—quiet, controlled, thighs shaking—she rose and their mother took her place without a word. Cody’s tongue slid through softer, fuller folds. He pushed deeper, fucked her with it while she rested one hand on his head like she was petting a dog. She came twice before she let him breathe, first with a low sigh, then with a sharper cry that left her thighs trembling against his cheeks.

Fiona was next. She sat on the edge of the couch, spread her legs, and pulled Cody’s face between them by the hair. “Lick me while I talk about him,” she ordered. “Tell me how much smaller you are.”

He buried his mouth in her still-slick cunt. She described Rafael’s cock in filthy detail—how thick the head was, how it stretched her open, how the veins felt dragging against her walls—while Cody’s tongue circled her clit and his locked dick throbbed uselessly in its plastic prison. Estelle and her mother sat on either side of Fiona, idly stroking Cody’s hair or reaching down to flick the cage and laugh when he jerked.

“He’s dripping again,” Estelle observed. A thin string of precum hung from the tip of the cage. “Poor little thing. Can’t even get hard properly.”

Their mother leaned in and whispered near Cody’s ear while he sucked Fiona’s clit. “You’re going to spend the whole night rotating between us. Tongue, fingers, whatever we point to. No rest until every one of us has come as many times as we want.”

Fiona came hard against his mouth, thighs locking, hips grinding. The second she released him, Estelle pulled him over by the hair and pushed his face back between her legs. He licked her through another orgasm, then used two fingers the way she demanded—curled, pressing, while his tongue stayed on her clit. Their mother made him lie on his back so she could squat over his mouth and ride his tongue in slow circles, her wetness coating his chin. Whenever he slowed they reached down and squeezed the cage, mocking the frustrated pulse they felt under the plastic.

“Look at him,” Fiona said at one point, voice thick with fresh arousal. “Completely owned. Rafael’s cock is probably still hard somewhere thinking about me, and my husband is locked up licking my mother’s cunt like a good little slave.”

Cody’s mind floated on the humiliation. Every order—“Deeper.” “Faster.” “Now fingers too.” “Suck my clit while you finger me.”—sent fresh heat through his caged cock. He moved between their spread thighs on command, tongue aching, jaw sore, fingers pruned with their juices. Estelle came a third time with her heels digging into his back. Their mother came again while sitting fully on his face, muffling his moans. Fiona pulled him back last, made him eat her until she shook through two more orgasms while describing exactly how Rafael had felt bottoming out inside her earlier.

They kept him there for hours. The living room smelled of sex and perfume. Cody’s knees burned. His locked cock leaked steadily onto the floor, a small puddle of wasted need. Whenever one of them grew bored of his mouth she would stroke the cage gently and whisper how useless it looked, how pretty it was all locked up, how he would never fuck any of them again—only serve.

Near dawn Fiona finally let him rest his head on her bare thigh. Estelle’s foot still rested on his hip. Their mother sat in the armchair, legs crossed, looking down at him with satisfied eyes.

“Tomorrow we start proper rules,” Fiona murmured, cardsing her fingers through his hair. “Naked at all times when we’re home. Cage stays on. You kneel when any of us enters a room. And when Rafael comes back, you’ll clean me in front of everyone again.”

Cody’s tongue felt thick. His caged dick gave one last hopeless throb. He pressed a kiss to the soft skin of Fiona’s thigh and whispered, “Yes, Mistresses.”

Outside the first gray light was beginning to touch the windows. The key to his cock stayed warm in Fiona’s pocket. The weekend had only just begun.

Cody’s lips lingered against the soft skin of Fiona’s thigh as the gray light outside strengthened into proper morning. His jaw ached. His tongue felt swollen. The clear plastic cage trapped his cock in a relentless squeeze, the head flushed dark red and still leaking thin strings that had dried sticky on the carpet. Estelle’s foot remained warm against his hip. Their mother watched from the armchair with the satisfied stillness of a woman who had taken exactly what she wanted.

Fiona carded her fingers through his hair once more. “Up. Kitchen. Coffee and breakfast for all three of us. Naked. Cage stays locked. You don’t speak unless we ask you something.”

He rose on stiff knees. The brass lock chimed faintly when he moved. In the kitchen the cool floorboards bit his bare soles. He ground beans, heated milk, cracked eggs, plated toast and fruit while the three women drifted in one by one, still bare from the waist down, shirts half-buttoned. Estelle sat at the table and crossed her legs so her cunt was visible; she made him set her cup carefully between her spread thighs. Their mother took hers standing, one hand resting lightly on the crown of Cody’s head while he waited.

“Look at that little locked thing bouncing when he walks,” Estelle said. “Still trying to get hard. Adorable.”

Fiona sipped and smiled. “He’s going to stay like that all day. Every time one of us wants a mouth or fingers, he drops whatever he’s doing and provides.”

Cody’s interior world narrowed to the cage and the orders. Heat pulsed uselessly behind the plastic whenever their voices turned filthy. He cleared plates on his knees. He refilled water. When Estelle crooked a finger he crawled under the table, parted her thighs, and licked her open and wet while she finished her coffee and discussed with her mother how small he looked compared to the photos of Rafael. Their mother reached down once and gave the cage a firm squeeze that wrenched a moan from him; precum welled through the slits and dotted the floor.

By midday the living room had become their throne room again. Fiona lounged on the couch, legs open, and kept Cody’s face buried between them while she scrolled her phone and read Rafael’s messages aloud. “He says he can’t stop thinking about how wet I was last night. He wants me again soon.” She ground against Cody’s tongue. “Tell me how much smaller you are than him while you make me come.”

“I’m so much smaller,” Cody whispered against her folds, voice rough. “He stretches you. I never could. My cock is locked and useless. Only good for leaking while I serve.”

She came with a low, rolling sigh, thighs clamping his ears. The second she released him their mother called him over to the armchair. She draped one leg over the arm and pointed. Cody crawled, settled between her fuller thighs, and worked her with flat tongue and two curled fingers exactly as she directed. Estelle stood behind him, one bare foot pressing between his shoulder blades, forcing his face deeper while she laughed at the way the cage jerked and dripped.

“He’s going to spend the rest of his life like this,” Estelle said. “Wife, sister-in-law, mother-in-law—three cunts to keep happy and a plastic lock so he never forgets he doesn’t get to fuck any of them.”

Their mother came with a richer, deeper sound than the night before, hand heavy on Cody’s head, hips rolling until her wetness coated his chin and nose. She held him there through the aftershocks, then pushed him gently toward Estelle.

Estelle sat on the edge of the coffee table, skirts hiked, and made him use both mouth and fingers in a steady rhythm she dictated with short commands. “Harder on the clit. Fingers deeper. Curl. Suck. Good boy.” She came twice in succession, first quiet, then with a sharp cry that left her calves trembling against his shoulders. When she finished she wiped her wet fingers across his mouth and the front of the cage alike.

Afternoon light slanted through the windows. They rotated him without mercy. Fiona made him lie on his back so she could squat over his face and ride slowly while describing every detail of Rafael’s thick cock—the way the head flared, the veins, the heavy slap of his balls. Estelle straddled his chest facing away and ground her cunt along the smooth plastic of the cage, laughing when his trapped flesh tried and failed to swell. Their mother sat on the couch and simply pointed; Cody crawled and pleasured her again until her second orgasm of the afternoon left her legs loose and her breath slow.

Evening arrived with the smell of the simple dinner Cody had cooked on his knees. They ate while he waited naked beside the table, cage glistening with fresh precum. After the plates were cleared Fiona stood, stretched, and looked at her sister and mother with bright, lazy hunger.

“One more round each. Properly. Until we’re completely done with him for the night.”

They took him back to the living room carpet. Estelle went first—on her back, knees to her chest, Cody’s tongue and three fingers working her open until she shook through a long, shuddering climax and then a second smaller one that left her boneless. Their mother followed, seated on the edge of the couch, one hand in Cody’s hair, guiding his mouth in slow, deep strokes while she told him in a calm voice that he would never again feel a cunt around his cock, only around his tongue. She came hard, thighs locking, a soft cry escaping before she released him.

Fiona saved herself for last. She pulled him between her spread legs on the couch, locked her ankles behind his head, and made him eat her with single-minded focus while Estelle and their mother sat close on either side, stroking his hair, flicking the cage, murmuring how pretty and pathetic the locked little cock looked. Fiona described Rafael’s last visit in filthy detail—the stretch, the depth, the way she had come around that heavy shaft—until her own orgasm crashed through her, hips bucking, wetness flooding Cody’s mouth. She held him there through every pulse, then through a second rolling climax that left her flushed and smiling.

When she finally let him lift his head the three women were loose-limbed, satisfied, eyes half-lidded with spent pleasure. Fiona rose, disappeared briefly into the bedroom, and returned with a pair of leather cuffs linked by a short chain.

“Hands behind your back.”

Cody offered his wrists without hesitation. The cuffs buckled snug. The cage remained locked, the key still warm in the pocket of Fiona’s discarded skirt. Estelle and their mother watched with quiet approval as Fiona led him by one bound arm into the master bedroom.

She pointed to the floor at the foot of the wide bed. “Sleep there. On the floor. Cage stays on. Hands stay cuffed. Tomorrow you wake up early, still locked, and you make breakfast for whoever is in this bed.”

Cody sank to his knees, then stretched out on the carpet, cheek against the soft pile, arms locked uselessly behind him. The plastic prison kept his cock in its constant, aching confinement. Fiona sat on the edge of the mattress, phone in hand, and typed while Estelle and their mother settled against the pillows.

Her message to Rafael was simple and open on the screen for a moment before she sent it: Come over tonight. Stay the night. Our new slave will serve breakfast in the morning and clean up every drop after you fuck me. He’s locked and cuffed and ready to be useful.

She set the phone on the nightstand. The three women arranged themselves comfortably under the covers. Cody lay still at the foot of the bed, listening to the soft rustle of sheets, the quiet settling of their breathing. The house grew still. Outside, full dark had fallen. No one spoke again.

Silence.