Hubby's Cage: Wife Begs Boss to Breed

Mark knelt in the dim corner of their bedroom, his wrists bound loosely behind his back with silk ties—Lisa's favorite way to keep him "in his place." The pink plastic chastity cage squeezed his pathetic little cock, locked tight for three agonizing weeks now. Every twitch sent a jolt of frustrated need through him, but he didn't dare complain. Lisa loved him like this: timid, humiliated, utterly hers. She lounged on the king-sized marital bed in a sheer black negligee that barely contained her full, heavy tits and the flare of her wide hips. Her long auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her green eyes sparkled with wicked intent as she sipped champagne.

The doorbell rang, and Lisa's lips curled into a predatory smile. "That's my big, strong boss," she purred, glancing at Mark. "Be a good boy and stay quiet, hubby. This is about my promotion... and so much more."

Mark's heart pounded as she sauntered downstairs, her ass swaying hypnotically. He strained against the cage, the pressure building already. Derek was everything Mark wasn't: tall, broad-shouldered, with a chiseled jaw and a reputation at the office for closing deals—and allegedly, closing legs. Lisa had teased Mark for months about Derek's "massive bulge," describing it in filthy detail during their chastity play sessions. Tonight, she'd made it clear: Mark would watch.

Lisa led Derek into the bedroom, her hand possessively on his muscular arm. He wore a crisp white shirt stretched over his pecs and slacks that did nothing to hide the obscene outline snaking down his thigh. "Mark, say hello to the man who's about to make my career—and my pussy—explode," Lisa said, her voice dripping with lust.

Derek chuckled, his deep voice rumbling like thunder. "Evening, little guy. Lisa's told me all about your... situation." His eyes flicked to the cage, and Mark flushed crimson, shrinking further into the corner.

Lisa pushed Derek onto the bed, straddling his lap with shameless abandon. "Mmm, feel how wet I am already, boss?" She ground her soaked thong against his bulge, the fabric of his pants tenting monstrously. Mark whimpered softly, and Lisa's head snapped toward him. "Aww, listen to that. My hubby's tiny dick is trying to get hard in its cage." She reached down, her fingers dancing over the pink plastic prison. She flicked the cage hard, making Mark yelp. "Pathetic, isn't it, Derek? Locked up and leaking pre-cum while a real man sits on my bed."

Derek grinned, his hands gripping her hips as she rocked harder. "Show me what you've been hiding under those tight skirts at work, Lisa."

With a filthy moan, Lisa unzipped his slacks, fishing out his cock. It sprang free like a goddamn weapon—thick as Mark's wrist, veined and throbbing, at least nine inches of girthy perfection. Pre-cum beaded at the slit, and Lisa licked her lips hungrily. "Fuck, boss, it's even bigger than I fantasized. Look at this, Mark—your wife's stroking a superior cock right in front of you." Her fist pumped the shaft slowly, twisting at the flared head, her other hand still teasing Mark's cage from afar. "This beast is gonna stretch me like you never could."

Mark's mouth went dry, his caged nub straining futilely. "Lisa, please..."

She laughed, cruel and aroused. "Please what? Unlock you? No, sweetie. Derek's gonna breed my fertile pussy tonight. You can't even cum without my key. Beg him to fuck me, Mark. Beg your wife's boss to fill me with his seed."

Tears of humiliation pricked Mark's eyes, but the twisted heat in his gut made him obey. "P-please, Derek... breed my wife. Give her what I can't."

Derek groaned as Lisa jacked him faster, her thumb smearing his pre-cum. "Hear that? Your hubby's volunteering my cum for your womb."

Lisa shoved Mark forward with her foot. "Kneel closer, cuck. Watch up close while I worship this dick." Mark crawled to the foot of the bed, face inches from where Lisa's hand blurred on Derek's meaty pole. She spat on it, the saliva dripping down the shaft as she pumped. "God, I need this inside me. My ovaries are begging for your baby batter, boss. Mark's sterile little swimmer factory is offline forever in that cage."