Bradley Jones's Chastity - Chapter 18 - FINAL CHAPTER
Femdom romance in the CARGO 'verse, where the NHS installs permanent chastity devices!
“Hello Bradley.”
It’s late evening, dark with a hint of wintry rain. Caroline’s front door is a rectangle of warmth and light and she stands in it like as if posing for a religious icon.
She’s fresh from a dinner party. Her hair is up, and she’’s wearing that black velvet dress she had on when first we met. It hugs her slender hips and drapes over her long legs, overlapping tight knee-high boots.
I get hard just looking her. “It’s cold out here,” I say, suggestively.
Caroline shakes her head. “I’m sorry Bradley...”
There’s that ever-so-subtle lisp, the wet click that draws attention to her full lips, and makes me remember her other lips and what they are like when wet.
“...however,” she continues, “try as I might, I cannot envisage enjoying conventional penetrative intercourse. It seems I love you, but I am just not in love with you. In fact---.”
I forget my prepared speech and simply unzip my jacket to expose my gold collar.
Caroline stammers into silence. She... ripples from booted toe to flushing cheeks. “Well, that changes every---.” She interrupts herself with a gasp, descends the two steps and flings herself at me.
I stagger back.
Caroline grabs my waist, clamps my neutered groin to V between her braced thighs.
The soft bump tightens my crotch. The Capon Cage seems to clench around my pierced penis.
Caroline nuzzles my neck like a vampire. Not my neck... the gold collar. She’s actually kissing the gold collar and making little moaning sounds while she grinds her crotch against mine.
We’re literally dry humping in her front garden, but she doesn’t care!
I stroke her spine through the velvet, snagging her bra strap. “Does this mean...?”
“Bradley --- Oh! --- shut up!” her hips twitch and vibrate. “Oh... my goodness...” She lets out a muffled squeak, then sighs and releases me to hold both my hands.
My lost penis pulses so hard reality ripples and my legs to wobble. “Help!”
Caroline treats me to a rare grin, and it’s like winter is over. “You now are officially, the most attractive man in the entire world --- now let’s get inside so I can remove these wet knickers.”
I could. I could just go inside with her and have my happily ever after. Except. “Caroline --- it’s not that simple.”
Lydia emerges from the shadows of Caroline’s front garden like the ghost of a lesbian Beat Poet: beret, leather jacket over black turtle-neck, swishy ankle-length skirt. “Surprise.”
Caroline looks from her ex wife to me --- her ex boyfriend - then back. Then she slaps me, hard.
My cheeks are cold, the pain is a white explosion in the dark. My cock spasms, drains joylessly and I sink to my knees on her garden path.
“Oh God, Bradley. I’m not supposed to...” Caroline contemplates me with her big brown eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I love you!”
“I’m a monster. You cannot-”
Lydia steps over me and kisses Caroline on the mouth.
Caroline emits a surprised mewp! then returns the kiss.
I can only kneel there on the cold crazy paving, feeling the damp soak into my jeans while the two beautiful women I love neck and my limp penis twitches and flexes like a dying fish.
Footsteps go by on the street. Somebody laughs.
Caroline pulls away. “I’m too aroused to think clearly. This is madness. Bradley, come.”
Lydia snorts. “That’s one thing he can’t do.”
“Oh.” Caroline literally sways.
My penis twitches in protest. I ignore it and shake my head. “Caroline, we’re a package deal.”
She squirms, long legs sliding together. “That’s ridiculous. Nobody respectable. I mean... ”
“Seriously,” says Lydia. “Neither of us are enough for you, so we thought maybe both of us together would do the trick.”
“Oh God, perhaps I don’t know, but...” Caroline’s normally incisive voice has a Marilyn Monroe Grade breathiness. “Just come inside... both of you...” She wobbles. “We can... untangle... ourselves out later.”
The hall floor is piled high with junk mail. Coats lie in layers on the old church pew. Shoes and boots jumble underfoot. I glance into her study. It’s even worse. Used coffee cups rise from a sea of books and papers.
Caroline turns. “Get me out of these boots, Bradley.”
As I crouch to unzip her boots, Caroline hitches her velvet skirt up above the tops of her cashmere stockings. All-but hyperventilating, she pulls down her panties. Bare thighs flash then she steps out of boots and panties. The crotch of the skimpy white garment is sodden with her juices.
My penis --- which clearly will never learn its lesson --- inflates hopefully against the bars of its permanent cage. I let out a muffled. “Oh, Jesus!”
Caroline hooks a stockinged toe into the waistband of the panties. “Having a hard time, are we Bradley?”
My penis throbs painfully, forcing a whimper from my lips. I shuffle backwards as if from a live hand grenade.
Caroline sighs raggedly. “There’s no way to escape being... a monster now. Even if I send you away forever, just ruminating on your plight will...” Her voice rises; “...arouse me.”
I shudder but I can’t look away from those juice-sodden panties.
With a squeak that might be a giggle, Caroline flicks the panties with her toe. Lydia snatches them out of the air like a wedding bouquet and shamelessly sniffs them. “Mmmm.”
Caroline rises and flits up the stairs. At the half-way landing, she turns. “So, I am doomed to be forever a monster. The question is then...” She pulls off her dress, so now she’s standing there in just her dark stockings and white bra, pale thighs framing her bush. She shakes out her shoulder length hair. Her big brown eyes flash. “Do you both love me as I am?”
I just gasp, but Lydia manages a, “Fuck yes!”
She and I thunder up the stairs towards Caroline.
Caroline lets out a playful squeak and flees to the bedroom.
We find her draped over the foot of her four-poster bed, legs spread so that her thick inner lips pout through her chestnut curls.
The sight is like a punch to the groin. I buckle and stumble to my knees.
Lydia shoves past me. She takes two booted paces, then kneels at the foot of the bed. Still wearing her beret, she grabs Caroline’s slender thighs and buries her face in her ex wife’s crotch. She groans as tongue and pussy make wet sounds.
Caroline squirms and purrs, points her stockinged toes.
Without breaking mouth-to-vagina contact, Lydia shrugs off her leather jacket.
My caged penis bears like a second heart. My head spins and I start to weep. I’m literally hopelessly turned on. “Oh God, what have I done?”
“Bradley.” Caroline has raised her head off the duvet. “Come and kiss me.”
I lose my coat and shoes and clamber up onto the bed to kneel next to her.
Caroline fixes me with her big brown eyes and strokes my cheeks. “You’re crying.”
I nod.
“Does all this hurt?”
I nod.
Caroline shudders. Her hands grasp my face and she crams my mouth to hers. She lets out a throaty growl that buzzes through my lips. Then she gnaws and sucks at them while I risk little flicks of my tongue.
An iron fist seems to clench my groin in time to the pulse in my ears. A burning sensation forms just behind the head of my lost cock.
Caroline arches her back, reaches behind. Her bra comes away, unveiling her little creamy half-globes with nipples like small lipsticks. She pushes my head down.
I take the hint and capture a nipple. The subtle taste of skin and soap further compresses my captive groin and I let out another sob. My tears splash her perfect skin.
Lydia’s eyes twinkle at me from behind the frizz of Caroline’s pubic hair. The wet sounds settle into a rapid peels of splat-splat, like a nymphomaniac woodpecker on a rainy day.
Caroline gasps. The nails of one hand gouge my back. “I can feel... Oh my goodness!” She lets out a throaty squeak. “Tears... Oh no... oh...”
I grab her other breast, squeeze the nipple. Maybe if she comes I’ll come...
Again Caroline arches her back, this time every muscle is taut and I have to kneel up in order to keep my mouth on her breast.
Her orgasmic cry spears through me, seeming to pierce my engorged penis so that it’s hard to breathe.
She flops back to the counterpane with a groan.
I kneel up and contemplate her perspiration-drenched skin. An orgasmic flush has spread from her cheeks, down her delicate throat to the valley between her breasts.
Meanwhile my penis is still fills its forever cage like set concrete, poised to tip over into orgasm, never to reach that point.
It’s too much! I roll onto my side to look away from her curl into a foetal ball and weep.
Lydia stands up. Her face is shiny with Caroline’s juices. She licks her thin lips. “God I’m horny.” With a dramatic flourish, she whips off her black turtle neck to reveal bare breasts. With her wild dark hair and full skirt, Lydia looks like one of those ancient Cretan snake goddesses.
A sharp spasm runs through my useless cock. I bite back a sob.
Behind me, Caroline sighs. “And now we’re back at our impasse. Unless I’m feeling toppish, selfish erotic languor is my default. That’s not going to ever change.”
Lydia flashes her wicked ragged-toothed smile. “But that’s what Jones is for.” A zip! and the skirt drops away so now she’s wearing only stockings and boots.
Grey-olive thighs frame her pubic triangle. Something glistens between her neat outer lips.
I whimper and curl up on myself.
“He’s actually averting his eyes, poor man,” says Caroline. “I’m terrible for saying it, but I find that impossibly arousing.”
Lydia laughs. “Come on Jones, be a good sport, look at me!”
I shake my head.
Her boots approach and a sticky finger pushes past my hands to press against my mouth.
Lydia’s strong musk invades my nostrils. I can’t help but suckle on it.
The taste uncurls my limbs, sets me shuddering. I glimpse stocking tops and smooth thighs. I close my eyes.
The bed creaks. Boot heels press into my upper arms. Damp pubic hair tickles my cheeks. A wet pussy presses into my face. A familiar musk envelops me.
“Lick,” orders Lydia, above me. “I mean, just because you can’t have an orgasm doesn’t mean you get to be selfish, Jones.”
I hook my tongue against her big clitoris. It’s hard and engorged and it only takes a flick to make Lydia gasp. More flicks and the juices cascade into my open mouth and she starts talking. “Caroline... you’re so beautiful...”
Damn her! It’s me doing the licking. I shift to snag her clitoris with the back of my front teeth and grind with my tongue.
Lydia groans, rocks her hips. “Oh wow oh god CAROLINE!” She lets out a long, low groan that turns my caged groin into a ball of fire that I can sense even with my eyes closed.
Then she rolls off me, satisfied. There’s the thud of boots on bedroom floor. When I sit up, both women are on their sides, stockinged legs entwined, hands stroking flanks.
Caroline sighs. “God, I’ve missed you, Lydia.”
Lydia kisses her on the lips. “This works, doesn’t it? Jones squares the circle.”
“Hey,” I say, “I’m still here.”
Lydia rolls onto her back, making her big breasts flop. “Well it’s not as if either of us can do anything for you, Jones. Ever.”
My lost cock heaves in its forever-prison. “Oh God.”
Lydia laughs. “We don’t even have to torture him to torture him.”
Caroline gasps and half-bends her long legs, like a swimmer. “I feel darkly liberated.” She props herself up on one arm, resting one stockinged calf on the other, pressing together her slender thighs so that her inner lips are just a splash of glistening ruby between honey pale curves.
I shudder and mumble like a madman; “What have I done what have I done?”
Caroline looks at Lydia. “I suppose Bradley’s presence lets you switch as well?”
Lydia grins. “Exactly.”
“Only you were always so inventive with your bondage scenarios. I felt so guilty turning them down.”
Lydia glances at me. Her small eyes twinkle. “Well I have a scenario in mind right now. Jones? Did you bring your ‘dong thong’?”
“Oh God no,” I blurt. Then --- catching a glance from Caroline’s brown eyes --- “Yes.”
I run off to the bathroom to strip and get into the web of silicone mesh. In the bathroom mirror, I just can’t muster up the illusion. I just look like a man with a dildo sticking out of his crotch.
There’s a knock on the door.
Lydia --- still naked except for stockings --- pushes in. “Hurry up. Some of us need to pee.” She perches on the WC.
Caroline also appears in the open doorway, wrapped in her Chinese robe all-but hopping from foot to foot.
I leave them to it and --- dildo wobbling --- hurry back the warmth of the bedroom.
“Shit.”
What I see causes me to halt in my tracks.
They’ve brought the toy box out of the cupboard. The duvet is draped over a chair. On the bed are several whips and not one but two short bondage bars, each with cuffs clipped to its ends.
Is this who I want to be?
The women burst back into the room, laughing about something.
“OK, Jones,” says Lydia. “Get on the bed and we’ll get you strapped up.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a chew toy.”
Caroline lets her robe fall. “On the contrary, I think you’ll find that you are.”
The blood drains from my brain into my cage-neutered groin. Of their own accord, my hips twitch.
Caroline pads closer, thighs luminous above dark stockings, vulva as mesmerising as the head of a snake, poised to strike. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”
My legs start to shake.
Caroline reaches out an elegant hand and slips her fingers into my gold collar. She leads me onto to the bed, has me kneel up. Then she kneels facing me, her stockinged knees just touching mine.
Our eyes meet, and she kisses me. Its a gentle touch of lip to lip but it’s enough to revive my penis in its cage.
Straps tighten round my ankles.
Breasts jouncing, Lydia gets on the bed behind Caroline. “Go on, Jones, give her a hug.”
Caroline nods, so I reach my arms around her.
Lydia --- of course --- catches my right wrist and straps it to the second bondage bar. My left wrist follows, so now my hands are bound behind Caroline’s back.
Lydia announces, “Good to go!” and slips off the bed.
Smiling slyly, Caroline uncoils and rolls backwards, leaning into the wrist bar.
I have no choice but to follow her down onto the bed, so now I’m kneeling on my knees and elbows, the dildo just touching the notch between her thighs. “Oh god, I’ve missed this!”
“Me too.” Big brown eyes sparkling, Caroline cranes her swan neck and nibbles my lower lip, sending prickling sparks to my caged groin. “This is going to be even better than before. Lydia is a genius.”
“So...” Lydia has taken up position behind me. She continues in her boardroom voice. “We thought it would be fun to simulate real sex. However, since you can’t have an orgasm --- ever...”
I whimper. Oh god I’m going to start blubbing again.
“...we decided we’d simulate one using pain instead. I mean --- it’s loss of control one way or the other, in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter.”
I half turn my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Thrust,” orders Caroline. “Fuck me.”
I sink my weight.
Caroline tilts her hips and the dildo slides inside with a quiet splat.
There’s a swish and something cuts a line of pain into my buttocks.
I arch and try to leap up, but of course my wrists are strapped to the bondage bar that Caroline is lying on, and my ankles are bound only a few inches apart. I can only throw my head back and yowl.
Lydia laughs.
I twist and find her standing at the foot of the bed with one of Caroline’s vicious canes.
“You see, Jones?” Lydia’s eyes are twinkling beads of coal. “That’s just about the same sound you’d make if you had your real penis inside Caroline’s lovely velvety snatch.”
My groins starts to throb like an old engine.
Caroline reaches a long arm back and strokes my back side. Her voice is husky. “Did that hurt?”
“Of course it bloody hurt.”
Caroline makes a throaty sound, slides her bare arms around my ribs and clamps me against her small breasts. “Fuck... me...”
“No!”
She chews my lip. “Fuck me.”
My groin spasms painfully. I lift off to pull the dildo out, then slam it back in again.
Lydia’s whip slices into my buttocks, forcing a cry out of my lips.
Caroline groans and writhes under me.
“Very authentic,” remarks Lydia.
I kiss Caroline hard, thrust my tongue past her neat teeth. She slides hers against mine, forming a little whirlwind of pure desire that churns my cage-neutered groin.
I’m going to savour this moment, but I’m damned if I’m going to move so Lydia can beat me.
Caroline thrusts her pelvis, humping me from below. Her vagina makes little slurping sounds around the dildo. She emits her weird fox cry.
My buttocks quiver, twitch, and of their own accord yank the dildo out, then slam it back in again.
The cane flays my shoulders this time.
I squeal into Caroline’s mouth.
Caroline groans and shifts under me.
And damn it, I start thrusting in earnest.
The whip swishes and sears and cuts and it’s like a web of electrified barbed wire on my back and buttocks and still I thrust and---
Caroline arches under me, screams. Her nails gouge me from buttock to shoulder blades. She subsides into the mattress.
I’m still clamped to her by the bondage bars, so I lie on her sweaty body, my face over her shoulder, shuddering uncontrollably.
“My God,” she says. She lifts her hands to look at them. Her fingers are coated in red. “Blood, like Lady Macbeth. I’m a...”
She stiffens under me as if tensing every muscle. Then she kind of vibrates, draws in her feet, lifts me off the bed as if possessed, and she... screams.
Wet liquid sprays my thighs. The scent of woman-sex becomes overpowering.
Caroline crashes back onto the mattress. “Oh my god. I’ve never ever had an orgasm that intense.”
“His pain, your pleasure,” says Lydia. “I am a genius.”
Caroline just groans.
“But wait there’s more.” Lydia moves around the bed, reaches under Caroline. My wrists come free but they’re still bound by the wrist cuffs.
I open my mouth to object, but the words just slur.
“Come on now, Jones.” Lydia takes the back of my collar as if I was a dog. “Off the bed.”
I kind of slide backwards until I’m standing at the foot of the bed.
Lydia gets back in the four-poster bed, grabs my left wrist and clips it to the top of the upright --- I hadn’t notices some straps she must placed earlier. She does the same with the left hand, then my feet, so now I’m trapped in a loose X.
“Poor Bradley,” says Lydia, still standing on the mattress in her stockinged feet. “This has to be the sexiest night of his life. He’s watched me do you, he’s licked me, he’s fucked you... and we’re both wearing lovely stockings.”
Her words bring up instant flashbacks. My groin knots. I writhe in my bonds. The welts on my back and buttocks smart.
“And he can never ever come. Everything sexy we do hurts him. Instant sadism.”
Caroline squirms. “Mmmm... God yes.” She slides her long fingers over her groin, starts to rub. “I like that concept.”
“Budge up.” Lydia kneels between Caroline’s long legs, making the taller woman wriggle up the bed. The cashmere stockings create a weird sexy spider effect.
My hips twitch as if I could somehow come.
Lydia flicks back her long dark curls. “Let’s make him some more memories.” She lifts her bottom, tilts her pelvis and backs onto the dildo.
I thrust and it squelches into her.
“Perfect! Now fuck me Jones.” Once more, Lydia ducks her head between Caroline’s thighs and starts making slurping sounds.
I thrust, Lydia tongues, and Caroline just lies there staring at me with her big brown eyes. I try to avoid her gaze, but that means staring at the way she plays with her own nipples, stretching her breasts into cones of flesh, and the way Lydia’s black curly hair flows over her pale thighs, and her stockinged feet bracketing Lydia’s stockinged calves.
Lydia groans into Caroline’s pussy.
I thrust faster, smacking my belly against her long buttocks. Each impact makes my groin clench.
Caroline raises her head. “How do you feel Bradley?”
“Lost,” I blurt. “Turned on. Desperate. Hopeless.”
“Hopeless!” Her face flushes. “Oh my god this shouldn’t be possib---.” Her eyes bulge. She bites her lip, rolls her head, then she squeals as if her orgasm is being torn out of her.
Lydia’s licking becomes a frantic flurry of slapping. Caroline’s pussy barely muffles her groans.
Finally both women subside and there’s silence except for my sobbing.
Moaning, Lydia crawls up the bed, then passes out with her head on the pillow.
Caroline rolls her head onto Lydia’s shoulder, tangles stockinged legs and closes her eyes.
I’m left half hanging here, crucified by my own lust while blood drips from my violated back and buttocks.
Just looking at them makes my penis pulse in its cage. Caroline’s nipples are still erect and inner lips are swollen into a lewd pout. Lydia’s pubic hair is slicked back to reveal her neat outer lips. Her full breasts quiver in time to her breathing.
Wind howls beyond the curtained windows. A draft chills my marred skin. After a while I need to pee.
With some uncomfortable writhing and straining, I manage to unbuckle the strap securing my right wrist to bedpost. It only takes a few moments to free my other limbs.
In the bathroom, I get out of the dong thong.
I contemplate getting dressed, then realise I’ve left the women without covers.
Now naked --- except for the Capon Cage, of course, but I suppose that counts as a really fucked up prosthetic of a sort --- I creep back into the the bedroom. I carefully draw the duvet over the two women I love. They certainly look cosy together.
But now what?
Lydia yawns and props herself up on one elbow. Her long black hair flops over her face. She herds it over one ear. “Oh, stop faffing about and come to bed, Jones.”
“Is there space?”
Caroline rolls over. “I claim the middle.”
I climb in behind Caroline. She nestles her small bottom against my cage and we spoon like the old days... except when I wrap an arm over her, my hand finds Lydia’s naked shoulder.
Outside, the wind picks up. The windows rattle.
Caroline sighs. “I need never be cold again.”
“No masturbating, Jones,” says Lydia spoiling the moment.
Caroline laughs and wriggles. “Actually, I think everybody should masturbate.”
And I have to lie there in the dark, jostled by Caroline’s naked writhings, while the two women pleasure themselves one last time.
After, they drift off and I lie in the dark listening to them breath, inhaling their mingled musk, floating on the ball of lust between my legs.
Morning and Lydia sweeps into the kitchen in Caroline’s Chinese dressing gown. “That smells great, Jones.”
“Wonderful!” Caroline has on cosy pyjamas and and fluffy slippers. The innocent look is somewhat spoiled by the fresh damp patch in the crotch. I wasn’t the only person to wake horny; just the only person who couldn’t do anything about it.
“Fresh waffles, ladies,” I say, ignoring the tightening in my groin. “With bacon and maple syrup. Coffee’s brewing as we speak.”
I woke early, so I slipped out of bed and made a start on the kitchen. Caroline basically used up the work surfaces like a slash-and-burn farmer.
Now the women --- My girlfriends? That doesn’t sound right... --- have come down seeking breakfast. Both look so delightfully dishevelled that my groin tightens almost painfully.
Caroline grabs a stool and sits at the breakfast bar. “It’s good to have you back, Jones.”
She called me Jones, not Bradley. Odd.
They check the news on their phones and chat about work and the economy while I serve them breakfast and continue my tidying campaign.
“Enough clatter,” declares Caroline. “Jones, why don’t you start on the rest of the house while we finish breakfast in peace?”
“As you wish.”
Dismissed like a butler! And I responded like one. What happened to Caroline’s ethics?
Oh, but she said my permanent chastity puts her in permanent monster mode.
I think about the selfishness and beatings that implies and my Capon Cage clenches around my lost cock.
“Oh!” Lydia calls after me. “Change our sheets first, Jones.”
As I pad through the Victorian house, I remember that what Mariella said about relationships being about matching broken edges.
Maybe sometimes it takes three pieces to make a whole?
Caroline is aloof and Lydia is needy and both demand unconditional love. So, maybe, given time, I can graduate from --- be honest --- slave to something like partner.
The sheets reek of female sweat and juices and are scattered with stray pubic hairs. Caroline squirted when I dildoed her last night. Lydia’s tonguing left a big wet patch near the foot of the bed, and a fresh one in the middle.
My penis hardens in its cage and I have the dizzyingly urgent need to masturbate.
I lean on one of the bed’s big posts and try to calm my breathing.
Maybe, being the slave of these two wonderful women is actually enough for somebody like me?
One thing I do know: I’m not disposable anymore.
Congratulations on reaching the end. A thoroughly gripping read through all 18 chapters . Every chapter has left me wanting to find out what happens next . Each chapter has had me wanting to be Bradley just a little bit more than the one before . I honestly think in his position with the right influence I could take the same path , you make the possibility of this sound realistic and desirable.
Thanks for this story Giles, I just binge-read all 18 chapters in just a few days, very gripping story. I don't think I like the women much in this world though, with how they treat the Chastes as disposable. But I do understand how, as much as Brad was desperate to have his chastity cage removed, once it was removed, he didn't know what to do with himself, it's like he wasn't his true self anymore.