12 Labors of Hercules, Caged Pt. 06

This fantasy triggered a sudden shiver down her spine.

Smell. Breathe. Smell.

Richard had leaned over the bed, close to her bandaged face. Breathe. It is him. Cathy could have recognized her husband anywhere.

Taste. Cathy felt on her half-closed lips the pressure of a large snake. Without hesitation, she wrapped the tip of that snake with her darting tongue, and from the center, she caught a small viscous drop... Cathy picked up her tongue and swallowed voraciously, and had confirmation of the identity of her unknown visitor.

She arched her back, as far as possible given the position of her spread thighs. She emitted a moan, but not a word.

Cathy felt Richard next to her body, and a kneecap of him resting on her bound shoulder. A warm, heavy snake was resting on her neck.

Cathy wondered if her husband wanted a trivial blowjob, in such an extraordinary situation. But she felt a duty to obey: she had written, any desire until midnight, and she wanted to please him. Barely moving her chin and tongue, she tried to catch that snake.

She licked her husband's cock, lingered long on the frenulum, kissed the head, dueled with her tongue against the mighty shaft, well aware that she would be defeated.

Richard moved slightly higher, and without him saying anything to her, Cathy took a testicle in his mouth, sucking in the most intense tea bag she had ever seen. For symmetry, he offered her the other as well, and she continued her work with renewed vigor.

Her husband pulled away for a moment. Cathy took the opportunity to gasp for breath. But he wanted to cum as soon as possible, and he began to fuck her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

She understood what Richard wanted to do: a first-round followed by a second round. Up to that point, she had felt like a fool, for offering herself like that and inspiring in him only the desire for a blowjob. But, noticing that he was striving to come right away, Cathy realized that the plan was to take advantage of the hours.

The consequence would be, that the vibrator would continue its journey swirling at a slow pace in her pussy. Also to hasten her release, Cathy intensified her efforts.

After a few moments of moaning and sobbing, Richard let out a scream of pleasure. Sgurgle, cumming invaded Cathy's mouth, who hurriedly swallowed it all, even as he bolted to her mouth to kiss her and invade her with his tongue.

After his orgasm, Richard slumped down on the bed beside her. They both lay still, as if frozen, he from cumming, she from the shackles and the weight of his head on her shoulder.

Two caring fingers gently removed the earpiece from one of Cathy's ears.

She heard her husband's very calm voice. "Here is a Damsel in Distress, waiting for her Hero. Now answer only with a Safeword. Now I want to gag you, and maybe whip you. Say Brazil, if you will."

Cathy shouted "Ireland!" releasing herself from a burden. Green light.

Richard took a scrap of briefs dangling above her pussy, curled it up, and put it in her mouth. It was unbound, and she could have to spit it out at any time, but he was sure she would hold it back to the last.

Immediately she felt his arm being pulled toward the headboard--Richard buckled the manacle tightly tied to the bedpost. At that point, Cathy was bound, motionless, with her pussy wide open and a panty in her mouth.

Richard walked down to her tits and sucked them hard. At times it seemed as if he took almost half of them inside his mouth. Then he licked and sucked the nipples, stroking the clitoris only sporadically.

He descended to the pussy, continuing to kiss and lick every region of her body. A quick lick to her clitoris and then down to her feet, licking the visible skin beyond the ankle strap, and her toes.

With one hand he stroked her pussy, accentuating the pressure of the vibrator.

Slowly he walked back up to his target and removed the vibrator from her pussy. The anal plug remained where it was.

At that moment the drooling monster appeared. It had risen from the depths of the sea (i.e., the living room), had climbed the stairs despite the high tide, and was now about to eat its prey. Dragon, or sea serpent (Draco, in Latin). Each painter portrayed it differently, only one detail was always present: a very long tongue, highlighted by the color red. Often the tongue was forked. In fairy tales and myths, it means double duplication: the monster had two weapons to use against Andromeda: the tongue and the cock.

Cathy was Andromeda: the paintings agreed. The face was portrayed in the different stages of orgasm: the scream, the ecstasy, the fainting, and the rest afterward. Some painters portrayed her dry, on dry land, but others portrayed her wet from the sea, not only in her pussy but also on her hair and chest skin.

Due to the effect of the self-bondage and the vibrator, which emphasized her voluntary submission, Cathy was aroused and wet.

Meanwhile, Richard was piecing together the overall puzzle.

There was no hero here, preventing the slobbery monster from eating Andromeda: or at least, some part of her, e.g., her tits and pussy.

Richard, at last, was free of the cage, but his first thought was to get his wife aroused: and he knew well that a sloppy pussy eating would work.

With his hands (free, at last!) he titillated her clitoris and the outer walls of her pussy. Then he introduced a single finger, but only a few phalanges. Her moans were muffled by the gag. Spreading her with his hands Richard introduced his tongue halfway, swirling in every direction. In college they were told to write the whole alphabet with their tongues--he wrote her Latin alphabet, Greek alphabet (upper and lower case), and even some Egyptian hieroglyphics.

Cathy could not defend herself from his assaults, tied spread eagle. Her body began to pant, revealing the approach of orgasm. But the monster was in no hurry.

Richard moved away from her pussy. He began to lick the soles of her feet again (for what little he could through the laces of her thin shoes). She kept moaning, and if she could have uttered words of meaning, she would have.

Instead, she could only moan "a'kmeow," like a cat in heat.

"Are you a little kitten, or are you a follower of the goddess Venus, who turned you into a cat? Aesop, I suppose..."

She did not answer anything. Probably the voice was too soft, or the music too loud.

The music stopped. Cathy felt her husband's fingers insert the earpiece into her ear. He reached for the device and started another piece of music.

From the first notes, Cathy quivered violently. The song was "The Ride of Valkyries": a repetition of countless performances without interruption.

It was a tune that always gave her goosebumps.

Richard knew this and had obtained for her this collection that continued for over an hour.

He needed a few minutes to recover. But the tension of those weeks, the smell of her hot pussy, and seeing her tied to the bed for him brought his erection back very soon.

Not to rush things, Richard kept licking the pussy and then moving away down her thigh to her foot, then back to the pussy. With his fingers he gently stroked her clitoris forcing Cathy to arch her back more and more to be able to stay in contact...she was desperately fighting the restraints she had imposed on herself.

When Richard realized that his erection might be sufficient, he began to fuck his wife without any regard. He had not removed the anal plug, so with each stroke, she felt as if she had been penetrated by two men, both in front and behind.

Rhythm. As in music. Rhythm -- a Greek word -- is the key to orgasm: the pace is more important than speed. Richard had cum on purpose, just minutes before, to be able to give his wife a slow, rhythmic orgasm.

The walls of her pussy welcomed his cock with a vigorous, tight embrace. He wasted no time searching for convincing words: the Valkyries' ride was enough to create endless excitement in her.

She groaned under his strokes, and he had involuntarily begun to grunt. Perhaps women can fake orgasms, he surely cannot: there were sounds he emitted completely involuntarily.

She noticed that his body had returned to the tension of orgasm and became even more aroused. Before Cathy's eyes, all the images of those days reappeared: the four coeds, the barbecue, his submission, the cage, her constant tricks to tease him, and his frustration.

Suddenly Cathy succumbed to orgasm like a wave of the high tide. She contracted her vagina screaming, arching her back as much as possible.

Richard was not ready yet. She did nothing to stop him. With a gesture of her own, she could have communicated to him to get out of the pussy and jack off with her hand, but Cathy decided to accommodate his strokes still as long as it would take.

After a time that might have been two seconds or two minutes or ten, Cathy felt the jet of hot jizz hit the walls of her pussy, and Richard's scream of triumph-her Richard, her beloved Richard.

Cathy closed her eyes. She knew well the smile that lit up her husband's face after he had cum inside her pussy. Only then did Cathy understand that he had shown no anger, no resentment: he had not whipped her, had not tortured her, had not even bitten her nipples. Had she not been so tired, she would have rejoiced. Instead, even this discovery helped make her more relaxed and closer to sleep... The god of Dreams, Morpheus, had welcomed her into his strong arms...

Cathy fell asleep.

Still handcuffed in the most uncomfortable position possible, and despite the Valkyries (or perhaps, just cradled like a lullaby amid the storm), Cathy fell asleep.

Perhaps, before falling asleep, she had time to whisper to Richard, "I trust you, close the cage at midnight." At least, that's what he told her at breakfast, and reasonably likely that was what she thought she was saying, between mumbles and grunts.

Richard, however, felt bound to close the cage by midnight, because that was what it said in the note.

For a few minutes, he remained motionless. All his energy had been focused on cumming, and now he was completely exhausted. He was breathing heavily.

Then Richard went up to her mouth to kiss her and talk about how much he loved her, but he found her almost asleep. He gently removed the thong she had been holding in her mouth to obey him, and perhaps she told him "I trust you...cage...by midnight," or perhaps fewer syllables and more humming...We don't know exactly what she said to him.

We do know what he did. Richard unfastened the buckles of the manacles, freeing her wrists: and immediately Cathy curled up like a kitten or squirrel, even though her ankles were still bound.

Richard freed her right ankle, but before his wife closed her body like a pangolin, he bent over her pussy and ate all her cum. He did not have to, she was asleep, and he had no obligation to do so: there was no witness, no motive. Richard determined that he probably did it because he liked doing it. And, in general, because Cathy had ordered him to do it as a general rule, and so he felt the need to obey her even if she was asleep at the time.

Under his mouth, her pussy was hot and sweet, and he felt in heaven. Next, he also freed her second ankle, wrapped her in a silk robe (so she would not wake up naked), and hugged her like a Big Spoon.

His cock, still free, pointed against her skin, like a stubborn child who had tried to go to the zoo to see the beaver one more time. Her brain could not fall asleep.

Richard got up. He could have stayed free all night, and awaited new orders in the morning. He could have stayed free forever, renegotiated everything, broken his chains, rebelled: the ancient writers posited so many rebellions, Zeus against Chronos, Spartacus against the slavers...

But Richard chose to take his chastity cage, and put it on right away, even though it was still some time before midnight. Then he returned to the bed beside his sleeping wife.

At the beginning of this journey into the chastity lifestyle, Richard believed that his wife was animated by a vengeful will: like Queen Juno, devoted to punishing the treachery of her husband King Zeus by subjecting her illegitimate son Hercules to numerous Labors. He believed that his wife's message meant, from now on you will stop being the almighty and untouchable Zeus, and become the persecuted Hercules, and you will have to endure countless teases and demands of all kinds, without ever getting get to return to your former normal life.

But.

That night, after receiving his second release in two consecutive days, Richard guessed that his wife was Andromeda.

The Greek name, translated into the Native American language, sounded like "The Woman Who Commands Men." And that was exactly what was happening. There were differences from the myth.

The Andromeda of the original myth was a princess, the daughter of an African king, probably dark-skinned even though some mythographers had misinterpreted the notion that from a distance she might "look like marble": as an expert in Greek culture, Richard knew well that ancient sculptors painted statues, and that they all appeared white only centuries later in archaeological excavations. And then, literally, that myth meant that they "looked petrified" like sea rocks washed by the tide: and rocks are often as black as slate.

Hey Cathy, being Italian by birth, had very dark hair and tanned skin.

She used to sunbathe by her pool naked, wearing only sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, of the kind the ancient Greeks used to protect their skulls from excessive sun.

In those ten days, Cathy had often commanded him to glaze the protective cream on every part of her beautiful body, forcing him to breathe in her scent and touch every part of her body despite the caged cock.

First her golden shoulders and delicious back, her firm ass, the crack in the middle of her buttocks, her thighs that she spread apart to allow him to spread the cream but mostly to make him suffer. Then she would turn around and order him to smear her tits, her stone-hard nipples, her tummy, and her pussy, on which a thin tuft of dark hair stood out. Sometimes she commanded him to watch and not touch, laughing at his frustration, other times she commanded him to kneel and eat her pussy with his mouth, not stopping until it was full of saliva and humor.

Richard understood that in Cathy's narrative, he had never been all-powerful Zeus, nor was he a young Hercules to be persecuted. He was the underwater monster, with his slobbery mouth and darting tongue, and his chained cock.

Like Prometheus chained, like Odysseus bound to the Mast Tree, bound by his sailors so that he could hear the song of the Sirens, and allow them to tease him with words, with the fleeting touch of their moist hands, with brief displays of nipples and lips and eyes and hair wet with water and sweat.

Ulysses too exhibited his Mast Tree full erect, because he was not caged, only bound. Who knows if any of those beautiful mermaids had licked the mast flaunted by Ulysses for a brief moment, who knows if anyone had taken it in their mouth and sucked on it...

Chapter 17 - the dream: Ulysses and the Sirens (short chapter).

Richard fell asleep. He dreamed that he was Ulysses, naked and bound. Strong ropes bound his arms and chest to the largest mast ever seen on a sailing vessel sailing the seas.

In his position, he could see everything, but he could not move.

A blond mermaid, with a tattoo of purple seaweed over her heart, swimming far away put a spell on him, making his cock get very hard. Another mermaid, sitting on top of a rock, kept her arms folded preventing him from seeing her tits, and looked at him with a proud frown: she was Ethiopian, but she was not Andromeda, and she was not chained. A tanner mermaid, with a distinct tan mark around pierced tits, stroked his frenulum with a finger, laughing.

Then, another mermaid with red hair and freckle-filled shoulders rose from the water, scolding the pierced mermaid and taking her hand, to dive into the water with her.

He (Richard, Ulysses) was left with an erect cock and no chance to enjoy it...

Ulysses continued struggling uselessly, giving strokes against the air in the height of frustration... Suddenly the blond mermaid opened the curtain: aboard the ship surrounded by mermaids, there was another person with him: it was Andromeda, with dark hair and sun-tanned skin.

Two wide metal manacles, joined by heavy rings, joined her elbows behind her back.

Two more manacles tied her elbows to her ankles.

She was completely naked, and as she advanced toward him, she flaunted her pussy forward without any shame. The blond mermaid flaunted a mocking smile and suggested that she spread her knees apart: Andromeda smugly executed, advancing toward Ulysses with her thighs obscenely apart, and the arch of her bare foot outstretched.

Drops of precum appeared on the tip of Ulysses' cock as Andromeda came to touch it with the tip of her tongue. One more step forward, then another, and her mouth had already enveloped his entire cock, only to pull away from it and start from the balls again, bending her neck like an acrobat.

Looking down at him, with pleading eyes, Andromeda said, "Do you want to come in my mouth, honey, do you want me to swallow all the cum... for you?"

"How could I succeed, my cock is caged, it's impossible," Richard said.

"You think you have been bound by me, but instead I am bound to you forever. I love you and will always love you. I will be -- forever -- chained to you. And now, come in my mouth, my love, show all these girls how much you love me..."

At those words, Ulysses emitted a violent cumshot, which Andromeda managed to swallow only with great effort.

Meanwhile, Richard woke up. He did not understand how, but the cock had cum while he slept, and he dreamed that the tight grip of the cage was the warm, moist mouth of his wife, Cathy.