12 Labors of Hercules, Caged Pt. 08

Skye observed with a twinge of jealousy the perfect harmony of that loving couple, consisting of a Blonde and a Latina, and for a moment wondered why she could not maintain a stable relationship longer than a month. But before her mind wandered into the labyrinths of devotion and self-pity, her eyes fell on Richard's gaze. He was staring at Skye's ankle as if it were the most precious masterpiece of classical art.

Skye decided to indulge his desires, well aware that this would also increase her frustration. She decided to add a dash of mischief to this game.

She had never tried it, but sooner or later it had to be started. She turned directly to his wife.

"Miss Cathy, madame... if I may ask a question..."

"Of course dear Miss Skye, you can always ask..."

"I was wondering if I am allowed to obtain the digit code to release the cage."

Richard widened his eyes and thought, "It was like a dream come true! Me, with my dick free, on a plane at ten thousand feet, together with four nearly naked young women! OMG... please, goddess Cathy, please... say yes, I beg you..." But her lips remained sealed. He knew Cathy didn't want to hear pleas... unless she asked for them. He had to wait in silence.

Cathy held her breath.

The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to let a few minutes pass.

She should not, under any circumstances, respond impulsively.

Haste is always a bad counselor in any human activity, but it is especially pernicious when it comes to bondage over the phone with people you still know little about.

At last, Cathy was able to breathe, and along with the inhalation of oxygen, she also received from the air the inspiration for the answer.

"No, Miss Skye. Thank you for the kind question, which provides us with an example for upcoming occasions, and I imagine there will be many in the month. And please share with dear Dr. Brown, even if she is now asleep: teach her that this will be the right way for you to ask me.

It must happen suddenly when you are in the mood.

This way you will keep him in a state of perpetual suspense because if your question comes suddenly, he could be waiting for you at any time and in any situation.

I do not want my husband to try to calculate how to «earn» his freedom.

I know that in many stories and films, the caged man has to perform certain Epic Labors, like Hercules, to gain his release. not always heroic: sometimes dozens of facesitting is required, or serving as a waiter at the table, or withstanding a hundred lashes. Sometimes it is simply being bored for three weeks, wearing a cage and an anal plug. I have read many of these stories: in the end, it almost sounds like a supermarket coupon collection.

But in that way, the Keyholder loses power.

Worse still are those captions, in which it appears that a keyholder is obliged to release him after two weeks or after two months. So, the Keyholder herself ceases to be free, and she too becomes a slave to the calendar.

Moreover, he would lose stimulus, because, knowing that the first release will be in the New Year, he would spend the whole autumn in complete resignation."

"My answer, right now, is no. Maybe in a few minutes, I will change my mind... and he must remain tense, hoping that will happen. But none of the good things he has done will be worthy of obliging me-neither that he has been sincere about Kevin, nor that he has closed the cage right away, nor that he has made Teresa enjoy him.

Now, and for now only, my answer is no, precisely because I love him and wish only the best for him. "

Skye stared into Richard's eyes. His frustration had been multiplied a hundredfold by that brief dialogue. Before Skye had asked for his freedom, and before Cathy had denied it, he had been calm, almost resigned.

When Skye had asked that question, Richard had been hopeful, and now knowing that he would be frustrated again caused him the strongest emotion.

Richard thought that Skye was perhaps the reincarnation of Eris, the goddess of discord: a very important deity because from Chaos came Invention, while from order came only reiteration and tradition of the past. Without Eris, mankind would only know the missionary position and the kiss on the cheek.

But that learned thought was not enough to combat the frustration: he was so aroused at that moment that he blushed.

Seeing the frustration on Richard's face was like drinking an aphrodisiac for Skye. Continuing to stare into his eyes, she said to Barbara: " Most kind Dr. Bach, would you mind grabbing my slave with your hands on his temples, and forcing him to watch me disrobe myself in front of him?"

Barbara's hands snapped to encircle his forehead. Richard actually didn't want to move, but being 'forced' to watch made the situation that much hotter.

Skye stood up. She was the tallest, and the heels emphasized this detail. She was already topless: myriads of freckles covered her shoulders and breasts, down to her nipples, although her tits had lighter, less reddish skin.

Without removing her shoes, she turned, leaned forward, and lowered her wide green trousers, showing Richard the thin lace thong that parted her firm buttocks.

Cathy had told the girls that she preferred the most fluttery lingerie for herself, whereas Skye preferred to wear very tight, tight lingerie. This green thong was tiny, and at the back, it didn't even cover the anus: but it showed a light pink ring just waiting to be kissed.

"Kiss my ass, literally, slave Dicky... let me feel how much you want me."

Struggling against the grip of Barbara's hands, Richard stretched his neck forward to lick Skye's anus. His outstretched tongue only managed to reach it for a moment, then she evaded it by stepping forward. She had managed to remove her trousers without undoing her shoes at the ankles.

Skye turned around. Barbara let out a "Wow!" of sincere approval, and Teresa, though half-asleep, also let out a groan of compliment.

The young Scotswoman was wearing a crotchless thong: the outer lines framed the tuft of reddish hair, but the fabric was missing. It looked more like a frame than a panty, or a frame around a painting. And that sight made Richard flinch.

Lifting her heels from the dress lying on the floor, Skye walked two steps toward him. With her hands on her hips, she flaunted her red pussy in front of Richard's eyes and then told him, "Until I say 'enough', I want you to eat my pussy, slave... I want you to repeat over and over again that you are my slave.

It will not be an eternal condition: you heard what Miss Cathy said, she could decide to give you a release at any time. But, until Miss Cathy intervenes, you will have to keep eating pussy, even if the plane had already landed in Athens! And you better pray your wife stays awake and connected to the camera, because if she falls asleep... Ha, ha!"

Richard saw the tight little hole in the middle of her buttocks, framed by two thin laces. It was not dark, but pink like a dimple on the cheek of an infant who had sucked too much milk and fallen asleep happily.

Without thinking, Richard whispered, "What an «Ass Hole»..."

Skye immediately understood the joke but pretended to have heard a serious insult and squinted her green eyes. Trying not to laugh, she recited melodramatically: "Oh, you, an impudent slave without dignity, You dare call your lesser goddess, an asshole?!"

Richard closed his eyes as if to pray to an outraged deity "No, Miss Skye, I beg to be allowed to lick your pink rosebud, please allow me at least to choose... which side... to begin with... aaah..."

Motionless as a statue, raising her chin Skye looked skyward (i.e. towards the ceiling of the plane), assuming a hieratic pose: and in a voice fit for a Greek theatre where they had staged Antigone, she declaimed, "O tempora, o mores! Mala currunt...'.

Then, she turned, bent her knees and slowly lowered her buttocks to Richard's face. Laughing, Skye said to him, "Be careful what you wish for, Dicky....

You have a big mouth, though sometimes it's a delicious mouth....

But you talk too much.

You must learn to use your tongue in a more useful way.

Because of your wrong decision, instead of tasting my pussy, you will have to start with the rosebud.

I am a generous woman and I allow you to run your tongue down to the labia, if you can, from down there... but concentrate on my secret rosebud, back there."

Richard licked energetically as he gazed at the gorgeous cascade of red hair, and the line down the middle of her back that crossed a blooming field of freckles.

Skye emitted faint moans.

"... Now, while you worship my rosebud, I'm looking at your helpless balls... ooh! groan... Blame it on your big mouth, if you are now forced to serve me with your tongue, Dicky....

It was your idea... aah!... moan...

and now I have two hands and ten fingers, ready to torment you if the rhythm of your tongue slows down.... uuh!...

I bet this is going to be a long journey to Athens, ha, ha!"

Before Skye even let her fingers dance over his exposed and helpless balls, the mere thought swept over him like a tidal wave against the sea rocks.

To see her back and buttocks, to taste her, and to hear her moans: it was too much.

A single, large drop of precum sprouted from the tip of his cock.

Skye exulted but missed no opportunity to scold him: 'Wow, Dicky... a big drop, but how gross! You're not really asking for one of us girls to be forced to lick your jizz! Barbara, please... wipe off with a paper towel this naughty messy little swine..."

Richard moaned, trying to say something, but Skye pushed her pelvis against his mouth stifling any kind of rebellion.

Barbara assumed a thoughtful look, "In your opinion, do you think our Dicky is the kind of man who swallows his own sperm?"

Richard bellowed.

"I don't know, but he's so good with his tongue... now I understand why Teresa enjoyed it so much... Aaah... I don't know if he swallows, but I do know that I wouldn't get up now for anything in the world, not even if they gifted me the whole Lidian territory, as Sappho wrote..."

Richard strained to reach her labia with the tip of his tongue.

Skye involuntarily leaned forward. Then she rubbed the red bush of her pussy on his nose, drowning him in her smell.

Richard had to make an effort with his neck to position his lips on her clitoris and suck it hard. It bothered some women, but Skye liked it, at least judging by the increasingly loud moans.

Barbara thought: "We're in no hurry. It's just a drop of precum. We've got a whole month to fiddle with his cock, show him all sorts of little shows, force him to listen to our loud orgasms and our heeled pacing gait in the hallway.... and order him to lick nipples and clits..." and she threw the paper handkerchief in the trash.

"We may also command him to judge (handcuffed) like Paris a parade among the most beautiful goddesses, and oblige him to elect which one to vote for, forcing the others to punish him... hehe...

... it will be a dream month in Greece..."