Chastity Curse: Surprise

Clark didn't expect to come home on his birthday to an empty, completely dark house. The sun was in the last stages of twilight as he pulled onto the driveway, and the house was cast in total shadow. None of the outside lights were on, not a single window was illuminated.

Clark felt a pang of panic for a moment, until he remembered what day it was. Had Cheryl planned something? Was this a surprise party? It still felt a bit ominous. Plus, there weren't any extra cars on the street. Surely, they wouldn't have all parked a block away just for something like this. In fact, when he peeked in the garage window, he didn't see Cheryl's car. She'd texted saying she might be home a bit late from work, but even still, he'd thought she'd be here by now. Hopefully she wouldn't be too much later, they were supposed to go out for a steak dinner.

He went through the front door cautiously, but the house alarm beeped its warning and he had to deactivate it. So, that was good, there hadn't been a break in or anything. He clicked on the light switch. Everything stayed dark. A few more tries, and nothing. Ah, okay, the power was out. None of the other houses looked affected, though, so something must have tripped the circuit breaker. He pulled out his phone and activated the flashlight function, heading for the basement.

As soon as he stepped into the living room, however, something reached out and smacked the phone out of his hand. "Hey!" He reached for it, only to be stopped by a slim hand pressing against his chest, halting his forward motion. The phone landed light-downwards, and a figure reached down and snatched it up, covering the light.

"Hey!" he repeated, but as he straightened up to snatch the phone back, a second figure came up behind him and pressed against his back. The figure slipped one arm around his chest, pinning his left arm in the process, while the other hand went up to his throat. A slim, cool piece of metal was suddenly pressing against his jugular. He knew at once it was a knife.

Clark froze. From the feel of the body against him, he knew it was a woman, which meant he was completely powerless. The effects of the Chastity Curse made it impossible for any man to physically act against a woman if she didn't give him permission. If a woman attacked him, the only thing he could do was try to block her strikes. But unless she allowed it, he could not so much as lightly push her away. She barely had to put any strength behind her hold, but thanks to the Curse, her arms may as well have been molded steel holding him in place.

She didn't really need the knife. As it was, it felt like she was using the blunt edge. But she wanted to be sure he knew she meant business.

The first figure turned the phone in her hands and turned off the flashlight app. From the glow of the screen, he could see she was a blonde, her hair tied back in a ponytail. However, her face was obscured by a black bandana tied bandit-style around the lower half of her face, and a pair of oversized sunglasses hiding her eyes.

The phone was tossed aside, and the room was covered in almost total darkness. Only the dim glow from streetlights filtered through the large bay window's partly open blinds. The blonde came up to him, her silhouette moving with the grace of a cat, until she was within touching distance. She reached out to let her fingertips caress his cheek and trail down his chest.

"Mmmm... looks like we picked the right house," she said in a low, sultry voice.

"I'll say," said the woman behind him huskily.

Clark swallowed. "Wh-wh-who are you? Wh-what do you want?"

"Don't need to know the latter, cutie," said the blonde. She reached down and brazenly pressed her hand against his crotch. "As for what we want... well, what else would two sexy ladies be doing in a man's house, while his wife is away?"

Her hand on him was surprisingly skilled. As she massaged his member through his slacks, he felt himself growing hard. Shamefully, despite the situation he was in, his body couldn't help but react.

No. No, that wasn't quite right. It was because of this very situation that he so easily reacted. He had always fantasized about being taken and used by women, long before the Chastity Curse made such things an easy possibility. Whenever he masturbated, he had always cum the hardest fantasizing about being raped. And when making love to his wife, it drove him wild when she got aggressive with him.

But now it was actually happening! Holy shit, it was actually happening! These two women had broken into his home and were about to rape him! And because the Chastity Curse had made all men throughout the world powerless against women, there was nothing he could do!

He felt fear shoot through him. And to his shame, he could not help but also feel arousal. He didn't want to cheat on his wife! But what could he do? They had a knife to his throat, he couldn't fight them off, and the blonde, her hand was...

"Oh, goodness..." she said. "Someone's eager." She squeezed him through his pants; he was rock hard and throbbing with less than a minute of stimulation. It wasn't just her skill. It wasn't even just the shameful excitement of this situation.

"So, how long since your bitch wife let you pop, hmmm?" said the blonde. She leaned in close, pressing herself against him, pressing her abdomen against his throbbing cock, and leaning up to his ear. "How long since the little shrew bitch got you poor little rocks off? A month? Two? Three?"

Clark let out a shuddering gasp. The knife pressed more firmly against his flesh. "Tell us," the woman behind him purred.

"S-s-six weeks!" he gasped. Cheryl had spent the past month and a half building up his blue balls. Thanks to the Chastity Curse, men couldn't cum unless a woman gave them permission. In the first few weeks since the Curse, his wife had dutifully given him permission all the time. But then, as the months wore on, the kinky couple had decided to have more fun with it. Now, despite still having sex at least four or five times a week, Cheryl had started only allowing him one orgasm a week. Then one every two weeks. They'd gone on that way for a while. But recently, she'd said she wanted to go longer, and Clark, enamored at her taking control, had eagerly agreed to it.

But it seemed such games were to be his undoing. Even if this scenario hadn't been his secret, shameful turn on, he was on a total hair trigger after six weeks of multiple teasings and almost daily sex without relief!

The blonde was slowly grinding herself against his crotch, and his cock flexed. Clark made a little gasp and jerked in their grip.

"Hmm... just six weeks without, and you look like you're about to pop, just from this?" The blonde chuckled.

The other woman laughed. "What a little bitch. No wonder your wife keeps it on lock."

"Well, she won't have to worry, we're sure as hell not gunna let you," said the blonde.

"Please don't—" Clark started, but the knife dug into his neck. If the woman hadn't been using the blunt side, he would have been cut already.

"Shut up," she growled. As she kept Clark pinned in place, the blonde began removing his clothes, starting with his pants. As soon as it was freed from its cloth prison, his cock sprang up eagerly, heedless to the gravity of the situation. Pre-cum was already starting to seep out. The blonde wrapped her delicate fingers around the shaft and pulled the bandana she wore aside for a moment to lick the first bead off the tip, causing Clark to shiver with shameful pleasure.

The brunette moved back so the blonde could strip off his shirt, but the knife was kept pressed to his neck, with her other hand against the back of his neck. He was still pinned. Then, when he was stripped down to his ankles, they ordered him to slip off his shoes so he could step out of the bundle of clothes, before removing his socks. Pinned in place by his neck, he had to use his feet to do it, which made the women chuckle as he awkwardly maneuvered in place, causing his cock to bounce.

"Upstairs," the blonde ordered, once he was fully nude. Each woman grabbed an arm and guided him towards the stairs. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see just enough to not run into anything. He also noticed the knife-wielding woman was a brunette, her hair likewise tied back in a ponytail, her face obscured by a similar bandana-and-sunglasses get up.

It was a bit of a ridiculous sight, really. He was bigger and stronger than either woman; just holding him like this, he should have easily been able to break their grip and escape, knife or no. Just a couple years ago, if it had come down to a fight, he could have easily disarmed the brunette and over powered both of them; he had some martial arts training on top of exercising regularly.

But thanks to the Curse, their hands on his wrists may as well have been iron manacles. He could have just rooted himself on the spot and held his ground, true. He couldn't push against their hands, but he could resist their pull if he just focused on staying in position. Both women could probably drag him together, but he could make them work for it.

Instead, he went along with them. The brunette still had the knife, after all. And to his shame, his cock was so hard it almost hurt!

When they reached the bedroom, they pushed him onto the bed. The dim light from the street through the translucent white drapes kept the women in deep shadow, but he could tell who was who from their voices.

"Spread eagle," said the brunette. Clark started to pull his arms towards his chest, but then, he felt the cool metal of the knife slip between his legs and press against his inner thigh, dangerously close to his testicles. He jerked back, but the brunette locked him in place with a hand to his leg. "Spread. Eagle."

Trembling, Clark spread his limbs. The blond quickly tied his wrists to the sides of the headboard, using cloth straps. The two women must have set this up ahead of time, as the straps were already secured to the bed. Then they tied down his ankles. And the whole time, his cock twitched and leaked precum.

"Oh my god, what fucking slut," said the brunette, reaching out to trace a fingertip along his throbbing cock. "Just look how wound up he is!" She wiped a drop of pre-cum from the tip, brought her finger under her mask and licked it. "Tasty, though."

"A great pick for sure," said the blonde, mirthfully. Then she produced a fifth strap. "No peeking now." She reached towards his face, and wrapped the strap around his eyes thrice to form a secure blindfold. "There, finally. Now I can take these fucking things off and actually see."

He heard a slight rustling some plastic clicks on the bedside tables. They'd removed their masks and sunglasses.

"Barely," said the brunette. "Did you have to kill all the power?"

"Yes," the blonde replied. "But now that we have him secured..." Clark could hear her open the bedside drawer and root through it. "Ah, here we go." There was a clicking sound. Clark didn't see a difference, of course, but from the sounds, he knew she'd turned on his emergency flashlight and set it on the table.

"Better than nothing," said the brunette. "Mmm, he looks even more delicious now!"

Trapped in total darkness, Clark had no idea what they were going to do next! His cock throbbed, his balls ached, and his heart thudded in his chest.

Suddenly, one of them slapped him on the balls, a hard, open-palm slap that transitioned into a tight clutching. "Ah!" he hollered.

"Listen up," said the blonde. "Right now, you're our meat. We're going to fuck you like a cheap dildo. You're not even a whore to us, you got that? You're a fucking object." She squeezed until he let out another shrill cry. "And if we aren't completely satisfied when we're done? We're going to throw you away like one."

The blonde pulled his balls away from his body, and he felt the edge of the knife press against the base. He panicked and tried to buck away, but their hands were irresistible shackles. All he did was yank his own balls uselessly. "NO! No no no no no!"

"Shut up!" said the brunette, pressing the blade harder. It was still the blunt edge, thankfully; they clearly didn't want to damage their toy too soon, but it still sent terror through his body. "Objects don't talk either!"

Clark clamped his jaw shut and only partially succeeded in suppressing a whimper.

"Better," said the brunette, pulling the knife away.

The blonde eased her grip, letting his balls relax in her hand. She gently massaged them, soothing the ache away. "Hmm... all that and you didn't shrink even an inch. In fact, you look even harder now!"

It was true. He was absolutely throbbing! Oh, god. What the fuck was wrong with him, that this turned him on so much?

"God, what a fucking masochist," said the brunette.

Despite what was just ordered of him, he had to make one last effort. "Please. Wait. My wife—" He stopped short as the edge of the blade was pressed against his lips like a cold, slim finger, shushing him with dangerous authority.

"Isn't here," said the blonde. "Right now, we're the only women you need to worry about." He felt her move onto the bed, sliding herself on top of him.

"And if you say one more fucking word," said the brunette, getting onto the bed and positioning herself over him as well. "You're wife's going to have to buy a strap on for you to make love to her again."

His cock jerked at their cruel words and the feeling of their hot flesh pressing against him. They gave him no time to prepare. The blonde straddled his hips and pressed herself against his cock. The brunette trapped his head between her thighs and lowered her sex to his mouth. Both women were already naked; they'd been naked the whole time, and they were already dripping wet.

Clark obeyed. Afraid, but aroused beyond comprehension, he lost himself to the women's control. He used his expert tongue to please the brunette, using the self-taught skills that had brought his wife to countless orgasms, especially in the last couple years. He suckled at her clit, rubbing it with light little licks to wind her up, then rubbing deeply with the flat of his tongue once his teasing flicks had properly sensitized her, then going back to the light stimulation just as he was building her up. Then he drove his tongue as deep as he could go. The brunette howled, and ground her hips against him in frustration as he kept switching off. He was juggling her pleasure; just as she was getting into one sensation, he would switch to throw her off, building her up bit by bit instead of rushing to the end.

At the same time, he tried to thrust his hips upwards to please the blonde, but soon gave up trying to find a good rhythm. With his limbs spread eagle, he didn't have much freedom or leverage. The blonde, meanwhile, rode his cock cowgirl-style, taking full control of their motions, rocking her hips in a way that absolutely thrilled him. She moved with a skill that both pleased herself and drove him wild. The best he could manage was to match the timing of his thrusts with hers to maximize the effectiveness of her movements.

He should have cum in less than a minute under this treatment. Bound, used, face ridden by one gorgeous woman, while another rode his cock with skilled abandon, all after six-weeks of blue balls, he should have shot off like a bottle rocket!

But such was the power of the Chastity Curse, which women around the world had learned to take full advantage of. No matter how much sex he had, no matter how good it was, he would never, ever achieve orgasm, unless the woman he was fucking gave him permission. Until then, he could do nothing but be hard, to ride that brain-melting edge of release, while these crazy women used him for their pleasure. Their releases were uninhibited. They could ride him until they came a hundred times each, while he wouldn't spill a single drop!

The blonde howled in pleasure as she couldn't hold back anymore, cumming hard as she pistoned steadily on his cock. The brunette clutched at his hair and growled at him to stop fucking around. Obediently, he stopped switching his techniques, and licked her deeply again until she, too, came mightily.

The two women paused their motions, catching their breath. Then they switched. The blonde ordered him to lick her, while the brunette took his cock, sitting on him in reverse-cowgirl. The two women leaned back against one another, clutching each other from behind as they ground their pussies against his helpless body.

They used him for what had to be three straight hours, switching off every time they both came. They even searched through the dresser drawers to find his wife's vibrators to add to the fun. Each used one on her clit as they rode his cock. They found a third and tied it so that it pressed against the base of his testicles, sending a maddening vibration through his organ, even as they continued to ride him.

Finally, just as the vibe strapped to him was running out of battery power, they stopped. After achieving at least two dozen orgasms each, the two women were spent. They lay in a sweaty, sticky mess on top of him, taking several minutes to catch their breaths and cool down.

Finally, one of them moved to grab something, and Clark, still addled from the constant edging and physical exhaustion, was given a jolt of new energy as the cool edge of the knife was trailed along the base of him.

"So," said the blonde. "What do you think? Should our meat keep his meat?"

"Mmmm... such a good toy would be a shame to throw away... but then again, it's not like we'll be using it again..."

"N-n-no..." he said breathlessly. "Please don't..."

The brunette laughed. "God, what a freak. We're talking about lopping it off, and he's still so fucking hard."

"Hmmmm, I'm betting his still quite on edge," said the blonde. The knife slid upwards, trailing the dull edge along his length. His cock jumped and jerked at even this callous stimulation; he'd been held at the edge by their relentless sex for so long, he was hypersensitive like he'd never been before!

Then the blonde paused the sliding of the knife and turned it so the flat was pressed against his sweet spot. She begun to rub it in little, quick jerks, a small, but steady, stimulation that, in his current state, was completely irresistible. His cock jumped and jerked under the unfeeling metal, trying to shoot his load.

"So pathetic. So helpless. So enslaved to your sick desires. You really do enjoy being used like this, don't you? The Chastity Curse was the best thing that could have happened to you, isn't it, meat?"

Clark whimpered, tears of frustration soaking into his blindfold.

"Answer me toy. You've always wanted this, haven't you?"

"Yes," he said in a small voice.

"Even when you fucked your wife, giving it to her like a big, burly alpha, you secretly always wished it was her fucking you."

"Yes!"

"And now that you can't do anything, can't fuck, can't, cum, can't even touch yourself without her permission, you're just as happy as can be, aren't you? Just so happy to be a little fuck toy."

"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! I just want to be used! Fucked! A piece of meat for her pleasure!"

The end of the knife rubbed faster, pressed harder, keeping him right on the screaming edge of release. He whined and writhed on the bed, but could not escape the stimulation.

"It shows. You were a good little toy today. Don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," said the brunette. "Very good."

"So you get to keep your meat," the blonde continued. "I'm sure you're wife is very pleased by it. So pleased, in fact, that if she were here right now, I think she would definitely let it cum."

The knife quickened. Clark's whole body tensed and his breath caught.

"So..." said the blonde in a near-whisper. She paused for a long moment to drag out the suspense. "...cum."