First Test

M knew if he walked upstairs and saw Charlie cum on Brian's cock, it would push him over the edge and cause him to cum also, right then and there, in his cage. No -- that couldn't happen. It wouldn't. Was it because M was afraid what it would mean...or was it because Charlie hadn't given him permission?

M needed to calm the fuck down, and think about this...somehow. He walked to the downstairs bathroom, and shut the door behind him. He turned on the faucet, splashing his face with cold water. When he closed his eyes, he saw in his mind Charlie laying on that bed, her legs spread, Brian between them thrusting as Charlie gasped and moaned, begging him to fuck harder.

M opened his eyes and shook his head. He looked himself in the mirror, seeing an alien and unfamiliar face he barely recognized as his own. He said to himself, "stop...just stop. Get ahold of yourself," and he already knew his advice to himself would go ignored. He splashed more water on his face, and this time when he closed his eyes he saw Charlie being fucked doggy style, looking M straight in the eyes and taunting him he would never fuck her this good.

The cold, hard shock of anxiety and fear shook through his body again, and the waves of nausea and heartache returned. M hyperventilated, and for a moment it really did feel like M would throw up. But the feeling passed, and M took a handful of cold water to wash his mouth out, spitting the water into the sink.

M started to sit down on the toilet, to bury his face in his hands and try to think. He gasped when the cage pushed against his abdomen, forcing out what felt like a miniature ejaculation's worth of precum. It reminded him, once again, he had not cum in a week, and made him realize the tortuously full feeling just behind his bladder, multiplied by orders of magnitude in his current state of unfulfilled, intense, arousal.

With a halting breath, M opened the toilet lid, undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down around his ankles. There before his eyes, in a slimy, sticky, mess of precum, was the physical evidence his arousal wasn't all in his head. Nearly the entire front of his underwear was soaked through from his own lubrication; his cage and the sensitive skin underneath glistened. Thick ribbons of precum hung between his balls and the cage, and a slow drip of slimy fluid hung from the head of his cock.

M reflexively clenched his pelvic muscles, gasping at the volume of his emission without ever having cum, and thick gobbets of clear sexual fluid dripped out of him, landing in the toilet. He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, trying to make sense out of how his experiences possibly had this effect on him. He should be well down the road by now, away from this ridiculous McMansion, cursing himself for being so stupid to think someone like Charlie would be interested in him.

M grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and tried cleaning himself up. At least it was something to do, to take his mind off Charlie upstairs. Surely they were fucking by now, if they weren't already. Brian definitely looked the sort to not need much time between rounds, if Charlie went ahead and sucked his first load out of him. Even if he did need some time between rounds, he was probably holding her down to eat her pussy while she moaned and thrashed on the bed...

Another wave of intense anxiety and fear, followed by equally intense arousal. "No," M thought to himself, "this is insane. I can't be thinking about this." Yet, he was anyway. This was the most torturous thing M had ever experienced, emotionally or sexually. M was really beginning to like Charlie, too -- is this her fucked up, twisted, psychosexually dramatic way of rejecting him?

All M wanted was to cum, and cum hard. It would clear his head...maybe. He at least wouldn't be so damn turned on by this any more. All he had to do was just break the plastic lock and take the cage off...but she'd know.

Why did M even care what Charlie thought, at this point? She's upstairs fucking some dude. If she cared, she'd be upstairs fucking him instead...right? It's not like he'd cum almost instantly having gone without for a week, leaving her completely unsatisfied...

M wanted to scream, just to give voice to his frustration, shame, fear, hurt, arousal, and self-loathing in the moment. But he wouldn't, not here. Not at a damn party he wasn't even personally invited to. M took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm his nerves, and walked back to the living room and sit on the couch.

Almost as soon as he sat, he heard it. Thump...thump...unmistakably the sound of a bed bumping against a wall. M remembered the layout of the bedrooms upstairs, and realized the bedroom Charlie was in was directly above him. M looked around, and no one else seemed to hear, or if they did they were paying it no attention.

M didn't understand how; to him, it was the loudest sound in the room, above the din of laughter and conversation, above the soft music playing in the background. Charlie and Brian may as well be setting off mortars outside, that wrote "we're fucking upstairs!" plain as day in the air, for anyone to see. Maybe he was just hyperaware of the noise...or maybe it was in his head.

M occasionally piped into the conversation when prompted, and a few people asked him if he was feeling okay to which he replied, "yeah". But really, all M could hear was that thumping upstairs, speeding up and slowing down repeatedly over the course of what felt like hours. Despite himself, he tried listening for moans or orgasmic cries, giving him any clue as to what was going on upstairs.

What position were they in? Were they edging? How much was Charlie loving it? Were they using protection? Would she come downstairs with a creamy secret?

Finally, the thumping started becoming even louder and faster, and after a handful of slow, hard, thumps, it stopped. M still couldn't understand how the other partygoers couldn't hear it, or were ignoring it. Was it over? It had to be. How many times did Charlie cum?

By now, M just felt numb. He could no longer tell if he was angry, humiliated, hurt, horny, or just apathetic. He didn't even feel present in his own body. He wasn't sure if he even cared any more. He just wanted to get out of this situation and go home.

M caught a glimpse of Charlie coming into the room. She was still flushed, breathing a bit heavy, a thin sheen of sweat visible beneath her crop top. She wasn't smiling, but M looked down immediately to avoid her gaze. He couldn't bear to look her in the eyes right now.

She walked over and gave Vic a kiss on the cheek. M wanted to cry out, those lips had just been on another man's cock. She probably still had cum on her breath. But, all M could do was look away and sit, placidly.

"Sorry, Vic...I think I ate something that disagreed with me. I should probably get going," Charlie said. M thought to himself, Brian's cock sure seemed to agree with her at the time. Vic and Charlie exchanged a glance, which M could swear was a knowing glance, and he averted his eyes from Vic as well.

"Sorry to hear that," Vic said, "do you need anything before you go?"

"No, I took something already," M could swear a bit of a smile crept onto Vic's face at Charlie's reply. Or maybe he was just imagining things. "Oh, don't get up, we can see ourselves out," Charlie continued, gesturing at Vic.

Charlie looked at M, and said, "let's go". This time, no please; it was a direct order. Charlie must have figured her cover story was enough to slip it into conversation.

All M could muster, was a weak and defeated, "yeah". He stood, and Charlie said a brief goodbye before they were out the door and on the way back to M's car. M had nothing to say to her; nothing he could imagine saying to her right now. He was afraid to even begin, because he wasn't sure he could control himself if he started speaking now.

Charlie seemed to understand this, and her uncomfortable silence matched his as they got into the car. M had only driven a couple blocks, before Charlie pointed to a secluded side street in the subdivision, and said, "pull over here and park".

Wondering what could possibly be the issue now, M turned into the side street, slowed the car to a stop, and put it in park. Charlie tentatively reached out for the front of M's pants, watching him intently, apparently for any sign of violent or extreme reaction. M was just too exhausted and numb from the intense emotional whiplash of the evening to put up resistance, and watched her with blank, dull eyes.

Charlie unbuckled M's belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. She pushed them and his underwear down around his thighs, and took the plastic padlock in her hand. Checking the serial number, she broke the padlock and removed it from the cage. Finally, she gripped the cage as best she could with it being as slippery and slimy as it was, and slid it off his cock.

M watched with numb detachment as his cock bounced, limp, from the cage, resting on his balls. It was a reaction he would never have suspected, if he were more mentally and emotionally present; he would have sworn his cock would immediately spring to full hardness once released, but it didn't.

Charlie leaned over, moving the steering wheel upwards with one hand while lowering her head to his lap. He felt her hand cup his balls, her thumb and forefinger wrapping themselves around the base of his soft, exhausted, cock, holding it upwards. He felt hot breath on it, and Charlie's lips wrapped around the sensitive and slick skin of his cockhead.

M gasped and grunted, and came immediately. Charlie hadn't even taken his entire cock in her mouth. He wasn't even hard. He didn't even have enough control over his own body to try holding back.

His own orgasm after a week of buildup and denial wasn't even that satisfying. It was just a cold, empty, release; one final surrender to this woman who put him through seemingly endless mental and emotional anguish tonight. Charlie held M's flaccid cockhead in her mouth, swallowing down each spurt of built-up cum his defeated and numb body pumped into her. Making matters even more humiliating for M, was the knowledge this likely wasn't even the biggest -- or first -- load Charlie swallowed tonight.

Charlie continued sucking and swallowing for a few moments after M's last orgasmic contractions, taking the last few drops of his cum into her. She gave M's cock a last few licks, licking up the prodigious amount of precum he'd emitted, before sitting back up in her car seat.

Wiping her mouth, Charlie reached out with her other hand to touch M's jaw. She turned his head towards her, and looked him in the eyes as she said the words that could possibly salve M's battered and crushed ego.

"Good boy".