For Pete's Place Pt. 03

I briefly considered hiding the fact. Saying nothing to Pete, showing him only what needed to see. I already knew I could get relief with the thing on, in fact I could get more with it in. But it was so frustrating when I wasn't trying to get off. And having my manhood caged was a hit my masculinity simply couldn't take.

So I decided to swallow my pride and resolved to ask Pete for the key again. But first thing in the morning. My post-nut drowsiness was starting to take hold, and Pete would still be there in the morning. And sleeping in the matter wouldn't hurt anything either.

But I woke up at my usual late hour to find Pete gone. A surprise business trip, he expected to be home later that day, or he would have woken me up and demanded payment. Except, he didn't make it home that day. Or the following day either. Whatever it was, it was apparently very important, and very broken.

Pete finally returned after two days, so stressed and exhausted, he called me to him as soon as the door closed behind him and made me suck his cock right there in the foyer. I did as he demanded, but when I went to speak to him afterword, he was on his way back to his room for a shower and a nap. I would have rummaged through his stuff for the key while he showered, if I hadn't already done that while he was gone.

Instead, I went about my day. I even found the time to masturbate again, not that that was a difficult task. Honestly, I kind of forgot about the whole thing, I just got so distracted entertaining myself and had gotten used to having it on anyway before Pete removed it in the first place. The only reason I really wanted it off so bad was because Pete was finally home to remove it. But I could live with it for a little while if I had to.

Pete finally woke up and walked into the living room where I was watching old cowboy movies. At first, it slipped my mind, just a regular day with Pete. It was half an hour after he sat down before I remembered I wanted to talk to him so badly about something.

"Oh, I meant to ask before you passed out," I said suddenly. Pete jolted slightly at the interjection. "You still have the key to the cage, don't you?"

"Yea, of course I do," he replied dryly. "Why do you ask?" I thought I saw him fight down a slight smirk, but I wasn't sure. It would be uncharacteristic of him not to figure it out though. I think the bastard just wanted to hear me say it.

"I need it," I said simply. Pete looked slightly disappointed, or I thought he did. I offered no further explanation.

"Well, I'll be happy to unlock it for you," Pete said, matching my apparently disinterested tone. "Just go get it for me and I'll get the key out."

"Or you could give me the key and I could just do it myself," I said hopefully. There was no way he would go for it, but I had to try. I'd been more successful with less effort than that in the past, but then, that mindset had also gotten me into this mess in the first place.

"No, it's my key," Pete replied. "I'll be holding on to it. The lock and cage are yours, but the key is mine." As if to punctuate the point, he pulled out his key ring and sure enough, there was the cage key right next to his house key. What a sick bastard.

I opened my mouth to try one more argument, but the words died in my mouth. I knew this was what was going to happen, I couldn't realistically be mad that it had. I was still a little frustrated that Pete was like this at all, but him being like this had also literally saved my life so that was also difficult to hold in my mind.

"Fine," I said, standing up. "Whatever, just help me get this thing off." I pulled my pants and boxers down far enough to reveal the cage and presented myself, waiting for Pete to unlock the little device.

"Oh, that changes things," Pete said. His tone was all apologies, but his face was plastered with that awful grin of his. "See, I can open the lock when it's not on anything, but if you want the cage removed, I'm going to have to charge you."

My jaw dropped. "You can't be serious, I already paid you today," I said indignantly.

"Well, you can always leave, and I'll take it off for free," Pete reminded me. I burned at the statement, knowing I couldn't afford to go anywhere else. "But while you're here, if you want me to take the face off, I'm going to have to charge you for it. Separate from the regular rent of course."

I stood silently for a second or two, grinding my teeth, before answering, "Ok, fine." I started to sink to my knees, but Pete stopped me.

"Oh no," Pete said, "I think we'll be upping the fee for this. It's overdue anyway." I wasn't sure, or rather I didn't want to be sure, what he meant, so I stood frozen as Pete stood up. "Come on," he said, walking off, "We've got to get some stuff before we do this."

I swallowed my pride again and followed him. I might have been worried at how easily I accepted whenever he gave me orders I hated so much, but I didn't have much choice to say no. He had me by the balls, almost literally given current circumstances.

By the time I had gotten to my room, Pete was already rummaging through my bedside table. He pulled out the lube and commanded, "Strip. From the waist down at least." He pulled his cock out and dripped some lube onto it, coating his impressive member in the slippery substance.

I obediently disrobed. Pete motioned for me to get up on the bed and I obeyed. I was on all fours, and Pete crawled up behind me. With his dry hand, he grabbed my hip, and with the other, he guided his cock toward my vulnerable hole. I took a couple breaths, trying to tell myself it would be just like the dildo I used to masturbate.

But it was not. For one, Pete's cock was noticeably bigger than the dildo. It's natural heat and texture was also different from the room-temperature plastic toy I played with. Still, the feeling of my ass being penetrated was familiar in its own way, and a quiet moan escaped my lips as my shoulders and face dropped to the sheets.

I don't know why, but I imagine Pete smiled at that. I would have preferred he not notice, but I can't help but feel like he smiled at that, his cruel grin looking down on me even if I couldn't see it. Pete pushed balls deep into me, then slowly slid back out. Just before he pulled out entirely, he reversed and pushed back in again. Then he pulled all the way back out again.

I glanced back and was able to see Pete pouring out more of the lube, presumably on his cock. He put the lube down, then looked up at me. He smiled for a second, then took my hip in his hand again and lined his cock up. And that was the end of any gentleness I may have been hoping for.

As soon as he was perfectly lined up, Pete impaled me as if with a spear, going fully balls deep in a half-second. He was back out immediately, then pressed into me again. Fully in, then fully out, back and forth. He did this for at least a minute, and I couldn't help moaning every time my asshole opened up to accept his slick girth.

Eventually, he settled into fucking me, not pulling all the way out anymore. To my surprise, either by coincidence or skill, Pete fucked my ass at nearly the tempo I used for the dildo. I was able to close my eyes and pretend that's exactly what it was. Just the dildo, or rather a new dildo, that I was masturbating with. Not another man fucking my ass.

I did my best to ignore Pete's hands on my hips, of the way I could feel his balls lurch forward and slap against my body. when he thrust into me. I made a decision to try to help myself and reached a hand back. I pressed against the skin of my taint, stimulating my prostate from the outside as Pete expertly pounded against it from the inside. To contain my moans, I bit my lip almost hard enough to bleed.

I lost myself in the pleasure. It was odd to actually enjoy paying Pete at all, but I was still having the mind-melting pleasure, so luckily I didn't have to think much about it. After a while, I instinctively reached for the bedside table and pulled out the vibrator. As soon as it was out of the drawer, Pete flipped my whole world upside down.

Almost literally too. He pulled out and gave my hips a shove that rolled me onto my side and then further to my back. Pete lined back up below me and grabbed my legs, hoisting them up and getting my knees over his shoulders. He lined his cock up again and shoved it into me. Then he reached down and gabbed the vibrator right out of my hand. He pressed it against my prostate and my eyes rolled.

I don't know if Pete smiled at that either, but he certainly took it as an invitation to start fucking again. From this position, Pete could pound my ass, hitting my prostate from the inside, use the vibrator to buzz my prostate from the outside, and all the while look down at me as I lost any ability to comprehend anything.

I genuinely have no idea how long we were like that. Before I knew it, I felt the tension building. I wasn't doing anything to add to it, so I had no idea what to do, I doubt I would have had any ideas even with a clear mind. And then, in a glorious fountain, I came. My cum erupted out of the little cage on my cock, and it splattered all over my body and face.

But Pete didn't stop. I wasn't masturbating, Pete was fucking me. And Pete wasn't done yet. I felt the tension build up impossibly quickly again, and my second orgasm flew out over my body, weaker than the first in ejaculation, but much more powerful in sensation. The tension stayed strong, and I felt I was going to release a third time when Pete suddenly stopped.

I recognized some of the tell tale signs, although the position gave them a new context. He pressed balls deep into my ass, and his cock twitched slightly with each spurt. The warm goo filled my insides, giving me another new sensation that I had no comparison for. There wasn't much of the stuff, but I could still feel it inside me. I swear, I felt it slosh around inside me when Pete finally pulled out and dropped me. As I lay there trying to recover, he pulled the key back out of his pocket and reached down to unlock the little cage.

And then he was gone. Lube and Pete's cum leaked out of my ass, my own cum lay splattered all over my shirt and face. The cage was held together by the opened lock. And Pete walked out of the room like he was walking out of a completed business meeting. Which I suppose, technically he was. I reached down and removed the cage, setting it aside on my bedside table.

In the following months, Pete slowly integrated anal sex into our regular routine. Once per day, Pete would demand either oral or anal sex. Occasionally, he would make demands about my wardrobe while performing, including panties, skirts, and occasionally even butt plugs when not using my asshole himself. He very rarely made demands about my wardrobe when not performing, but he liked seeing me around the house in women's clothes or knowing I was wearing them under my clothes.

That, and one other thing became more and more common. I would go several days without the cock cage. Then, in a fit of horny necessity, I would affix the thing to masturbate. I would wait a few days, depending on my frustration, and ask Pete to remove it. Pete demanded one additional session whenever I wanted the thing removed, which meant I was usually taking about 8 or 9 of his loads every week.

I knew I was walking a dangerous road for someone who didn't want to make the change over, but that was the price of Pete's hospitality. And I really didn't have any other options available.