The Gods Play Dice Ch. 02

An eternity seemed to pass before the next weekend came around again.

Sitting at his desk at school, Thomas drummed his fingers absentmindedly against the surface. It was Friday, the last period of the day, and in another thirty minutes or so the bell was due to ring. Mrs. Parkins, their English teacher, droned on at the front of the class. Her chalk squeaked silently across the blackboard, and he tried to tune out the irritating sound it made. Somewhere in the back of the room, he could hear someone listening to music on their earbuds again.

Staring out the window, he suppressed a yawn. It was as if time had slowed to a crawl. Another half-hour before class let out, he thought miserably. And then after that, another two or three hours before it was time for his usual weekly unlocking. His chastity cage pressed up against his thighs, and he shifted in his seat as he tried to find a more comfortable position. Better to not think about it for now though, and just focus on the present.

Besides him, his best friend Jake leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Hey dude, look over to your right," he said.

"Why?" asked Thomas.

"Just trust me," said Jake, "You can thank me later."

Thomas sighed. Well, it wasn't as if he had anything else better to do. Turning around, he looked, and it took him less than a second to spot what he was supposed to be seeing. Sitting two rows in front of him and one seat over was Ashley Stafield, one of the girls in their class. Blonde haired, blue eyed, and just a little bit shy, from what little he could remember about her, her grades were just about average at best. A little pretty perhaps, but hardly special among the dozens or so other students in their class.

Of course, that was hardly why Jake had pointed her out to him. Even if they were both currently bored out of their minds. No, there was still a method behind the madness, because as plain as the rest of Amanda was, she was still miles ahead when it came to two very specific categories. Namely, the two giant pillows she had attached to the front of her chest. Like a pair of mountains, he thought, if mountains were even an appropriate name for such things.

Idly, he felt his eyes wander across her body. He couldn't help it. D-cups at least, maybe even a little bigger, while the rest of the girls were still a full size or two behind. And even worse, she just had to be wearing her usual pair of skintight yoga pants today that showed off every last inch of her considerably well-formed bottom along with the clearcut ridges of her panty line. It was too much for him to stand. Going by the perfectly logical rules of high school horror films, she would have fit right in as the barely legal cheerleader who ends up getting gangbanged by the entire cast at the end of the third act.

Thomas frowned. Hollywood had really been going downhill lately, which was the only reason why he had thought of the comparison. For now though, he had other things to focus on. Like following the outline of her bra as it ran up over her shoulder and down her back. Between his legs, he felt his member twitch another fraction of an inch upward, and he bit down on his lip.

"She's hot right?" said Jake.

Thomas groaned as he forced himself to agree.

"Like, image those tits," said Jake, "What I would give to have a couple of minutes alone with those things."

He stared in fascination at the holy muse of his desires. Thomas looked too, but with considerably less intent. Not that he didn't think she looked nice, but with his dick locked up as it was, even if he did manage to end up alone with her behind the locker rooms, it wasn't as if there was much for them to do anyways but stand around awkwardly.

For a moment, he tried to think about how it would turn out. The entire situation seemed like something out of a bad dream. More than likely, she would simply laugh at him the moment she saw his cage. Or his tiny little pecker, squished down like a sausage as it twitched uselessly above his sack. And as much as he wished he could do something about it, it was just simply impossible without the key.

Thus, it was more with a silent sense of appreciation that he looked over at the way her lips nibbled at the end of her pen. Like looking at the cakes through the window of a bakery. A feeling that only grew worse as Amanda leaned forward to tie up her hair. The back of her shirt rose up, and looking even closer, he could just make out the elastic waistband of her panties peeking out from the gap in between.

Pink.

"Man, that's one hot piece of ass," said Jake.

Well, so much for staring platonically. Thomas groaned again, shaking his head to snap himself out of it. He couldn't afford to do this right now, least of all before the weekend of all things. And besides, it wasn't as if he hadn't seen plenty of girls in their underwear before along with their tits. Sort of. Mostly just one pair of tits. The fact that they belonged to his sister wasn't something that he particularly felt like specifying.

Closing his eyes, he sighed as his mind wandered over the events of last week. There was another stab of discomfort as his member twitched again inside its cage. Already, he could feel his glans pressing up against the end of the device as it squeezed down against the entire length.

Fourteen days, that was how long he had to hold it in. Fourteen entire days of tossing and turning at night, unable to get a wink of sleep. And when the exhaustion finally came, it was always the same dream. Him and Sarah, the both of them naked as she knelt down in front of him with her lips wrapped around his shaft. And then, no matter how hard she sucked or how much his balls rose up, it would just continue on like that forever and forever until it was time to wake up again. At which point he would look down to find that he had made yet another mess against his sheets. A sticky trail of precum smeared across his thighs as his member throbbed in frustration between his legs.

Having to face Sarah at the breakfast table after that was pure hell. It didn't take long for extra cold showers to become a normal part of his morning routine. For now though, still sitting in the middle of class, he struggled to remain calm as he took in a deep breath.

"Thomas?"

"Hn?" said Thomas.

The sound was vaguely familiar, almost as if someone was calling his name. It repeated, and it was only after another moment of confusion he realized that Mrs. Parkins had asked him a question. Looking up from his desk, he blinked as the entire room turned to stare at him.

"Welcome back to reality," said Mrs. Parkins.

"Ah...," said Thomas.

"Is there something you happen to be thinking about?" she asked, "Something you would like to share with the rest of us?"

She looked down at him, and Thomas unconsciously blushed. For a moment he wondered if she was able to read his mind. Glancing over towards the board, he tried to find something to distract himself with. The entire surface looked like it had been torn straight out of a dictionary. And facing directly at him from his right, the generously sculpted curves of Ashley's magnificent chest wasn't helping.

Thomas shrunk down a little more into his chair as Mrs. Parkins glared at him.

"Uh, sorry," he said, "I got distracted. Can you repeat the question?"

"You know that class is almost over, right?" she asked.

"Ah, yes?" said Thomas.

"So just thirty more minutes of your time, and then you'll be free," said Mrs. Parkins, "Is that so hard to ask?"

Her stare tore directly through him, and Thomas struggled to think. Technically, it really wasn't, even if according to the clock on the wall, there were only twenty-three minutes left instead of the full half-hour. Every second that he had to continue to sit here though felt like pure torture. If not because of the spotlight currently shining down on him, then because of the endless crowd of girls surrounding him to the point where he could almost taste the hormones floating through the air.

The class stared at him, and desperately he wished he could close his eyes and disappear. All throughout the day, he had been tormented over and over again until he felt like he was about to break. And the lack of a school dress code was just the perfect cherry on top of the cake. Sometimes quite literally. Short skirts, miniskirts, microskirts that hardly covered anything at all, already he had spotted three nipple slips, two panty flashes, and even what he suspected to be a remote-controlled vibrator shoved up some poor girl's rear. Half the girls looking at him right now weren't even wearing a bra for goodness sake.

His poor denied dick couldn't take it anymore. It felt as if there was a gallon of cum stored up inside of him, hammering down against the doors of his seminal vesicles and his prostate. And under the immense pressure, every time he had to go to the bathroom, it always seemed to take ages for him to pee.

Swallowing hard on a dry throat, he tried his best to act normal as he answered.

"Sorry, I'll try harder next time," he said.

"Indeed," said Mrs. Parkins.

She gave him one last look before she turned back to the board, and Thomas let out a sigh of relief. The sooner the day ended, the sooner he could go home. And then maybe, just maybe, this time he would finally be allowed some relief. If he played his cards right that is, and the gods just happened to be smiling upon him as he made his roll. Besides him, Jake leaned over again to punch his arm.

"You know, if you lean to the side, you can kind of see her...," he said.

Thomas groaned as he ignored him. Slowly, class continued on.

&&&&&&

Later that night, dinner went about as well as it usually did. That is to say, not at all. Thomas could hardly focus as he sat down at the table. His stomach felt like it had been tied up into a knot. Besides him, his sister was once again arguing over something or the other, and he sighed as he tried to block her out. The last hour or so before his unlocking was always the worst.

"Oh, don't be a such baby," said their mother.

"But it feels really weird," said Sarah.

"Just three-quarters of an inch, that's all," said their mother, "And besides, you can always take them out before bed."

"But like, everyday?" said Sarah, "Even at school? Like, every time I sit down, it just keeps pressing up against the front and..."

She trailed off, and Thomas could almost hear the shift in her voice as her cheeks turned color. Or imagine in this case, since he wasn't exactly paying attention right now for what it was worth. Even if she was his sister, Sarah was still Sarah, and the longer he had to listen to her complain, the worse his headache got. And all their mother had done was bring up the usual suggestion again of buying her a new set of ben wa balls to replace the old ones that she had received around the time he had been locked up.

Sarah scowled, and their mother shrugged her shoulders. Thomas stared down at the table in despair. It was just another one of their normal dinnertime routines. Constant arguing that never seemed to cease, regardless of the subject matter at hand. He poked at the food on his plate again with his fork. They were having spaghetti with white sauce today, and pulling apart the noodles one by one, he watched as the oily substance slowly dripped off each strand to gather down below. Thick and viscous, just like...

"Anyways, I just hate how it feels afterwards," said Sarah, "Like, it's all swollen up and hard."

"How about a buttplug then?" said their mother, "That way, it'll only be your..."

"No," said Sarah.

"Or a maybe clit vibrator...," said their mother.

"No," said Sarah.

"A nipple clamp...," said their mother.

"Gods no," said Sarah, rolling her eyes as she groaned, "That's even worse."

Given the current state of her breasts, it didn't exactly take a genius to figure out that her nipples were probably still sore. Sarah crossed her arms in silence, and the two of them continued to stare at each other from across the table. Mother and daughter, locked together in a battle of ideological will. Then, their mother blinked once, and she let out a sigh as she finally gave up.

"What do you want then?" she said, "You can't just go with nothing at all."

"And why not?" said Sarah.

"Because it wouldn't be fair for your brother if you get to skip out," said their mother, "And besides, it's not like you even have that much to complain about. I get that it's frustrating, but it's probably even worse for him since he's a boy, and he has to hold it in as well."

There was a short pause, and Sarah hesitated as she tried to think of a response. For the first time since the argument had started, Thomas looked up in interest. Beyond just the usual weekly practice of having her suck him off, they were also required to meet a certain quota every day after school. Endurance training for him, and Kegel exercises for her. Which they both naturally resented, but the only other option was a punishment spanking bent over the arms of the couch. After which they would both be forced to go through the entire thing again anyways, only with a sore bottom this time around.

Double exercises for the both of them if either one of them messed up. It had only happened a couple of times before, but it hadn't taken long after that for them to start holding each other accountable. Thus, it was probably for the best that Sarah finally surrendered. Shifting in her seat, she mumbled under her breath as she stabbed down at her plate with her fork.

"The ben wa balls then," she said, "Just don't get the ones that are pink."

"How about blue?" said their mother.

"Blue is fine," mumbled Sarah, "No bumps though. Bumps are the worst."

Their mother nodded in sympathy, and Sarah looked back down towards the table. Then, with that out of the way, it was back to dinner as usual. Mostly just for their mother though, since after that short conversation, Sarah seemed to have grown just as out of it as well. Thomas couldn't blame her. After two entire weeks of being locked up, his prostate was already starting to feel like it was about to burst. With the amount of fluids stored up inside, he didn't even want to think about how it would feel to have something constantly pressing up against it like Sarah had to do with her g-spot at school.

Still, the thoughts filled his head. It was impossible not to imagine it. How she felt every day as she bent over in the mornings to slowly insert the two round spheres into her tunnel. Then, after walking around all day with the weight of the toys pressing up against her walls, to finally take them out again all without being able to cum. No wonder she hated it every time he rolled her rear. Especially if he was unable to finish within the allocated time, and they had to wait another week to try once more. All of the buildup and none of the pleasure, with her clit left untouched the entire time without any stimulation at all. At least he got to feel something, even if most of the times it was hardly enough.

Blushing, he forced himself to turn away before Sarah caught him staring. His member throbbed inside his chastity cage as he shifted in his seat. One last stretch of silence as he waited about awkwardly, and then it was finally time to clear up the table. Walking over to dump his plate into the trash, he returned to his spot again to find the dice already set out for him along with the bowl. Sarah rolled first, and he groaned as he saw the results.

One.

"Crap," said Sarah.

Well, a one wasn't too terrible, so long as he could...

In hindsight, he really shouldn't have said that. Famous last words for someone with his luck. His own die landed right beside the first, and then a moment later, staring right back at him was his very own pair of snake eyes, taunting him for his failure. One and one, making two in total. Meaning that all he would be getting today was a half-hearted handjob with absolutely no chance of being able to cum.

Sitting beside him, Sarah seemed about equally dejected as she looked over at the results.

"Didn't I tell you to roll higher last time?" she said.

Thomas said nothing to that.

"Well, at least it's not a twelve," sighed Sarah, "Let's just get this over with then."

A twelve would have given him at least a fifty percent chance of being able to finish. For now though, it hardly seemed to matter as Sarah reached down to strip free of her shirt. Reluctantly, Thomas did the same. He tried not to look this time as she turned around and bent over. The last thing he needed right now was to tease himself any more than he already was. Their mother walked forward to unlock his chastity cage, he groaned as his member sprung free. Already, there was a drop of precum clinging to the tip, and he shivered as it slowly rolled down to gather against his frenulum. It was the only thing that would be coming out of him today, after which he would be locked up again without relief.

As Sarah got down on her knees in front of him, he closed his eyes in despair. Her hand wrapped around his shaft, and he shuddered as she blew him a kiss. Her lips stopped less than half an inch away from the tip of his glans, and his frustration shot up even more as his eyes moved down over her breasts. Down below, he could just make out the smooth skin of her vulva along with the cleft of her slit.

"Try not to hold back this time and let it all out," she said.

Her hand moved up for the first stroke, and Thomas grit his teeth. That felt good. Way too good to just be a handjob. Sarah did it again, and he closed his eyes in frustration. As their mother got up to fill the bowl with ice, he desperately wondered whether he would be able to make it through the next week. It hardly seemed to matter in the moment though, as Sarah brought her other hand up to gently massage his balls.

Another drop of precum, another week of denial. Another frustrating night of being unable to sleep as his dreams were plagued with the mental image of his sister bent over in front of him, naked and on all fours. And as his member leaked and leaked and leaked inside the crushing confines of his cage, there would be nothing he could do but groan as she shook her hips from side to side, taunting him all the while.

Counting down from sixty inside his head, Thomas desperately wished for it all to be over.