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Sarah first met Brock at the gym four months ago. She was on the treadmill when the tall, broad-shouldered ex-Marine walked past. One look at those thick arms and that confident swagger and her pussy instantly got wetter than it had been in years. They started flirting between sets. Within a week he was bending her over the hood of his truck in the parking lot, fucking her so hard she saw stars. That was the night she decided Timmy would never touch her again.
Two weeks later she came home with a small black box and a wicked smile. “Take off your pants, Timmy.” He obeyed like the spineless little bitch he was. She locked a shiny metal electric chastity cage around his pathetic shrimp dick, the kind with a remote control. “From now on, this stays on. Only I decide when it comes off… if ever.”
The real fun started that same night. Every time Timmy got even slightly hard inside the cage, Sarah would press the button. The sharp electric shock would make his dick shrivel instantly, pain shooting through his balls. She did it over and over, laughing every time his tiny cock twitched and died. After a month of constant shocks, Timmy’s dick barely responded to anything anymore. He was basically impotent now, a limp, useless noodle that couldn’t get hard even if he tried. Exactly what she wanted.
Tonight the routine continued. Sarah was on all fours, gripping the sheets, while Brock slammed into her from behind with deep, powerful strokes. Every thrust made her cry out, loud and shameless.
“Oh my God, yes! Fuck me just like that!” she screamed. “Your cock is so thick… I can actually feel you stretching me. I forgot what that even feels like.”
She turned her head toward the doorway where her husband, Timmy, stood watching in his tiny metal cage, face flushed. Sarah laughed, a sharp, mocking sound.
“Look at him,” she said to Brock, voice dripping with disdain. “Just standing there like a sad little puppy. Timmy, honey, don’t just stare. Go make us some snacks. Grilled cheese, fresh juice, and bring some cold water. Mommy’s thirsty after getting properly fucked for once.”
Timmy hesitated for a second. Sarah’s eyes narrowed. Without warning she pressed the remote in her hand. A loud zap echoed and Timmy doubled over, whimpering as the cage shocked his limp dick.
“Now, bitch. Move.”
He turned and shuffled toward the kitchen, shoulders slumped. As soon as he was out of sight, Sarah pushed back against Brock harder, her voice rising again.
“God, he could never do this. Thirty fucking seconds and he’s already twitching like a virgin. Then that pathetic watery dribble comes out—like someone left the faucet running. Tap water, I swear. No wonder I’ve never gotten pregnant. His cum is literally useless.”
Brock chuckled, gripping her hips tighter. “He really can’t satisfy you, huh?”
“Not even close,” Sarah gasped, her body trembling. “I haven’t cum from his dick in years. Not once. I fake it every single time just so he’ll stop humping me like a desperate dog. But you… fuck, you’re hitting spots he doesn’t even know exist.”
She looked over her shoulder again as Timmy returned with the tray, hands shaking so badly the glasses rattled. Sarah didn’t stop moving, didn’t even slow down. She kept riding Brock’s cock, moaning loudly with every stroke.
“Put it on the nightstand, cuck,” she ordered, voice breathy but commanding. “And don’t spill anything or I’ll make you lick it off the floor.”
Timmy set the tray down carefully, eyes glued to the scene in front of him. Sarah’s breasts bounced with each thrust, her face twisted in pleasure he had never seen before.
“See this?” she taunted him directly now. “This is what a real man feels like. Thick. Hard. Lasting more than ten seconds. You’re just a quick-shooting joke with a sad little shrimp dick. No wonder I never let you inside me anymore.”
Brock groaned and flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. Sarah’s moans got even louder as he drove into her again, the wet slapping sounds filling the room.
“Yes, baby! Right there! Don’t stop—make me cum all over your cock!” she screamed. Then, turning to Timmy again, “You hear that? That’s what an orgasm sounds like. When you fuck me I just lie there praying you finish fast so I can go wash your watery mess off me.”
Timmy’s face burned crimson. Sarah smirked and pressed the remote again. Another vicious shock ripped through his cage, making his limp dick twitch uselessly. He let out a pathetic squeak.
When she came down from her orgasm, still panting, she pointed at the floor. “Sheets are soaked already. When we’re done, you’re changing them and doing the laundry. Then you’re cleaning the whole bedroom. Every surface. We’re nowhere near finished tonight.”
She pulled Brock down for a deep kiss, then looked back at her husband with a cruel smile. “And maybe, just maybe, if you’re a very good little cuck and don’t make a sound, I’ll let you watch him fill me up. You can kneel right there and see what real cum looks like—thick, white, and actually capable of making a baby. Unlike your sad little tap water.”
Sarah laughed again, loud and vicious, as Brock started thrusting once more. “Now go start the laundry, loser. Mommy needs her pussy wrecked properly, and your errands aren’t going to do themselves.”
Timmy turned silently and walked out of the room, the sound of his wife’s ecstatic moans chasing him down the hallway, another shock buzzing through his useless caged dick.
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