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I don’t bother with the mirror tonight. I know exactly what I look like: red dress so tight it’s basically a second skin, nipples hard enough to cut glass, hem riding high enough that if I bend even slightly you’ll see the wet shine on my inner thighs. No panties. No mercy.
Mark is already on the floor where he belongs, naked, knees spread wide, pink cage bobbing between his legs like a pathetic little tail. His cock is purple from nine days locked, veins bulging against the bars, a steady stream of precum dripping onto the hardwood in shiny strands. He’s trembling. Good.
I step over the puddle he’s made and plant one stiletto between his thighs, close enough that the sharp heel grazes his swollen balls.
“Look at me, cuck.”
His eyes snap up, glassy and wrecked.
“Tell me what tonight is.”
He licks his dry lips. “Tonight Javier is taking my wife out, fingering her in public, then bringing her home to breed her raw in our bed while I listen like the useless locked bitch I am.”
“Louder.”
“Tonight another man is going to fuck my wife’s cunt loose on the mattress I paid for,” he says, voice cracking, “and I’m going to sit in the guest room with my ears pressed to the wall, jerking my cage until my balls bleed, thanking him every time he makes her scream.”
I smile slow and vicious and grind the heel just enough to make him whimper.
“Phone.”
He scrambles to hand it to me on his knees. Javier’s text lights up the screen:
**Tell your husband I’m flooding that pussy tonight. No condom. No pulling out. I want him tasting me for a week.**
I tilt it so Mark can read every word. A broken sound tears out of him, half sob, half moan. His cage jerks so hard a fresh spurt of precum hits my ankle.
“Answer him,” I order.
His shaking fingers type:
**Please empty your balls in my wife tonight, Sir. Ruin her for me. I’ll clean every drop and kiss her clit to thank you.**
He hits send and immediately drops the phone like it burned him, forehead pressing to my shoe.
I step back, letting him see the wet streak I’ve left on the floor between my feet.
“That’s how soaked I am for a real man, Mark. That’s how little you do for me.”
I grab his hair, yank his head back, and spit directly into his open mouth.
“Swallow.”
He does, eyes rolling back.
“When we get home,” I continue, voice low and cruel, “I’m going to ride him on your side of the bed. I’m going to make him come so deep you’ll taste it when you eat me tomorrow morning. And if you make a single jealous noise (if I hear one fucking whimper that isn’t gratitude), I will lock you in the basement with the baby monitor on so you can listen to round two while I piss on your pillow.”
He’s openly crying now, tears and precum both dripping to the floor.
“Thank you, Maria,” he rasps. “Thank you for letting a better man take what’s his. I love you.”
I release his hair, letting his face hit the wood with a dull thud.
I’m already halfway out the door when I call back, “Leave the cage key on the kitchen counter where he can see it when he’s balls-deep in me. I want him to laugh at how small it is.”
The lock clicks behind me like a gunshot.
I don’t look back.
I never do anymore.
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