**Locked and Loaded in the Kitchen**

I couldn’t believe I’d let her talk me into this. A week ago, Rachel had slid that pink chastity cage onto my dick, locked it with a smirk, and told me I’d learn patience. Now, standing bare-assed in the kitchen with a plug snug in my ass and her strapped-up cock bobbing against her thighs, I was sweating.

“You look so fucking cute like this,” she murmured, running a fingertip down my chest. My skin prickled under her touch, my dick straining uselessly against the cage. The plug inside me shifted as I shifted my weight, sending little shocks of pleasure up my spine.

Rachel’s strapon was thick, veined silicone, glistening with lube. She’d made me suck it first, gripping my hair as I gagged, my spit dripping down the shaft. “Wider, baby,” she’d coaxed, slapping my cheek with it before feeding it back between my lips. Now, she turned me around, pressing my chest against the cold countertop. The plug in my ass stretched me just enough that when she lined up the head of the strap-on against my hole, I whimpered.

“Oh, you’re gonna take it,” she growled, gripping my hips. The broad tip pressed in, and I gasped, my fingers scrabbling against the counter. It was so much thicker than the plug—burning, relentless—but she didn’t stop. Inch by inch, she worked herself deeper, my hole clenching around her cock as she bottomed out with a groan.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” she panted, grinding against me. The cage made my own cock throb painfully, my balls aching. I could feel every ridge of the strap-on dragging against my walls as she pulled back, then slammed in again. The kitchen filled with the wet slap of skin, my moans, her breathless praise.

“That’s it, take it like a good girl,” Rachel murmured, reaching around to flick my nipple. I arched, my ass clamping down on her cock as pleasure zipped through me. She sped up, fucking me hard now, the sound obscene. The plug had been a tease—this was *filling* me, stretching me, making me whine like a slut.

“You love this, don’t you?” she taunted, gripping my hips tighter. “Love being all locked up and full of cock?” I could only nod, my thighs shaking. My own dick was leaking in the cage, desperate for any friction, but she ignored it, too busy hammering into my ass.

Then her fingers found my clit—tiny, swollen beneath the cage—and rubbed fast, rough circles. I nearly screamed. The double sensation of her cock plunging into me and her fingers working my trapped dick had me seizing up, my whole body trembling.

“Come for me,” she ordered, fucking me even harder. And I did—wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me, my ass clenching around her cock as I sobbed. She kept going, riding me through it, until she groaned and slumped against my back, her thrusts turning erratic.

When she finally pulled out, I collapsed against the counter, my legs jelly. Rachel unlocked my cage, smirking as my dick twitched, still oversensitive. “Good girl,” she whispered, kissing my forehead.

And fuck, I already wanted to do it again.