12 Labors of Hercules, Caged Pt. 10

12 Labors of Hercules, caged Pt. 10

Part 10. Oral orgasm for a shy black girl by a caged man.

A caged and cuffed man manages to pleasure a shy black girl with his mouth.

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rosa-blanca.ru: gentle femdom, tease and denial, public tease, chastity cage, safeword, caged cock, pegging, CFNM, leading by cock.

##### Episode of a series. A wife, Cathy, convinces her husband (Professor Richard Van Middenstorm) to wear a chastity cage for a month-long archaeological study, which he will lead along with a team of four 25-year-old female scholars on an uninhabited island in Greece.

Among them is Emily, a low African American specializing in Mythological Literature, the shy protagonist of this episode. The others are Barbara, Skye, and Teresa, as blonde, red, and brown as the brews.

The main objective is to increase concentration for the completion of a Mythology History Book. Secondary goals, increase the husband's frustration, increase the wife's arousal over the phone, and ensure girls' fun without the risk of harassment.

Simple rules: during working hours, no tease. After hours, freedom to tease without mercy. Each girl can phone his wife and ask if she wants him to be released: if so, she will send a digital code to open a number padlock.

The wife and husband love each other and have an agreement. There is no hatred or resentment and no one wants to divorce. The girls enjoy teasing that harmless man. If these premises do not satisfy your taste, you can find many other better stories than this one on the site. #####

§ Chapter 32 -- Requiring a Quickie.

In the initial plan of Richard's wife, the girls would have a "license to tease" him, like 007, whenever one of them was in the right mood, from the first day.

But that huge archaeological discovery on the first night had upset all plans.

Cathy realized it was something important, seeing how busy they all were writing and consulting databases and colleagues. Richard was hyperactive and she had not seen him so focused on work in years.

She thought about teasing him a little bit, with spicy messages and photographs of herself naked, or short videos of her masturbating: just to remind him that she was allowed all the orgasms that he was denied.

But it was not the right time. She decided to leave him alone at least for a day.

The scenario on the airplane had excited her greatly, but she was beginning to doubt the plan: Cathy was at least ten to fifteen years older than the girls. Despite the shiny black hair and her Sicilian tan, she was beginning unsure of her own loveliness and fearful that the girls might be "too exciting" for her husband.

The girls were also distracted by work. The two archaeologists were cleaning and cataloging artifacts, Emily was interpreting the difficult spelling of papyri, and Skye was comparing mosaic images with the world's major databases. Barbara Bach is, a blue-eyed blonde pretending to be a doll but instead being dominant (she has a boob removed). Teresa, her Latina lover, is seemingly tough, but sweet inside. Skye McDuff, redheaded and freckled, thin, tall and bushy proud: tragic and sadistic. Emily Brown, the short and plump African American, who both at the barbecue and on the plane, openly disassociated herself from the idea of teasing him, and showed indifference. And wife Cathy, at least ten to fifteen years older than the girls, black hair and Sicilian tan, unsure of her own loveliness and fearful that the girls might be "too exciting" for her husband.

Theoretically, both Skye and Barbara had packed skimpy outfits to tease Richard, but that day no one thought anything of it. Okay, sometimes one of the girls would bend over showing a large portion of the cleavage (and none of them was wearing a bra, in that hot summer) but they were innocent things, not actual torture.

Richard, however, was very focused on work, and it seemed almost wrong to distract him.

The two Greek factotums, Megara and Alcmena, disembarked from the speedboat, bringing fresh ingredients to cook lunch and dinner. The two women had never seen a team of scholars so focused on study.

The first day's work flew by in a flash.

Megara and Alcmena left in the afternoon. The villa was in order, everything was perfect, Teresa and Barbara were relaxing with a long drink on the terrace. Richard was still typing on the computer in the main room when Skye arrived.

With one hand she shook a lock of long red hair from her freckle-dotted forehead and stared into his eyes.

"Are you still writing your great Book, Professor?"

"Yes... actually, I am."

"And I bet you haven't eaten anything."

"Uh... no... I had salad and chicken, very tasteful..."

"At lunch. But do you know what time it is?"

"Two o'clock in the afternoon?"

"It's nine o'clock... Dicky." Skye sighed, then looked at him with stern eyes. "By this time you are no longer a professor, but you are just our plaything. Miss Cathy has entrusted you to us, and we can tease you whenever we feel like it."

"That's right...Miss...Skye." Dicky swallowed hard. Skye's criminal look did not promise well.

"Answer me truthfully: you can also use your Safewords, you know I will respect them, I always have, out of a sense of Justice. (he nods, knowing). Do you know what a quickie is?"

"Every male knows. It happens when a woman allows you to cum swiftly even without regard to her own pleasure."

"Surprisingly correct answer: you can tell you're a guy who reads a lot of books, hehe. Since I am very tired today, and I don't feel like masturbating myself, would you be so kind as to gift me a quickie with your mouth? Your... pleasure, is excluded - of course - but it would be a kind service on your part, and besides, if I remember correctly, the color of my red bush amidst the freckles, has some effect on your erection... or, rather, it would have an effect if your cock were not locked in the cage!" Skye spread her legs wide and lifted the short green silk skirt: the red tuft was already glistening wet with pearls as if she had already masturbated for a long time. She Skye laughed heartily, watching as the famous professor Richard van Middenstorm blushed.

"Yes, Miss Skye... it would be a great honor and certainly a challenge for me, I thank you..."

"Then here are my instructions. First: save all the pc documents, I wouldn't want any important thoughts to be lost. Second: naked. Third: wrists behind your back, my good old-fashioned leather cuffs, they are very soft and comfortable but completely impossible to unfasten without this key... which I wear in my green silk necklace." Skye smiled at him. "Will you be able to succeed it, to make me come without being able to use your hands?"

He stood naked. She cuffed his wrists, then grabbed him by the balls and forced him to walk to the junior suite where she was staying with her roommate, Emily. It must have been a tiring day for Emily, because she was already asleep, lying in bed with her bare ass in the air: her pink shirt was too short to cover her little black butt cheeks.

Without romance, Skye quickly disrobed, lay on her back, and ordered him, "Make me come as fast as you can."

"Strange order," thought Richard as he set about to perform it as fast as he could. Usually, women asked him to hold out as long as possible. But Skye had probably masturbated long before going for it, and she came very quickly, moaning loudly.

Richard thought that perhaps the evening was over, and he could go to sleep.

§ Chapter 33 -- L'ultimo ordine: vai a svegliare colei che finge di dormire

Skye turned over to sleep, but with a sneer, she told Richard that she still had one last order for him, "Dicky darling, be an angel, I want you to kindly go and wake up Emily--who is pretending to sleep in bed three foot away, but I'm sure she heard everything."

Skye yawned without any politeness.

In a soft, raspy voice, she said, "Here's my order, Mr. Dicky. Naked, Caged, Cuffed: I want you to slide off my bed, crawling like a worm on the floor, rubbing your frustrating cage on the carpet, receiving no satisfaction.

The best thing about handling a caged man is that reciprocation is not necessary. It gives a lot of serenity and satisfaction... to me, not to you, of course! Yay!

Then, I want you crawling up Emily's near the bed, and I don't care how hard you have to work, with your wrists cuffed behind your back -- let's consider it one of the famous Labors of Hercules (giggle). In bed, I want you to kiss Emily on the skin, everywhere: lots of kisses on her feet, ankles, buttocks, back,... everywhere... until she wakes up... or until she decides to stop pretending to sleep, ha, ha!"

Skye tossed her head back, and fell asleep, satisfied with the effects of her orgasm.

Richard was in great difficulty. He had to get off the bed, first one knee, then the other, then lower himself. Slither across the floor. He managed to reach Miss Emily's bed, but he had to wake her gently: if he was asleep, she might kick in her sleep, or make unconscious sudden movements. He decided to take Miss Skye's orders literally: the feet of a sleeping person could be dangerous, the back less so.

Richard bent over the half-naked body of Emily, who was lying on her tummy. She was wearing a skimpy pink undershirt that left her buttocks exposed and shoulders the color of chocolate. Wide tan lines highlighted prude's habits: the girl wore swimsuits and had probably never sunbathed topless. Richard recalled something about Emily's obsession with the "Problem" that her nipples were squinting: they were not pointed symmetrically, but one was pointing forward, and the other bent outward. Richard thought that such a young and healthy girl should never have fretted over such a tiny thing.

He approached as gently as he could and placed a kiss on her bare shoulder. She continued to pretend to be asleep. Two kisses, ten kisses, a hundred kisses: on her shoulders, on her neck, on the base of her earlobe.

###

Emily pretended to be asleep. She thought that like all males, he would be hurried and quick.

She was surprised, noticing how patiently he merely kissed her gently.

One kiss on the neck was particularly amusing, and a giggle escaped her lips.

Emily feared he would be offended that she was pretending to be asleep. Instead, he smiled at her. She confessed, "Sorry... I was already awake..." "I know." "You knew?" "Well, with all of Skye's moaning and groaning... I suppose the statue of Hercules woke up, too...."

"But then, why didn't you wake me up right away?"

"I thought it was your choice, to force me to kiss you for a long time, Miss Emily--to tease my poor captive cock inside this metal cage."

She had turned toward him, leaning on one elbow. One nipple had popped out of her shirt.

He looked at it, then winked, "May I continue to do Miss Skye's bidding?"

"Which is?"

"I have been instructed to kiss your skin all over... feet, thighs, anus, clitoris, but without neglecting these two beautiful nipples..."

"You don't judge them to be cross-eyed?"

"Oh. No part of the human body is perfectly symmetrical -- the liver, for example, like Prometheus..."

"Neither is Barbara."

"Exactly. I think Miss Barbara is very beautiful. And harmonious. She has a heart. I don't care about the number of breasts in the presence of a real heart."

"And you wouldn't mind wasting a little time taking care of my nipples, Dicky?"

"It's not a waste of time, Miss. It's anticipation. You have to consider that whatever my mouth will do to your nipples will then be replicated at your clit -- twice as often."

Emily felt herself melting. The excitement built up during the trip had not been disposed of by quick masturbation the night before. She had known Skye for many years now (they had been friends since high school) and she had been unembarrassed to masturbate with her own vibrator after seeing the collection of toys the redhead had placed on the nightstand. There was no embarrassment whatsoever on that small uninhabited island, and certainly not inside their junior suite.

The idea that a man, caged and cuffed, would deliberately want to prolong his own torture by devoting so much time to her, turned her on tremendously. She had known hasty and selfish guys in the past (white, black, Latino, Asian) and Dicky, on the other hand, seemed so generous. Moreover, the knowledge that he would receive nothing in return enthralled Emily's mind. Shortly before, she had spied Skye: the redhead had focused only on her own orgasm, and had enjoyed it without the slightest hint of a release, and then had gone to sleep: guilt-free, with no obligation to reciprocate.

Emily reflected with sorrow on how many times she had pretended to enjoy to satisfy some rushed guy's selfishness: how many times she had screamed and curled her toes pretending to orgasm, just to make some silly, self-centered partner go away.

Instead Dicky was here, especially for her. He must have been very tired after a day's work and after eating Skye's fawn pussy: but instead of shortening his own torture, he was proposing new ways to prolong it.

Emily made herself comfortable and partially peeled off her pink T-shirt, exposing both dark nipples.

"Double Trouble: kiss the Girlies hello, Dicky."

He painstakingly devoted much time to licking, sucking, and biting Emily's nipples and dark tits. He was in no hurry and was moved by a sincere affection for that particular task.

Staring into his eyes, with a look mixed with distrust and boredom, illuminated only by a faint flicker of hope, Emily whispered in his ear, "I command you... to prove to me... that it is true that you can make me come with your mouth. I don't believe it, I never believed it, and I even told your wife, on the day of the barbecue. But yesterday on the plane, and today with Skye...all the girls say you're really skilled..."

Emily was truly grief-stricken. "Dicky, you and I are two experts in Mythology...the ancient Greeks said that Hope is the last Goddess, the one who avoids abandoning humans after all other deities have already disappeared, giving way to Emptiness and Depression...I didn't think I would ever utter these words, but Skye's moans made me wet... Help Me, Dicky-One Kenobi, You're My Only Hope."

"Allow me to suggest just one change to the plan, my Princess... let me lie down below, and sit on top of my face. Believe me: with my wife we used to do this often. You'll see it will be better for you, and I swear I won't fall asleep, don't worry."

She managed the movements and then sneered, "From here, I've got your balls near my hands, Dicky... I'm sure you won't fall asleep, but if you do, I know how to call you back to duty!" and gave his testicles a playful pat. No pain, just fun.

He interpreted it as an invitation to begin. And he began to lick thoroughly, starting with the labia and leaving the clitoris for last.

The secret of cunnilingus is always patience. One must not rush to finish (but had Skye really enjoyed it, or had she faked it? Impossible to know). Richard would lick the inside of Emily's thigh, then stop, letting her savor the sensations. The anticipation was also part of the tension. He gave a quick lick to the outstretched clitoris, but then withdrew his tongue; Emily moaned and gasped. Shifting her neck, he managed to strike her rosebud with his nose and lips. Straining, he reached even with his tongue. She was amazed and shocked by his efforts.

Richard returned to the pussy. From underneath, the wide forest of curly black hairs did not bother him so much, however, it was a problem to grasp the outer parts of the pussy with his teeth. Richard decided to concentrate on licking and sucking. He kept most of her labia inside his mouth as if he were performing a blowjob on her. Emily groaned and grunted.

Suddenly she was silent. Richard feared he had touched the wrong spot. If he had his hands free, he would have put a finger in her ass first, almost like radar, to deduce from her involuntary contractions whether she was enjoying or distracted. But her wrists were handcuffed and the key (he suddenly remembered) was hanging below Skye's sleeping chest--it would be very difficult to get free. Richard hesitated...

But after a moment Emily resumed moaning. Who knows what happened. His ears were stuck between her thighs, and with his eyes, he could see only her tummy and her tits dancing like two hot air balloons in the wind. He continued to lick and suck hard.

The minutes ticked by. No person had ever spent so much time on foreplay that others hurriedly hurried on.

Richard began licking her rosebud again. The position had changed slightly and the tongue could enter for a long stretch. Emily emitted moans and groans.

Suddenly Richard also heard, amid her moans, clearer words. Then he paused, like a gardener who stops pruning the rose garden because the gentle female voice of his owner summoned him.

Laboriously raising his neck from the pussy, he asked in a gentle voice, "Are you tired, my Mistress? Do you want me to stop?"

"Tired? But I am not tired at all."

"I beg your forgiveness, but I heard «tired, oh, I'm tired»: if you command me, I'll stop and we'll start again in an hour..."

Emily bit her lower lip with her teeth. In silence, she scolded herself. "Damn my big mouth! Luckily with my thighs clamped around his ears, Richard didn't understand what I said... or at least, that's what I hope."

Emily's fingers grasped her hair, forcefully. The gesture was not violent, but it communicated great urgency. Richard knew without any doubt that she wanted him to continue and that she was not so tired as to give up at that very point.

The moans increased. Emily was no longer holding back and was screaming with all her breath. Richard kept up the pace with his own mouth until she squeezed his hands even harder and then let go.

007 mission accomplished. First oral orgasm, checked. Emily with her eyes closed saw a universe of lights and colors overlapping like psychedelic planes. She screamed regardless of who was sleeping. She collapsed down onto the mattress, not caring who was lying underneath. First oral, with a willing slave in service. First. OMG... she felt as if she were losing consciousness.

§ Chapter 34 -- The Barber of Seville, or The Useless Precaution.

After a few minutes, Emily came to her senses and first wanted to make sure Dicky was okay. She raised one knee, and levered the arch of her foot. She did an elegant pirouette over his chest, wetting him with her pussy: some of it was his saliva, some of it the vagina's humors. She felt no shame, just a great sense of relaxation. Her dark skin slid over his light skin. Emily moved with her elbows, to look him in the eyes: it was easy for her to move, having her arms free.

"You have been phenomenal, Mr. Dicky. No man had ever made me enjoy it so much."

"Thank you, Miss Emily. I must confess it was truly a pleasure, and I don't say that out of flattery."

"What about the handcuffs? Do you perhaps want me to loosen them for you? It's not a game, you don't have to beg me, I'm not cruel like Skye, just say what you wish."

"I can sleep with handcuffs on, my wife has already accustomed me, it has already happened many nights, don't worry, my Lady."

"I've had sex with a few men before, but no one has devoted so much passion to taking care of my pussy, dear: sometimes just a quick fingering, sometimes a fleeting one-minute kiss.

In my ears rang that old song, which I used to listen to as a child -- 'Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods? Where's the street-wise Hercules To fight the rising odds?' I always wondered if, at the root of my college choice, there was that song.

Now, look me in the eye and promise to be honest.

Tell me the truth: does my pussy taste bad, or smell bad?"