Grace’s heels clicked sharply on the polished floor, her commanding presence radiating through the room. Her tight black latex outfit gleamed under the soft lights, hugging every curve of her body in a way that made Luke’s breath hitch.

The way her hips swayed, the way her chest strained against the material—it was intoxicating. Beside her, Max stood tall and composed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, the crisp lines of his jacket emphasizing his broad shoulders and the air of control he exuded. Together, they were power personified, and Luke’s caged cock throbbed painfully as he knelt before them.

“Eyes on my feet,” Grace said sharply, catching his gaze drifting upward. Her riding crop lightly tapped his ass, guiding his head back down. “When you address us, your eyes stay on the floor unless instructed otherwise.”

Luke swallowed hard, his face burning with the humiliation and arousal that flooded his senses. “Y-yes, Mistress,” he whispered, his voice trembling with need.

Grace smirked, circling him with predatory grace. “Good boy. At least you’re trying. But we’re far from done.” She stopped behind him, running the crop down the curve of his back. “Position Four.”

Luke’s mind raced as he tried to remember the command. His breathing quickened, the tightness of the cage around his cock a constant, maddening reminder of his desperation. Finally, the position came to him: kneeling upright with his thighs spread wide, hands resting palms-up on his knees, head bowed. He moved into place as quickly as he could, his body trembling with effort and need.

“Wider,” Max commanded, stepping closer. His polished shoes came into view, the scent of his expensive cologne making Luke’s head spin. “If you’re going to display yourself, do it properly.”

Luke shifted, spreading his knees further apart until he felt completely exposed. The position was both humiliating and exhilarating, the ache in his thighs barely registering over the pulsing heat of his arousal. He could feel their gazes on him, dissecting him, appraising him, and the thought made him throb harder in the cage.

“Better,” Grace purred, her voice dripping with approval. She stepped in front of him, the shine of her latex drawing his eyes like a magnet. “And where are your eyes supposed to be, pet?”

Luke’s head jerked downward instantly, his gaze locking onto her feet. “On the floor, Mistress,” he said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” she said, the tip of her riding crop tapping his chin lightly. “But don’t forget again. We don’t tolerate disobedience.”

Max’s voice cut in, firm and commanding. “And remember, Luke—you only speak when asked a direct question. Anything else is unnecessary. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Luke replied, his voice trembling. The restriction sent another wave of heat through his body. The idea of being so controlled, of speaking only when granted permission, made his chest tighten with both anticipation and arousal.

“Position Five,” Grace commanded suddenly.

Luke hesitated, his mind scrambling. The punishment for forgetting was swift—the riding crop cracked against his inner thigh, the sharp sting making him gasp.

“No hesitation,” Max said coldly. “Every second you delay shows us how much further you need to go.”

Luke whimpered, his body trembling as he remembered the command: kneeling with his hands flat on the floor, arms stretched forward, forehead pressed against the ground. He scrambled into the position, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the floor in its cage, the pressure a constant torment.

“Much better,” Grace said, her tone laced with mockery. She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “You look so perfect like this, completely at our mercy. Do you feel it, pet? Do you feel how helpless you are?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Luke whispered, his voice muffled against the floor. His body ached with a mixture of submission and desire, every fiber of his being attuned to their dominance.

The flogger struck lightly against his ass, the sensation spreading warmth through his skin. Grace’s laugh was soft and wicked as she delivered another teasing stroke. “You’re trembling,” she observed, her voice a blend of amusement and satisfaction. “Is it the cage? The way it keeps you so needy, so desperate for relief you’ll never get without our permission?”

Luke whimpered, his voice trembling. “Yes, Mistress. It’s… it’s everything.”

Max crouched beside him, his hand resting on Luke’s back, firm and steady. “You’re learning, but you still have a long way to go. You’ll learn to obey without thought, to embrace every rule, every position, every command. And do you know why, Luke?”

“Because I belong to you, Sir,” Luke whispered, his voice breaking with raw emotion.

“Exactly,” Max said, his tone dark and approving. “And as long as you belong to us, you’ll remain in that cage. Your desperation fuels your submission, and we enjoy watching you suffer for us.”

Grace knelt beside him, her latex-clad figure so close he could almost feel the heat radiating from her body. Her gloved hand tilted his chin upward just enough for her to look into his eyes. “You’re ours to shape, to tease, to torment,” she said softly, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “And you’ll thank us for every second of it.”

Luke shuddered under their combined presence, the ache in his body and the torment of his cage blending into an overwhelming cocktail of pleasure and pain. He was theirs, completely and utterly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The tension in the room thickened as Luke knelt in Position Four—his thighs spread wide, hands resting palms-up on his knees, and his head bowed, eyes fixed obediently on Max’s polished shoes. Sweat dotted his brow as he struggled to remain perfectly still, his breathing shallow with both exertion and the maddening arousal that gripped him. The chastity cage throbbed painfully with each pulse of desire, the unrelenting confinement an exquisite torment.

“Position Five,” Max commanded, his voice calm but firm, carrying the weight of authority.

Luke moved quickly, but his knee slipped slightly as he adjusted, his body wobbling as he rushed to place his forehead to the floor. His palms hit the surface unevenly, and he gritted his teeth, silently cursing his clumsiness.

A sharp crack echoed through the room as the riding crop struck his ass, making him flinch and cry out. “Careless,” Grace chided, her voice silky with mock disappointment. She stepped around him, her black latex outfit gleaming as she bent slightly to inspect his positioning. “You’re not even trying, are you, pet? Such a naughty boy.”

Luke’s face burned with shame and desire. “I’m sorry, Mistress,” he said quickly, his voice trembling. “I’ll do better.”

Grace’s laugh was low and teasing as she lightly dragged the crop down his spine. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But apologies won’t save you now. Max?”

Max’s deep voice rumbled like thunder. “He needs to learn discipline. I think it’s time for a more… direct lesson.”

Luke’s heart raced as Max stood and took a seat on the nearby leather armchair, his presence even more commanding now. With a single beckoning motion, he gestured for Luke to come closer. Luke hesitated for only a moment before crawling to him, his body trembling with both fear and an unbearable, aching arousal.

“Over my lap,” Max instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Luke swallowed hard, his cock pressing painfully against the cage as he obeyed, draping himself awkwardly across Max’s strong thighs. The position left his ass fully exposed, his vulnerability on display in a way that made his whole body burn with humiliation and need. He could feel the firmness of Max’s legs beneath him, the heat of his body making Luke’s pulse quicken.

Grace crouched beside them, her gloved fingers stroking Luke’s hair in a mockingly tender gesture. “Such a naughty boy,” she murmured, her lips close to his ear. “Making mistakes, forgetting commands. Do you think we’ll let that slide?”

Luke whimpered, his voice trembling. “No, Mistress.”

“That’s right,” she said with a wicked smile. “You’ll take your punishment, and you’ll thank us for it. Won’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Luke whispered, his voice barely audible.

Max’s hand came down hard on Luke’s ass, the sharp slap echoing through the room. Luke gasped, the sting spreading through his skin like fire. The chastity cage throbbed against him, every strike sending a fresh wave of helpless arousal through his body.

“Count,” Max said simply.

“O-one,” Luke stammered, his voice shaking.

Another hard spank landed, the force making him jolt slightly. “Two,” he choked out, his cheeks flushing deeper with every strike.

Grace’s laugh was soft and cruel as she leaned in closer. “Look at you, squirming already. Is that cage getting tighter, pet? Do you want to beg for relief?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Luke whimpered, his voice breaking with desperation. “Please…”

“Oh, no,” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “You haven’t earned that. Not even close.”

Max’s hand came down again, harder this time, making Luke cry out. “Three,” he gasped, his voice muffled against Max’s lap. His body trembled, the humiliation and the ache of his arousal combining into a heady mix that made him feel like he was drowning in submission.

Grace ran the tip of the riding crop lightly along the back of Luke’s thigh, her touch teasing and maddening. “I wonder, Max,” she mused, her voice full of wicked delight. “Does he even want to try harder? Or does he enjoy being our naughty little toy too much?”

Max’s hand paused, resting heavily on Luke’s reddened skin. “What do you think, Luke?” he asked, his voice low and commanding. “Are you going to learn, or are you just going to keep earning punishments?”

“I’ll learn, Sir,” Luke whispered, his voice thick with desperation. “I’ll do better. I promise.”

Grace’s laugh was dark and knowing. “We’ll see about that.” She tapped the crop lightly against his cheek, her latex-clad fingers trailing down his back. “But for now, you’ll take every last stroke. And you’ll thank us when it’s done.”

Max resumed the spanking, his strikes firm and deliberate, each one driving Luke deeper into submission. The cage throbbed painfully, his body trembling as he counted each strike through gritted teeth. And through it all, Grace’s voice teased him, her cruel words only adding to the unbearable ache of his arousal.

By the time it was over, Luke’s body was spent, his mind hazy with submission. Max’s hand rested on his back, grounding him, while Grace leaned in close, her voice soft and mocking.

“Good boy,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear. “But remember, pet—this is just the beginning. We’ll mold you into perfection, one punishment at a time.”

The air in the room felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that had Luke’s skin prickling as he knelt naked on the cool floor. The ache of the chastity cage around his cock was a constant reminder of his submission, pressing unrelentingly against his arousal. Across from him, Max and Grace reclined on the plush leather sofa, their clothes a striking contrast to his exposed vulnerability. The visual imbalance—their dominance wrapped in layers of fine fabric and latex against his bare skin—hammered home the depth of their control.

Max sat back, his crisp suit unruffled, one arm resting casually along the back of the sofa as he leaned into Grace. She was a vision of dark temptation, her tight black latex outfit gleaming as she straddled his lap slightly, her curves pressed against him. They kissed deeply, their lips meeting with a sensual hunger that made Luke’s heart race and his body ache. Their intimacy wasn’t just sexual—it was a display of power, of unity, of everything they had and everything he was denied.

“Position Eleven,” Max commanded suddenly, his voice firm yet almost casual, as if Luke’s obedience was as natural as breathing to him.

Luke moved quickly, the instinct to obey overriding any hesitation. Kneeling upright, he crawled toward them and lowered his head. Position Eleven—the act of worship—was a place of ultimate humility, one he had learned to embrace despite the shame and heat it stirred within him. He started with Grace’s boots, his lips brushing the polished leather reverently, his tongue flicking out to run along the seams, tasting the faint tang of the material.

“Good boy,” Grace murmured, her voice dripping with approval as she broke her kiss with Max to glance down at him. Her gloved fingers stroked his hair lazily, the gesture both affectionate and dismissive. “Look at you, so desperate to serve. Is it the boots, pet? Or is it the fact that we’re up here, clothed, untouchable, while you’re naked on your knees where you belong?”

Luke shivered, her words cutting through him like a blade. “Both, Mistress,” he whispered, his voice trembling with arousal and submission. The power exchange was intoxicating, the way their confidence and control made him feel small, insignificant, and completely owned.

Max chuckled, the deep sound vibrating through the air as his hand traced the curve of Grace’s hip. “Answering out of turn again?” he asked, his tone amused but with an edge of warning. “Keep worshiping, Luke. Let your mouth do something useful.”

Luke’s lips returned to Grace’s boots, trailing kisses along the arch of her foot before moving to the heel. Every press of his lips was deliberate, reverent, a physical acknowledgment of her superiority. The tightness of the cage against his cock was maddening, every pulse of his arousal amplified by the knowledge that he was utterly at their mercy.

Grace leaned back against Max’s chest, her smile wicked as she tilted her head for another kiss. “I love watching him like this,” she murmured against Max’s lips. “So eager to please. So helpless.”

Max smirked, his fingers brushing along the curve of her jaw before capturing her lips again. As they kissed, Luke shifted to Max’s shoes, his tongue dragging across the polished leather. The taste was faintly bitter, the cool surface smooth under his lips. He worked methodically, his mouth moving over every inch as if his life depended on it.

“Slower,” Max said without looking down, his voice calm but commanding. “Every kiss should mean something. No rushing.”

Luke obeyed instantly, slowing his movements as he kissed the tip of Max’s shoe, then worked his way along the sides.

The act of worship, the act of being beneath them—naked and vulnerable while they were dressed and utterly composed—was a heady mix of humiliation and pleasure.

Grace moaned softly as Max’s hands roamed over her latex-clad body, the sound sending another wave of heat coursing through Luke’s body. He could hear the soft squeak of the material as Max’s fingers traced her curves, their shared passion a sharp contrast to his solitary desperation.

“Look at him,” Grace said, her voice thick with amusement as she glanced down at Luke. “So obedient, so desperate. Tell me, pet—how does it feel to be on your knees, naked, while we enjoy each other?”

Luke’s face burned as he paused in his worship, his voice trembling as he replied. “It… it feels right, Mistress. To be here, serving you.”

Her laugh was low and sultry, her gloved hand cupping Max’s cheek as she turned back to him. “Of course it feels right,” she said with a wicked smile. “Because it’s where you belong.”

Max finally glanced down at Luke, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Don’t stop,” he said simply, his voice steady and unyielding.

Luke resumed his worship, his lips moving over Max’s shoes with careful devotion. The sharp contrast between their positions was overwhelming. They were untouchable, commanding, wrapped in the power of their clothes and their dominance, while he was stripped bare, kneeling and kissing their feet in an act of complete submission. Every second was a reminder of his place, a reminder of their control, and it only made the ache in his cage grow more intense.

Above him, Grace moaned again as Max’s hands wandered, their kiss deepening. The sound filled Luke’s ears, a reminder of everything he was denied, everything that lay tantalizingly out of reach. He was theirs—naked, aching, and utterly obedient—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The air buzzed with anticipation as Grace stood over Luke, her black latex gleaming in the soft light. The subtle creak of the material as she moved sent another shiver of arousal down Luke’s spine, his caged cock throbbing painfully with every passing second. Max watched from the sofa, his sharp suit still immaculate, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he observed with an approving smirk.

Grace’s gloved fingers held the leash she had just clipped to the small ring at the base of Luke’s chastity cage. The leather strap dangled lightly, the weight of it adding to the ache between his legs. She gave it a soft tug, and Luke gasped, his hands and knees pressing firmly into the floor.

“Crawl,” she commanded, her voice smooth but firm, leaving no room for disobedience.

“Yes, Mistress,” Luke whispered, his voice trembling with arousal as he began to move. The tug on the leash sent sharp, teasing jolts of sensation through his body, the pull on his most sensitive area reminding him of just how fully she controlled him.

Grace walked ahead with slow, deliberate steps, her high-heeled boots clicking on the floor. The leash swayed in her hand, each motion a reminder of his submission. Luke crawled behind her, his body low to the ground, the cool surface beneath him heightening his vulnerability. He couldn’t take his eyes off her—off the way her latex-clad figure moved with confidence and power, every step reinforcing her dominance.

“You’ve come so far tonight,” Grace said as she walked, her voice laced with amusement. She glanced over her shoulder, her dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “But don’t think for a moment that you’re anywhere near ready for release.”

Luke whimpered softly, the ache in his cage almost unbearable now. The words were both a punishment and a promise, leaving him desperate for more. “I understand, Mistress,” he said, his voice strained with need.

“Do you?” she asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him. The leash tightened slightly, pulling on his cage and making him freeze. She crouched down, her gloved fingers tilting his chin upward so his gaze met hers. “Do you truly understand that your chastity isn’t just about denial? It’s about control. Our control. And until you’ve proven you’re worthy, that cage stays locked.”

Luke’s breath hitched, his body trembling under her intense gaze. “Yes, Mistress,” he whispered, his voice thick with submission. “I understand.”

She smiled, the kind of smile that sent a rush of both fear and arousal through him. Standing again, she gave the leash another firm tug, and he resumed crawling, following her out of the room and down the hallway. The sound of her boots against the floor echoed in his ears, each step a reminder of her power over him.

When they reached the front door, Grace turned to him again. Max remained in the doorway of the living room, watching silently, his presence a steady, commanding force. Grace leaned down slightly, her gloved hand brushing Luke’s cheek.

“You’ve done well tonight,” she said, her voice softer now but still dripping with authority. “You’re learning. Slowly, but you’re learning. And that pleases us.”

Luke’s chest swelled with pride at her words, even as the cage throbbed painfully, a reminder of just how much further he had to go. “Thank you, Mistress,” he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

She reached down, her fingers tugging lightly on the leash, sending another wave of sensation through his body. “But don’t get too comfortable. This is only the beginning. You still have a long way to go before we even consider unlocking you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Luke replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The thought of enduring more of their training, of submitting to their every whim, sent a fresh surge of arousal through him, making the cage feel impossibly tight.

Grace straightened, unhooking the leash with a practiced motion and letting it fall to the floor. She smirked down at him, her hands on her hips. “Go home, pet. Reflect on tonight. When we call for you again, I expect you to be ready to serve without hesitation.”

Luke nodded quickly, his entire body humming with anticipation. “I will, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress.”

As Grace turned back toward Max, her hips swaying as she walked, Luke’s heart raced. He stayed on his knees for a moment longer, watching as they retreated together into the warmth of the house, their shared laughter floating down the hall. The image of them—clothed, composed, utterly in control—was burned into his mind.

As he dressed and prepared to leave, his body still ached with arousal, the tightness of the cage a constant reminder of his place. Despite the torment, or perhaps because of it, he couldn’t wait for their next meeting. The promise of their dominance, their control, was all he could think about.

And as he stepped out into the cool night air, the leash marks faintly tingling on his skin, Luke knew he would do anything to please them again.

He loved his situationship with Max and Grace, and couldn’t wait to see what they had planned next.