A week more passed after day 4. Krishnansh’s life had become a careful performance of normalcy, every day a tightrope walk between hiding the cage and keeping Prerna from asking too many questions.
Day 5
He woke up to the familiar tug of the metal ring behind his balls. The cage had become part of his morning routine now — the first sensation before he even opened his eyes. He lay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, counting the days again. Twenty-five more to go. He got up quietly, went to the bathroom, sat to pee (standing was still awkward, the angle wrong, the stream uneven). The cold metal warmed slowly against his skin as he showered, water hitting the cage in sharp little bursts that made him flinch. He dressed in loose joggers and a hoodie for the gym — nothing tight, nothing that would show the outline. Prerna was still asleep; he kissed her forehead and left without waking her.At the gym he stuck to upper body only. No squats, no lunges, no running. Even bench press felt risky — the cage shifted when he arched his back. He caught a guy in the locker room glancing at him oddly when he changed. He turned away fast, heart racing, convinced the bulge was obvious. He left early, showered at home, avoided Prerna’s hug when she tried to pull him close after lunch.“You’re so distant,” she said quietly. “Is it really just the cage?”He nodded. “Coach said no release until after the match. I’m trying to follow the rules.”She looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. But don’t shut me out completely.”Day 6
Prerna tried again at night. She came to bed in a thin nightie, slid her hand under his t-shirt, kissed his neck. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I miss feeling you inside me.”Krishnansh tensed. “Prerna… I can’t. Not with this thing on.”She pulled back, hurt. “So what? We just stop having sex for a month?”He didn’t know what to say. He hugged her instead, held her tight, but didn’t let her hand wander lower. She fell asleep frustrated. He stared at the ceiling until 3 AM, the cage pressing against his thigh, his cock trying to harden and failing, the ache building with no release.Day 7
He filmed a reel — fully clothed, just talking about pre-tournament prep. Comments poured in: “Bro you look jacked ” “Those arms tho” “When’s the next shirtless football vid?” He read them and felt sick. He used to love the attention. Now every word reminded him of the doctor, the buyer, the cage.Prerna tried to initiate again in the afternoon. She pushed him against the kitchen counter, hand sliding down his stomach. “Just let me touch you,” she said. “I won’t try to take it off. I just miss you.”He let her hand go lower — then flinched when her fingers brushed the cage through his shorts. She pulled back, eyes narrowing.“You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”Krishnansh looked away. “It’s temporary. For the match. I promise.”She walked out of the kitchen without another word.Day 8
He woke up leaking again. The cage had become a constant low-level torment — the pressure never let him fully soften, so pre-cum leaked all day, making the inside slippery and sticky. He showered twice, changed his shorts three times. At the gym he wore baggy sweats, skipped leg day again. A teammate asked why he wasn’t doing squats. He mumbled something about recovery.Prerna barely spoke to him that night. She went to bed early. He slept on the couch again.Day 9
He avoided the gym. Stayed home. Prerna came back from work and found him on the couch, legs spread, arms up, just in loose undies. She looked at him for a long moment.“You look miserable,” she said.He didn’t answer.She sat beside him, hand on his thigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I miss us. I miss touching you. I miss feeling close to you.”Krishnansh closed his eyes. “I miss it too.”“Then let me,” she whispered, hand sliding higher.He caught her wrist gently. “I can’t. Not yet.”She pulled away, stood up, and walked to the bedroom without a word.He sat there alone, the cage a cold, heavy reminder that he was failing her. Failing himself.Day 10
He woke up to the same feeling — the cage, the pressure, the ache. Twenty days left. He counted them every morning now, like a prisoner marking days on a wall.He went for a run — slow, short. The cage bounced with every step, tugging his balls, rubbing his cock head raw. He came home early, showered, changed. Prerna was already home, sitting on the couch.She looked at him. “You’re still wearing it.”He nodded.She stood up. “I’m going to my friend’s place tonight. I need space.”Krishnansh’s heart sank. “Prerna…”She grabbed her bag. “I love you. But I can’t keep pretending everything is fine when you won’t even let me near you.”She walked out.He stood in the empty living room, alone with the cage, alone with the silence.He had no idea how he was going to survive the next twenty days.
Four more days dragged by, each one heavier than the last.Krishnansh and Prerna barely spoke without it turning into an argument. It started small — her asking why he flinched when she hugged him from behind, why he always wore loose clothes even at home, why he slept on the couch every night now. He gave the same excuses: “Coach’s orders,” “It’s for the tournament,” “I’m sore from training.” But she wasn’t stupid. She saw how he avoided her touch, how he never got hard when she tried to initiate, how his eyes darted to his phone every few minutes like he was waiting for a bomb to drop.By day 11, she stopped trying to seduce him. She just looked at him with quiet hurt. “You’re shutting me out,” she said one night. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”He didn’t have an answer.Day 12: They fought in the kitchen. She reached for him while he was making coffee; he stepped back. She snapped. “What the hell, Krish? You act like I’m disgusting or something.”“It’s not you,” he said. “It’s this thing. I can’t… I can’t do anything with it on.”“Then take it off!” she yelled. “You’re choosing some stupid coach’s rule over us?”He couldn’t look at her. “I can’t. Not yet.”She stormed out. Slept in the guest room.Day 13: Silence. She ate alone. He ate alone. They moved around each other like strangers in their own home. He checked his phone obsessively. Still no reply from Arham. The cage felt tighter every day — not physically, but mentally. The constant pressure, the leaking, the inability to get fully hard, the fear that someone would notice. He barely went to the gym anymore. Posted old footage instead of filming new reels.Day 14: Another fight. She found him on the couch in loose undies again, legs spread, staring at his phone. She stood in front of him.“You’re not even trying,” she said. “You don’t touch me. You don’t talk to me. You just sit there like a ghost. What happened to you?”He looked up, eyes tired. “I’m trying to keep everything together. For the tournament. For us.”“For us?” she laughed bitterly. “This isn’t us. This is you hiding something and me begging for scraps.”She walked away. He didn’t follow.Day 15: Morning.Prerna came into the living room where Krishnansh was sitting on the couch in just his loose undies, arms up behind his head, legs spread wide, staring blankly at the wall. The cage was visible as a faint, unnatural bulge under the fabric.She stood in front of him, arms crossed.“I’m done,” she said.Krishnansh looked up, startled. “What?”“I’m giving you an ultimatum,” she said, voice steady but eyes shining with tears. “Get that thing removed today. Right now. Go to the doctor, cut it off, whatever. I don’t care. But if you come home tonight still wearing it, we’re over. I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t be with someone who won’t even let me touch him, who won’t tell me what’s going on, who’s basically shut me out of his life.”Krishnansh felt the air leave his lungs. “Prerna… please… it’s not that simple…”“It is that simple,” she said. “Choose. The cage or me. Today.”She grabbed her bag and walked out. The door slammed behind her.Krishnansh sat frozen on the couch. His mind was blank. One month had felt impossible. But losing Prerna felt worse.He picked up his phone with shaking hands.Opened the chat with the unknown number — the doctor.He typed one word.“Hey”He hit send.And waited.The cage felt heavier than ever.He didn’t know what he was going to do.But he knew he couldn’t lose her.
Here’s how Arham replies to Krishnansh’s desperate “hey” message — cold, manipulative, perfectly calculated to tighten the noose while keeping Krishnansh emotionally hooked and obedient.Message from Arham :
“Hey yourself, good bull
I was wondering how long it would take you to break and message me first. Saw you’re still wearing it — smart boy. That little cage looks good on you. Keeps everything… safe. Prerna giving you trouble yet? I bet she is. She wants her man back, doesn’t she? The one who used to fuck her hard, make her scream, fill her up. But you can’t do that anymore, can you? Not with my lock on you. You’re already leaking just thinking about it, aren’t you? Here’s the deal, since you finally reached out: You have two choices. Keep the cage on like a good boy for the full month. Come back on the last day. Deliver all 10 loads in one session. Do that, and I delete everything — videos, photos, the cum samples. You walk away clean. Free bird.
Come back early. Anytime. But only if you’re ready to give me 10 full, thick loads in ONE sitting. No breaks. No excuses. If you fail — even one load short — the lock stays on for TWO months instead. And I start sharing teasers. Just clips. Just enough to make people ask questions.
So tell me, Krish…
How bad do you want your freedom?
How many days can you pretend everything’s normal with Prerna while your cock is locked and aching for release? I’m waiting.
Come alone.
Wear something tight. No underwear.
You know the address. See you soon, bull. ”Krishnansh stared at the message, hands shaking so badly the phone almost slipped. The words burned into his brain.He felt sick.
He felt trapped.
He felt the cage tighten even though it physically hadn’t moved.He didn’t reply right away.But he knew he would.Because he had no other choice.
He typed one line.“I’m ready.”He hit send before he could overthink it.The reply came almost instantly.“Good bull
Come tonight. 8 PM. Same address.
Wear something tight again. No underwear.
Don’t be late.”Krishnansh exhaled shakily. He looked at the time — 4:30 PM. Three and a half hours. Enough time to lie to Prerna again, enough time to panic, enough time to hate himself.He told her he had a last-minute sponsor meeting. She looked at him with tired eyes, nodded without arguing, and went back to her phone. He changed into a fresh black compression shirt and tight grey shorts — no underwear, just like Arham wanted. The shorts clung to his quads and the cage outline was faintly visible if anyone looked too close. He didn’t care anymore. He just wanted it over.The auto ride felt shorter this time. He arrived at 7:55 PM. The same quiet building. The same ground-floor flat.He rang the bell.Arham opened the door almost immediately, smiling like they were old friends.“Krishnansh,” he said warmly. “Come in. Right on time.”Krishnansh stepped inside. The door closed behind him. The flat smelled the same — sandalwood, something clean and metallic underneath.Arham looked him over slowly, eyes lingering on the compression shirt stretched tight over his pecs, the shorts hugging his quads and the obvious cage bulge in front.“You look good,” Arham said. “Tight clothes suit you. Makes everything… very visible.”Krishnansh swallowed. “I’m here. Let’s just… do whatever you need to do. Ten loads. Then delete everything. Like you promised.”Arham nodded, still smiling. “Of course. We’ll get to that. But first — sit. Let’s talk.”He gestured to the couch in the living room. Krishnansh sat stiffly on the edge, legs together, hands on his knees. Arham sat across from him, relaxed, one leg crossed over the other.“How have you been holding up?” Arham asked casually. “The cage treating you okay? Any leaks? Any… accidents?”Krishnansh looked down. “It’s… hard. It hurts sometimes. I can’t sleep properly. Can’t… be with Prerna.”Arham nodded like he understood. “She’s frustrated, I bet. Wants her man back. Wants to feel you inside her again. But you can’t give her that right now, can you?”Krishnansh’s jaw tightened. “No.”Arham leaned forward slightly. “That’s why you’re here tonight. To finish what you started. Ten loads. One session. Then you’re free. Videos gone. Cage off. You go back to your life — Prerna, football, reels, all of it.”Krishnansh looked up. “You promise?”Arham’s smile didn’t waver. “I promise. But you have to deliver. Every single load. No quitting. No stopping. You give me ten, and I keep my word.”Krishnansh nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll do it.”Arham stood up. “Good. Then let’s get started.”He walked toward the hallway — the same one that led to the room Krishnansh remembered from last time.“Come,” Arham said over his shoulder. “We have a lot of work to do tonight.”Krishnansh stood up, legs unsteady. He followed Arham down the hall, heart pounding.The door at the end opened.The same red-lit room. The same suspension rig. The same BDSM chair. The same tools on the table — ropes, paddles, clamps, toys.Arham turned to him, eyes calm.“Strip,” he said simply.Krishnansh hesitated only for a second.Then he started undressing.
The room looked the same — but there was one new addition tonight: the milking chair. Black leather, reclined slightly, with thick padded restraints for wrists, ankles, and thighs. Adjustable arms and leg spreaders that could lift and stretch the legs high and wide, leaving the cock and hole completely exposed and accessible. It looked like a medical chair crossed with something far more sinister.Arham gestured toward it. “Sit.”Krishnansh hesitated. His voice was small. “I… I don’t want this.”Arham’s tone stayed calm, almost patient. “You already said yes. You’re here. You want the videos gone. You want to be free. Sit.”Krishnansh swallowed hard. He walked to the chair on unsteady legs and sat. The leather was cool against his bare skin. Arham moved quickly — efficient, practiced. He fastened soft leather cuffs around Krishnansh’s wrists, pulling his arms behind the chair back and locking them together. Then the ankles — cuffs around each one, connected to the spreader bars. Arham lifted Krishnansh’s legs high, spreading them wide, knees bent slightly, thighs pulled apart until his hole and caged cock were fully on display. The position left him reclined, ass slightly lifted, everything vulnerable and open.Krishnansh’s breathing quickened. “This… this is too much. Please…”Arham ignored the plea. He stepped back, eyes roaming over Krishnansh’s bound body — pecs rising and falling rapidly, abs tense, quads stretched taut, caged cock trapped and straining, hole exposed and twitching slightly in the cool air.“Perfect,” Arham murmured. “Just like this.”He walked to the tripod already set up a few feet away. He adjusted the phone angle so it captured everything — Krishnansh’s face, his bound arms, his spread legs, the cage, the hole. He hit record. The red light blinked on.Krishnansh’s eyes widened. “No… turn it off. Please… don’t record again…”Arham turned to him, voice steady. “If you pass — if you give me all ten loads tonight — everything gets deleted. All videos. All proof. You walk out free. But if you fail… if you can’t deliver… this video becomes an add-on. A bonus for the buyers. They’ll love seeing you like this — helpless, begging, caged, broken.”Krishnansh’s breath hitched. Tears pricked his eyes again. “I… I can’t… I don’t know if I can do ten…”Arham stepped closer, hand resting lightly on Krishnansh’s thigh.“You promised,” he said quietly. “You begged for this chance. Now you get it. Ten loads. One session. No stopping. No mercy. You give them to me, or the videos multiply.”He leaned in, fingers brushing Krishnansh’s caged cock through the bars — a light tease that made Krishnansh whimper.“Let’s begin,” Arham said.He reached for the keys to the chastity cage.
Instead of opening his lock, Arham stepped behind Krishnansh, his presence warm and heavy in the dim red light of the room. Krishnansh was still bound in the milking chair — wrists locked behind his back, legs lifted high and spread wide by the padded restraints, hips tilted upward, everything exposed. The chastity cage gleamed coldly around his cock, the metal tube trapping his shaft downward, the ring pressing tight behind his balls. Krishnansh’s breathing was already uneven, his body tense from the position and the fear of what came next.Arham didn’t speak at first. He simply placed both hands on Krishnansh’s back, sliding them slowly upward until his palms covered the thick, rounded pecs. His fingers spread wide, gripping the heavy muscle firmly. Krishnansh sucked in a sharp breath — the touch was warm, possessive, and far too familiar.“These pecs,” Arham murmured, voice low against Krishnansh’s ear. “So full. So perfect. No wonder your fans can’t stop staring.”He squeezed — slow, deliberate, thumbs digging into the meat just below the nipples. Krishnansh’s body jerked slightly in the restraints, a soft grunt escaping him. Arham’s fingers moved to the nipples themselves — already tender from the earlier clamps — and began to tease. Light pinches at first, rolling the dark buds between thumb and forefinger, then harder tugs, pulling them outward until Krishnansh hissed.“Feel that?” Arham whispered. “How sensitive they are. How every little pull goes straight to your cock.”Krishnansh’s breathing hitched. He tried to shift away, but the restraints held him open and helpless. Inside the cage, his cock started to swell — the blood rushing in, the shaft pushing against the tight metal bars. The pressure built fast — painful, trapped, the cage stretching to its limit as his erection fought for space that wasn’t there.Arham kept teasing — pinching harder, twisting slightly, then soothing with slow circles of his thumbs. He leaned in closer, lips brushing Krishnansh’s ear.“You’re getting hard already,” he said. “I can feel it. Your cock is trying so hard to grow, but the cage won’t let it. It’s stretching… hurting… but you can’t stop it, can you?”Krishnansh whimpered. The ache in his cock was sharp now — the metal digging into his swelling shaft, the head pressing painfully against the end of the tube. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, dripping down the bars.“Please…” Krishnansh begged, voice cracking. “Open it… it hurts… take it off… please…”Arham chuckled softly, low and dark. He pinched both nipples hard at the same time — a sudden, sharp tug that made Krishnansh cry out and arch against the restraints. His cock throbbed violently inside the cage, the metal creaking faintly under the strain as it reached its maximum stretch.“Look at you,” Arham said. “So desperate. Begging already. Your cock is begging too — trying to break free. But it can’t. Not until I say.”He released the nipples, letting them throb, then ran his hands down Krishnansh’s sides — slow, possessive — before stepping back to admire his work. Krishnansh’s pecs were flushed red, nipples swollen and standing out, his cock straining painfully against the cage bars, the head dark and leaking.Arham reached for the small key on the tray.“You want it off?” he asked quietly.Krishnansh nodded frantically. “Yes… please… unlock it… I can’t take it…”Arham held the key up, letting it catch the light.“Then be a good bull,” he said. “And give me what I want.”He leaned in and unlocked the cage — slow, deliberate clicks as the padlock opened. The ring came off first, then the tube slid free. Krishnansh’s cock sprang upward instantly — fully erect in seconds, thick, veiny, the head flushed dark and slick with pre-cum.Krishnansh moaned in relief — and pain — the sudden freedom overwhelming after days of confinement.Arham wrapped his hand around the freed shaft and started stroking — slow, firm, teasing.“Now,” he said. “Let’s see how many loads you can really give me.”Krishnansh whimpered, body trembling in the restraints.The milking had just begun.
Arham stood between his spread thighs, hands slick with fresh oil. He poured a thick stream directly over Krishnansh’s freed cock — the warm oil cascaded down the length, coating every inch, making it glisten under the red lights. It ran over the head, down the veins, dripping off his heavy balls.Krishnansh moaned low — a desperate, needy sound — the sudden freedom overwhelming after so long locked. His cock throbbed hard, bobbing with every heartbeat.Arham wrapped both hands around the shaft — one at the base, one higher up — and started milking with brutal efficiency. No teasing. No slow build. Fast, tight strokes — long pulls from root to tip, wrists twisting so his thumbs ground hard against the underside of the glans. The oil made the motion slick and loud — wet, obscene schlick-schlick sounds filling the room with every pump.Krishnansh’s hips bucked forward as much as the restraints allowed. “Fuck—please—let me cum—!”Arham didn’t slow down. He stroked faster — hands flying over the oiled shaft, thumbs polishing the glans in tight circles on every upstroke, fingers squeezing so hard the veins bulged.“You’re going to cum hard,” Arham said, voice low and commanding. “All over yourself. All over that pretty face. I want it in your mouth too. Open wide.”Krishnansh’s mouth parted automatically — panting, moaning, too far gone to fight. Arham angled the strokes upward, aiming the cock toward Krishnansh’s face. He pumped harder, faster — relentless, milking the shaft with both hands now, thumbs grinding the slit on every pass.Krishnansh’s whole body locked up. A raw, guttural scream tore from his throat as he came — massive, thick ropes shooting out in powerful arcs. The first spurt hit his own face — hot, sticky, landing across his cheek and open mouth. The second and third splattered directly into his mouth, coating his tongue. More ropes painted his pecs, running down the deep center line, dripping over his clamped nipples. The rest hit his chin, his lips, his abs — a huge, messy load that covered him from face to stomach.He kept moaning — loud, broken, desperate — as Arham milked every last drop, hands stroking through the orgasm until Krishnansh was shaking, spent, cum dripping from his chin and pooling on his chest.Arham scooped the thick cum from Krishnansh’s face and chest — fingers gathering the warm, sticky load — and brought it to Krishnansh’s open mouth.“Eat it all,” he ordered.Krishnansh’s lips parted wider. Arham fed him — pushing the cum onto his tongue, making him lick and swallow every glob. Krishnansh gagged softly at the taste — musky, salty, his own release coating his mouth — but he swallowed, tears mixing with the cum on his cheeks.Arham wiped his fingers on Krishnansh’s lower lip.“First load eaten,” he said softly. “Nine more to go.”Krishnansh whimpered, body trembling, cock still twitching, already starting to harden again from the Viagra and the overstimulation.He was still so horny. So ready.The milking had only just begun.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly. “After cumming like that. After all those days locked.”Krishnansh’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Empty… sore… it hurts… but… I needed it…”Arham nodded slowly. “And how many do you think you can give me today? Be honest. Ten was your promise. Do you still believe you can reach it?”Krishnansh’s eyes fluttered shut. His chest rose and fell rapidly. “I… I don’t know… maybe… six… seven… I’m so tired already…”Arham opened his mouth to reply —A sharp knock echoed from the front door.Krishnansh’s eyes snapped open. Panic flashed across his face. “Who… who’s that?”Arham didn’t answer. He simply turned and walked out of the room, leaving Krishnansh bound and exposed, cock still twitching, cum drying on his skin, camera still recording.The knock came again — firmer.Arham opened the front door.A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the hallway — late 30s, expensive watch, dark jacket, eyes bright with anticipation. He carried a small black case and a faint, eager smile.“Dr. Arham,” the man said. “I hope I’m not too early.”Arham stepped aside. “Right on time. Come in.”The man entered, eyes immediately scanning the hallway toward the red-lit room. “Is he… ready?”Arham closed the door. “He just finished his first load. He’s still recovering. But he’s all yours to watch.”The man’s smile widened. “I’ve been waiting for this. Paid good money for the first batch — seeing his face beg on video made it worth every rupee. But live… watching my favorite bull get milked… that’s priceless.”Arham gestured toward the room. “He’s in there. Fully restrained. Caged until a moment ago. You can watch from the doorway — or come closer if you want.”The man followed Arham back to the milking chair room. He stopped in the doorway, eyes locking on Krishnansh.Krishnansh’s heart stopped. He recognized the man instantly — one of his biggest fans from Instagram. The guy who commented on almost every shirtless reel: “Those pecs are unreal ”, “Bull mode activated ”, “When’s the next quad drop?” — always with fire emojis and heart eyes. He had DM’d Krishnansh multiple times, always polite, always thirsty.Now he was here.Staring.At Krishnansh — naked, bound, legs spread, cum streaked across his face and body, cock still semi-hard and glistening, nipple clamps pulling his pecs taut.The man’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit… it’s really you. Krishnansh. My bull.”Krishnansh’s voice cracked. “No… please… don’t look…”The man stepped closer, ignoring the plea. “Look at you. All tied up. Leaking. Marked. Those pecs… even better in person. And that cock… fuck, it’s perfect.”Arham stood to the side, calm. “He’s just given his first load. We’re working on the next nine. You can watch. Maybe even help if he needs motivation.”The man licked his lips. “I’d love to.”Krishnansh whimpered. “Please… don’t… send him away… I’ll do anything…”Arham smiled softly. “You’re already doing anything. And you’re going to keep doing it. Ten loads. Remember?”He stepped back to the milking chair and wrapped his hand around Krishnansh’s cock again — slow, firm strokes starting to build him back up.The fan watched, eyes hungry.
Arham turned to the fan standing in the doorway, the man's eyes wide and hungry as he took in the sight of Krishnansh bound and helpless in the milking chair."Come here," Arham said, voice calm but commanding. "Go behind him. Tease those pecs and nipples. Make him feel it. I want him desperate for the second load."The fan didn't hesitate. He stepped forward eagerly, moving behind the chair. His hands were already trembling with excitement as they reached around Krishnansh’s torso. He placed both palms flat on the massive pecs — warm, rough fingers spreading wide over the thick muscle. Krishnansh flinched at the touch, a sharp intake of breath escaping him."God damn," the fan muttered under his breath, voice thick with awe. "These are even better up close. So fucking full… so heavy…"He started kneading — slow, greedy squeezes at first, fingers digging deep into the meat, thumbs brushing the swollen, clamped nipples. Then he got bolder. He pinched the left nipple between thumb and forefinger — rolling it hard, tugging the clamp chain just enough to stretch the bud outward. Krishnansh moaned low, body jerking in the restraints. The fan laughed softly, thrilled."Look at these tits bounce," he said, voice rough. "All that gym work… all for this. For me to play with."He slapped the right pec — not too hard, but sharp enough to make the muscle jiggle. Then again. And again. Alternating sides, watching the red handprints bloom across the smooth skin. His other hand kept squeezing, massaging, fingers tracing the deep center line between the pecs, then circling the clamped nipples in tight, teasing spirals.Krishnansh’s head fell back, a broken whimper escaping. "Please… stop… too much…"The fan ignored him, too lost in the moment. He leaned down and bit the side of one pec — not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave teeth marks. Then licked the same spot slowly, tongue dragging over the muscle. His hands never stopped — squeezing, slapping, pinching, pulling the chain so both nipples stretched painfully outward.Meanwhile Arham stood between Krishnansh’s spread thighs. He wrapped both oiled hands around the freed, throbbing cock again — one at the base, one higher up — and started milking with steady, relentless strokes. Fast enough to build pressure, slow enough to torture."Feel that?" Arham said, voice low. "Your fan’s hands on those perfect pecs you love showing off. Your cock leaking while he plays with them. You’re going to give me that second load. Right now."Krishnansh’s moans grew louder, more frantic. The fan’s rough hands on his chest, the constant stroking on his cock — it was too much. His hips bucked uselessly against the restraints, the milking chair creaking with the effort."Please… I’m close… please let me cum…"Arham stroked faster — hands flying over the slick shaft, thumbs grinding the glans in tight circles. The fan pulled the nipple chain harder, stretching both buds outward, making Krishnansh arch and scream."Cum," Arham ordered. "Second load. Now."Krishnansh’s body seized. A raw, guttural cry tore from his throat as he came again — thick ropes shooting upward in powerful arcs. The first spurt hit his own open mouth, landing on his tongue. The second and third splattered across his face — cheeks, nose, forehead. More ropes coated his pecs, dripping over the clamped nipples, running down his abs. The fan laughed excitedly, hands still squeezing Krishnansh’s chest as the load rained down.When the spurts slowed to dribbles, Arham milked the last drops out with slow, firm strokes.The fan stepped back slightly, eyes gleaming."Make him eat it," Arham said to the fan. "All of it."The fan grinned. He scooped thick globs from Krishnansh’s face and chest — fingers gathering the warm, sticky cum — and pushed them into Krishnansh’s open mouth."Eat your load, bull," the fan said, voice rough with lust. "Every drop. You made it. Now swallow."Krishnansh’s lips closed around the fingers. He sucked weakly, swallowing the salty mess while tears ran down his cum-streaked cheeks. The fan fed him more — from his pecs, from his chin, from his abs — until Krishnansh had licked and swallowed every bit he could reach.When it was done, the fan wiped his fingers on Krishnansh’s lower lip."Good boy," Arham said softly. "Second load eaten. Eight more to go."Krishnansh whimpered, head dropping forward, body shaking.The fan stared, mesmerized.Arham smiled."Ready for the next one?"
“Get in front of him,” Arham said quietly. “Pull his head back. Smooch him. Deep. Keep your mouth on his until he gives me the third load.”The fan’s grin widened instantly. “Fuck yes.”Krishnansh’s eyes snapped wide. “No… wait… no… I’ve never… I don’t kiss guys… please… don’t—”His voice cracked, high and panicked. He tried to twist his head away, but the restraints held his body rigid — wrists locked behind the chair, legs hoisted high and spread, hips tilted up, cock throbbing upright and leaking. There was nowhere to go.Arham ignored the plea. “You’re going to take it. Every second. Until you cum again.”The fan stepped around to the front, towering over Krishnansh. He grabbed a fistful of Krishnansh’s hair at the back of his head and yanked hard — pulling his face up and back, exposing his throat and mouth. Krishnansh whimpered, lips trembling.“No… please… don’t—”The fan didn’t wait. He leaned down and crushed his mouth against Krishnansh’s in a deep, aggressive smooch. His tongue forced its way past Krishnansh’s lips immediately — hot, wet, invading. Krishnansh’s muffled cry vibrated against the fan’s mouth. He tried to turn his head, but the grip on his hair was iron. The fan kissed harder, tongue sliding deep, tasting him, owning him.At the same time Arham knelt between Krishnansh’s spread thighs. He wrapped both oiled hands around the throbbing cock and started milking again — fast, tight strokes, thumbs grinding the sensitive glans on every upstroke. The oil made the motion slick and loud, wet schlick-schlick filling the room.Krishnansh could only whimper into the fan’s mouth — high, broken, helpless sounds muffled by the relentless kiss. The fan’s tongue fucked his mouth in rhythm with Arham’s strokes, one hand still tangled in Krishnansh’s hair, the other sliding down to squeeze his pecs hard.“You taste so good,” the fan growled against his lips, barely pulling back before diving in again. “My favorite bull… finally getting what he deserves.”Krishnansh’s body jerked — hips trying to buck away from Arham’s hands, neck straining against the fan’s grip. The dual assault was too much: the deep, wet kiss filling his mouth, the fast milking on his oversensitive cock, the constant pull on his clamped nipples from the chain. Pre-cum poured out in thick drops, mixing with the oil.Arham stroked harder — hands twisting, thumbs pressing the slit open on every pass.“Give me the third load,” Arham said. “Cum while he kisses you. Cum like the slut you are.”The fan moaned into Krishnansh’s mouth, tongue plunging deeper, free hand pinching a clamped nipple and tugging the chain.Krishnansh’s muffled whimpers turned frantic — high-pitched, pleading. His cock swelled impossibly harder in Arham’s grip.Then his body locked up.A choked, desperate scream vibrated against the fan’s lips as he came — thick ropes shooting upward in powerful arcs. The first spurt hit his own chin and lips, some landing inside his open mouth while the fan kept kissing him. More ropes splattered his pecs, dripping over the clamps, running down his abs. The fan laughed low against Krishnansh’s mouth, tongue still moving, tasting the cum that had landed there.Arham milked him through every pulse — slow, firm strokes until the last drops were squeezed out.When it was over, the fan finally pulled back — a thin string of spit and cum connecting their lips for a second before breaking.Krishnansh gasped for air, tears streaming, face flushed and streaked with his own load.The fan licked his lips, grinning. “Tastes even better fresh.”Arham scooped the cum from Krishnansh’s face and chest — fingers gathering the warm, sticky mess — and pushed it into Krishnansh’s open mouth.“Eat,” he ordered.Krishnansh swallowed weakly — gagging softly, tears falling faster — but he took every drop.“Third load down,” Arham said quietly. “Seven more to go.”Krishnansh whimpered, head dropping forward, body shaking.The fan stared, mesmerized.The camera kept rolling.
Arham walked to the side table and picked up a long string of anal beads — thick, black silicone, eight large spheres graduating in size, the biggest one almost the width of a fist, with a ring pull at the end. He lubed them generously, coating each bead until they shone.The fan watched eagerly from behind the chair, hands still resting on Krishnansh’s shoulders.Arham held the beads up so Krishnansh could see them. “For your fourth load,” he said quietly. “These go inside you. All of them. They’ll stretch you wide and press your prostate from the inside while I milk you.”Krishnansh’s eyes widened. “No… please… they’re too big… I can’t take that…”Arham didn’t reply. He knelt between Krishnansh’s spread thighs and pressed the smallest bead against his slick, puffy hole. Krishnansh whimpered as it popped in — then the next, and the next. Each bead stretched him wider, the pressure building deep inside. When the fourth bead slid past the rim, Krishnansh cried out, hips jerking against the restraints.“Relax,” Arham said. “Breathe. Let them fill you.”He kept pushing — slow, relentless — until the fifth, sixth, seventh bead disappeared inside. The eighth — the biggest — took the longest. Krishnansh screamed as it breached him, the stretch burning, his hole clenching around the thick sphere. The ring pull hung out, beads fully seated, pressing hard against his prostate from the inside.Krishnansh sobbed. “Too full… take them out… please…”Arham ignored him. He turned to the fan. “Your turn. Attach the chained clamps to his nipples. Stretch them back as hard as you can. I want him arched and desperate.”The fan grinned. He grabbed a fresh set of chained clamps from the table — heavier ones, with adjustable screws. He leaned over Krishnansh from behind, pinching the left nipple hard until it stood erect, then screwed the clamp on tight. Krishnansh hissed in pain. The fan did the same to the right nipple, tightening until both were pinched painfully.Then he grabbed the chain connecting the clamps and pulled it backward — hard — stretching Krishnansh’s nipples outward and up. Krishnansh’s back arched sharply, pecs thrusting forward, a raw cry escaping him. The fan kept pulling, tying the chain to a hook behind the chair so the tension stayed constant — nipples stretched long and thin, pecs lifted and trembling.Krishnansh’s moans turned frantic. “Please… it hurts… too much…”Arham knelt again and wrapped both oiled hands around Krishnansh’s cock. He started milking — fast, tight strokes from base to tip, thumbs grinding the glans hard. At the same time he tugged the anal beads ring gently — not pulling them out yet, just rocking them inside, making the largest bead press and roll against the prostate.Krishnansh screamed — the combination was overwhelming: stretched nipples pulling his pecs taut, thick beads filling his ass, hands milking his cock relentlessly. His cock throbbed painfully, pre-cum pouring out.“I can’t… I’m gonna cum… please… stop…”Arham stroked faster. “Cum. Fourth load. Give it to me.”The fan pulled the chain harder — nipples stretching even more. Krishnansh’s body seized. A broken scream tore from his throat as he came — weaker than before, thinner spurts shooting across his lower chest and abs in short, desperate pulses. The load was smaller, but still thick enough to coat his skin in fresh white streaks.When the pulses stopped, Arham milked the last drops out with slow, firm strokes.The fan released the chain slightly, letting Krishnansh’s nipples snap back. Krishnansh sobbed, head dropping forward.Arham scooped the cum from his lower chest and abs — fingers gathering the warm mess — and brought it to Krishnansh’s lips.“Eat.”Krishnansh opened his mouth weakly. Arham fed him every drop — pushing the cum onto his tongue, making him lick and swallow. Krishnansh gagged softly, tears falling, but he took it all.“Fourth load eaten,” Arham said quietly. “Six more to go.”Krishnansh whimpered. “I can’t… please… no more…”Arham smiled. “You will. You have to.”The fan watched, eyes gleaming.
Krishnansh’s body sagged in the milking chair, every muscle quivering from exhaustion. His chest rose and fell in short, ragged bursts, pecs still flushed and swollen from the clamps, abs slick with sweat and the drying remnants of his previous loads. His cock — raw, oversensitive, barely half-hard now — hung limply between his spread thighs, the head dark and tender. Cum from the fourth load streaked his lower abs in thin trails. Tears ran silently down his face. He felt hollow. Drained. Completely spent.“I’m done…” he whispered, voice cracked and weak. “I can’t… no more… please… I can’t deliver anymore…”Arham stood between his legs, eyes calm but unyielding. He reached down and grabbed Krishnansh’s softening cock in a firm grip — not stroking yet, just holding it.“You think you’re done?” Arham asked quietly. “You promised ten. You begged for ten. You’re not done until I say you are.”Before Krishnansh could reply, Arham raised his free hand and brought it down hard — a sharp, stinging slap directly across the sensitive cock shaft.Krishnansh screamed — high and broken — hips jerking against the restraints. The impact echoed in the room, the slick skin making the slap louder.Arham slapped again. And again. Five quick, brutal hits — alternating along the shaft, the head, the underside. Each one made Krishnansh’s body convulse, tears falling faster, voice turning into frantic pleas.“Stop—please—hurts—can’t—!”Arham paused, hand still gripping the now-reddened cock.“Tell me you can give more,” he said. “Tell me you can deliver ten. Say it.”Krishnansh sobbed, head thrashing. The pain was sharp, searing, but the fear of what would happen if he quit was worse.“I… I can…” he choked out. “I can give more… ten… I’ll try…”Arham’s smile was small, satisfied. “Good boy.”He released the cock for a second, letting it hang, then poured fresh oil over it — warm, slick, coating the abused shaft. Krishnansh whimpered at the touch, body too sensitive to handle even the oil.Arham wrapped both hands around the cock again and started stroking — slower this time, deliberate, building the sensation from nothing. Krishnansh’s cock responded reluctantly — thickening inch by inch, the head swelling back to dark red. The strokes were firm, thumbs circling the glans on every upstroke, fingers squeezing the shaft to force blood in.It took longer this time. Krishnansh was spent — body exhausted, mind numb. Minutes stretched into agony as Arham worked him relentlessly — slow strokes turning faster, then slowing again, edging him without mercy. Krishnansh moaned — low, broken, defeated — hips twitching uselessly against the restraints.“Please… I’m trying… it’s so hard… please let me cum…”Arham didn’t answer. He just kept milking — hands flying now, twisting at the head, grinding thumbs into the slit. Krishnansh’s cock throbbed painfully, pre-cum leaking in thick drops.Finally — after what felt like forever — Krishnansh’s body locked up. A weak, hoarse cry escaped him as the fifth load spilled out — thinner, smaller spurts landing across his lower abs in short, pitiful pulses. His cock pulsed weakly, milking out the last drops while Arham stroked through it slowly.When it was over, Krishnansh collapsed back, sobbing quietly.Arham scooped the cum from his abs — fingers gathering the warm mess — and brought it to Krishnansh’s lips.“Eat.”Krishnansh opened his mouth without protest. Arham fed him every drop — pushing the cum onto his tongue, making him swallow. Krishnansh gagged softly, tears falling, but he took it all.“Five loads,” Arham said quietly. “Five down. Five more to go.”Krishnansh’s voice was barely audible. “Please… no more… I can’t… I’m empty… let me go…”Arham wiped his hand on Krishnansh’s thigh.“You’re not empty yet,” he said. “Your cock is still responding. Your body still wants it. You’ll give me five more. Or the videos stay. The buyers get more. Prerna sees everything.”Krishnansh closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks.He begged — soft, broken whispers — but Arham didn’t stop.
Arham stood between his spread legs, hands still slick with oil. He wrapped them around Krishnansh’s cock again — slow, firm strokes starting to build the sensation from almost nothing.Krishnansh whimpered immediately. “No… please… I’m done… I can’t… let me go back… lock me again… double time… I’ll take it… just stop…”Arham’s strokes stayed steady — not fast, but relentless.“You could,” Arham said quietly. “I could lock the cage back on right now. Two months instead of one. You’d walk out today — free from this chair, free from milking. But the videos stay. The buyers keep watching. Prerna might never know… or she might. You’d live with that fear every day.”Krishnansh sobbed, head dropping forward. The thought of two months caged was torture — the hiding, the lies, the constant ache. But the thought of more loads here, now, was worse.He fought with himself — emotions crashing: shame, fear, desperation for freedom, the faint, traitorous pulse in his cock that still responded to the strokes.“I… I’ll try…” he whispered. “Ten… I’ll reach ten…”Arham smiled faintly. “Good choice.”He turned to the fan, who had been watching eagerly from behind the chair.“Your turn,” Arham said. “Milk out the sixth load for me. Hands and mouth. Make him give it.”The fan stepped forward instantly, eyes gleaming. He knelt between Krishnansh’s spread thighs, hands sliding up the oiled quads before wrapping around the semi-hard cock.“Fuck… you’re still so thick,” the fan muttered. “My favorite bull… gonna milk you dry.”He started stroking — firm, steady pulls with both hands, thumbs circling the glans on every upstroke. Then he leaned in and took the head into his mouth — hot, wet, tongue swirling around the sensitive tip while his hands kept pumping the shaft.Krishnansh moaned — low, defeated. The mouth felt different — warm, sucking, tongue flicking the slit — and his cock responded despite everything. It hardened slowly, painfully, swelling in the fan’s mouth and hands.The fan sucked harder, bobbing his head, taking more of the shaft while one hand stroked the base and the other squeezed Krishnansh’s balls. The other hand occasionally reached up to tug the nipple chain, stretching the clamped buds and making Krishnansh arch and cry out.It took a long time. Krishnansh was spent — body exhausted, mind numb. Minutes stretched into agony as the fan worked him — mouth sucking deep, tongue pressing the underside, hands stroking and squeezing. Krishnansh whimpered constantly, hips twitching uselessly against the restraints.“Please… I can’t… it’s too much… I’m trying…”Arham watched calmly. “Keep going. He’s close. Make him give it.”The fan doubled his efforts — sucking harder, stroking faster, tugging the chain to stretch the nipples. Krishnansh’s moans turned frantic — high, pleading.“I’m… I’m gonna cum… please… let me…”Arham leaned in. “Cum. Sixth load. Now.”Krishnansh’s body seized. A weak, hoarse cry escaped him as he came — thin, watery spurts shooting across his lower abs in short, pitiful pulses. The fan pulled off just in time, letting the load land on Krishnansh’s skin while he milked the last drops with his hand.When it was over, Krishnansh collapsed back, sobbing quietly.Arham scooped the cum from his abs — fingers gathering the small amount — and brought it to Krishnansh’s lips.“Eat.”Krishnansh opened his mouth weakly. Arham fed him every drop — pushing the cum onto his tongue, making him swallow. Krishnansh gagged softly, tears falling, but he took it all.“Six loads,” Arham said quietly. “Four more to go.”Krishnansh whimpered. “I can’t… please… no more…”Arham wiped his hand on Krishnansh’s thigh.“You’ll give them,” he said. “You have to.”
“You want to go home now, don’t you?” Arham said softly. “Walk out that door. Back to Prerna. Back to your reels. Back to pretending you’re still the same strong, straight bull everyone worships.”Krishnansh nodded weakly, voice cracked. “Yes… please… let me go… I can’t… no more…”Arham’s hand moved suddenly — a sharp, open-palmed slap across Krishnansh’s left cheek. The crack echoed in the room. Krishnansh’s head snapped to the side, a fresh whimper escaping him.“Look at the camera,” Arham said, voice low and hard. “Look at it.”He slapped the right cheek — harder — forcing Krishnansh’s face forward. The lens stared back at him — red light blinking, recording every tear, every tremble, every broken breath.“You don’t get to leave yet,” Arham said. “You promised ten loads. You begged for ten loads. You said you’d do anything for your freedom. And you’re going to give them to me. Every single one. Because if you quit now, this video joins the others. Your face begging. Your cock leaking. Your cum on your own face. And I send it. To one buyer first. Then another. Then maybe to your followers. Maybe to Prerna. Maybe to everyone.”He slapped Krishnansh’s face again — lighter this time, but enough to make his cheek sting and his eyes water more.“You’re not done,” Arham continued. “You’re my bull. My perfect, leaking, desperate bull. And bulls don’t quit. Bulls give everything. So you’re going to give me seven. Then eight. Then nine. Then ten. And after every load, you’re going to thank me. Understand?”Krishnansh sobbed, head jerking with each slap, but he couldn’t look away from the camera. The lens stared back — cold, unblinking.“Yes…” he whispered. “I… I understand… I’ll try…”Arham smiled faintly. “Good boy.”He poured fresh oil over Krishnansh’s cock — warm, slick, coating the raw shaft. Krishnansh whimpered at the touch, body too sensitive to handle even the oil. Arham wrapped both hands around the cock and started stroking — slow at first, then building to a steady, relentless rhythm. Thumbs grinding the glans, fingers squeezing the shaft, pulling the skin tight on every upstroke.“You feel that?” Arham said, voice dark and commanding. “Your cock is still responding. Even after six loads. Even when it hurts. It’s hard again already. Leaking for me. You’re such a good little milk slut. You love this. You love being forced to cum over and over until you break.”Krishnansh moaned — low, defeated. His cock swelled in Arham’s hands, the head flushing dark again. The overstimulation was unbearable — pleasure and pain twisting together until he couldn’t tell them apart.“Please… I’m trying… it’s so hard… please let me cum…”Arham stroked faster — hands flying over the slick shaft, thumbs pressing the slit open on every pass.“Beg for it,” Arham said. “Beg for your seventh load. Tell the camera how much you need to be milked again.”Krishnansh’s voice broke. “Please… milk me… seventh load… I need it… I’m begging… please…”Arham’s hands sped up — tight, fast, twisting at the head.“Cum,” he ordered. “Seventh load. Now.”Krishnansh’s body seized. A weak, hoarse cry escaped him as he came — thin, watery spurts shooting across his lower abs in short, pitiful pulses. His cock pulsed painfully, milking out the last drops while Arham stroked through it slowly.When it was over, Krishnansh collapsed back, sobbing quietly.Arham scooped the cum from his abs — fingers gathering the small amount — and brought it to Krishnansh’s lips.“Eat.”Krishnansh opened his mouth weakly. Arham fed him every drop — pushing the cum onto his tongue, making him swallow. Krishnansh gagged softly, tears falling, but he took it all.“Seven loads,” Arham said quietly. “Three more to go.”Krishnansh whimpered. “Please… no more… I can’t…”Arham wiped his hand on Krishnansh’s thigh.
Arham poured one last generous stream of oil over the tender length. The slick liquid ran down the shaft and dripped off the head. He wrapped both hands around it — one at the base, one higher — and began the familiar rhythm: slow, firm strokes at first, trying to coax life back into the exhausted organ.Krishnansh barely reacted. His head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded, unfocused. A weak, defeated whimper escaped him when Arham's thumbs brushed the glans.“Please…” he rasped, voice cracked and barely audible. “No more… I’m finished… there’s nothing left… it hurts… everything hurts…”Arham kept stroking — steady, mechanical, refusing to let the pace drop.“You’re not finished,” he said quietly. “You promised ten. You’re at seven. Three more. You can do this. Your body still has it. You just need to push.”Krishnansh shook his head slowly, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. “I can’t… I swear… there’s no cum left… my balls are empty… my dick is burning… I’m begging you… stop… lock me again… double the time… I’ll take it… just stop…”Arham’s hands didn’t falter. He stroked faster now — tight, insistent pulls, thumbs grinding the oversensitive head in small circles. Krishnansh’s cock twitched weakly inside the grip, trying to respond but failing. The shaft stayed soft, the head throbbing with pain instead of pleasure.“Look at me,” Arham said.When Krishnansh didn’t, Arham reached up and slapped his face — not hard, but sharp enough to make him flinch and open his eyes.“Look at the camera,” Arham ordered, turning Krishnansh’s chin toward the tripod. The red light blinked steadily.Krishnansh stared into the lens — face wrecked, tears streaming, lips trembling.“Tell it,” Arham said softly. “Tell the camera you quit. Tell it you lost. Say you couldn’t deliver ten loads. Say you’re giving up. Say the videos stay forever.”Krishnansh’s voice broke on a sob. He tried to speak, but only a choked whimper came out at first. Arham slapped his cheek again — lighter, but enough to jolt him.“Say it.”Krishnansh’s lips trembled. Fresh tears spilled over.“I… I quit…” he whispered to the camera. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t give ten loads… I lost… I’m done… please… the videos… keep them… I give up…”His voice cracked completely on the last words. He dropped his head forward as far as the restraints allowed, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.Arham released his cock and stepped back.He let the silence stretch for several long seconds.
“You didn’t make it to eight,” Arham said quietly. “You quit at seven. That means the cage goes back on. Two months. No release. No mercy.”Krishnansh’s head dropped forward. Tears dripped onto his chest. “Please… I can’t… two months… Prerna will leave me… she gave me an ultimatum today… remove it or she’s gone… please… I’m begging you…”Arham tilted his head, considering.Then he smiled — slow, knowing.“I’ll give you an option,” he said. “One chance to earn a day free from the cage. One day to fuck Prerna as hard and as many times as you want. Make her happy. Save your relationship. But there’s a condition.”Krishnansh lifted his head, eyes glassy with hope and fear. “What… what condition?”Arham leaned in close.“You fuck her in a hotel room. Tomorrow night. I’ll book it. You’ll bring her there. You’ll fuck her like you used to — deep, rough, make her scream. And I’ll watch. Secretly. From the next room. Through a hidden camera. I’ll see everything. Every thrust. Every moan. Every time you fill her. If you do that — if you perform like the bull you pretend to be on Instagram — I’ll unlock the cage for that one day. And I’ll give you another chance later to deliver the remaining loads.”Krishnansh stared at him, horror and desperation warring on his face.“You want me to… fuck my girlfriend… while you watch?”Arham nodded. “Yes. That’s the deal. One day free. One chance to keep her. Or two months locked. And the videos stay forever.”Krishnansh’s lower lip trembled. He thought of Prerna — her hurt eyes, her ultimatum, the way she looked at him like he was a stranger now. He thought of losing her. Losing everything.He closed his eyes. Tears slipped out.“Okay…” he whispered. “I agree. I’ll do it. Just… don’t let her know. Please.”Arham’s smile widened. “Good boy. I’ll send you the hotel details. Tomorrow night. 9 PM. Bring her. Fuck her well. Make it convincing. I’ll be watching.”He reached for the chastity cage on the tray.“But tonight,” Arham said, “you stay locked. Until tomorrow. Consider it motivation.”He fitted the ring behind Krishnansh’s balls again. Slid the tube over the tender shaft. Clicked the padlock shut.Krishnansh whimpered softly as the cage settled back into place — familiar, hated, inescapable.Arham released the restraints one by one. Krishnansh’s limbs fell limp. He slid off the chair onto unsteady legs, body shaking.Arham handed him his clothes.“Go home. Rest. Tomorrow you get one day free. Use it wisely.”Krishnansh dressed in silence — tight shirt, tight shorts, the cage hidden but pressing with every movement.He walked out of the room. Out of the flat. Into the night.He had agreed.To save his relationship.He would fuck Prerna tomorrow night.While Arham watched.And he hated himself more than ever.
Krishnansh stepped into the apartment quietly, the door closing with a soft click that felt too loud in the silence. It was late — past 10 PM — and the living room lamp was the only light on. Prerna was on the couch, legs tucked under her, scrolling her phone in the dim glow. She looked up when she heard him.“Hey…” she said, voice soft but guarded. “You’re late again.”Krishnansh forced a small, tired smile. He dropped his keys on the side table and walked over, sitting beside her. He didn’t touch her right away — just sat close, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “For everything. For pushing you away. For… the cage. For not being honest.”Prerna set her phone down. She studied his face — the dark circles, the tension in his jaw, the way he wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.“You’re scaring me, Krish,” she said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”He took a deep breath. The words felt heavy, rehearsed in his head the whole way home.“Tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve booked a hotel. Just us. A nice room. Romantic. No distractions. No gym, no phone, no… anything. Just you and me. We can spend the night. Make up for everything.”Prerna’s expression softened, but she was still cautious. “A hotel? Why tomorrow? And… the cage?”Krishnansh swallowed. “I’m getting it removed tomorrow. Before we go. I promise. I’ll be… normal again. For you. For us.”She searched his face for a long moment. Then she reached out, fingers brushing his cheek.“You mean it?” she asked quietly. “No more excuses? No more ‘coach’s orders’?”He nodded. “No more. I swear. I just… needed to get through today. But tomorrow — it’s off. And we’ll be together. Like before.”Prerna’s eyes shimmered. She leaned in and kissed him — soft at first, then deeper. Krishnansh kissed her back, arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. For the first time in days, he let himself feel it — her warmth, her scent, the way her body fit against his. He needed this. Needed to feel like himself again, even if it was just for one night.She pulled back slightly, forehead against his. “I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you so much.”“I love you too,” he said, voice thick. “More than anything.”They sat like that for a while — holding each other, breathing together. Then Prerna stood, taking his hand.“Come on,” she said, tugging him toward the bedroom. “Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow’s a new day.”Krishnansh followed her. In the bedroom, she turned off the light. They undressed in the dark — her tank top and shorts, his t-shirt and loose pants. The cage was still on, hidden under the blanket when they slid into bed. Prerna curled against his chest, head on his shoulder, leg thrown over his thigh.She kissed his neck softly. “Tomorrow,” she murmured. “Just us. No more distance.”Krishnansh held her tighter. “Just us.”He stared at the ceiling in the dark, feeling her steady breathing against his skin.Tomorrow he would take her to the hotel.Tomorrow Arham would unlock him — right before the session.Tomorrow Arham would watch from a hidden place — secretly, through a camera, while Krishnansh fucked the woman he loved.The thought made his stomach twist.But he had agreed.To save his relationship.To keep her.Even if it meant giving Arham one more piece of him.He closed his eyes, holding Prerna close.Tomorrow would come soon enough.And he would have to perform.Like the bull Arham kept calling him.
To be continued
