Cuck Night at the Club
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Cuck Night at the Club
The Chastity Contract
Part 2
Jace Thorne
Copyright © 2026 by Jace Thorne
All characters in sexual situations are age 18 and over.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cuck Night at the Club
I woke to the sound of a key turning in the lock.
Light sliced through the gap under the door—morning, maybe 8:00 or 9:00 a.m. My body felt like it had been run over: ass sore and puffy, throat still raw, muscles stiff from kneeling so long on hardwood. The cage was the worst—overnight it had become a constant, dull throb. My balls felt swollen, pressed forward by the ring, heavy with unspent need. Dried cum crusted the insides of my thighs; fresh pre-cum had leaked during fitful sleep and dried in thin trails down the steel tube.
I sat up slowly. Sheets stuck to my skin where cum had leaked out overnight. The room was exactly as I’d left it—small, bare, impersonal. No clock. No window view. Just the single bed, the dresser, the locked door.
The door opened.
A woman in her late forties stepped in. Short dark hair, crisp black blouse and slacks, no-nonsense posture. She carried a small tray: water glass, two painkillers, a protein bar, and a folded towel.
“Housekeeper,” she said flatly. No name. No smile. “You may call me Ms. Reyes. Stand up.”
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Stood naked. The cage swung slightly with the motion, tugging my balls. She didn’t react—just scanned me head to toe like inventory.
“Drink the water. Take the pills. You’ll need them.”
I obeyed. The water was cool, soothing on my scratched throat. Pills went down easy.
She set the tray on the nightstand. “Rules. Listen carefully. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not touch the cage or attempt to stimulate yourself in any way. You will keep yourself clean and groomed at all times—full body shave below the neck every other day. You will eat what is provided. You will sleep when the door is locked. You will address Mr. Ellis as ‘Sir’ or ‘Owner.’ Any other man he designates is ‘Sir.’ Failure to comply results in punishment—corporal, extended denial, or both. Understood?”
“Yes, Ms. Reyes.”
She nodded once. “Shower is through there.” She pointed to a narrow door I hadn’t noticed—almost flush with the wall. “Five minutes. Hot water only. No masturbation. No lingering. I’ll be back with your outfit and instructions for tonight.”
She left. Door locked again.
The shower was tiny—standing stall, no curtain. I stepped under the spray. Hot water stung the raw skin of my hole and throat. I soaped quickly, careful around the cage. The steel gleamed under the water; pre-cum immediately welled again at the tip, mixing with suds and swirling down the drain. I clenched my jaw against the urge to rub, to press, to do anything. Five minutes felt like forever.
When I ...