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“Shizun.” Binghe tugs at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve, turning to glance at him with round, watery eyes. His full, pink bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.
The corners of Shen Qingqiu’s lips turn upwards. “What?”
Binghe averts his gaze, a faint blush blossoming in his cheeks. “It feels funny.”
“Where?”
Sliding his large hand up the length of Shen Qingqiu’s arm, Luo Binghe grasps his husband's wrist through his clothes and guides it down across his abdomen, between his legs.
“So what?” Shen Qingqiu says.
A shudder grips Binghe’s body. He bites back a whimper, a familiar ache pulsing through his cock, which strains against the chilly metal chastity cage enveloping it. “I need…help.”
Leading Binghe out of the bustling market corridor and down a small and dark narrow back alley, Shen Qingqiu squeezes Binghe’s wrist and whispers into his ear. “If you want to get off, then get on your knees like the dog you are.”
Those words make Binghe's knees weak. His legs shake as he kneels down, looking up at Shen Qingqiu with a pleading gaze. “It hurts.”
Shen Qingqiu clicks his tongue. “Even with your cock locked up like this, your libido is still so high...what am I going to do with you, hm?” Leaning down, he caresses the side of Binghe’s face, pressing his warm yet smooth palm to that reddened cheek.
“I can't help it.”
“I know, which is why I’m letting you get yourself off. Go ahead and rub on your shizun, pathetic mutt.”
This time, Binghe can't hold back the whines that threaten to spill from his throat. He almost sobs as he presses his hips against Shen Qingqiu’s leg, grinding on it. The small amount of friction is hardly satisfying, but Binghe knows better than to ask for more. He circles his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and holds himself up.
Such a pitiful sight fills Shen Qingqiu’s heart with a twisted mixture of joy and arousal. It flares up when Binghe lifts his head to look at him, eyes rimmed with tears. He strokes his husband’s cheek, brushing his thumb over Binghe’s long, fluttering lashes. “What?”
“Mm…”
“Quit whining. Use your words.”
Shen Qingqiu’s stern voice makes Binghe’s cock throb even more. He’s so desperate to be touched, to touch himself, to stick his dick in something, anything, but…
He can't. Shen Qingqiu won't let him, and Binghe is addicted to that feeling. He can't help but chase the high of surrender, of being controlled and degraded — humiliated down to his core.
Binghe remembers how two of them had gone to the ocean together a few days after Shen Qingqiu had gifted Binghe that handmade steel chastity cage, perfectly sculpted for his dick. Binghe watched as Shen Qingqiu produced from beneath the collar of his robe a slim silver necklace chain with the key to the cage’s lock strung on it. With a tender smile, Shen Qingqiu cupped his hand around the key and pulled the necklace off, throwing it into the ocean.
Binghe had nearly orgasmed right on the spot. Watching his only hope of salvation disappear into the shimmering, rolling waves, knowing there was no hope of having that frigid, cramped metal enveloping his prick removed any time soon…that memory stokes the flame of arousal inside Binghe even further.
“Lift your robe. I want to see that cute little cock of yours.”
A shudder grips Binghe’s body as he fumbles to lift up his qun, exposing his flaccid, aching dick. The chastity cage covering it glints in the low light, stark silver beneath a mound of curly, black pubic hair. Looking up at his husband as he rubs his useless cock on Shen Qingqiu's leg, heat shooting through his body with every motion, Binghe flutters his thick lashes. “Like this?”
The sight goes right to Shen Qingqiu's cunt. Now soaking wet, he nods, his tdick twitching. “Good boy. Hm, I think it's gotten a bit smaller since last time.”
Shen Qingqiu says it so casually, stirring up a hot storm of humiliation in Binghe’s core. Panting, Binghe humps Shen Qingqiu's leg faster. Precum dribbles out of the tip of his dick and stains his husband’s clothes.
“Tsk…look at you, leaking all over like a fucking dog.”
“Sorry, shizun…”
Shen Qingqiu frowns. “How will you make it up to me?”
“Whatever shizun wants, I’ll be happy to do it!” Drool rolls down Binghe’s chin as he speaks, breath and chest heaving.
“Dumb mutt. First you let me keep your dick all locked up with complete trust and sincerity, and now you're saying I can punish you however I’d like? You're too naïve.”
“I trust shizun with my life.”
Shen Qingqiu smirks, stroking the top of Binghe’s head, even giving it a few pats. “Good. Open your mouth and tilt your head back.”
Still fucking himself against Shen Qingqiu, Binghe tilts his head back and parts his full, reddened lips, revealing two rows of pointed white teeth and a slick pink tongue. Strands of thick, sticky saliva run the length of his open mouth, hot and wet and perfect to stuff a fat cock into.
“Tongue out.”
Binghe’s wet tongue pokes out over his bottom lip, looking extremely lewd. He watches with half-lidded eyes as Shen Qingqiu's lips purse and un-purse, cheeks moving in and out. Binghe isn't sure if Shen Qingqiu is just teasing him, or if what he hopes is about to happen is going to happen. His throbbing dick strains against its cage, desperate to get hard.
But it can't, and Binghe loves it.
In his lust-addled mind, he isn't sure if he ever wants to go back. Cumming whilst soft feels incredible — fuzzy and hot and intense, tingling up his every nerve — moreover, Shen Qingqiu loves watching Binghe’s pathetic, limp prick shoot out little spurts of cum when he orgasms.
Having his cock kept caged and useless, unable to get erect or fuck into anything is what suits him best. Besides, Shen Qingqiu thinks Binghe and his dick are cutest like this.
Binghe agrees, especially when he thinks about how he’s been reduced to rubbing himself on things and taking it up the ass for pleasure.
Shen Qingqiu's lips part, tongue poking out. Thick saliva spills out and down onto Binghe’s tongue, drawing a whine from his throat. He swallows it down, the point of his throat bobbing. The taste is incredible, heightened by the intense and dizzying wave of degrading humiliation that rushes over Binghe. His thighs twitch with need.
“That's what you get for dripping all over my good robe. Now what do you say, hm?”
“Thank you.”
Leaning down, Shen Qingqiu presses a kiss against Binghe’s demon mark. “Good dog.”
“Woof!”
If Binghe had a tail, it would be wagging.
Shen Qingqiu lifts the hem of his robe a few inches, making Binghe’s body shift. “Would you like a taste of your husband's pussy? You can't fuck it, after all.”
Nodding eagerly, Binghe grinds against Shen Qingqiu's leg harder and faster, precum oozing out of his slit even more furiously.
Cocking his head, Shen Qingqiu furrows his eyebrows. “Then beg.”
Fuck.
Binghe whines and clutches Shen Qingqiu tighter. His fingers press into the small of his back. “Please, shizun…please let me eat your pussy.”
“Do you deserve it?”
Embarrassment blooms hot in Binghe’s cheeks. He knows the answer that Shen Qingqiu wants, which makes pleasure pulse up through his dick. “No.”
“Then why should I let you?” Shen Qingqiu chuckles.
“I want it. I promise to make shizun feel good, please! Just one taste. I need shizun's pussy…I love it, I want it, I need it. Please, please!”
“Hm, alright then. As long as you promise to make me feel good. Quit humping my leg for a minute.”
Binghe obeys, his knees pressing against the cold, rough, wet stone of the alley street. His cock twitches from the sudden coldness and neglect. He stares with bated breath at Shen Qingqiu as he hikes up his robe, exposing a glistening pink pussy between two strong thighs. His tdick peeks out from the slick folds, hard and flushed red.
The sight makes Binghe's mouth water. He can't help but lick his lips.
“Come here.”
Whining and crawling over between his husband’s long, muscular legs, Binghe rests his large, calloused hands on either side of Shen Qingqiu's thighs, rising up on his knees and tilting his head back.
A tantalizing salty scent floods his nose as he opens his mouth and presses it to Shen Qingqiu's wet cunt. Binghe’s tongue darts and slips between the folds of Shen Qingqiu's labia, lapping up the juices.
“Ah…that's good, keep going. If you make me cum, I’ll consider letting you as well.”
Eager to be allowed to cum, Binghe pushes his tongue into Shen Qingqiu’s entrance, making him moan. His tongue dips in and out as it fucks his husband’s cunt.
Binghe can't help but whimper and buck his hips, desperate for something to rub against. Shen Qingqiu’s hand comes to rest on his head.
“Isn't it so warm and wet and tight? Don't you wish you could just stick your cock inside? Imagine how good it would feel to fuck me.”
Tears spring to Binghe’s eyes. The thought sends a pang of want pulsing through Binghe’s dick.
“Too bad you don't get to experience it.”
Swallowing back a desperate sob, Binghe tilts his head further back to lap at Shen Qingqiu’s erect tdick.
“Oh…Binghe…” Shen Qingqiu moans, pressing his nails into Binghe’s scalp. “Right there. Good, so good…”
Binghe’s lips encircle Shen Qingqiu’s tdick, sucking the stiff bud. Lewd slurping sounds echo off the narrow walls of the alley. Licking his husband’s tdick all over, juices flood his mouth and fill his body with warmth, combining with the wanton smell of sex.
“I’m going to lose my mind,” Binghe slurs, his words completely unintelligible with his mouth pressed to Shen Qingqiu’s cunt.
“Stupid dog…” a gasp falls from his lips, “can’t…can’t even…speak properly…mm…fuck…”
Shen Qingqiu fucks into the wet warmth of Binghe’s mouth. His tongue is soft yet sucks him off so diligently, worshiping his husband’s tdick like his life depends on it. It’s easy to tell from Binghe’s fervor that he’s desperate to orgasm, and Shen Qingqiu knows that Binghe is probably close.
Shen Qingqiu is as well, it’s easy to tell from the tingling sensation rising up in his core, threatening to spill over into the rest of his body.
“Binghe…” Shen Qingqiu moans. His thighs twitch. He presses his hips harder against Binghe’s mouth, fuzzy heat clouding his brain and stealing away his rationality. All he can think about is the wetness of Binghe’s tongue, the warmth of his mouth, and how he wants more.
Relentless and eager to please, Binghe sucks Shen Qingqiu’s tdick even harder when his husband’s hips grind harder against his face. His calloused fingers squeeze Shen Qingqiu’s thighs roughly, red marks blossoming beneath.
“Fuck, fuck…Binghe, oh g-d, I’m…” Ragged, staccato breaths punctuate Shen Qingqiu’s every word.
Shen Qingqiu squeezes either side of Binghe’s head between his thighs as he orgasms, a long and shameless whine that trails off into a stream of curses rising from his throat. Binghe moans too, a wanton noise.
Unable to control himself any longer, Binghe orgasms too. A wave of pleasure rushes up his body from between his thighs, turning his mind blank. He stifles a sob as ropes of cum spurt out from Binghe’s throbbing, desperate cock. Tears roll down his cheeks.
Grasping a fistful of his husband’s dark, curly hair, Shen Qingqiu tilts Binghe’s head up, forcing eye contact between the two of them.
“Did you cum?”
Binghe’s entire body is trembling. He nods, defeatedly averting his gaze. “I’m sorry…”
A tense, heavy moment of silence passes before a soft sigh followed by a gentle laugh meets Binghe’s ears.
“Is shizun mad?” Tears cling to Binghe’s long, fluttering eyelashes like clear pearls.
“Only that I didn't get to watch,” Shen Qingqiu says as he looks down at the puddle of seed on the stone floor underfoot. Crouching down, he cups his hand against Binghe’s cheek and strokes it with his thumb. “You look tired. Let’s go home.”
Binghe nods. Shen Qingqiu helps him to his feet and straightens out both of their crumpled clothes. He takes Binghe’s hand in his own, tender and gentle, as though the events from mere moments ago hadn’t even happened.
Deep inside Binghe’s mind, a tempest of dizzying anticipation swirls. He knows what will happen to him tonight as punishment for cumming early, and the eager, heart-palpitating excitement goes right to his dick.