When he finally comes down from his climax, she tells him. “You’re going back in. After your shower we’re locking you up again.”
There is honest dread him. Memories of waking in the middle of the night, his cock straining against the cage. The torment and bother of the thing. Sitting down to pee. The ache in his balls. But he nods. “Yes, of course.” Then, “I like being locked for you.”
When he gets out of the shower he finds the cock cage sitting on the bathroom counter. He dries himself, slides the cage on and locks it in place. It’s tight on his cock. Makes him aware of himself. The weight and constriction of the thing. He walks out to the living room and finds his Mistress sitting at the table, her smile full of mischief.
“I believe these are yours?” He says, and he places the keys on the table in front of her.
“They are.” She looks up at him, then down at his cock. “And what else?”
“My cock and balls and orgasms. Those belong to you, too.”
“That’s right, my subby slut. It all belongs to me.”
He feels his cock stir and the cage feels particularly snug.
It’s the first time she’s locked him up so quickly. In the past she’s allowed his cock to remain unlocked for days at a time. But this time she had him back in chastity in less than six hours. He didn’t even get a chance to miss it.
When he can’t touch his cock, everything else becomes sexualized. His skin feels charged and sensitive. He finds himself running his hands over his chest and caressing his nipples. Sometimes he pinches them and pulls them hard, the rough treatment sending jolts to his caged cock. It strains against the cage, and he wants to touch himself. He wants desperately to touch himself, but he can’t. He can’t touch his cock so he touches himself elsewhere. He rubs his skin. He fucks his ass with dildos when she lets him. Sometimes he feels close to cumming, but he can’t get over that edge.
She torments him. She sends him photos of his keys when they’re apart, holding them up in front of the camera, her smile just a blur of white in the background. When they’re together she runs her hands over his body. She presses her palm against his caged cock and rubs and tugs at his balls. Sometimes it feels good, sometimes she pulls and squeezes and hurts him. He stays frantic for everything, his body bucking and writhing under her hands, his voice high and pleading. “Please, please, please…” He has no idea what he’s asking for. His brain holds nothing but sensations and the white noise of desire.
“Please…I don’t know. I don’t know, I just…” She presses the wand against his caged cock and turns it on and he can’t continue. His brain goes animal and he lets out a low, guttural moan.
He can’t believe she’s asking. Of course, of course he does. More than anything he wants to be inside her. To feel her tight warmth and to thrust and buck to some kind of feeling on his cock. To release. To something. “Yes. Yes yes yes oh god please yes.”
“Then put this on and fuck me.” She holds a strapon harness on her extended index finger, a light in her eyes that tells him she loves his torment.
His stomach sinks. He had hoped–But he takes the harness and puts it on, the large fake cock bobbing above his caged one. She pulls him on top of her and guides him in. When he slides the dildo in, she gasps, and as he begins to thrust, he can feel the impact as his caged cock bounces against the bed, her ass, anywhere but inside her. But it’s a feeling, at least. He can feel the impact in his cock and maybe…just maybe…he begins to fuck her harder and harder still, pounding into her as his frenzy increases, desperately hoping to stimulate himself enough to….
She cums hard, her legs shaking, her nails digging into his shoulder with enough force to make him cry out. It’s a relief for him, of sorts–her own shuddering orgasm imparting some piece of itself to him. Just enough to take the edge off.
She takes his face in her hands looks into his eyes. “You poor thing,” she says.
“It’s ok,” he says. “I like when you cum. It makes me feel good.”
“Then I’ll have to cum more often.”
Butterflies bloom in his stomach, and his hard cock twitches as the words sink into him, pull him deeper, deeper into submission with the continued reinforcement of her dominance over him: she can cum when she wants, and he can’t cum unless she lets him. All her body is hers, and part of his body is hers. He has given up control and she has taken it.
She texts him: I just got off. It’s the second time today. How are you?
Good. I like you that way. You should beg me to get off again.
Please. Please, Mistress. Please get off again. Please cum hard and often and tell me when you do. Please cum. I love it when you do. I love knowing you can and I can’t. I love my submission…
“Your panties are soaked,” she says. It’s been two hours that she’s been tormenting him. At turns caressing his body and spanking his inner thighs. She’s shoved her fingers in his ass and he bucked back against her hand. She’s placed her hand over his mouth and slid her panty-covered pussy over his caged cock. He’s leaked a lot, felt it squeezed out of his cock each time he clenched or convulsed. Each time his body tried to get some kind of feeling, the very biology of him scrambled now: if the body feels this good, it must be having sex. If it’s having sex, the cock should be thrusting into something and we should be orgasming. We’re thrusting our hips, but there’s no sensation. Send more frenzy. Increase desire. Something’s not right and we’re just going to throw signals until something works or the whole system short circuits and we have nothing left.
He just nods. “Of course they are. Of course. Do you see what you’re doing?”
She sits back a moment, and his whole body seems to scream for her. He arches his back, bucks his hips. So desperate for her hands on him again, for even torment is better than nothing.
“Do you want me to let you out?”
“Then you have to gag yourself with your panties.”
He immediately slides them off and shoves them into his mouth. He looks at her, tries to convey his desperation through his eyes, even whimpering slightly.
She hands him a roll of bondage tape. “And make sure they don’t come out?”
He nods, and wraps the tape over his mouth and around the back of his head. Three full turns, around and around and around until the panties are good and secure.
She pulls out the key and unlocks him. Together they work to pull the cage off his cock and the ring off his balls. The feeling is incredible. The cool air on his cock, the absence of anything constricting. She stokes it once or twice, and he moans into the gag. “Do you want me to keep touching you?”
He nods frantically, his head bobbing up and down.
“Then you’ll have to let me blindfold you.”
He nods again and slides behind him and ties a sash tight over his eyes. This she moves back in front of him and begins stroking his cock. Her hand feels amazing on him, even as she teases, stroking the shaft a bit, then moving her thumb against his cock just under the head. She alternates, fast and slow, bringing him closer and closer to the edge until his head’s thrown back and his hands claw at the sheets. Then she stops completely and he bucks and writhes and wordlessly pleads, whining and whimpering through the gag. When he calms a bit, he feels her sliding her pussy against his shaft. He whimpers again, nods his head. Trains vainly to thrust his cock inside her.
“Not yet,” she says. She slides against him more, up and down his shaft. It feels so good, so wonderful that he remains motionless as long as he can, relishing in it, but it gets to be too much, and his body overtakes him. He thrusts again, his futile efforts drawing forth from her a sly chuckle. “You want to be inside me?”
He moans his affirmative into the panties. Nods. Yes. yesyesyesyesyes…dead god yes…
“If I let you inside me, what do I get to do?”
He can’t think. Or he can think of only one thing: to be in her. To feel her surround him, so he shakes his head, moans again, frantic from some other way to communicate.
“I get to beat you,” she says.
He stops. There’s an edge to her voice that cuts through even his desperation haze. Then he squeezes his covered eyes shut tight and nods, feels her pussy slide over his cock, then off, so quick he barely had time to arch his back, to relish in the feeling.
When she’s done inflicting her pain, she uses the vibrator to get off beside him, close enough he can feel her tense and hear her quiet gasp and moan. When she’s done she leans close to him and says, “Thank you. It’s always better after I hurt you.”
He nods again, and feels her begin to untie the blindfold.
He fucks himself in front of her. He sits on a chair and rides a dildo for her, grinding back and forth and bobbing up and down. Again he feels so close. That maybe, if he could just get the exact right motion or position or something, it would be enough. But so far it hasn’t been. So far he’s been able to squeeze precum from his cock in rivulets. Felt it pulse out of him, once or twice so much that he heard its wet sound as it fell to the floor. She torments him with the wand and with her mouth on his caged cock, and when she’s done she makes him lick his cum off the floor.
He can’t think. He’s so frantic he can barely see, and the idea of putting two cogent thoughts together has long been impossible.
She’s ravaged him. Shoved a dildo gag in his mouth and rode him roughly while playing with his caged cock. She removed the gag and lowered her pussy onto his face and had him use the wand to help get her off. She’s promised him a chance today. She’s said he’s been so good this past month that he’ll finally get his chance. And when she’s finally extracted enough from him, she holds the harness out again.
He takes from her and begins to put it on.
“No, silly,” she says. “It goes on me.”
He’s flooded with relief, though now knows he won’t be cumming inside her. She hands him her biggest dildo and a flick of her eyes tell him what he must do. He threads the dildo into the harness for her, and she lies back on the bed. “You have to lube it up,” she says. “But you have to do it with your mouth.”
He just nods. At this point, he’d do nearly anything to cum, so he lowers his mouth onto the cock and begins bobbing up and down. He knows how to do it, to get it slick enough. He must gag himself on it, the phlegm and spittle produced from gagging nearly a perfect lubricant. And so he breathes out and looks up at her and then closes his eyes and shoves the cock into the back of his throat, cutting off his air. He stays as long as he can, his body convulsing around this new intruder. And when he comes up for air, thick rivulets of spit coat the cock and trail to his lips. He does it two, three more times–he doesn’t care. He’s so depraved now, he’ll punish himself to earn even a chance at orgasm. Finally the dildo is slick, and he’s scooped drool from his chin and lubed his ass. He climbs on top of her and lowers himself on to the cock. It hurts going in, and for a moment he has to sit, motionless. But then the desire begins in him again, and he starts rocking back and forth, feeling the cock in his ass rubbing against the base of his cock on the inside, the cage compressing in rhythm as he grinds forward and back, the cock pumping into him with each shift of her hips.
She takes her time with him, building his desire, pinching his nipples, slapping his face. Pulling him down on her and thrusting her cock deep inside him, holding him still, locking eyes with him. She makes him bounce up and down on her, and he releases a torrent of filthy talk. How her cock feels so good inside him, how big it is and how she fills him up. How much he loves when she fucks him and how he loves being her slut. Her cock-craving slut.
And finally she’s ready. She reaches for the wand and tells him to keep grinding on her. She commands him to caress his nipples and touch his body. He does, and already he can feel a wave beginning. The caress on his nipples sends charges through him, and his balls begin to tingle.
“Harder” she says, and she turns on the wand and presses it against the top of his cock, right where the cage meets his body.
He shudders and moans. He begins grinding faster, the feeling building him. His hands pinch and pull on his nipples. He grabs his own ass and moves himself, imagining hands on him, moving him, commanding him. He moves back to his nipples, whimpering, whining, wordlessly begging for relief until finally he feels it build. The tingle grows stronger, and his balls tighten. Finally he tenses, clamps his legs against and she pulls her hands and the wand away.
He moans out a “no,” the word trailing out of him low and bellowing as his cum oozes from the end of his caged cock and pools on her stomach. It’s barely satisfying, and he rocks and grinds his hips in hopes of something just a bit more, but it’s no use. With one final shudder he is done. An orgasm, yes, but ultimately unsatisfying. He lets out a slight whimper and she gathers him into her, his hot cum between them, and pulls his face into her neck.
“You came, baby,” she says. “You came and we didn’t even have to take off the cage.”
He nods into her, unable to speak, barely able to contain the mix of thoughts and emotions in his head: he finally got to cum, but it wasn’t what he wanted or what he expected. It was her orgasm, finally, one she dictated to him and forced from him on terms ultimately her own.
“Maybe it can stay on longer this time,” she says, and he shudders with a rush of feeling and hears her bare her teeth in a lupine smile.
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