Page 7 of Caged for Them

Would Henry bend her over the table and fuck her? Would he let me watch, or let me lick her clean?

“What are you thinking about?” Henry asked as we put the dishes in the dishwasher. “You barely talked throughout dinner.”

“Nothing,” I muttered, too embarrassed to admit the truth. Too desperate to get away from them, to lose myself in wild fantasies about the kinky thing they’d done to me. “I’d better go.”

I jetted out of the house fast enough that it was probably a little rude. When I got home, I ripped off my clothes, desperate for the kind of release I found while thinking about them, but my fucking caged cock ached every time I tried to get hard. I closed my eyes, running my hands over my body. My skin was onfire. I circled my asshole with a groan, my eyes widening at the intensified pleasure there.

“Fuck,” I mumbled, turning toward the bathroom and looking at myself in the mirror. How could I be this turned on without even being able to rub one out? Anticipation swelled in my chest, and suddenly, I couldn’t wait to see what my next few days would be like, trapped in a cage that they controlled.

I pinched my nipples. They seemed more sensitive than ever. My hands wander down my chest, exploring the way my skin felt, how responsive I was. I rubbed my cock through the cage. The latex was cool against my skin, and my cock completely trapped. Even trying to squeeze the cage did little.

But there were still ways to pleasure myself, right? I pumped a little lube onto my finger and hesitantly pressed it against my hole, shuddering at the strangely pleasurable sensation. Like my nipples, it seemed to grow more sensitive the more I touched myself there. With a deep breath, I pushed a finger inside, gasping as I stretched my insides and worked my way deeper until I hit bottom, and added another finger. I was so tight I could only manage two, but the way it made me feel was incredible.

I closed my eyes, imagining being Henry and Mari’s pet. What would it be like to be their slave? To be so bound to them that they could fuck me any way they wanted and I would happily submit to whatever they needed? Henry wouldn’t even need to remove my cage to use my hole, and Mari could demand I make her come with my hands and my mouth.

My body shook, my nerves sensitive to every touch. If this was how intense it was after three hours, how would I handle myself after a full day? A week?

Chapter 5

Jason

Mari had only wantedme to wear the cage for a few hours after I left them, but I found it comfortable enough to leave on. Or perhaps I wasn’t yet ready to ask them to take it off.

The next day was pure torture, and I was confused and aroused by the thought of what they’d done to me. Were we training me to only get aroused by them, not anyone else? Or were we training my cock not to need sex? Because at this point, it seemed like the opposite was happening. My attention was laser-focused on anything sexually arousing, from the woman in a shampoo commercial, to the way the soft fabric of my t-shirt fluttered against my nipples in the breeze.

I supposed that if it taught me control, that control would translate to whoever I dated next, but the longer I wore the cage, the more I wondered about that wild thought I’d had when he caged me. Why had it felt so damn much like I was supposed to belong to Mari and Henry? My sleep was restless, the cage preventing me from my usual evening ritual, and when I woke the next morning, I felt swollen and achy inside the cage. I picked up my phone and called Henry.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“I can’t handle the cage, man.” My cheeks flushing as I admitted it.

“That’s fine. It was probably a dumb idea anyway,” Henry said, laughing softly. “Afterwards, when you insisted on wearing it, Mari got worried. Why don’t you drop by this morning and we’ll handle it?”

I took a shaky breath and nodded, getting dressed. Mari would be at work, hopefully, so I wouldn’t have to face her in my humiliating defeat. Henry would understand. My best friend would give me shit, but he was a good person. We’d been through everything together. When I got there, Henry was in sweats, lounging on the couch, watching an episode of his nerdy Doctor Who shows.

He and his sister ran a restaurant in town, one they’d inherited from their mother, and he rarely worked this early in the day. The key sat on the table in front of him, glistening in the sun, calling to me. He picked it up and came to greet me, went tohand me the key, and at the last minute, closed his fist around it, not letting me have it.

“Come on,” I said, trying to grab it out of his hand.

“Why do you want to take it off?” He taunted me, running behind the sofa.

“I just do. Don’t you think I should take it off?” I cleared my throat and stopped chasing him. Henry searched my face and smiled a little.

“Well, if it’s painful, yes. If you think it’s doing damage, or irritating your skin, definitely. If you just want to take the cage off because you’re desperate to orgasm, I think you can last a little while longer. It’s only been what? 36 hours?”

I huffed out a breath, crossing my arms over my chest, hating his answer. “It’s not painful. It’s surprisingly comfortable.” I frowned. “Don’t I have a safe word?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Are you using your safe word? Say the word and it’s over. Watermelon, right?”

Shit. He had to call my bluff, didn’t he? “I can use my safe word because I want to come?”

“It’s a safe word for a fun sex game. You’re not breaking out of prison. If this gets to be too much for you, just communicate that.” He was smirking at me, his eyes full of laughter.

I made a face at him. “I’m not using my safe word. Most of the time. I like the weight of it. But…”

“You want to fuck?”

I laughed. “Or jerk off at least. I’m so goddamn horny it’s all I can think about. If I shift position a little, I know it’s there. The pressure against me is a constant reminder, taunting me with what I’m not allowed to have.”

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