These were taken before I had the base ring enlarged a bit, but the cage fits great. This is flaccid and erect in the cage.
I accepted a glass of cranberry juice with a dash of vodka and settled into the sofa. My beloved, sweet-faced houseboy was already massaging his bare feet. After a long day running around the stock exchange floor, I loved every second of it. After the formatlies of ‘hi-how-was-your-day’ and ‘what-did-you-do’, I moved into the conversation that really interested him.
“So Peche, I saw your Tumblr update on my lunch break.”
Peche momentarily paused, then continued the rub. “I’m really flattered you enjoy reading it so much Sir.”
“well, I think it’s good for a boy to reflect on his life a little. Encourage others to follow the same path.”
“Yes sir.”
“And I know you didn’t mean for it to be funny, but the twin photos of your cock had me laughing for like twenty minutes.”
Peche titled his blond head. “Pardon sir?”
I was trying to supress a chuckle even now. “Here…” I pulled out his phone, opened the Tumblr app, and scrolled. “Here. This. See? Your cock is shown flaccid and hard but -” I let a laugh slip – “It looks the same!”
Peche turned a deep red. “Well it – it doesn’t really-”
“It absolutely does. I have your little cocked locked up so tight it can’t harden at all. It’s all an illusion that it can harden, my pretty boy.”
Peche shifted on the floor, turning his Master’s socks rightside out. “Well – I am happy to please you Sir.”
“Mmm it pleases me very much. When I saw you naked the first time, I thought two things. One was that you took my breath away and that had never happened with a lover before; and the second thing was that you were absolutely born to wear a chastity device. The way your small member was straining so hard to impress – I felt so bad for it! You were so distracted with it, so obsessed with trying to make it bigger, trying to stroke it with your silppery fingers…” I sipped my drink. “It was a situation that begged to be rectified.” I watched Peche’s face. I could tell I was making him horny because the blush was high on his cheek bones. He wasn’t doing anything now but staring at me. I hoped he was imagining either the first time I fucked him, or the first time I fucked him in chastity. Both were equally memorable. The second night lasted much longer though. I sipped again.
“It’s just so much better now. Can you look at me and tell me you don’t like being horny for me all the time?”
Peche kneeled behind the coffee table and thought it over. He looked a bit surprised to be asked that. “well Sir…it’s…new,” he said carefully. “Being horny nearly all the time is strange. It takes discipline to set it aside and focus on other things, but when you take time to express my needs…it all seems to come back at once. It’s incredible the volume of lust I seem to feel, and at times, it feels like it will never end and I’m going insane. Then when it’s over, there’s the relief and the bliss, and I never want it to end. when it fades away, I want it again immediately. It’s almost like a drug. I hate it, but I want it, and …” Peche tilts his head again, in thought. “I realized I could either have a short, pleasurable sex experience and orgasm, or I could delay it and have more time coupling with you.” Peche suddenly looked down, shy. “I like the latter option.”
My jaw fell to my knees. Why had I never asked Peche these questions before? I wanted more personal, sensual responses like this. There was so much that went on in my houseboy’s head that I never knew about. Such a passionate boy. My heart throbbed for him. I swallowed hard. My pants were painfully tight. I set the glass on the coffee table with care because I was afraid I might drop it. “Peche,” I said softly. “Come here.” I patted my lap.
“…Am I going to be spanked?” he asked, timidly.
I choked on my spit and coughed. “Don’t be absurd. Now come here.”
Peched looked confused, but he obeyed, standing up and coming over to me on the sofa. He climbed on and I pulled him into my lap. I lifted his chin and kissed him fully, enjoying the way he tensed and then melted under me. I pressed my lips to his again and again, then I nibbled on his bottom lip and pounced once more. Peche was quickly breathless in my lap. My other hand wrapped around his package. He made ragged, frustrated noises in my ear. My pulse thudded wildly in response.
I dug around in the sofa cushions with my free hand, desperately searching for the bottle of lube I stashed there. I exhaled with relief when I found it.
“Lift your ass, Peche,” I instructed, touching his hip. He rose over my lap, so I could reach down and free the length of my shaft from its confines. When the tip touched air, I moaned and began to rub lubricant into it. Peche was nuzzling me, kissing me, waiting for the moment when I would enter him.
He made quite a noise of surprise when I threw him down on the afghan spread over the cushions, onto his back. “God Peche you are so beautiful,” I murmured, caressing him from pec to pubic bone, enjoying the way his stomach muscles fluttered under me. Peche was red all over, blushed and a bit fuzzy, just like his namesake. His juices were dripping too. “Perfect.”
I pushed up his leg and positioned my cock. Peche’s toes curled before I even breached him, and if I hadn’t been so focused on this need to be in him, I likely would have laughed at that. His body was tight and put up good resistance, but it was not a match for me. I entered him with one thrust. Peche tensed so hard around me, it was if I was being pulled in with a tractor beam. He whimpered and fisted a pillow. “Sir!” he yelped. “Oh Sir!”
I released a big breath of air I was holding and swallowed hard. “Relax…relax,” I cooed. I didn’t move at first. I just enjoyed the view of this vulnerable houseboy, open and thrumming with sexual energy underneath me. And I had to admit, I was wrong. I could tell he was hard. His cock was dark and leaky. I cupped his balls, which made Peche arch his back and plead for me to move. Not yet. I kissed him on the lips, wishing I was flexible to bend in half and suck on his nipples. I had to settle with tweaking them with my fingers.
Peche suddenly gasped and pre-cum gushed from his chastity cage. His eyes were wet. He looked a bit overwhelmed. It was time. “It’s ok…I’m going to make you feel human again. When we are done here, I will have to tie a string to you or else you’ll float away.” I pulled out, and pushed in – slowly.
Peche’s gaze was glazed, faraway. He wrapped his thin fingers around my wrist. “Julian!” he cried.
“Shh shh…”
I bent over to kiss him again. The sun dipped low in the horizon, filling the room with an autumnal golden glow. I made love to Peche as thoroughly as I could, pushing past my two orgasms into a third, until Peche’s body gave up. Exhausted, I watched rapt, as an orgasm quaked through him from the inside out. He cried. I loved him. By that point, it was dark, and it felt like just the two of us were left in the world.
Peche woke up in the bath. I made him dinner later, and it confused him – even more so when I insisted I feed him. When he protested, I told him to shush. Part of being his Master meant more than just protecting and caring for him, as my houseboy. It meant doting on him and spoiling him once in a while to show him just how special he was to me.
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Text is fictional.
