It had been almost two weeks since my last orgasm. I'd been locked in the cage after a particularly lengthy cock teasing and torture session, only allowed out for washing under strict supervision, and the need for release had only intensified. By the time I had finished preparing myself per Sir's instructions, I was thrumming with excitement--physically, obviously, but emotionally as well. I didn't know what to expect, but with him I rarely did.
We'd been together long enough to have earned that level of trust and faith in each other. I wouldn't have allowed him to lock me away like this otherwise, or give him carte blanche for whatever he desired, within my boundaries. It was really only after our wedding.
He was still surprising me, even after several years together. It made me love him even more.
Hair still slightly damp, I walked to where he was sitting and kneeled on the cushion waiting there. The gesture made me smile; while I called him 'Sir' or 'Master' during sex and kink, his broader role was much more nurturing and gentle.
Daddy even in sadism, I thought, and fought to keep my face solemn.
He ignored me for a few minutes, continuing to scroll on his phone. I didn't mind. This was part of the game, part of getting both of us in the right headspace. When the position became uncomfortable, I tried relaxing. It didn't work, but Sir decided he was ready. Casually, he tossed his phone down on the sofa beside him and turned his attention to me.
"You remember your safewords?"
"Yes, Sir." I was ready to get to the fun part, desperately hoping he would remove the cage around my cock. I needed an orgasm. The possibility of impending release--physical and sexual--made my cock twitch as it tried to grow.
He smirked, noticing my reaction.
"Eager slave, aren't you. Are you wanting something?" He leaned down and caressed my encased cock. I moaned slightly, wanting more, unable to feel much of anything through the thick plastic. My balls were sensitive though, and the featherlight brushes of his fingers across them sent tremors through me.
I was hornier than I'd ever been in my life.
"Please, Sir, I can't stand it," I whined. I hated whining. He was the only man who could even induce such sounds from me, but I thought I sounded pathetic.
He laughed, removing his hand and sitting back.
"You can't? Too bad little slave, you're going to have to. I don't intend to unlock you today."
I dropped my head in frustration, fighting back tears. He could be cruel sometimes; prior to this, I'd never gone more than a day without an orgasm. Usually more than one. My libido was high, and his last session of teasing me had started my penile incarceration with high sexual tension. He'd been continuing to tease me, with words and sex, having me watch him masturbate to clips of my favorite porn. Two weeks later, I felt as though my brain were melting.
He stood, bending to grip my hair and pull me to my feet. I squeaked at the sudden sharp pain in my scalp but found my feet quickly. He released me and the pain subsided to a dull tingling. Then he kissed me hard, mashing my lips against my teeth. They'd bruise, I knew, but the kiss pushed my brain into quiet, docile submission.
"Do slaves get a choice in what their Masters decide for them?" His voice was harder now.
"No, Sir," I whispered as I shook my head. I knew he was right. Slaves, even consensual ones, were property in all ways except legally.
I heard the sharp snap of flesh-on-flesh before I felt it. A split second later, before my brain could even register what the sound was, a burning, stinging pain blossomed on my cheek. It wasn't the worst I'd experienced, but it wasn't pleasant either. Immediately I felt his hand encompass my throat as his hot breath tickled my ear.
"'Sir' isn't here anymore, slave."
Feeling chastised, I mumbled a hasty, "yes, Master" and was released.
He strode away, down the hall to our bedroom. I followed, uncertain if I should. He hadn't said for me to, but he hadn't given any other instruction either. His mood had shifted from the daddy-dom husband I usually lived with to the full-scale, strict Master. I had to be cautious to avoid any missteps he could use as fuel against me.
It wasn't often he was like this. I wasn't often comfortable with consensual slavery. We worked well together because we could adapt to each other's needs and had similar kinks, built on a foundation of love and friendship and general dorkiness. If this had been a lighter scene, I'd have been wearing a slave-Leia costume, but he had gone to the darker side of his personality.
Thus I found myself naked save my cage, kneeling in the doorway of our bedroom, thankful for the carpet I had initially hated. There was some cushioning for my knees, at least. With my eyes on the floor I couldn't see what he was doing, but I heard him walking around and opening drawers.
My anticipation was ramping up again. Even though he'd said he wouldn't unlock me, there was a chance he was using that to push my buttons. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he would tie me down and play with my cock. Even more edging torture would have been welcome at this point...anything to get out of this damned compressive, plastic tube.
