Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com
Copyright ©2010 by Torquere Press First published...
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Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
Torquere Press www.torquerepress.com
Copyright ©2010 by Torquere Press First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2010 NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others. This eBook is displayed using 100% recycled electrons.
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Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
CONTENTS Control The Feel of Steel Tanny and the Cage, A Hammer Story Contributors' Bios ****
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Toy Box: Cage Edited by M. Rode
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Control by Mychael Black Andy stretched out, absently toying with the black leather of the sofa. He watched his best friend, Dylan Marsh, type, the man's fingers flying over the keyboard. "So what're we doing tonight?" Dylan asked without looking up. He tapped his glasses, shoving them back up on his nose, then went back to typing. "You've never gone out with a chick, have you?" Dylan's movements faltered, but he didn't look at Andy. "Of course I have." Uh-huh. "Who? And when?" A few seconds passed before Dylan answered. "Rebecca Messing in eighth grade." Andy smirked. Like himself, Dylan was halfway through his senior year. Of college. "When's the last time you were with a guy?" "Last night," Dylan muttered. Then he spun around abruptly. "How the fuck did you know?" Andy swore he heard a pin drop six blocks down the road in the silence. "C'mon, man," he said finally. "I'm not stupid." Dylan scowled and turned away again. "Yeah, well—there you have it. I'm gay. Not even my fucking parents know." He sounded pissed, defensive. Andy sighed. Twelve years of friendship, two years spent pining after his best friend. He figured he deserved the snappy comment, though, for all the girls he'd fucked around 5
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with in high school. But he was over that now, had been since two years ago when he'd started seeing Dylan as much more than a geeky friend. Just the thought of Dylan bent over, a cock up his ass, made Andy hard as stone. Giving into temptation, Andy stood and went up behind Dylan. Hands on Dylan's shoulders, Andy leaned forward, breath hot on his best friend's neck. "Do you like getting your ass fucked, Dylan?" he whispered. No amount of ROTC could have prepared Andy for his friend's response. Before Andy knew it, he was on his knees, head tilted back, Dylan's hand fisted in his hair. "I do the fucking, got it?" Andy swallowed and barely managed to nod. For the first time in twelve years, he saw something in those gorgeous green eyes that he'd never expected to see: confidence. Selfconfidence so strong, it took his breath away. "Get up and go get me some water." Dylan shoved him back and Andy landed on his ass. Stunned, Andy started to get up, but a snapped order stopped him cold. "On your knees!" A shiver stole straight up Andy's spine and without a word, he crawled toward the kitchen in Dylan's small apartment on his hands and knees. He only rose up when he reached the fridge and tugged it open. Dylan didn't drink, didn't eat meat, didn't smoke, didn't party. By the looks of things, no one—not even Andy—could've expected that beneath the geekiness and the glasses hid a man fully confident to take charge. 6
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Andy grabbed a bottle of water and closed the fridge, then wondered how to get it back to Dylan while still on hands and knees. With a sigh, he held the top between his teeth and started crawling back to the corner of the living room where Dylan's computers were set up. "Good boy." Dylan took the water, but didn't look at him. "Sit." Having the good sense to suspect Dylan didn't mean in a chair, Andy sat back on his feet, hands resting on his thighs. "Spread your legs, palms up." Andy did as he was told, and even with clothes on, he felt vulnerable, almost naked. If someone came in, if one of their friends saw him now, there'd be absolutely no mistake about just what was going on. Dylan kept working, but when he spoke, Andy found himself hanging on every word. "When I give you an order, I expect it to be followed immediately. If you argue, you will be punished. If you do well, I'll reward you. Pick a word, something you'd never say in the heat of the moment." Andy thought about it for a moment. "Pascal." When Dylan finally glanced at him, Andy shrugged. "Hey, I did learn some things over the past twelve years, man." Dylan smirked. "Very well, and from now on, you call me anything but 'sir' in private, and your ass will be so red, you won't be sitting for a week." Andy swallowed hard and whispered, "Yes, sir." ****
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Andy Richmond blinked himself awake and stared up at the ceiling fan. Yet again, he'd endured another dream about Dylan Marsh, a man he hadn't seen since college. They'd been roommates, but what's more, they'd been best friends throughout most of their school years. After college, though, things had changed. Andy couldn't put his finger on it, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Dylan really was gay, though they'd never spoken a word in that direction in the twelve years they knew one another. "Oh, who am I fucking kidding?" Andy muttered. He scrubbed his hands down his face. He'd been the one who'd moved away and eventually lost touch. Dylan, so far as Andy knew, hadn't left Huntsville, Alabama, for any extended period of his life. Andy glanced at the calendar on the wall. Classes were done. He officially had his degree in Business Admin, but things still didn't feel right. He missed Huntsville. Hell, he missed Dylan. He had nothing keeping him here. Not anymore, anyway. He'd kicked Steve to the curb when he found out the guy had cheated on him—six times, even—during the month the asshole had supposedly gone to visit family in Kentucky. Mind made up, Andy got out of bed and started on the process of packing up. He always knew he'd wind up back home, and thankfully, his mother still held hope that he'd take his old room back for a while. While he shoved clothes and other things into the several boxes he'd grabbed a few days ago for packing, he dug the phone out from a pile of magazines and papers. He hit speed dial and waited for his mom to answer. 8
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"Hello, honey!" Andy smiled. "Hey, Mom. That offer of my old room still good?" "Of course! When will you be leaving Texas?" "Probably today. I'll take my time getting there, though." "Okay. I'll make sure everything's ready for you. I love you." "Love you, too, Mom." He hung up and finished tossing things randomly into boxes. He couldn't wait to get on the road. **** Halfway to Alabama, in some half-forgotten town on the border of Mississippi and Louisiana, Andy found a motel that didn't look deserted. He'd driven as far as possible, but, having had little sleep the night before, he looked forward to a bed. He locked up the car and headed toward the tiny office. Ten minutes and about forty dollars later, he let himself into a small but surprisingly clean room. He tossed the room key and his wallet onto the battered dresser and headed for the shower. Water going steady and warm, he stripped and stepped in, pulling the curtain closed. Andy tipped his head back and groaned as the water cascaded over him. It felt so good to get out from behind the wheel for a bit. He lathered up and washed, then took a few minutes to relax while the water rinsed the shampoo and soap off. Dylan flashed into his mind, those mesmerizing emerald eyes watching him like a hawk. Andy brushed his fingers gingerly along the length of his cock 9
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and gasped at the touch. He hadn't been hard until now. Then again, lately, any thought of Dylan automatically led to jerking off. Andy moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, fist sliding up and down his aching shaft, hips thrusting. In his imagination, Dylan stood over him, thin arms crossed, glaring over the tops of those glasses and straight through to Andy's soul. "Oh, fuck." Andy whimpered and sped up his strokes, bracing himself with one hand against the shower wall. He pumped faster, panting. "Fuck. Dylan!" Head back, he shouted. Spunk shot over his fingers and onto the tile. Andy shuddered as he milked the last few drops from the tip. "Jesus." **** "Andy!" Andy laughed and hugged his mother, Linda. "Hey, Mom." "How was the drive? You hungry?" He walked into the house with her, only to stop dead in his tracks. His mother kept on going, moving into the kitchen via the living room. "You remember Dylan Marsh, don't you?" she called. "Well, I needed an electrician and when Marcie—you know, my friend from church?—well, she recommended Dylan to me." Andy barely heard a word she said. Dylan Marsh. A room over in the den. On a ladder under the ceiling fan. With jeans no man should ever wear in public. 10
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And... muscles. Not just a little toning. Muscles. As in biceps, and triceps, and abs, and... "Andy?" Andy snapped his jaw shut, pretty damn sure he'd been drooling. He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, Mom. I'm comin'." He made a beeline for the kitchen, hoping like hell Dylan hadn't heard or noticed him. "Sorry, got sidetracked." "Oh. Anyway, like I was saying," she continued without missing a beat, "Dylan's got his own company now, doing electrical type stuff. Really good business, too. Your daddy would've had a fit if he were alive, the whole 'gay thing' and all, you know." Gay? Oh, God. Andy dropped into a dining chair. "Dylan's gay?" His mother stopped and glanced over at him, looking incredulous. "Being best friends, I'd have thought you knew that." "We kinda lost touch a few years ago," Andy muttered. "I see. Well, yes, Dylan is gay. But he's so wonderful at his job, I don't think anyone in town cares. Whenever someone needs an electrician, he's the one everyone else recommends." "Cool." Andy got up and tried to ignore the shakiness in his legs. "Uh, I need to get my stuff out of the truck. I'll be back in a few." He hurried outside, completely avoiding even looking in the direction of the den. It didn't matter. He practically skidded to a stop to keep from running right into Dylan outside. They looked each other up and down, and when 11
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they're gazes finally met, Andy had to force himself not to attack the man in front of him. "Holy shit." Dylan grinned, the expression genuine, with a touch of wickedness. "Andy?" Andy nodded. "Wow!" Dylan walked around him and Andy felt as if he was standing on an auction block for inspection. "Damn, you look good." "Thanks," Andy managed to say. "So do... you." Dylan came to a stop before him once more, but this time, the look shifted into something else—curious, but strict. "Want to go get a drink tonight?" "Sure." Andy wanted a hell of a lot more than that, but he kept his mouth shut about it. "Where?" "Turbine." At Andy's blank look, Dylan laughed. "New gay bar downtown." "Wait. Huntsville has a gay bar?" "Just opened, and while they've had their share of shit from a few choice locals, they're doing good, business-wise." "Cool. Um, sure. We can do that. When?" Dylan glanced at the black and silver watch on his left arm. "Now?" "Yep. Meet you there?" "Sure thing." Andy started for his car, but Dylan stopped him with a single word. "Commando." "Huh?" 12
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Dylan looked around briefly, then approached Andy, getting closer than most men would dare. "Commando. Nothing under your jeans," he murmured. Transfixed on the movement of lips almost too close, Andy didn't think before he answered. "Yes, sir." "Better yet—follow me home." Without another word, Dylan turned and headed for his work truck. One eyebrow lifted, Andy watched him for a moment. Who was this guy? What happened to the Dylan Andy knew years ago? Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, Andy ran back inside. "Mom, going to chill at Dylan's and catch up. I'll be back later on." He hurried outside again and Dylan stopped just before backing out of the driveway. "Remember where California Avenue crosses Governor's?" "Yeah, pretty sure." "Turn left, then take your third right. Second house on the right." "See you there." Andy waited until Dylan backed around his truck and out onto the road. Then he followed. **** "Whoa. Nice." Andy looked around Dylan's living room as Dylan locked the front door. "How long have you been here?" "About two years." Dylan tossed his keys onto a table near the door and turned toward Andy. "Need to get things clear." Andy nodded. "I've been out for a couple years now," Dylan said. 13
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"Yeah, ditto." Hoping against hope, Andy continued. "So... uh... you a top or bottom?" "Top. Did my share of bottoming, will do it if the mood hits me." Dylan closed the distance between them, backing Andy up until he bumped into the door. "There's a bit more to it, though." Andy wanted to hit the floor and pledge himself to Dylan's pleasure right then and there. Instead, he remained standing, just in case. "Like what?" "I've been into the BDSM scene since college, albeit covertly back then." Dylan braced a hand up on the door by Andy's head, and with his other, he gripped Andy's left hip. "Yes or no? Tell me now." "Yes," Andy muttered. "Fuck yes." He barely got the words before Dylan's mouth met his own. Andy hadn't known what to expect, but it sure wasn't an almost reverent kiss. Dylan took things slow and easy, and no matter how much Andy tried to kick up the tempo, his friend somehow kept it steady and unhurried. Despite all that, however, by the time Dylan pulled back a bit, Andy had to fight to catch his breath. "Where did you learn to kiss?" Dylan chuckled softly, leaning forward to kiss Andy's jaw. "My first master," he murmured. "His first lesson for me involved learning how to kiss a man breathless without doing anything at all." Andy groaned and dropped a hand down to adjust himself in his jeans. Only then did he realized he'd forgotten to remove his underwear. "Uh, I kinda forgot to go commando." 14
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"That can be fixed." Dylan stepped back, giving Andy room. "Take 'em off." For the first time in his life, Andy knew what it felt like to be under a microscope. He took off his jeans and briefs, then folded them before placing them on the floor. Dylan's gaze swept his body like a caress, and Andy clasped his hands behind his back to keep from touching his hard cock. Dylan, though, didn't resist. The second his long fingers wrapped around Andy's shaft, Andy sucked in a sharp breath. He rose up on his toes and couldn't stop the urge to thrust his hips forward. "Dylan..." "I'll allow you this one night to call me that," Dylan said, keeping his strokes torturously slow and deliberate. "But if we move beyond tonight, it's 'Sir'. Got it?" Andy nodded. Dylan gave his cock a semi-painful squeeze and Andy bit his tongue before adding, "Yes, sir. Dylan. Oh, fuck..." Dylan released him. "Don't move. I'll be right back." Andy did as told, licking his lips as he watched Dylan walk down the hall. Fuck. Gone was the quintessential awkward geek. Dylan Marsh had turned into a confident god. When Dylan returned a couple minutes later, Andy's eyes widened. Shirtless, chest covered in a slight dusting of hair, Dylan's abs begged for Andy's tongue. He stared at the little trail that led down into the open waistband of Dylan's faded jeans. Dylan hadn't even taken off his work boots. "Ever seen one of these?" Dylan held up a medieval looking contraption that roughly resembled a limp dick. 15
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"Um..." "It's a cock cage." Dylan smirked and glanced down at Andy's cock. "It goes on when you're soft." "Does that mean I get to come?" Andy asked hopefully. "You do." Dylan walked into the living room, motioning for Andy to join him. "Right there," he said, pointing to a dining room chair sitting against the wall opposite the couch. "Jerk off for me." Dylan relaxed on the couch, cock cage in one hand, and spread his thighs. He rubbed his own crotch while Andy sat on the chair across from him. Andy had never jerked off for anybody, but the thought of doing it for Dylan made every nerve in his body tingle. "Spread your legs," Dylan said, voice low. Andy did as told, scooting lower until his balls rested on the chair edge. "Yeah, like that." Andy licked his lips and started touching himself, slow at first. Dylan groaned softly and it encouraged Andy to do more. He cupped his balls with one hand and rubbed the slit of his cock with the thumb of the other. He hissed and his hips jerked upward. "More. Feet up on the edge. Show me your asshole." Andy had to squeeze his cock tight to keep from coming right then and there. Panting, shaky, he shifted until he got into position. He lifted his balls and shuddered at the hungry gaze focused on his ass. "Stroke it," Dylan grunted. He set the cock cage down and pulled out a thick cock. "Yeah," he moaned, shivering as he 16
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began pumping his own cock in time to Andy's movements. "God, I've wanted you so fucking long." "Dylan..." "Dreamed of spreading you open, fucking your ass..." "Oh, God..." Andy sped up, jerking faster. "Don't stop," he whispered. Green eyes met his. "Want my cock?" Andy nodded quickly. "How about my hand?" "Fuck!" Andy bucked, head hitting the wall as come shot over his fist. He barely caught sight of Dylan going still for a split second before the man came right after him. "DDylan..." Dylan went sagged on the couch. "Now that's what I fucking needed. Come here." It took a second or two for Andy to convince his legs to move, but he managed to get over to the couch. He stood before Dylan and hissed softly when Dylan gripped his cock. Andy stayed as still as humanly possible while Dylan gently worked his dick into the cage. The plastic form fit, snugly but not uncomfortably. A metal clasp held it closed at the top. "It's kinda tight," he said. "Just wait." Dylan winked up at him. "Do you know what a safe word is?" "Yeah." "Pick one then." Andy thought about it for a minute, then grinned. "Pascal." Dylan chuckled softly. "Pascal it is." "What happens next?" 17
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Dylan hefted Andy's encased cock in his palm. "Now it's time to play." He teased a finger behind Andy's balls and rubbed Andy's hole. Andy's knees threatened to buckle beneath him. "And time for you to learn control." [Back to Table of Contents]
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The Feel of Steel By G.R. Richards Steel was my reward. I could see the pride gleaming in Big Boy's dark coffee eyes. Yes, he scolded me, chastised me, even punished me when I was naughty—I deserved it then—but he also encouraged me when I was good. And lately, I'd been very good. That's why he suited me up with the stainless steel cock lock. He knew the old plastic one was uncomfortable. It didn't fit right. It was just large enough that it let me get erections, and there were even a few times when old habits turned me on so bad I ejaculated on my computer chair. That wasn't supposed to happen. There was no joy in it, for me. Big Boy made me clean up after myself. His reactions to my misdeeds were highly parental. He never got angry when I slipped up. He'd say he was "disappointed with my behavior," and he'd take Friday night away from me. He was right to do so. I didn't deserve the pleasure. Big Boy had a good reason for caging my cock. From the time I started working from home, my dick prevented me from accomplishing anything. My dick, in combination with the abundance of internet porn, I should say. I'd open a file, stare at the damn thing for a few minutes, and then open my internet browser and start watching sweet slave boys sucking off guys in leather harnesses. I'd reach inside my sweats and pull out my hard cock. I'd tug on it, jerking off until I came all over the underside of my computer desk. It was a mess down 19
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there. Porn was my compulsion. Work got shifted to the backburner. I'd masturbate the day away, and have nothing to show for it but my exhaustion. I nearly lost my job. Until I met Big Boy, I never realized there was such a simple solution to my problem. I needed to give control of my cock over to somebody else. That was it. That was the miracle cure. My cock caused me nothing but trouble, so I put it in Big Boy's firm but fair hands. He put me in my plastic cage and my problem was solved. Nearly. I could still click onto my favorite websites. Sure, I couldn't masturbate the way I used to, but as I said before, the old cock cage wasn't a perfect fit. It allowed me to get a little hard. If the scene on screen involved leather and three or more guys, I would lose it. I tried not to, because my cock wasn't mine anymore. I'd transferred ownership of my erections and ejaculations to Big Boy. I'd agreed only to experience orgasms with him, and only when he said it was all right. When he said it was time, I could come. When I snuck a finger up my ass because my cock was locked up tight, I was defying his rules. This was bad behavior. I'd be overcome with guilt as I pulled a dildo and some lube from the cupboard. I'd place it on my computer chair, sit down, and milk it with my assring. Inside that ugly old cock cage, my dick would grow fat. It would threaten to burst the plastic chastity device that failed to keep me from getting myself off. When I was lucky, I came with great gusto. When I didn't come, it was blue balls for a week. I always confessed my sins to Big Boy. He was, after all, the keeper of 20
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my cock. He deserved to know what it had done all day. I knew I shouldn't defy Big Boy, but it was a compulsion. The porn, the will to orgasm... I wanted pleasure, I wanted instant gratification. I didn't want to wait. I was Big Boy's wayward puppy. He tried to housebreak me, but I acted on impulse. I wasn't obedient. I wasn't well-behaved. Poor Big Boy. I was such a bother to him, back then. It took time, but Big Boy succeeded. He trained me to save my orgasms for him. Cheating with myself—and with internet porn—was still cheating, and that brand of disobedience would never be tolerated. To celebrate my newfound virtue, Big Boy brought home the stainless steel cock lock. "I've heard good things," he told me. "It wasn't cheap, but it should be very comfortable. You won't have to worry about getting hard." It was a Friday when he unpackaged my new chastity device at our dining room table, setting the gleaming metal sheath against wood almost as deep brown as his skin. On Friday nights, Big Boy set me free. He never said so, but I knew he derived pleasure from bringing me to orgasm. After a week in captivity, my cock was always desperate to show him how big it could grow in his hands. My erection was his baby. He created it out of the nothingness that was my flesh and blood. That's what had taken me so long to learn: any erection of mine that was not Big Boy's creation was a bastard child. The only virtuous erections were those he brought into existence with his sheer force of will. It was chemistry and magic. 21
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"Come over here," he said. He sat in a wooden chair by the table. "Come take a look at your new home." He was talking to my dick. It had its own will—he'd convinced me of that. Like a seemingly timid animal, my cock would get out of control if he didn't cage it. I approached from the far side of the room, walking slowly. The table could just as easily have been loaded up with diamonds, rubies, and aquamarine. I was in awe. "Thank you," I said, though I'd thanked him many times already. "You deserve it. You've been very well-behaved these past few months." Big Boy spoke in long, drawn out words when he was pleased with me. "It's handmade." I savored his paceless, almost drawled speech. It was so much more pleasant than the curt snips he issued when he scolded me. "It should fit." I stared at the pieces of metal that made up the new home for my cock. The sheath-like tube was the most beautiful piece of artistry I'd ever owned. It was a cock unto itself—a long, curved, gleaming piece of steel. Steel. Of course it would fit. It looked like a steel replica of my own penis, complete with a piss slit at the base. It was gorgeous. But the cage was comprised of more than just that one piece. The artful chastity cage had an anchoring device inside the tube so I wouldn't be able to pull my cock out once it was locked up. At a pace as slow as his speech, Big Boy laid out three metal cock rings against the dark wood. The only factor that differed from one to the next was size: a small, a medium, and a large steel cock ring, and all gleamed with the varied colors of the overhanging chandelier. Like the steel 22
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tube, the rings were breathtaking in their artistry. I would only need the medium-sized one, I suspected. This new device went leaps and bounds beyond my old plastic cage. It looked like the cock ring would attach to the penis-shaped steel tube by a small rod. The rod had a little hole in it that fit into a pin on the cock ring. There was also a square pin that fit through the square opening at the top of the shaft tube. That little device would keep my metal cage from twisting and turning while I wore it. The cock lock was both complicated and deceptively simple. My heart palpitated when I envisioned the shining piece between my legs. It was like a suit of armor for my penis. Of course, Big Boy had taken possession of my cock long ago. Although the mass of flesh between my legs was no longer mine to have and to hold, I still took pride in the image of my dick cloaked in gleaming steel. "Will it be cold, do you think?" I asked. I reached out to touch and Big Boy only smiled, so I took the metal sheath in my hand. "It is cold." I held it to my face. "And smooth." Big Boy pushed out the chair next to his with the toe of his tan sock. He wore khakis on Fridays. Big Boy always wore suits to work during the week. On casual day, he could never bring himself to dress down much. "Nobody in their right mind would to entrust their investments to a black guy in jeans and a sweatshirt," he said. "I sure as hell wouldn't." I took the chair as an invitation, and sat down beside him to stare at the gleaming hunk of metal in my palm. It looked heavy, but it wasn't. It looked like silver, but it wasn't that either. 23
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"Put it between your legs," Big Boy said. "Or in your armpit. That'll warm it up. I don't want your cowardly dick shrinking away when I fit you with it." Big Boy was always thoroughly reasonable. He made sound decisions. That's why I trusted him with my cock. If other people trusted him with their millions, the least I could give him was power over my lowly penis. As instructed, I set my new armor in the hot spot between my thighs and closed them up tight to let the metal warm up. "Thank you," I said yet again. Big Boy smiled, but said nothing. I didn't mind that. I could have lived in the affection of his smile. It warmed my body as my body warmed my cock tube. Big Boy wasn't harsh with his prisoner, and despite the impression I may give, he wasn't interested in controlling every aspect of my being. My cock called him Master. Not me. He didn't have power over my whole life, just over my wood. "Friday night," Big Boy said. I knew what that meant. "Time for release." He didn't have to say anything else. Who wanted it more: him or me? Or my cock, with a mind of its own? Taking the metal shaft tube from between my hot thighs, I placed it on the table alongside the three cock rings. I stood briefly to shift out of my pants and underwear, and then sat again on the wooden chair with my legs wide apart. Big Boy nodded. The devilish glint in his eye told me he was impressed. I didn't need to wait for Big Boy to bark instructions at me. By now, I knew the ropes. I could take it upon myself to undress in preparation of his approach. 24
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The key was on a chain he wore around his neck. When he was at work during the day, I had no hope of accessing my dick. I'd given everything over to Big Boy. Now he unbuttoned his crisp cotton shirt and pulled it off his wide chocolate shoulders to hang it neatly over the back of his chair. His gold chain shimmered under the chandelier. Nothing looked so good as gold against his dark skin. Nothing would look better than steel against mine. Though I knew I was getting ahead of myself, I drooled for the new cock cage. Cupping my balls in his strong hand, Big Boy leaned in close. He pushed the key inside the little lock at the top of the ugly plastic cock cage I'd never have to wear again. The metallic clink of the latch popping open made my heart race. He brought the lock out from the little hole where it secured my clear plastic cock cage to its matching ring. He took off the old enclosure, detaching it from adjoining pieces. As Big Boy's hands fiddled to remove the components, I suppressed the urge to get immediately hard. Big Boy might have allowed it, but I wanted to show him I could exercise self-control. After all, I'd given my erections over to him. It was up to Big Boy to determine when I could get hard, and he hadn't even touched my body yet. At least, not purposefully. When he took off the cock ring, I was free. I was completely uninhibited. I was naked, out in the open. The palm of Big Boy's hand supported my balls, and he stared down at them. I looked into his face, but his gaze didn't break from my flaccid dick. Was he trying to make it hard with his eyes? I couldn't tell. 25
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Big Boy folded his fingers around my package, and I struggled internally to keep it soft. I knew I couldn't manage. My whole pelvis was getting warm and tingling, with centralized sensation in my balls as they pooled in Big Boy's palm. His firm fingers circled my dick as he stood from his chair and brought me with him. I knew what would happen next. The same thing always happened after he'd removed my cock cage on Friday evening. "Come on," he said, tugging me from the dining room by my growing shaft. "Let's get you cleaned up." It was time for my shower. Since I was naked already, I stood outside the tub and ran warm water while Big Boy stripped out of his khakis. Pulling aside the shower curtain, he tugged me into the spacious stream of steam by my unyielding erection. When the shower water ricocheted off Big Boy's chest and struck mine, I felt oddly debased. When he pulled me closer and the fresh water from overhead flowed down my skin, I felt cleansed. As the keeper of my cock, Big Boy took care of it as much as he punished it. Grabbing a bottle of mild body wash from the tub ledge, Big Boy lathered up a dab of it before taking my erection between his big, soapy hands. My body pulsed under his knowing touch. "This hard-on is mine," he said. "I know it is, Big Boy. They're all yours now. I don't want an erection if you don't create it." Big Boy smiled like the wise master. "I'm very proud of you," he said with a paternal nod. "You've come a long way in a short span of time." He stroked my soapy cock with both 26
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hands, teasing it and making it bigger. Big Boy was everything to me—lover and friend, father and brother. Already, I could sense weakness in my knees. I knew I'd have to stand until Big Boy let me come, but the idea of staying upright all the while made me nervous. I wasn't sure I could last. Washing the suds from my dick, Big Boy pulled me in close to his hard chest and swung me around so the shower pelted my back. He controlled my cock, and my cock controlled me, so in a roundabout way, he was master of my whole self. I wasn't sure if he realized that, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. As much as he had power over my cock, he worshipped it, too. Maybe that's why he wanted all my erections to himself. Maybe that's why he locked it up and let the tension build throughout the workweek, until he could focus all his energy on the give and take. Sinking to his knees on the tub floor, Big Boy wrapped his full lips around my cockhead. It took all the control I could muster to keep myself from releasing a week's load on his tongue. I wanted to dig my fingers into something, but his shaved head presented nothing to latch on to. I couldn't very well grab the tiles. I had to satisfy myself with placing my hands on Big Boy's huge shoulders as he moved his face closer to my pelvis. The shaft he devoured looked pale in comparison to his pink lips, but I could hardly be jealous as he sucked my cock deep inside his mouth, could I? Wrapping a powerful arm around my ass, he took my erection in hand and moved his head back and forth in swift 27
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repetition. As I watched his face fly and his fist jerk my cock, I recognized his mercy. He would let me come soon. He wanted to get me off quick, and I knew exactly why: he wanted to suit me up. He wanted to see what I'd look like inside the steel cock lock. Otherwise, he would have gone for the slow seduction, the long drawn out fuck, and the extended putting off of orgasm. Not this Friday. This time around, he sucked me like crazy. He pounded my erection with his fist as the hot shower pummeled my back. I trembled. My thighs shook, and I knew from the whining sounds his throat made that he wanted me to come. Even so, I had to wait for explicit instruction. Big Boy let my surging cock fall from his mouth. In a whirlwind of motion, he rose to his feet and turned me sharply around so the steamy water struck my front. In no time, he circled my waist with his inescapable arm. His hard chest met my wet back, and I could feel his monster lodge itself upright in my crack. When he writhed in the cleft of my cheeks, I wanted so badly to feel his big black cock tear into my asshole. But it wasn't my place to ask. It was all up to Big Boy. He was so close behind me now, I could hardly perceive the separation between his body and mine. When he took my erection in hand, we became a mass of hard, writhing pleasure. He was a tease to fuck my ass crack without getting inside me, but the dexterity with which he pumped my cock compensated for the sweet torment. Hot water fell hard against my front, splashing and spurting against the white 28
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tiles as Big Boy jerked me off. I nearly felt faint at the enormity of sensation. My groin pulsed in anticipation as Big Boy placed his soft lips against my ear and said, "Come." I wouldn't make him wait. My cock was his. He controlled it. When he told it to come, it came. No argument. After a week of restraint, there was no holding back. The jizz seemed to rise up from my toes and through my thighs in transit to my dick. His fist raced against my shaft, urging hot cream up and out of my cockhead. My load flew past the downpour to splash against the shining tile, white on white. Big Boy didn't stop throttling me, even as my come surged. Every spurt of jizz travelled a shorter distance than the one before it, but my dick seemed endlessly explosive. I thought I would never stop coming. Big Boy held tight to my shaft. He locked it in his fist as he writhed against my backside. His body was so close to mine, he felt like an integral part of me. Big Boy was a part of me. He knew me better than anyone and, as he pumped his erection up between my ass cheeks, I knew he was about to come. With his hard chest flush to my back, Big Boy held completely still. I didn't move either, except to tighten up my ass cheeks around his big cock, and then release, tighten, release. He didn't make any noise that I could hear over the raging shower, but he held me inescapably close as a thick stream of hot come shot up my back. His cream felt incredible against my skin, and his body pressed so close against my 29
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back that even the shower water couldn't wash it away just yet. We stayed in that position, Big Boy's arms wrapped around me, streams of sparkling water pelting my chest, until the warmth turned tepid and my toes went pruney. Big Boy washed the come from our skin and our shower tiles before I turned off the flow. When we stepped out of the shower, he wrapped me in a plush, tan bath towel and took the greatest care in drying my spent cock. He always dried me like that because he was convinced I'd take advantage of myself, given the slightest opportunity. It's possible he was right about that, but I'd never find out the definitive answer. My cock was only ever set free in his presence. Big Boy slipped on his silk dressing gown, but kept me naked as he brought me back to the dining room. The cock lock waited. When I glanced at the old plastic cage, a feeling like schadenfreude glowed through my chest. If everything worked out with the gorgeous piece of steel, I'd never have to wear that ugly fucker again! Unless, of course, I misbehaved and Big Boy had to punish me with it. He sat down and I followed suit, moving my ass as close to the edge of my chair as I could come without falling off. Taking the medium-sized metal ring from the table, he fit it behind my balls and around the base of my cock. His clean, hot hands on my flesh aroused my mind and my heart, but my dick did not respond. Good thing. A hard-on would never fit inside that beautiful steel tube, and I was desperate to feel it hugging my cock. 30
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The next step was new to me: Big Boy picked up a thin steel rod with a rubber noose at the end and fit the steel into the hole at the top of my metal cock ring. When that was secure, he fit the rubber noose behind the head of my dick. "This holds your cock against the end of the tube," Big Boy explained. "It'll keep you from pulling out once you're locked up." It was a little like having my meat on the rack, but it didn't hurt. Anyway, I was a willing victim of Big Boy's torture device. With the steel tube between his hands, Big Boy held his palms before me like he wanted me to blow on a set of dice. I blew on the cock lock. "It isn't cold," Big Boy said. "It's room temperature." Holding my outstretched penis by the base, he brought the steel tube to my tip and slid it on with the greatest of care. Steel hugged me from every angle. The cock lock was a perfect fit, and Big Boy was right: the metal wasn't cold in the least. This was the sensation I'd always wanted with the old cock cage. It held me tight. When Big Boy locked me up, the metal sheath gripped me all around. The steel shaft might have been cast from my own cock—that's how well it fit. I stood to see my reflection in the darkened window at the side of the house. My skin looked pale from head to toe, with the singular exception of my shining steel dick. I looked like a superhero, or a super-villain, or maybe a bionic man. A surge of adrenaline coupled with lust launched through my veins. I'd never been so turned by my own image, but my cock didn't stand a chance. The metal sheath hugged it so tight it 31
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had no room for erection. My meat was trapped in its artful casing. It couldn't budge. "Well?" I asked Big Boy as I strutted around the room for his viewing pleasure. "What do you think?" Big Boy wasn't often rendered speechless, but I could tell from the glazed-over look in his eyes and the slight part between his mute pink lips that his mind had turned to lust. A sudden flash came across his round face. Desire ignited in his eyes. His left foot tapped against the hardwood floor. His fingertips rapped on the dark brown table. His big body was a mass of indecision beneath his silk dressing gown. He'd only just suited me up in my gleaming metal armor, and already he wanted to unlock me. We'd been together long enough that I recognized his whims. My dick was locked up tight with no room to grow, but I wondered how long it would be before lust got the better of Big Boy. The choice was entirely his. My cock belonged to him. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Tanny and the Cage, A Hammer Story By Sean Michael "Tanny? Are you okay?" Jim was dear. A little naive, a little blinky, and dear and God knew Tanny loved the man, but why he'd agreed to come out to lunch when he and his master had been at odds was beyond him. "I'm okay, man. Just a little tired." He'd been sleeping on the sofa. Billy'd been sleeping in the bedroom. They'd had one of those stupid fights that had gotten uglier and uglier, then they'd both stomped off, hurt and angry. It was ridiculous. Stupid. Silly. And he was this close to just going home and asking Billy if they could just make up. Jim nodded, then smiled at Jack. "He says he's fine, Jack." "No, he's not. But if he wants us to pretend that he is, we can do that." Jack pointed to his menu. "The desserts here are to die for." Tanny kicked Jack under the table, just lightly. "Which one's best?" Jack raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't push it. "The cheesecake mousse. Hands down." "I want that, then, and a chocolate brownie." He wanted to call Billy. He grabbed his phone, turned it over and over in his hands. 33
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"You two are really fighting, huh?" Jim shook his head. "That sucks." Jack rolled his eyes. "What is it you always say? If you want something just ask for it?" "Yeah. It's easier than waiting. I'm gonna hit the bathroom, just real quick. Brownie and cheesecake, yeah?" Jack was right. It was time for him to call. Jack smiled at him, nodded. "If you don't come back, we'll get it to go and drop it off later." Jim patted his leg. "Everything will be better soon, Tanny." "I hope so." He trotted over to the bathroom, locked the door behind him and sat on the sink, his fingers dialing immediately. Billy picked it up after the first ring. "Tanny." "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight anymore. I love you." That should be clear enough. "Oh, Tanny. I love you, too. Come home." "Okay." He headed out, not even waving at his friends. "Are you home right now? I'm at Green Oak." He started jogging. Five minutes. He was five minutes away. "I am. Are you on your way yet?" "Uh-huh. Five minutes." "Good. I'll be ready for you." "I love you." "I know, love. I've missed you, hmm?" "Me too. I'll be right there." He clicked the phone closed and ran faster, feet slapping on the pavement, then up the stairs. 34
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The door was already open, Billy waiting for him there. Tanny didn't even stop at the top step; he just leapt into his Master's arms. Billy caught him, pulling him close and covering his mouth. His fingers slid around Billy's head, pulled them close together, holding on. The kiss deepened, Billy's tongue pushing deep into him. Making up was vastly better than fighting. He arched, his cock hard, full, leaking in his jeans. "Beautiful, needy boy." "Yours." He was going to come, to cream his jeans. Billy dragged him inside, the door closing with a slam. He reached back, locked the door. No interruptions. None. "Good boy." They kept moving, headed down the hallway toward their bedroom. "Your boy. I hate fighting." Billy's broad shoulders, strong body felt better than using, better than anything. "My boy, through and through. Even when we fight." "Yes. Yes." He kissed all over Billy's face. Groaning, Billy fell onto the bed, pulling him along. His hips were working, driving against his lover, his orgasm right at the surface. "You're not thinking of coming, are you?" "Not thinking." There was very little thought going on, really. Billy laughed and rolled him underneath the strong body, kissing him breathless. He groaned, legs wrapping around Billy's hips, demanding a little. 35
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"No coming," Billy growled. "Not 'til I say so." "Fuck." He wasn't going to be able to hold out. No way. One of Billy's eyebrows went up, his master staring down at him. He moaned, stared back, hips still moving. "Did you hear me?" "I.... Yes. Yes, Sir." He was going to shoot. Billy was pure sex. Billy's eyes held his, their bodies pressed tightly together. Then, slowly, Billy lowered his head to bring their mouths back together. No fair. No fair. He cried out into the kiss, entire body on fire as he shuddered. Billy swallowed his cry and deepened the kiss, tongue pushing into his mouth as the strong hips ground him down into the mattress. Billy was trying to make him come, and it was going to work. He shot hard, unable to stop, his body needed too much. Billy's tongue slid out of his mouth, sharp teeth biting at his lips. "You came." "You made me." "You should have told me you weren't going to be able to hold back." He blinked at Billy. "My mouth was full." Billy chuckled. "Not the entire time." Billy kissed him hard. "It's been too long since you wore the cage." "It'd been too long since you kissed me like I was yours." He brought their mouths together again. 36
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Billy kissed him, hard and deep and long, not letting up for the longest time. His body started moving again, his hands exploring his lover's shoulder. When the kiss finally ended, Billy taking a huge breath, his lover smiled down at him. "It's just been too long, hmm?" "Yeah. I'm sorry we fought. It was silly." "It was. I'm sorry, too. We should have focused harder on each other instead of stubbornly stuck to our own guns." He cupped his hand around Billy's cheek, just touching, his smile stretching his cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah." Billy nuzzled into his hand. "You should be worried now, boy. You have my focus. My whole focus." "I'm not worried." This was his Billy. He'd never been in better hands. His lover beamed at him. "Good." Then Billy's smile turned wicked. "And I hoped you enjoyed that orgasm. It's the last time you'll be able to come for a long time." "That's no fair..." He loved this game, this banter between them. "No, it's fair. What's not fair is that it's been so long since you've worn the cage. Asking you not to come earlier was asking the impossible." Billy's hips slid against his, circling, rubbing the mess inside his jeans against him. His nose wrinkled. "I need to clean up, Billy." The hand on his hip squeezed a little, making him gasp, groan. "Sir." "Does my water boy want a shower?" As if Billy didn't know the answer to that one. 37
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"Yes, Sir. Please." A shower. A touch. A spanking. To soar higher than anything. "Sounds good. A little cleaning up, a little spanking for not telling me you couldn't control your orgasm, maybe a dildo, definitely the cage." Sometimes it was like Billy knew just what he was thinking. "Shh. I'll get hard if you keep talking." "And we don't want that. I'll have to save the talking until after we have the cage on." He groaned, leaned up and bit Billy's shoulder a little. Billy just laughed and hauled himself up, began to strip. Tanny got up, stripped off the gross clothes and wiped himself off a little. He hated being dirty here. "Come on. The water will take care of that." Billy's gaze was heavy, admiring. He nodded, hand sliding into Billy's. "Are you done working for the weekend?" "I am. We have the whole weekend together. Of course, you're not coming again until sometime next month." Billy squeezed his hand and led him to the bathroom. "That's just mean." A couple of days was one thing. A month was just evil. "No, it's been too long since we did any training at all. We've let life get in the way, and look where it's led us." Billy turned on the shower. "Where did it lead us?" He took the rubber band out of his braid, finger combing the long mass. "Us fighting, not sleeping together." Billy shook his head. "Nowhere good." 38
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"I don't understand." "What don't you understand, love? We let stuff like the cock cage, the spanking, the binding slip away because we were too busy with other stuff. And then we had a big fight over stupid little stuff." "So... it was all my fault?" He wasn't 'training' and so they fought? "What? No, love. I'm not blaming either of us. What we do, it isn't you or me; it's us." Billy ran a hand along his back. "If we have to blame someone, it's my fault." He leaned into the touch. "Can't it just be that we were both bitchy and tired and shit got out of hand?" "Sure. But doing what we do keeps us from getting bitchy and tired and out of hand." Billy gave him a wink and dragged him into the shower. Tanny chuckled, conceded the point. Their lives needed to have... high. He was pushed under the spray, Billy's hands following the same path as the water. He stretched up into the water, letting it pour down over him, rain on him. He could hear Billy humming, the sound familiar, happy. His hair got heavy, dragging his head backward. Billy's hands disappeared for a moment before coming back slick and soapy, cleaning him. "Mmm. Billy, so good." He peered at his lover, curious to see if Billy wanted to be Sir or Master or Billy right now. His thigh was given a sharp slap. His lips parted, and he moaned. "Sir." "Now it's so good." His heartbeat sped up a little, his cock firming. 39
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"You're going to make it hard to put you into the cage, boy." That single word made him shudder. He loved that, hearing Billy call him boy. Billy continued to wash him, hands firm and sure on his legs, between them. His prick filled, his balls drawing up as Billy stroked him. "Boy..." Billy looked up at him, a wicked glint in his eyes. He looked back. "What? You're touching me." "And I'm going to have to let you come again if we're going to get that into the cage." Smiling, Billy leaned forward to kiss his rising prick. "I love how responsive you are." "I need you, your touch. I never wanted anyone like I want you." "And you never will, boy." That little growl in Billy's voice made his cock fill even more. "Never. Never; I'm your boy." Tanny stretched tall, hands above his head, offering his whole body. Billy slid his hands up along his skin, seeming to touch all of him. He hummed, moving into the touch, so happy. "Sexy, stunning boy." Billy lapped at his lips. "Sir." He caught Billy's tongue, sucked it. Billy hummed, hands going to his ass and squeezing hard. It was easy, to rock back into the touch. One of Billy's hands let go, the spank solid and loud. "Love spanking you in the shower." "Sadist." They both started laughing, the old joke warm and fond and still funny. 40
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Billy swatted his ass again, a little harder this time. That made him gasp, made him hum deep in his throat. "Now you're paying attention." Billy swatted him again, and then again. "Yes. Always. I need." He wanted Billy to spread him out, make his body sing. A few more smacks landed on his ass, and then Billy stepped back. "Time for the plug—the spanking's better that way." His groan slipped from his lips. Billy looked pleased by his response. Billy turned the water off, and he grabbed the towels, drying Billy off. His lover's prick, already half hard continued to grow as Tanny touched him. He slowed his motions, touching more thoroughly. "I do love it when you pamper me, boy." Tanny eased onto his knees, his long, wet hair heavy as he dried Billy's feet and legs. "While you're down there..." He looked up, towel dried his hair real quick. "Hmm?" "I haven't come yet today." He rubbed his cheek against Billy's cock. "That doesn't seem very fair." "No, no, it doesn't." Billy smiled, hand sliding through his hair, pushing it over his shoulders. Billy's prick was hot, the flesh barely tinged with salt. He loved the feeling of Billy's cock, the hot skin parting his lips. A low groan drifted down from Billy. So hot. 41
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"I love your cock." He groaned, took Billy in, sucking the man like the fat prick was a Popsicle. "Good. Love your mouth." Billy's fingers tangled in his hair, moving him on that heavy cock. "Gonna come down your throat, boy." His cock jerked, bobbing in the air. Billy's hand wrapped around his head, the thick cock pushing in and out. Tanny swallowed around the broad head every time it pressed in, needing Billy's pressure. "Yes. Yes." Billy muttered and groaned, hands tightening on his head. He let his Sir take it all, all of him, all his need. Moaning now, Billy moved faster, fucking his mouth. He could feel Billy's cock swell even harder. He took Billy in to the root, pulling hard, demanding. Billy shouted his name, hips pushing the thick cock even deeper as come poured down his throat. He drank his lover down, swallowing hard. Billy's hold loosened, hands stroking through his hair now. Cleaning Billy's cock with his tongue, Tanny hummed, making it last. When at last it slipped from between his lips, Billy stroked his head. "Your turn, now, boy. Gonna make you lose your mind and then lock your prick up tight." He leaned into the touch, body aching. "Yes, Sir." "Stunning, beautiful boy." Billy bent and kissed him, slowly drew him up so he was pressing against the solid body. They moved together, rocking nice and slow. He barely even noticed that Billy was slowly moving them toward the 42
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bedroom. It didn't matter. What mattered was his lover, their need. They eventually tumbled onto the bed, still kissing, Billy's hands doing magic to his skin. Love. Love. Love. Need thrummed through him. Billy finally pulled out of their kisses, his hands framing Tanny's face. "Stay there. I'm getting a plug. Maybe that vibrating one..." Tanny arched, groaned softly. "One last orgasm before we tame the beast." Billy winked and gave his cock a good, solid yank. "Not a beast..." His body followed the touch. "No?" Billy chuckled, continued to stroke him. "No. No, I'm not beastly. I'm a good boy." The words made his cheeks heat. Billy hummed, fingers sliding across his cheek bone. "You are, love. You're a very good boy." He cried out, pushed into the touch. "Want you to make me high." "I will. You know I can." "Yes. Yes, Sir. Please." "Roll over. Hands and knees." Tanny moved without hesitation. He heard Billy's happy hum, and the sounds of his master looking through the dresser drawer for the plug. He moaned, his cheeks clenching, tightening. "Here we are. Both size and vibrations. Perfect." His cock throbbed, ached, and he wished the cage was on already. Billy came back to the bed, fingers sliding on his ass. 43
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He pushed back into the touch. "Master. Please." "Patience, boy." Billy slapped his ass. "I'm in charge here." "Fuck." His hips rolled, cock leaking. "That's coming." Another slap landed, and then a slick finger pushed at his hole. His body squeezed, trying to keep Billy in. "Needy boy." That finger pushed deeper, then slid out, then in again. "Yes. Yes." He groaned. "I wish..." He shook his head. Billy's finger disappeared and he was given another swat. "You wish what?" "I..." He shook his head. He didn't like talking. Billy's hand landed on his ass again. "I said tell me, boy." "The cage. I wish it was on. Stop pushing me!" He hated admitting that. "But we learn such wonderful things when I push." Billy moved back off the bed and went to the toy drawer again. He shook his head, curled into himself and tried to remember how to breathe. "Lie on your back for me, boy." Billy grabbed the cock cage and returned to the bed. Tanny sobbed into his hands. He was crazy. Insane. A nut. But he moved. Billy settled between his legs. "Come for me." Then Billy's lips wrapped around the head of his prick and his master swallowed his cock down. "Sir!" He screamed, his balls drawing up tight as his orgasm slammed through him. 44
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Billy swallowed him down, throat working the tip of his cock. "Love. Love. Love." He was soaring, his body all tingles. Billy pulled off slowly, tongue-bathing him clean. He groaned, swallowing hard, fingers tangled in the sheets. Patting his cock, Billy took the cage and set it around his prick. The metal was cool, slick, and comfortable, fitting him easily. "I'm sorry." "For what?" He moaned, reached for his Sir. "I don't know." Billy closed the little lock at the base of the cage, hand running over the metal and his flesh. He moaned, arched into the touch. "Now the plug and spanking will be more intense, hmm?" "Everything will." He twisted, his abs taut and hard. "Mmm, my stunning boy." Billy's hands slid over his body, fingers dragging on his skin. "Yours." Please. Please, he wanted to fly, to be high. "That's right. Mine. Now, back to your hands and knees, boy." He struggled to his knees, his toes curling, over and over. Billy's fingers slid across his hole, up and down before one slipped in. Tanny could feel his body trying to grab the touch, pull it in deeper. "Sweet, needy boy." Billy pushed in a second finger, both going deep. The urge to move was huge, unavoidable. "So sexy, too." Billy moved with him, negating his attempts to push into the touches. 45
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His forehead dropped to his folded hands. "There we go." Billy started sawing his fingers in and out, pushing deep and rubbing Tanny's prostate, then pulling out again. His cock started to swell, to press against the steel, and he whimpered, the ache and pressure so big. "You like that, boy? What feels better? This?" Billy's fingers pushed in deep and hard. "Or this?" His master's other hand slid along the cage. "Oh, fuck. Oh, Master. Please, don't touch!" "You do know the more you say that, the more likely I am to touch and touch and touch." And Billy did, fingers moving between steel and flesh, touch like fire. "I said please..." He twisted, tried to pull away. "Polite, but still pushy." Billy teased the slit of his cock as the fingers inside him disappeared. He shook his head, crying out, pulled away from that touch. The smack to his ass was loud and hard. "Fuck! Fuck!" Burned. It burned. "Plug's coming, and then you'll get a real spanking." "No..." Fuck, he was going out of his mind. "Yes. Not your choice, remember?" "Fuck. Fuck, you make me crazy." He needed more. "I make you fly." Another swat landed on his ass. Tanny wouldn't answer that, no matter how true it was. Billy pushed three slick fingers back into him, stretching him quickly, spreading around the lube. His body knew just how to move, how to take those fingers in deep. 46
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Before he was ready, they disappeared again, the plug, cold and hard, pressing against his hole. His body shuddered, stilled, the cold distracting him. Billy twisted the plug and then slowly, so slowly, pushed it into him. His lips parted, spread like the plug spread him. "So fucking pretty." His hips rolled, fucking himself on the plug. "Tsk, tsk. Always so pushy." Billy pulled the plug out, leaving him empty. "Tease..." Billy loved that he pushed. Billy loved forcing him to stop. "A tease would leave you hanging. I won't." The plug pushed back in, deeper this time. It was thick, solid, stretching him. Billy hummed happily and kept pushing, the plug going deeper into him. "Fuck..." His head ducked between his shoulders. "Yeah, that's what I'm doing." Billy pulled the plug out partway and pushed it back in again. Then again, fucking his ass. His cock ached, flesh pressing against the cage. So mean. He thought Billy was humming again, and then he realized it was the plug, the thing starting to vibrate as Billy settled it in place in his ass. "Oh. Oh. Oh, God." He crawled forward, trying to escape the sensation. It followed him, though, deep inside his body, and Billy grabbed his hips, pulling him back so Billy's prick slid along his crack. His answer was a whimper, jerking forward. "Too much?" Billy asked, the vibrations getting stronger. 47
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"I. I. I... No. No, God. It's so much. Don't stop." "Vibrations, plug, cage and spanking." Billy's hand landed on his ass. "It's a heady combination." He sobbed, pulling forward. Billy moved to sit on the bed and patted his lap. "Come here. You can't pull away from me on my lap." "I'm sorry. I can't help it." His nerves were overloading. "I know. That's why I'm setting it up so you can't do it." Billy's hands ran over him, warm and gentle as Billy helped him get into position. The position made his cheek hot, but he began to relax. "Lovely," murmured Billy, hands rubbing over his spine. Then the first smack hit his ass. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." His legs spread, ass jerking. Billy's reply was more spanking, hand finding a good, solid rhythm. He burned, head down, throat working. Both ass cheeks, the top of his ass, and the top of his thighs; Billy's hand made lit his skin on fire. The tears started, the burn taking him over. "Sweet boy. My boy." He nodded, the agreement caught in his throat. "How's your prick, boy?" "Aches." So good. "Good. Gonna keep it in its cage for weeks, boy. Gonna remind you just how good it is.' He shook his head. "No... Not so long." "Yes, I'm the one who gets to say so." "No fair. I'll go crazy." "I know. It'll be so good." 48
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Tanny groaned, shook his head, the vibrations inside him huge. "It will." Billy's swats stopped, instead he rubbed Tanny's ass. "Help me." Billy hauled him up so he was sitting in his master's lap, plug vibrating, ass burning, cock aching as it tried desperately to swell. "What do you need, boy?" "I don't know. You. You. I need you." "Right answer, boy." Billy took his mouth, tongue pushing in deep, filling him. Their bellies slammed together and he opened, ass working the plug as Billy loved him. He could feel the pleasure building in his balls. There was nowhere for it to go, so it built and built as Billy's hands moved on his abused ass. "Fuck me. Please. Fuck me hard. I want you to come inside me." Just like that, the plug was worked from his ass, the lack of vibrations sudden, almost sharp, and Billy spread his legs, tilted back. "Guide me in." He grabbed that heavy prick, rubbed it against his hole once, then pushed down onto it, the shaft scraping all the way in. "Oh fuck, tight." Billy groaned, bit his lower lip. "Want you. Want you hard." He started moving, taking more, harder, faster. "Gonna come for me, boy?" Billy asked, pushing his hips up, meeting his movements to make it all more. "Gonna explode inside your body?" 49
Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
"Only... only happens like that with the sound." Except he couldn't get hard, and the orgasm was going to come—not fast, not like without the cage. "Not true and you know it." Billy rolled them, putting him on the mattress, and started pounding into him. He screamed, the sound tearing out of him. More. He needed more. Billy gave it to him, moving hard and faster. Every time Billy's thighs hit his ass, the burn pushed through him. Pressure built up inside him, and he sobbed, bucking violently. One of Billy's hands moved to his chest, fingers tugging at his nipple ring. Pleasure made him jerk, semen slicking the inside of the cage. "Let your body go, Montana. Let it give me your pleasure." "Sir..." His world was spinning. "Boy." His body shattered, his need too big, too much. "Yes. Yes, boy. Love. Montana. Mine." His lips parted, but all he could do was nod. Billy's face went slack, the thick prick jerking inside him, filling him with Billy's heat. He groaned, kept his hole squeezed tight, keeping his lover inside. Billy's lips covered his, the kiss stealing what was left of his breath. Home. His heart was home. Settled. Finally. "Love you, Montana." "Love." He hummed, so happy. "Better?" 50
Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
"Mmmhmm. Just about perfect. You?" "Home." **** [Back to Table of Contents]
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Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
Contributors' Bios Mychael Black What do World of Warcraft, Spongebob, cooking, writing, and an unnatural addiction to Mountain Dew all have in common? Not a damn thing, which is what makes Mychael Black an interesting bird indeed. Born in north Alabama, Mychael now resides in north Mississippi. Having run the gamut of labels in regard to gender and sexuality, Mychael now shuns society's views on normality and embraces a poly-everything attitude. Call Mychael her or him; it doesn't matter. Just keep reading the books. Sean Michael Often referred to as "Space Cowboy" and "Gangsta of Love" while still striving for the moniker of "Maurice," Sean Michael spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the kama sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to "Chicago." Check out Sean's webpage at www.seanmichaelwrites.com/ GR Richards 52
Toy Box: Cage by Mychael Black
There's a reason guys growl for G.R. Richards Erotica. You would never know it by the love of public television documentaries and great food in high-end restaurants, but G.R. Richards pens some of the world's steamiest guy-on-guy stories. Be on the lookout for Richards' two hot Christmas stories, *Ivy League* and *Vintage Toys for Lucky Boys*, from Dreamspinner Press, *Devil's Eyes* and *We the Bus People* from Torquere Press, *The Brothers of Hogg's Hollow *from Amber Allure, and *A Descent into the Mailroom*, a gritty BDSM office menage tale from eXcessica Publishing. Richards is also a contributor to *Rainy Days and Mondays *(Torquere Press) and many upcoming anthologies including *Someplace in the World *(Torquere Press), *Men at Noon, Monsters at Midnight *(STARbooks), and *Skater Boys* (Cleis Press). www.grrichards.webs.com/ ****
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