Caged
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Caged free porn video
Caged
For Paul, by Sissy
"Good morning, Paul."
"Good morning."
"You're in early."
Paul nodded as he signed the register. "I suppose I am."
A court order required Punishment Officers--in Paul's case, Malcolm--to
keep the keys to chastity devices, signing them in and out to their true
key-holders, victims. Like Paul, of adultery, cuckoldry, domestic
violence, spousal abuse, voyeurism, rape, or any of a dozen other sexual
offenses.
After inspecting the columns into which Paul had made his entries,
Malcolm handed him the key. "Have a good day."
"Oh, I intend to," Paul assured him.
Chad--or "Sissy," as Paul now called his ex-spouse--was likely to have a
busy day, Malcolm thought, as he imagined half a dozen things Paul might
have in store for his ex-husband. The thought made Malcolm's own cock
stiffen.
* * *
Chained to the wall of Paul's bedroom, naked, as always, Sissy dreaded
Paul's arrival, despite the fact that Paul would, quite literally, hold
the key that could set him free of the hated chastity device locked
around his genitals.
A ring around his perineum, attached to the cock cage, imprisoned his
prick, the glans meatus of which was penetrated by a stainless-steel
"probe" inserted into his urethra. The cage prevented him from attaining
an erection, although an opening in the end of the device allowed him to
pass urine, albeit with difficulty, since the probe filled most of
Sissy's urethra, providing little room for urine flow from his bladder.
Sissy's inability to attain an erection, the near-blockage of his urine,
and the caging of his cock were ever-present annoyances, which, in
themselves, were bad enough, but the damn device was also a constant--and
humiliating--reminder of his helpless dependence upon Paul, who might or
might not free Sissy's cock from its cage during any punitive session.
For the past six months, Paul had decided not to free Sissy's cock--or not
for longer than a few hours, at most, anyway. Then, while Sissy was
chained to his bedroom wall, Paul stroked the boi's flaccid prick,
tormenting Sissy for hours, but refusing to let Sissy ejaculate. When
Paul had asserted his mastery of Sissy long enough to suit himself, he'd
locked the miserable slut back inside the cock cage and commanded Sissy
to suck his cock.
During the six months of his year-long probation, Sissy had become an
accomplished cocksucker. Learning a variety of techniques, including
teabagging and deep-throating. He'd learned to fellate Paul for hours,
bringing him again and again to the very edge of orgasm, before, after
Paul gave him permission, and not a moment before, sucking him off to the
point of ejaculation--always into Sissy's mouth, of course--after which
Paul ordered the faggot to swallow his cum. Sissy always grimaced at the
command, as if the very idea were abhorrent to him, but, Paul suspected,
Sissy secretly relished the act of completion as much as Paul himself
did. After all, Sissy always swallowed every last drop.
Today, before deciding whether to toy with Sissy's prick--or "clitty," as
they both now referred to Sissy's pitiful, puny prick--Paul had already
decided that, whether or not he teased and tormented the pantywaist,
Sissy would not cum. Instead, Paul would spank his ass. Upon arrival,
he'd brought out the implements and ordered Sissy to "assume the
position!"
Looking sick, Sissy obeyed, dropping to the hard, cold stone floor, first
onto all fours, and then to his elbows and knees, his buttocks, which
were smooth and almost womanly in shape and fullness, high in the air.
"Remember how you cheated on me with that fucking crossdressing bitch
Margo?" Paul thundered.
Sissy gulped, closing his eyes on his gathering tears. When Paul took
that tone, when he asked that question, Sissy knew he was in for a
spanking as harsh and relentless as it would be long.
Long, he thought, and agonizing!
* * *
First, for five long minutes, Paul had rained down blows of a belt
against Sissy's squirming buttocks. The leather had left wide swarths of
red in the pale flesh of Sissy's rump; before Paul was through with the
belt, ten minutes later, after pausing only occasionally, at random, to
let the pain seep deep into Sissy's bottom, his former husband's cheeks
were cherry-red all over, and the adulterous bastard was begging for
mercy.
"You didn't show me any mercy--or respect--during the six months you were
balling that bitch, did you, Sissy?"
Having set aside the belt in favor of the next instrument in his bag of
tricks, Paul brought the wide, thick blade of a paddle down upon Sissy's
unfaithful ass with all his might. The wood was a blur as it flashed
through the air, and the sleek mounds of Sissy's girlish bottom flattened
as the room echoed with the report of the pine against Sissy's blazing
buttocks.
Whimpering, Sissy lunged forward, but the chains prevented his escape.
The paddle streaked forward and down, in an arc ending in another
collision against Sissy's inflamed fanny. The victim lurched, quivering,
but his motion was, again, arrested by the chains.
The paddle fell repeatedly, swift and hard, swatting Sissy's ass in a
staccato of thunderous strikes that left the cheater sobbing and pleading
for mercy.
As usual, though, Paul felt no mercy. If anything, his former spouse's
pleas enraged him further. He substituted a bamboo cane for the paddle
he'd set aside.
Six rapid strokes of the rod against Sissy's bare bottom tore stripes in
Paul's adulterous ex's reddened flesh, among the purple bruises and the
welts that had risen on Sissy's well-decorated posterior.
"Please!" Sissy whined.
The cane flashed, deeply indenting the sufferer's punished buttocks, and
blood trickled down the ravaged cheek.
Sissy screamed. His upper body sagged, his knees spreading on the stone
beneath them. "Don't" he begged, weeping.
Paul struck full force, and the rod parted the flesh and the muscle of
Sissy's buttocks, making a deep, red furrow in the red-and-purple flesh.
This time, Sissy did fall--or would have, had the chains not prevented his
complete collapse.
"Hit!" Sassy managed to blurt out.
The cane fell like lightning, and Sissy shrieked, scrambling on the hard
granite beneath his elbows and knees. "Me!" he screamed.
Another powerful strike, another stripe, and more blood, were Paul's
responses to his unfaithful ex.
"Again!" Sissy blubbered.
The last stroke of the cane cut into the muscles of Sissy's ass like the
edge of a sword, and blood streamed from the laceration, trickling down
both his buttocks and thighs.
The only thought that sustained Sissy was the same one that had kept him
going throughout the last six months' ordeals: maybe, when Paul was
finished inflicting the day's punishment upon him, his ex would show him
mercy, uncaging his cock so that, between today's visit and tomorrow's,
Sissy could masturbate, and the passion of orgasm could, for a moment,
now and again, alleviate the agony burning in his ravaged bottom.
Instead, picking up the spanking implements, Paul left Sissy there, in
the vacant bedroom they'd once shared, alone and helpless again, as he
had been every day for the last six months, locked up with his cock in a
cage.
Tomorrow, Sissy thought, it would be different. Tomorrow, Paul would free
him, free his cock and his balls, for a day, maybe for a week.
For the past six months, every time Paul had paid him a visit, Sissy had
harbored the same hope.
But, he had realized, finally, that such would not be the case.
He'd been sentenced to a year's probation, and he had no doubt at all
anymore, but that his former husband intended to keep him caged, in
spirit, mind, and body.
* * *
Paul was flying his glide-car back to the Global Chastity Bureau, which
had been established two decades ago, as part of the 3013 Sex Crimes
Control Act, which supplied wronged spouses, "male, female, or other"
(the latter designation an umbrella term for LGBT lovers, husbands, and
wives) with chastity devices. (Paul preferred to call Chad's chastity
device a "clitty cage." The vulgarity of the term seemed more
appropriate, and it sounded a whole lot better than "cock cage.")
Thanks to the Act and the Bureau and Sissy's twelve-month-long probation
period, Paul had no doubt but that he would break Sissy's will. By the
end of his probation, Sissy would be, in fact, what he was now in name
only: a complete and total sissy, with no will but to obey and to serve.
The Bureau branch office at which Malcolm had handed him the key this
morning was only a short flight away when inspiration seized Paul.
He dropped the key to Sissy's clitty cage out of his glide-car, and it
tumbled into the lake in The People's Park, where it would lie, at the
bottom, undisturbed, probably forever.
"I lost the key to Sissy's chastity device," Paul would tell Malcolm.
"I'll requisition a replacement," he imagined Malcolm saying.
"No need," Paul would reply. "Hell, I'd likely just lose it again, and I
don't plan to let Sissy out of that cage, anyway, even after he's served
the rest of his probation."
Hester
- 11.05.2020
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