My life has settled into a new routine. When I come home from work in the evening, I patiently wait for my formidable neighbor, my new Dominatrix Mistress, to summon me, which now happens daily. She’s set her mind on experimenting with a treatment she’s long dreamed of, or so she finally confessed to me.
Under the Cage’s Grip: An Obsessive Submission
My little bird has been locked in its cage ever since I swore my loyalty, growing more and more frustrating, as you can imagine. My desire and arousal torment me endlessly, to the point it’s become a true obsession. I struggle immensely to focus at work or during my rare moments of freedom.
My groin has become a true torment, the urge to relieve myself overwhelming. It’s been a month under the cage, and I haven’t had a single chance to masturbate or even have the slightest erection. Naturally, I’ve never dared complain to my Dominatrix Mistress, already knowing her response.
- “So, how are you enjoying your new life?” she asked one evening with a strange, mischievous smile.
She doesn’t always make an effort to receive me. It’s not uncommon to see her in pajamas or leggings when she orders me to carry out my household chores.
That day, however, she had slipped into a particularly sexy, flowing dress that accentuated her ample chest. Her legs, encased in black nylon, rustled with every step. Perched on her stilettos, with her hair in a bun and glasses, she was especially arousing—and she knew it.
- “Isn’t it too hard being caged?” she continued.
Denying it would have been foolish.
- “Yes, Mistress, with your permission, I’d like to relieve myself.”
- “We’ll do better than that. I want to see how mad with arousal a man can become. You’ll be my guinea pig. I’m afraid you have no choice, alas.”
The Cruel Ritual: Torment Under Control
From that day on, she subjected me to a new regimen.
First, she had me undergo a medical check-up with one of her doctor friends to ensure no heart issues would disrupt her plans.
Being in perfect health, she began giving me Viagra whenever she arranged for one of her slaves to visit. This happened two or three times a week. There were three of them, her “dolls to torture,” as she liked to call them. There was Cindy, the chubby, preppy blonde I now knew well; Ariana, a stunning Black woman with an enormous backside; and Jessica, a petite, childlike woman with a spectacular chest.
My Dominatrix Mistress particularly enjoys working on her toys’ breasts.
When one of these three young women visited, they were often required, as an act of submission, to attend to me. The ritual was always the same. My Dominatrix would lock me in a full leather straitjacket, legs, and arms tightly bound, unable to move, my head hooded, lying on a wheeled bench she could maneuver as she pleased.
Under the effects of Viagra, the arousal was already unbearable. Yet, my decidedly perverse neighbor would order her dolls to lick my balls and caged cock for at least an hour. Suffice it to say, the torment was excruciating.
Vibrating Torments: Agony and Frustration
Sometimes, she’d instruct them to use a vibrator, which she’d run over my balls or my caged glans. All the while, I was gagged, with the slave’s panties rolled up and stuffed in my mouth.
I couldn’t stop writhing and moaning, which seemed to greatly amuse Madame. Little Jessica was the only one who appeared to take pleasure in tormenting me. You should have seen the passion and energy with which she devoured my caged cock while kneading my balls.
Once her slaves were dismissed, Madame often used me as a seat, sitting on my face but never granting access to her intimacy. I was only allowed the gusset of her tights and her panties beneath. I think she enjoyed feeling the warm breath of my arousal between her thighs. Sometimes, she’d move in a slow back-and-forth motion over my nose.
This could last for hours while she watched a movie or a series. It wasn’t uncommon for me to feel an unmistakable dampness seeping through her underwear onto my face, which only heightened my frustration and arousal.
Cruel Cage: A Month of Unfinished Torments
She subjected me to this treatment for an entire month—a month of being repeatedly driven to the edge by her slaves, serving as a seat or footrest for my Mistress, with no relief in sight.
Oh, sure, my cock didn’t fail to leak profusely, but I never had the chance to experience a liberating orgasm.
Madame decided to change my cage. She chose a model with wide slots that allowed easier access to my glans. I put it on myself under her supervision, standing under a cold shower to prevent an erection.
The torments resumed with renewed intensity, her slaves now tasked with teasing my glans with paintbrushes during endless sessions, a vibrator wedged under my testicles.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
This seemed to greatly delight my terrible neighbor.
How long would this last?
To be continued…
