How We Trained Our Submissive in a Cage
The first time I locked the cage, she trembled with rage... and came just from hearing the key turn.
The first time I locked the cage, she trembled with rage... and came just from hearing the key turn.
I didn’t have to say it; when I lifted my chin, he already knew I wanted his blows, his spit and his cock buried deep that night.
It began as a game between three, until one night he stopped leaving and I realized that in my own home, I no longer had any say.
I followed her on instinct, saw him quicken his pace with the girl, and knew I wouldn’t let him leave that alley intact.
I thought we were only going to finish a paper, but when she kissed me barefoot in the grass, I understood she was taking me exactly where she wanted me.
The note on the pillow left no doubt: someone was watching her, knew her secrets, and meant to turn her fear into obedience.
He made her watch, obey, and open herself for more—and she discovered that the kink aroused her as much as the cock in her ass.
It began with a simple order that morning and ended with my body trembling, open, and obedient, unsure whether he would let me come.
They took me to the office wearing a collar, and when I saw the men around the table, I understood exactly what they had prepared me for.
My wife ordered me to warm the living room, open the door, and listen as another man used her while I obeyed in silence.
It began with stockings hidden beneath my trousers and ended with me on my knees, obeying while I was dressed to be used.
When she closed the classroom door and smiled as if she already knew what she was going to do, I realized too late that I wouldn’t be the one controlling the game.
When I saw her sandals on the bed, I knew something had changed—but I never imagined I’d end the night breathing against her soles.
I opened the door half-naked, with two toys still warm in the living room, and three strangers smelled my arousal before I said a word.
We entered the sex shop’s private room trembling, but no one imagined how far that woman would take us.
When he pulled that pink plug from his drawer, I understood that my curiosity about pain was about to cross a line I could never forget.
I put on my boots just for the cold, but as soon as I felt the rubber tightening around my legs, I knew I’d end up soaking them inside again.
After a minor mistake, her punishment ends not in tears but in a shower where obedience turns into pure hunger.
I left the office beneath my coat, my body full of vibrations and certain that I wouldn’t be sleeping alone that night.
We pretended to be a couple to avoid creeps, but alcohol, jealousy, and friction led us across a line I could no longer deny.