I knew he was getting desperate. The humiliation of that had to be embarrassing for him.
You can only keep a cock locked up for so long before the mind starts to break.
But I didn’t expect to walk in and find that.
It was early.
I’d been in the kitchen making coffee, enjoying my morning while he knelt in his cage at the foot of the bed — exactly where I’d left him.
Or so I thought.
When I came back, he wasn’t kneeling anymore.
He was bent over the mattress, grinding against one of my throw pillows like a pathetic little animal.
The best part?
He still had the cage on.
He wasn’t even trying to get out.
He was just rutting against the fabric, whining under his breath, leaking into my pillowcase like that was going to help.
I leaned against the doorway and watched.
He didn’t notice me at first — too lost in the haze of frustration and need.
Every thrust was slower than the last, like his body was betraying him, like even this tiny scrap of stimulation was too much to handle.
When he finally looked up and saw me, his face went red.
He froze.
Hands clenching the pillow like it could save him.
I just laughed.
Long. Loud.
The kind of laugh that tells you you’re never living this down.
“Couldn’t wait for me, hmm?” I teased, walking toward him.
He tried to stammer some excuse, but I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.
“You know that’s my pillow, right?”
He nodded.
“And you know you’re not cumming without permission, right?”
Another nod, which was so humiliating.
I pressed my knee between his thighs and felt the hard, caged bulge straining against me.
“Pathetic,” I whispered.
“Absolutely adorable… but pathetic.”
I made him keep humping the pillow while I sipped my coffee.
Every whimper, every grind, every drop he leaked into the fabric was mine now.
When I finally took it away, I didn’t unlock his cage.
Didn’t even edge him.
I just put the pillow on my chair — a permanent reminder of what happens when he gets too needy.
He’s been looking at it all day.
I can tell he’s thinking about it.
And I can tell he’s wondering if I’m going to make him use it again.
Maybe I will.
Maybe I’ll film it next time.
Because watching him hump my pillow like a good little pet?
That’s better than any orgasm he could ever have.
💬 Kira’s Question:
If I caught you doing that…
Would you beg me to stop?
Or beg me to watch? Would your sissy boy really come out?