The frantic rhythm of our submission dance finally stuttered to a halt, our bodies heaving, our voices raw from begging. The three of us stood there, a panting, sweaty, caged trio, awaiting our Master’s next command. The silence from the phone speaker was a heavier weight than any hairbrush strike.
”You look so beautifully spent,” Master Ansh’s voice finally purred, laced with dark amusement. ”But your training is never over. Rohan, Aryan—on the bed. Sit against the headboard. Dhruv, on your knees on the floor between them. Now.”
We scrambled to obey, the hierarchy clear. Rohan and Aryan arranged themselves, their legs spread, their caged cocks resting pathetically on their thighs. I knelt before them, the cool floor biting into my kneecaps.
”Dhruv,” Master’s voice sharpened to a point. ”You will jerk yourself off. Just your hand on that plastic prison. I want to see you try to get pleasure from it. I want to see the frustration on your face.”
My hand trembled as I wrapped my fingers around the smooth, unyielding pink cage. I began to stroke, the motion useless, the sensation a distant, maddening echo of what my trapped flesh craved. A whimper escaped my lips.
”Good. Now, Rohan, Aryan. You will take turns. You will fuck his mouth with your caged cocks. I want to hear him choke. I want to hear him gag on the plastic that represents my control. Rohan, you first.”
Rohan’s eyes lit up with a dark fire. He leaned forward, guiding his pink cage to my lips. ”Open wide, you desperate fucking cocksleeve,” he growled, his voice dripping with a possession that mirrored Master’s. ”Suck on my cage like it’s the real thing. Pretend it’s Master’s dick ruining your throat.”
I opened my mouth, and he pushed forward. The hard plastic bumped against the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex instantly. Tears sprung to my eyes as I choked, the sound wet and pathetic.
”That’s it,” Master moaned. ”Listen to that. The sound of perfect submission. Again, Rohan. Deeper.”
Rohan pulled out, letting me gasp for a single breath before thrusting back in, harder this time. I gagged violently, my body convulsing around the intrusive object. Spit dribbled down my chin.
”Switch,” Master commanded.
Aryan moved in, his expression a mix of nervousness and intense arousal. His thrust was less aggressive, more curious, but the effect was the same. The plastic hit my soft palate, and I choked again, my throat working uselessly around the device.
”You’re a natural fucking mouth, Dhruv,” Master said, the praise like a brand. ”You were born to have your throat used by caged cocks. You’re nothing but a hole for my pets to practice on. Keep jerking that pathetic caged dick.”
My hand moved faster on my own cage, the combined sensations of choking and the futile friction pushing me toward a strange, desperate edge. The room filled with the sounds of my gags, their harsh breathing, and Master’s low, approving groans.
After a few minutes of this relentless torment, Master’s voice cut through the filth. ”Enough. That was an adequate warm-up. Now, for the main event.”
We stilled, every ounce of our focus on the phone.
”We’re playing a new game,” he announced, his tone shifting to something deviously playful. ”Truth or Dare: Creampie Edition. Every wrong answer, every refused dare, results in a punishment. And each punishment brings you one step closer to earning my creampie. The ultimate prize. Do you understand the rules, you filthy sluts?”
“Yes, Master!” we chorused, the promise of that reward igniting a fire in our guts.
”Dhruv. We’ll start with you. Truth or Dare?”
My mind raced. Truth felt too vulnerable, too psychological. “D-Dare, Master.”
”A dare. Bold. I dare you to get the hairbrush and spank your own ass, hard, twenty times, while describing to me exactly how much you want Rohan’s cum dripping out of your used asshole.”
A shiver of pure degradation wracked my body. I grabbed the brush, positioned myself so Master could see, and brought it down on my left cheek. THWACK. “One! I want to feel Rohan’s cum leaking out of me, Master! I want to feel it stain my underwear all day!” THWACK. “Two! I want to be reminded that my hole was used for his pleasure!” Each strike was a punctuation mark to my filth, my voice rising in pitch and desperation with every count. By the twentieth strike, my ass was on fire and my words were a sobbed mantra. ”I want to be his filthy, dripping creampie dump, Master! Please!”
”Excellent,” Master purred. ”A perfect start. Rohan. Your turn. Truth or Dare?”
Rohan didn’t hesitate. “Dare, Master.”
”I dare you to put your face between Aryan’s legs and lick his cage through his lace panties until he moans. I want to hear you tell him how pretty his caged sissy clit is.”
A deep blush spread across Aryan’s face, but he spread his legs wider in invitation. Rohan slid off the bed and onto his knees, burying his face in Aryan’s crotch. The sound of him lapping at the lace, of his tongue working over the plastic, was obscene.
”You have such a pretty little clit, Aryan,” Rohan mumbled, his voice muffled by fabric and flesh. ”Trapped and useless, just like it should be. It tastes like submission. It tastes like Master’s property.”
Aryan’s head fell back, a low, shuddering moan escaping his lips. ”Oh, fuck… Rohan…”
”Good boy,” Master said. ”Aryan. Truth or Dare?”
Aryan was breathless. “T-Truth, Master.”
”Truth. When you licked Dhruv’s ass clean of Rohan’s load, what was the very first thought that went through your mind? Be precise.”
Aryan’s eyes went wide. He looked at me, then at the floor, his face burning with humiliation. ”I… I thought… I thought it was the most degrading thing I’d ever done,” he whispered. ”And it made my caged dick throb harder than it ever has. I wanted to push Rohan out of the way and lick deeper. I wanted to be the one to clean him. I wanted to taste both of you.”
The confession hung in the air, so brutally honest it stole my breath.
”Outstanding,” Master breathed, and I could hear the slick, rapid sound of him stroking his cock. ”Such a good, honest slut. You’ve all earned a step closer. But the game is not over. Dhruv. Truth or Dare. Again.”
“Dare, Master,” I panted, my ass still stinging, my throat sore.
”I dare you to beg. Not just a simple please. I want you to look into the camera and beg for my creampie like the fate of the world depends on it. I want to hear every filthy, desperate adjective you can think of. I want you to convince me that your entire existence is worthless unless I’m pumping my seed deep inside one of your needy holes. Go.”
I looked directly into the laptop’s camera, my vision blurry with unshed tears of need. I poured every ounce of my being into the plea.
”Please, Master Ansh,” I begged, my voice cracking. ”I need your creampie. I need your hot, thick, perfect load flooding my guts. I want to feel it painting my insides, claiming me, marking me as your property forever. I want to be your dirty little cumdump, the hole you use and fill whenever you want. I’ll be so good for it, I’ll clench around you and milk every last drop from your gorgeous cock. Please, I’m nothing without it, I’m just an empty, aching set of holes begging to be filled by my Master. Please, gift me your filthy, fucking creampie!”
I collapsed forward, my forehead resting on the floor, spent from the intensity of the beg.
The only sound was my ragged breathing and the heavy silence from the phone.
Then, Master’s voice, darker and more aroused than I’d ever heard it. ”Rohan. Truth or Dare. Final round.”
Rohan’s eyes were locked on me, burning with a mixture of jealousy and fierce desire. “Dare, Master. Always dare.”
_”Then here is your dare. I want you to get behind Dhruv, right now. I want you to position yourself like you’re going to fuck him. And I want you to describe it. Describe in exquisite, nasty detail exactly how you would fuck
