The locker room was steamy, noisy, guys toweling off, lockers slamming, showers hissing. Joey had just finished rinsing off, hair still dripping, towel slung low on his hips. He wasn’t thinking about much, just Justin, as usual. The way he’d whimpered. The way he’d called himself princess like he meant it. Like it made him more of himself, not less.
Then something caught his eye. A twink, maybe early twenties, rail thin, smooth all over, walked past in nothing but flip-flops and a towel that barely clung to his hips. The towel slipped for half a second.
Joey blinked. There it was: a small metal cage wrapped around the kid’s cock. Silver, snug, tucked neat between shaved thighs. No shame. No rush to hide it.
Joey’s whole body jolted. By the time he looked again, the guy had rounded the corner to the showers. Gone. But the image stuck.
That neat little cage. The way it framed the boy’s body. The way it told a story, what it suggested. Joey’s stomach flipped. He dried off fast, got dressed faster.
The A/C was rattling, trying its best. Joey sat cross-legged on the floor, still slightly damp from his post-gym shower, the scent of eucalyptus clinging to his skin. Adam was perched on the couch above him, shirtless and relaxed, a cold beer sweating in his hand. A soft jazz playlist was running in the background, one of Adam’s quirks, no matter the mood.
Joey shifted. He didn’t usually squirm around Adam. But this wasn’t usual.
“I saw something weird in the locker room today,” he said.
Adam looked over, eyebrow lifted. “Yeah?”
Joey hesitated. “Some guy was wearing a cage. Like… a cock cage.”
Adam’s expression didn’t change. But something in his posture stilled. The big-brother vibe deepened.
Joey kept talking. “I didn’t mean to stare, it just—hit me. Something about it. Made me think.”
Adam set his beer down. “You ever seen one up close before?”
“No.”
Adam nodded. Thoughtful. Then he said, “It’s a serious thing. It’s not just about kink. It’s a kind of commitment.”
Joey swallowed. “Commitment to what?”
Adam’s voice stayed even, but quieter now. Slower. “To a role. To a truth. To a way of being in your body.”
He leaned forward a little.
“There are men,” Adam said, “who are supposed to live from their cocks. Who are meant to lead with that—power, size, drive. That’s their center. Their identity. Their function.”
He looked Joey in the eye.
“And there are others,” he said, “whose cocks were never meant to lead. Whose pleasure lives somewhere else. Whose power begins where their cock ends.”
Joey’s heart was pounding.
Adam kept going. “Some men, like my guy, Noah, like your boy, maybe, they carry a different kind of submission. A deeper one. Something that blooms when you take away the distraction of hardness. When you say: I see you, I claim you, and I’m going to take care of the part of you that always felt too small.”
Joey’s mouth went dry. “You mean—like—”
“I mean,” Adam said gently, “for some men, their cock makes more sense when it’s caged. When it’s quiet. When it’s soft. Not because they’re broken. Not because they’re ashamed. But because they’re finally allowed to be what they are.”
He paused. Let that settle.
“A princess doesn’t need a dick to be loved. She needs a king who knows what to do with her pussy. Even if that pussy’s behind a cock.”
Joey sat still. Not breathing. Eyes wide. Adam watched him a moment longer. Then picked up his phone.
“You wanna see what that looks like?”
Joey nodded, slowly. Adam opened his photo app. Found a folder. He didn’t speak as he handed the phone over.
Joey took it. Noah, kneeling. Wearing a sleek metal cage. Arms behind his back, chest bare, expression soft, proud, even. Another shot: Noah lying in bed, cage peeking out between his thighs, Adam’s hand resting gently on his stomach. The third: Noah, bent over, presenting. A ribbon was tied around the base of the cage, like a gift.
Joey’s throat clenched. He handed the phone back. Adam took it without comment. Just watched him.
Joey finally whispered, “That’s beautiful.”
Adam nodded. Silence. Then Joey asked, “What did it mean to him?”
Adam smiled, faint. “It meant he didn’t have to pretend anymore. That someone else saw what he couldn’t say. And that I loved that part of him more, not less.”
Joey was quiet. Thinking about Justin: his cheeks, his tits, that smile, his hips, his little gasps when Joey praised him.
“Would you do it again?” he asked.
“In a heartbeat,” Adam said.
Joey’s eyes stayed on the floor.
Then he murmured, “I think my girl’s got a pussy too.”
Adam didn’t smile. Didn’t joke.
He just said, “Then maybe it’s time you give him a lock.”
Justin flopped back against the couch, glistening from the gym, towel draped low around his waist. The same cocky smirk played on his lips, like nothing could touch him, like he didn’t have a clue how good he looked stretched out like that. Joey clocked every inch of him and stayed silent.
Until he wasn’t.
From the kitchen counter, Joey walked over slow, carrying something in a small black case. He set it on the table without a word. Popped the latch. Let it open.
Justin blinked at the cage on the table. Sat up straighter.
“You want to lock me up,” he said slowly, “because I’m small.”
Joey’s eyes narrowed. “That what you think?”
Justin looked away. “I mean… you’ve been treating me like your girl. Talking about pussy. Saying I’m your princess. And now this.”
Joey didn’t say a word.
Instead, he stepped forward. Unzipped. Let his cock out—hard, flushed, thick and proud, bobbing slightly as it hung heavy in the air between them.
Justin’s breath caught. Eyes wide. Face flushed.
Joey wrapped one hand around the base, stroked once. Deliberate. Unashamed.
“I’m hard as a fucking rock,” he said, low and slow. “Thinking about you. Thinking about how much I love your pussy.”
Justin opened his mouth, but no words came. Joey stepped closer. Just a few inches away now, cock inches from Justin’s face.
“I don’t want you caged because you’re small,” Joey said. “I want you caged because I want to be the only cock in the room. I need to be.”
Justin looked up, chest rising and falling fast.
“I love that you’re small,” Joey said, voice steady. “I love that when I fuck you, your cock leaks like it’s got nothing left to prove. I love that your body begs even when your mouth doesn’t.”
He knelt down suddenly, bringing himself eye-level with Justin.
“You’ve got a pussy, baby,” he murmured. “I’ve been treating it like one. And locking up that dicklet? That’s not punishment. That’s me taking responsibility. That’s me saying: I got this. You can focus on being my princess.”
Justin swallowed. “But—”
Joey cut him off. “You don’t lose anything. You just give it to me.”
He reached up, cupped Justin’s neck, thumb grazing his jaw.
“You let me cage your cock, take it away, take responsibility for it. You give me the key. And in return—I give you everything else.”
Justin stared at him. Silent. Breath shallow.
Joey smiled, slow and wicked. “Now be honest, princess. Doesn’t that make your pussy wet?”
Justin licked his lips. “You’re too good at this.”
Joey didn’t blink. “I know what I see when I look at you.”
“You’ve been looking a lot,” Justin muttered, eyes flicking down again to Joey’s cock. “Doesn’t mean I need to wear a fucking cage.”
Joey’s grip on his own dick tightened. “You already do. You just don’t know it yet.”
Justin scoffed, but it was weak—barely there. His cheeks were bright red now. His legs had started to drift open again, unthinking.
Joey didn’t move. He just said, calmly, “You’ve been leaking all over me. Squirting on your abs every time I praise you. Your cock’s so eager it’s practically apologizing. You don’t need to lead with it, baby. That’s my job.”
Justin looked away. Joey leaned in. Soft voice. No pressure. Just truth.
“You put this on,” he said, tapping the box on the table, “and you don’t have to wonder anymore. You don’t have to compete. You don’t have to guess what I want. You don’t have to be anything but what you know you are, what I know you are.”
He brushed his lips against Justin’s ear.
“I want that tiny thing locked up. I want that sweet hole open. I want you focused on being pretty, being wet, being mine.”
Justin’s whole body shivered.
“I’m not gonna force you,” Joey said, pulling back. “But if you want to be with me, this is what I need. You give it to me. And you let me take care of the rest.”
Silence. Justin shifted. Slowly. Tentatively. He reached for the box. Paused.
“Do I get a say in when it comes off?”
Joey smiled. Not unkind. But firm. “You get to ask.”
Justin opened the box. The cage glinted under the lamp. Solid. Cool. Shaped like it was made just for him.
“Fuck,” Justin whispered. “It’s pretty.”
Joey reached down, touched Justin’s cheek.
“So are you.”
Justin looked up at him.
And then, with a sharp exhale, he said, “Okay.”
Joey’s breath caught.
“Yeah?”
Justin nodded. “Yeah, King.”
Joey took the cage out of the box.
It was heavier than Justin expected. Real metal. Cool and smooth in Joey’s palm, shaped with quiet precision. He held it like it mattered—like it meant something.
Justin shifted on the bed, towel still around his waist. He didn’t look shy. Not exactly. But there was a tension in his neck, a charged stillness in the way he waited.
Joey sat beside him.
“You sure?” he asked, voice low.
Justin didn’t look at him. He just nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. Let’s see if it fits.”
Joey smiled.
“Stand up, princess.”
Justin obeyed. Dropped the towel.
His cocklet was already half-hard, twitching with nerves. Joey watched it with open affection. Not mocking. Not teasing. Just his.
“You really are pretty down there,” Joey murmured.
Justin flushed.
Joey picked up the base ring first—solid, matte steel, warm from his hands. He crouched in front of Justin and took his time guiding it behind Justin’s balls, lifting and adjusting, pressing his palm against the soft skin of Justin’s pelvis to ease it into place.
Justin hissed. Not in pain—just in sensation. It was snug. Intimate. He could already feel it change how he stood.
Then Joey picked up the cage itself.
“Hold still,” he said, voice gentle but firm.
Justin didn’t move.
Joey slid the cage forward, guiding Justin’s cock inside. The metal pressed close, cool and unyielding. The tip fit snug near the end, skin peeking through the vented slots.
Justin whimpered—just barely. The weight. The feeling of being contained. His cock tried to swell. There was nowhere for it to go.
Joey clicked the lock in place. It was a quiet sound. But it echoed like a gunshot.
Justin gasped. Joey reached up, thumb stroking Justin’s hipbone. “It’s on.”
Justin looked down at himself. The cage gleamed between his thighs. It didn’t hide him. It framed him.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “I feel…”
“Yeah?” Joey asked.
“I feel good.”
Joey stood. Kissed his forehead. “Good.”
Then he stepped back and sat down, arms draped across the back of the couch.
“Let me look at you.”
Justin shifted his weight. The cage made every movement more conscious. More precise. He ran a hand down his abs—paused at the metal between his legs. His fingers brushed the lock.
“Feels heavy,” he said.
Joey grinned. “That’s the point.”
Justin rolled his eyes. But he didn’t cover himself. He stood there, letting Joey watch.
“Turn around.”
Justin hesitated. But he turned.
Joey exhaled. “Goddamn.”
Justin’s ass, round and smooth, looked even fuller with the cage pulling his hips forward. He tried to stand casual, but the posture wasn’t casual at all. He looked offered.
Joey adjusted himself, cock thick against his thigh.
Justin peeked over his shoulder. “Seriously?”
Joey didn’t flinch. “That’s what your pussy does to me.”
Justin turned back around, cocklet twitching uselessly inside the cage.
“Fuck you,” he muttered.
Joey laughed. “Nah, princess. That’s never gonna happen now.”
Justin blushed hard. But he didn’t say stop.
Later, after dinner, after Justin had gotten used to the weight of the cage between his legs, Joey leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him scroll on his phone like nothing had changed.
“Princess.”
Justin looked up.
Joey nodded toward the bedroom. “Go put on that thong.”
Justin blinked. “What thong?”
Joey raised an eyebrow. “The one I know you’ve got buried in your drawer. The black one with the thin straps.”
Justin didn’t move.
Joey stepped forward, voice low. “And the little pleated skirt.”
Justin scoffed. “Bro—”
“Bikini top too.”
A beat of silence.
Justin looked away. “You’re serious.”
Joey nodded. “Dead serious.”
Justin set his phone down. His cheeks were pink. But his cage twitched. Joey watched him go.
A few minutes later, Justin stepped back into the room.
The thong clung to him, straps high on his hips. The skirt, black and short, barely covered anything, hem fluttering with every step. The bikini top stretched tight over his chest, small triangles framing his pecs like they belonged there.
His cocklet, locked in shining steel, peeked out from beneath the skirt when he moved.
Joey sat on the edge of the bed, one hand slowly stroking his thick, hard cock. He looked Justin up and down.
“Turn around.”
Justin did.
“Slower.”
He obeyed. The skirt flared as he moved, teasing glimpses of his ass, the cage, the leash ring at the tip.
Joey’s voice was velvet. “You look perfect.”
Justin didn’t reply. Joey stood, still stroking himself, walked over, and ran a hand down Justin’s bare back.
“This is how I imagine you in my head,” he murmured. “Soft. Pretty. Locked.”
Justin shivered, flushed and fidgeting, that pleated skirt fluttering every time he shifted his weight. The cage peeked out beneath it like a secret half-revealed. Joey didn’t rush. He just circled once, slow, eyes dragging over his princess like he was studying a painting.
Then he sat back on the edge of the bed.
“C’mere.”
Justin stepped closer, one hand instinctively tugging at the hem of the skirt.
Joey smirked. “Leave it.”
Justin dropped his hand. Joey reached for him, slow and easy, and took hold of Justin’s hips. He tugged him closer, until Justin stood between his knees, looking down, lip caught in his teeth.
“You feel different?” Joey asked, voice low, almost lazy.
Justin swallowed. “A little.”
Joey brushed his thumb over the metal cage, slow, almost absentminded. “You walk different.”
Justin shifted. “Feels weird.”
Joey looked up. “Good weird?”
Justin hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. Good.”
Joey pulled the skirt up just a little. Just enough to see more of the cage. He let his fingers trace the metal lines, the slit where Justin’s cocklet tried to twitch against its prison.
“You’re already leaking,” Joey said softly. “It’s like your little dick knows this is right.”
Justin flushed deeper. Joey leaned forward. Kissed the cage. Just once. Just a soft, deliberate press of lips to steel.
Justin made a sound. Not a moan. Not a gasp. Something smaller. Something like surrender.
Joey looked up again. “You still think I wanted to lock you up ‘cause you’re small?”
Justin didn’t answer. Joey leaned back, pushed his shorts down, and let his cock fall free, thick, flushed, hard.
“This,” he said, stroking it once, “is how hard you make me. You think I need you to be bigger?”
Justin stared. Eyes wide. Breathing shallow.
“I like that you’re small,” Joey said. HIs hand cupped the cage again. “And I like being big.”
Justin didn’t speak. Couldn’t.
Joey stood, towering now, cock bobbing thick and heavy.
“You’ve got a pussy now, princess. You’re locked for your king. You wear skirts and thongs and whatever else we think of. You take my big penis inside your pussy and leak out of your cage, and accept my sperm. You are the one who takes every drop.”
Justin’s breath hitched.
Joey stepped back. “Now get on the bed. Face down. Legs open.”
Justin obeyed.
Joey watched as Justin crawled onto the bed, the skirt flipping up with every movement. The metal cage flashed between his legs—silver and unforgiving, snug against his soft flesh. Justin settled face-down, ass high, legs parted just enough to show the curve of his thighs and the glint of steel nestled between them.
Joey let the moment hang.
He stripped off the rest of his clothes slow, deliberate, like undressing for a ceremony. When he stepped behind Justin, he didn’t touch him, not right away. He just looked.
The way the cage framed him. How the thong’s straps hugged the crease of his hips. The softness of his body now that the cock was out of the way. The helpless beauty of his princess—offered up, locked, his.
He dropped to one knee on the mattress, then the other. Hands firm on Justin’s cheeks. He spread him open, revealing the twitching pucker tucked just beneath the cage.
“Fuck,” Joey breathed. “You’re perfect like this.”
Justin made a tiny sound, half breath, half need. Joey leaned in, kissed the exposed rim of his hole. One kiss, slow and warm.
Justin shuddered.
“That’s a real pussy now,” Joey murmured against his skin. “You feel it?”
Justin nodded, face buried in the sheets. “Yes, King.”
Joey smiled. “That’s ‘cause you’re not fighting anymore. You’re locked. You don’t have to lead with your cock. That’s my job now.”
He traced a finger around the pucker, circling slow, then dipped just the tip in. Justin gasped.
“Yeah. You feel that. That’s your sex organ now.”
Joey pressed in deeper. Just one finger, slow and steady. His other hand slid under Justin’s hips, palm cradling the cage. He could feel it twitching, useless and frantic, trapped and perfect.
“You’re gonna stay locked for me, princess,” Joey whispered. “Every time you leak, it reminds you of what you really are.”
Justin whimpered, hips rocking back against his finger.
“You want more?”
“Yes,” Justin said, desperate.
Joey added a second finger. Spread them a little. Felt how wet he was getting—how ready. He kissed the inside of Justin’s thigh.
“I could keep you like this forever,” he said. “Skirts and thongs and this pretty little cage. A fucking hot sexy girl who needs my big fat dick and thick ropes of sperm.”
Justin moaned, wordless and wrecked. Joey pulled back slightly. Grabbed a pillow and slid it under Justin’s hips to lift him higher. He reached for the lube on the nightstand, kept it close now, always. Warmed it in his palm, then slicked his cock, thick and hard and leaking.
He lined up. But didn’t push in yet.
“Say it,” Joey whispered.
Justin turned his head, lips parted. “I’m your princess.”
“And what does a princess need?
Justin took a breath. “My king’s big fat cock in my pussy.”
Joey smiled, gripped his hips, and pushed in.
All the way. Slow. Deep. Devastating.
Justin’s breath hitched like he was being broken open, but broken just right. His back arched. His fists clenched in the sheets. The cage pressed helplessly against the bed. Joey fucked him slow at first. Long, grinding strokes. Letting the cage press harder. Letting Justin feel every inch.
“You’re leaking,” Joey murmured. “You can’t even stop it.”
Justin moaned into the pillow.
“Good girl,” Joey growled.
He started thrusting harder, deeper, grabbing Justin’s hair and pulling his head up, just enough to hear every sound.
“I’m gonna open your pussy nice and wide,” he said.
“Yes,” Justin begged.
Joey reached down, palmed the cage again, pressing it against the bed as he fucked him harder.
“You feel that metal?” he said. “That’s my lock. That’s your crown. That's what makes a real muscle princess.”
Justin was gasping now, body shaking, hole fluttering around him.
Joey kept going, deep, punishing strokes that slammed into him while the cage kept his cock helpless. It was a surrender on every level. A surrender Justin had never known he wanted. And Joey had never known he needed.
“Take it,” Joey growled. “Take your king’s big fat penis.”
Justin came without touching. A small, twitchy, caged orgasm that left the metal sticky and wet against his thighs. Joey slammed deep once, twice, then came inside, loud and long, burying himself in his princess, cock pulsing, body shuddering.
He stayed like that, pressed tight to Justin’s back, both of them sweating, gasping, skin hot.
After a long moment, Joey kissed the nape of Justin’s neck.
“You were made for this.”
Justin breathed, “Yeah.”
“Good girl.”
Justin smiled. Soft. Wrecked. Glowing. Joey stayed buried in him for a beat, chest to Justin’s back, breath hot at his ear. Then he slid out slow. The emptiness made Justin gasp.
Sperm started to spill, thick, lazy, milky, and Joey caught it with two fingers. He watched it string, then pushed it back in with a slow circle that made Justin’s hips twitch.
“Look at you,” Joey murmured.
He spread Justin gently and let more of it roll out. He caught that too, smeared it over the soft, twitching rim, then dragged a slick line down to the steel. The cage was tacky already from Justin’s little caged climax. Joey rubbed his thumb over the metal, painting them with the mess.
“That’s mine,” he said, voice low.
Justin shivered. “Yeah.”
Joey pressed two fingers back in, knuckles wet, feeling his own load inside Justin and working it forward again. It oozed around his fingers and dripped over his palm. He brought some up to Justin’s lips. Justin parted them; Joey skimmed his fingers over his tongue, then traced the taste along Justin’s cheekbone.
“Good girl,” Joey said. “Wear me.”
Justin made a broken sound. Joey gathered more, slow and patient, and rubbed it into the seam where the cage met skin, claiming, polishing, blessing. He thumbed the lock, left a cloudy print, then painted another stripe up Justin’s taint.
“You know what this means?” Joey asked, voice almost conversational, like they were talking between sets.
Justin swallowed. “Tell me.”
“It means you are officially the keeper of my cum, all my sperm goes inside you, your mouth, your pussy, on your skin,” Joey said. “Caged. Leaking for me.” He slid his messy fingers back in and Justin yelped softly. “Means when you see me, you remember what’s inside you and where it comes from.”
Justin’s breath stuttered. “Fuck.”
Joey smiled against his neck. “Means I’m gonna be inside you every day and you’re gonna be full of my sperm. Means you’re gonna learn exactly how to clench and keep it.” He pressed the heel of his hand to the cage, gentle pressure that made Justin whine. “Means this cage is part of you.”
Justin’s eyes fluttered. “What else?”
Joey withdrew, gathered another slow ribbon of spill, and rubbed it into Justin’s hole with lazy circles, like lotion. “Means you’re gonna play with my cock and I’m gonna play with your pussy,” he said. “Skirt hitched, pussy on display. Means a key on a chain around my neck at the gym, and you knowing exactly where it goes to.”
“Means,” Joey added, voice even quieter, “you come to me on a bad day and I put you face down, spread you, and fill you until you stop thinking. And then I rub it in like this—” he massaged the rim with slow, loaded circles, “—so you remember what being a good girl feels like.”
Justin nodded into the pillow, wrecked. “Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” Joey said. He scooped one last pearly streak and traced a small crown on Justin’s lower back with a fingertip, crooked, crude, perfect. “Means you’re marked. King’s seal.”
Justin looked back, eyes glassy, lips parted. “What do I do?”
Joey kissed the little crown. “You just do what you need to do”
He slid his fingers in again, slow, shallow, just enough to make more of him leak out—and caught his sperm as it ran. He brought it to Justin’s mouth. “Taste what you’re carrying.”
Justin sucked his fingers clean, eyes on Joey the whole time.
“Good girl,” Joey said, satisfied. He pressed his palm over the cage once more, like a brand settling. “Tomorrow you gonna wear this?”
Justin nodded, dazed. “Yes, king.”
Joey lay beside him, hand lazy on the steel, feeling tiny, helpless twitches against his palm. They both stared at the ceiling for a beat, listening to their breath.
“What’s it mean to you?” Justin asked, voice rough.
Joey thought, then answered without dressing it up. “Means I don’t have to guess anymore,” he said. “Means I bring the cock, and you bring the pussy, and we stop pretending it’s anything else.” He squeezed the cage gently. “Means you’re mine in a way that lasts.”
Justin exhaled, long, shivery, then reached back to lace fingers with Joey’s, both their hands resting over steel. “Okay,” he said. “I can do that.”
The sunlight was soft through the curtains, but Justin was already awake.
He shifted under the covers, muscles tight, thighs slick with sweat. He reached back and felt the weight of the plug deep in his ass; it was a constant, throbbing presence. Late in the night, Joey had gentle woken him up and told him he couldn’t sleep thinking about his sperm leaking out all night. Joey had lubed up Justin’s sore pussy and slipped it in.
His cage throbbed too, his cock tiny, aching, helpless. He hadn’t dreamed, but his body had. His hips were already moving in small, involuntary rolls. His hands found the sheets and twisted them tight. He was leaking and locked, full and aching, his hole still loose from the night before.
Joey was asleep behind him, one arm thrown over his waist. Justin squirmed back against him. The plug pressed deeper. The cage shifted. The ache climbed higher.
“King,” he whispered, voice rough.
Joey stirred. Grunted. His hand slid lower, over Justin’s soft chest, across his stomach, down to the cage. His fingers wrapped around it, thumb tracing the tiny slit of pre-cum already wetting the tip.
Justin let out a little whimper.
“Already desperate?” Joey’s voice was low, sleep-thick. “You just got locked last night.”
“I can’t help it,” Justin breathed. “It’s so tight.”
Joey pulled back the covers. The sight made his cock twitch: Justin on his side, face flushed, legs drawn in slightly, the tiny metal cage glinting in the morning light, the base of the plug just barely visible between soft, reddened cheeks.
“You leaking already?”
Justin nodded. “Been dripping since I woke up.”
Joey pulled him closer, grinding his morning wood against the back of Justin’s thigh.
“Goddamn,” he muttered. “You’re really like this now, huh?”
Justin arched into him. “I need it.”
“You don’t need to cum, princess,” Joey said, kissing the back of his neck. “You just need to be filled.”
Justin moaned. Joey flipped him onto his stomach, pulled the plug out slow, wet, warm, dragging against that needy rim. Justin gasped, hole clenching around the loss. Then Joey lined up. No teasing. No warm-up. Just one slow, deep press forward until his cock was all the way inside.
Justin shuddered. “Fuck—”
“That’s what you needed,” Joey said, voice steady. “Not to jerk off. Not to hump a pillow. You needed your king’s cock in your princess pussy.”
Justin whimpered, caged cock twitching uselessly, rubbing against the sheets.
Joey leaned down, lips against his ear. “You’re not a boy with a small dick. You’re my girl with a perfect hole.”
Justin pushed back against him, needy, shameless. He wanted it all. Wanted to be taken, plugged, pumped full again. And Joey gave it to him.
He didn’t rush. He fucked slow, deep, steady, claiming every inch. Making sure Justin felt it, remembered it. Joey’s hands gripped his hips, then slid around to cage and belly, pulling him tight.
When Joey came, it was with a growl, low, possessive, spilling deep into Justin’s pussy with a final thrust that knocked the breath out of both of them. He stayed inside for a long moment. Breathing. Letting it settle. Letting Justin feel the warmth spread through him.
Then he pulled out, slow. Watched his own sperm slide out in a lazy trail, caught in the tight grip of Justin’s well-used hole. Justin groaned, face buried in the pillow.
Joey kissed the back of his neck. “That’s one,” he said.
Justin looked over his shoulder, “One?”
“Knowing you’re all caged up is probably gonna make me want to fuck you a lot today. You up for that?”
Justin nodded, breathless. Joey grabbed the plug again, pressed it against that messy, leaking hole. Justin moaned into the sheets.
“Gotta keep it in,” Joey murmured. “Keep it warm. Keep you pregnant.”
The plug slid back in with a wet sound. Justin clenched around it instinctively. Joey smiled, rubbed his hand across Justin’s ass, then gave it a little smack.
“Good girl.”
Justin shivered.
The morning had settled into that lazy stillness. Sun pouring through the windows. Joey on the couch, half-watching some fight replay on mute, half-tuned into the weight of his own body, loose, heavy, satisfied.
But his cock was hard again. Half-chubbed under his shorts, twitching like it already knew what time it was. Then he heard the sound of bare feet on hardwood. Joey looked over.
Justin walked in slow, like he was walking into a weight room, like he owned the floor. Thick quads, calves tight. Still flushed from the shower. He wore a black thong that disappeared into the hard curve of his glutes, a white string bikini top stretched tight across his pecs, and nothing else.
Except the cage.
The metal glinted under the pouch of the thong, clearly visible through the fabric, nestled between smooth thighs. Small. Pressed in. Helpless. Joey’s breath caught. He didn’t even realize he’d sat up straighter until he was leaning forward, hand gripping the edge of the cushion.
Justin stood there with that cocky half-grin, hands on his hips, just letting Joey look.
“You wearing that for me?” Joey asked.
Justin raised a brow. “You see anyone else here?”
Joey licked his lips. His cock throbbed. “Spin around.”
Justin didn’t hesitate. He turned, slow and wide, showing off his ass, perfect, high, framed by the strap of the thong. Then he turned back, one eyebrow still raised.
Joey grunted. “Now go put the skirt on.”
Justin laughed, but he didn’t fight it. He disappeared down the hall, and Joey stayed where he was, breathing hard, his cock fully hard now and pressed up against the seam of his shorts.
When Justin returned, the effect was unreal.
Short gray pleated skirt, resting high on his waist. Still in the thong, still in the bikini top. Still caged. His thighs looked even thicker below the hem. His whole vibe hadn’t changed—still the same bro, the same jock who wrestled and lifted and grunted through RDLs. But now dressed to be seen. For Joey.
“You look like the hottest fucking porn star ever,” Joey said.
Justin smirked and stepped closer, eyes locked on Joey’s bulge.
“You hard already?”
Joey pulled his cock out through the leg of his shorts, thick and flushed, glistening at the tip. “Been hard since you walked in.”
Justin grinned, stepped right between his knees, and straddled him. Joey reached under the skirt and palmed his ass, fingers finding the plug that had stayed in since the morning ride. He gave it a little tug.
Justin gasped.
“You ready?” Joey asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Justin said, bracing on Joey’s shoulders. “Need it.”
Joey eased the plug out slowly, watching Justin breathe through it. He held it up for a second, then tossed it onto the couch beside them. His cock was slick with pre already. He angled it up, pressed the head against Justin’s open, waiting hole.
Justin lowered himself onto it with a practiced ease. Not sloppy. Not loose. Just—open. Welcoming. Like his body had been trained for this. Like Joey’s cock belonged there now.
They both groaned as he sank down.
Joey’s hands gripped his thighs, just under the skirt, pulling him closer, guiding him into a grind. The cage bumped lightly against Joey’s abs with every roll.
Joey looked down, watching himself disappear inside Justin over and over again, then back up at the bikini strings pulled tight across his chest, the soft flex in his arms, the skirt bouncing just enough to tease.
“You ever think we’d end up here?” Justin asked, breath catching as Joey shifted deeper.
Joey grinned. “Not like this.”
Justin smirked and rolled his hips harder. “You like it though.”
Joey grabbed his ass, pulled him down harder. “I fucking love it.”
Their rhythm built, fast then slow, fast again. Justin’s breath was ragged, jaw slack, fingers digging into Joey’s shoulders as he moved. Sweat started to form again at his temples, his neck, across his chest.
Joey stared up at him, high on the view, his caged boy in a thong and a skirt, riding like it was his job, like he wanted it in his guts.
“Gonna give you more,” Joey grunted. “Wanna put another load in your pussy.”
Justin’s whole body clenched. “Do it.”
Joey gripped his hips tighter, slammed up into him once, twice, then buried deep.
He came hard. Sperm flooding into Justin again, joining what hadn’t leaked out from earlier. Joey held him there, balls pressed to skin, cock pulsing deep.
They stayed like that for a long second, breathing, sweating, twitching. Justin sagged forward, face against Joey’s shoulder. Joey wrapped his arms around him, still inside.
“You feel full?” Joey murmured.
Justin nodded. “Yeah.”
Joey kissed the side of his neck. “Good.”
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