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pieces, I followed his quiet instructions. With the ring held closest to my sac, I took my left ball and gently eased it through the ring. The metal was cold, causing my balls to instantly retract, and I swore, thinking it had been kept in a deep freeze somewhere to create that very reaction. Ignoring it as best as possible, I worked my other ball through and felt the ring almost choke my sac as it settled around the base. How the hell was I supposed to get my cock through that too?
    I figured it out for myself and, keeping my head down, I bent my cock in ways contortionists were never taught, all so I could push the tip of my cock through the already packed ring. I was on automatic, slipping into work-mode, concentration and a line of sweat marking my forehead in different ways as I figured out how things fitted together.
    Feeling tight to the point of uncomfortable at the base of my sac, I slipped the silver cage over my dick, and locked it securely into place. The tight space between ring and cage meant my balls were packed tight against the cage, all to stop my dick slipping out.
    “Looks sexy, Jack. Real fucking sexy.”
    “I catch you on my CCTV, your ass is done for,” I said quietly. But I was too distracted to carry through on that threat. It looked weird, my cock all encased in silver, visible in places as my dick pushed against the casing, my balls bound tight against it.
    “Hang on.” I tugged at the silver casing but couldn’t pull it off without using the key. “How the fuck do I relieve myself?” There was a soft chuckle, and I glared around the room. “Don’t take the fucking piss.”
    “The shaft is designed for any needs you have, Jack. Relax.”
    Sure enough, feeling at the far end of the casing, there was a larger space for nature’s call. But I didn’t relax.
    “Twenty-four hours, no longer,” said the voice. “And, Jack?”
    “
What
?” I spat.
    “Night, gorgeous.”
    I didn’t feel like he gave me any privacy; he’d just simply let me know he didn’t want to talk anymore. The hairs on my neck were still pricked, every muscle tense, eyes and ears alert for any other sounds. There was a faint breathing. Maybe? I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t tell with pressure pushing through my head and giving me that whoosh-whoosh sensation in my ears.
    Grabbing the sheet, the blush infecting the rest of my body, feeling the silver shaft slap my thigh as I got in bed, I pulled the covers over my body, pillow over my head, and tried to sleep.

Chapter 5
Don’t... Control It
    Hands instinctively sought my groin as I woke crying out. Sheets were wrapped tight around my waist, and I blindly pushed them down as I curled to my side, pulling my legs up into a defensive position I hadn’t used since I was a kid feeling his first kick between his legs and needing to cradle the damaged goods. Gray and some soft unknown voice had pushed into my dreams and played devil with my morning wood. A normal reaction, but now it felt like my shaft was compressed between a vice and kiln, hot-headed need squeezed so tightly into the cage my cry was the only stress giver in order to release the pain.
    Hurt. It fucking hurt in ways I never wanted to experience again.
    “Don’t—”
    “Stop it.” I cried into my pillow, muscles straining in my neck and face heating from the humiliation; he knew—he fucking knew I hurt because of the hardness going on between my legs; that his culling had kicked in. I thought nothing could top being caught jacking off. Yet this.... I held back tears as I gripped the warmth of the cage, needing desperately to feel my own cock in my hand but with no mind left to know where I’d put the fucking key.
    “...control it.”
    Another cry, I writhed and curled into a tighter ball. “It fucking hurts too much, you bastard.”
    “Control. Pleasure is forcing pain. Take away the cause, cancel the effect. Don’t... fucking... control it.”
    “You better pray I don’t catch you on that