JUSTIN’S POV
games, changes and fears

The cage Master steps off the stage, walks a few steps away and then bends down and draws an ‘X’ on the floor with a piece of white chalk. “This is your spot,” he tells you, “I want you right here.” Your connection with Brian feels vibrant and faltering at the same time as you exit the stage platform to follow the instructions, and as soon as you’re on that ‘X,’ Brian is up and walking to the platform and standing next to Sixty who’s still kneeling on the bench. And though he’s not exactly with you, he’s watching you as the cage Master talks to you. “Seventy-two, I trust you’re familiar with a ball gag?” he asks as he’s handed one by another slave. “Open your mouth.” You stare at Brian as your mouth opens and accepts the red ball as it’s buckled behind your head. You feel the drooling sensation begin almost immediately though you try to fight it, sucking as much of it back in as you can knowing that it’ll be futile in a few minutes. Leather cuffs are placed around your ankles and your wrists and each pair is hooked together, and then the cage Master waves above your head and you look up to see a metal hook tied to a rope lowering above you. He grabs it as it swings and threads the chain holding your wrists between it before snapping it shut. Within seconds you can feel it tugging on you, pulling you up on your tiptoes; your body spins in a strange orbit as you try to steady yourself. “Comfortable?” the cage Master asks feigning sincerity. You nod, “Yes,” because you’re afraid if you don’t, he’ll keep pulling you up and leave you hanging in mid-air. “Good,” he says. Every time your body sways away from him, he palms your ass and pulls you back. After five or six times, he just keeps his hand right there.

BRIAN’S POV
and we should be together babe,
but we're not

Sixty is waiting for you—anxiously and obediently—when you take your place on the stage. You’re a little unsettled because this is not exactly how you expected this afternoon to go. You wanted Justin to be sitting comfortably watching this demonstration and never in a million years thought he’d be watching you bound, gagged, and drooling—and wearing freaking panties. Every time you look at him, you get a weird shiver down your spine; maybe it’s that resilient look in his eyes or maybe it’s the fact that he’s still hard. Your allegiance is to Justin but he’s in good hands; your responsibility is to Sixty at the moment. You assume he’s in his mid-twenties from his floppy hair cut and know from his number that he’s only been a slave here for about a year, but he’s eager.

Boy, is he eager.

You stand in front of him and touch his smooth chest, his stomach, and every time your hand roams somewhere, he whispers, “Thank you, sir.”

“You like when I touch you?” you ask him.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

He answers you still staring at the floor, “Because you’re very handsome, Sir.”

“Is that so?”

“And you smell really good.”

“Really? Do I smell like someone who’s about to punish you for a crime you didn’t commit?”

“I hope so…Sir. I volunteered.”

“I know you did. Was it just to get released from that cage, though? That’s what I’m wondering.”

“No, Sir. It was to serve you.”

“I’ve been told that you’re a bona fide pain slut. Is that true?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well then, bend over.  I'm ready for you to prove that to me."


(Lyrics from Macy Gray's I Try.)