Despite All My Rage, I am Still Just a roo in a Cage

I’ve got a small dog  cage in my living room.  It’s always fun whenever friends from the community come over.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a dog!”

“I don’t.”

Caging was never a type of play I’d been into before, mainly due to lack of exposure to it.  But then a friend had me be the middleman in giving her dog’s cage to another friend.  While it was in my possession, I saw the size of it and wondered if I’d fit, so of course I tried.  It was a snug fit.  I bought one.

It’s just large enough for me to fit in if I stay curled up.  I can get into a semi-comfortable position in it, but that only lasts about 5-10 minutes before I have to find another position.  T and I had tried it a few times now, each time for roughly half an hour.  I found it incredibly sexy to look up at her relaxing on the couch, completely ignoring me.  Between her laptop and her massive collection of books, she’s never short on things to do while I’m in the cage.  Knowing that I was completely at her mercy and couldn’t get out until she wanted to let me out made her power more palpable.

The other night, she had me strip as soon as we walked in the door.  She placed the collar around my neck and had me get in the cage.  Then she simply walked away.  She eased onto the couch, turned on her laptop, and put on some headphones.  (She didn’t want me to hear the music as that makes the time pass faster for me when I can hear it.)  Her shoes off, she positioned herself so her soles were facing me, which was a further way of teasing me with something I constantly crave. This time, she kept me in the cage for an hour.

Extended caging is one of the things we’d talked about trying before.  It’s intimidating but potentially rewarding.  Being brought to the point where I desperately want out, yet she refuses to let me out, is a powerful fantasy.  We definitely had more of that aspect to it this time around.  It wasn’t to the point where I was pulling on the bars and pleading to be let out, but it was enough to start to cause some of that inner panic.  This really drove home the fact that she’s in control.  And it contrasted very well with her calm, aloof demeanor as she relaxed on the couch.  She was relaxed and comfortable, enjoying the evening, while I was tightly confined and wanting out.  This mental/emotional aspect of caging is one that I find the hottest about it.  I also like bondage, so I get off on the physical struggle against it as well.  But once something gets to a point where I no longer want it, that’s when we both get more turned on.  Even though I genuinely want it to stop in the moment, I look back on it later and think, “Damn that was hot!”  This “make it stop” quality is a hallmark of the scenes I think about when I orgasm.

When my cock isn’t locked away in a cage of its own, that is.





One Response to “Despite All My Rage, I am Still Just a roo in a Cage”

  1. Curvaceous Dee Says:

    I read this and I start to tear up with how much I want this and how long I have wanted it. It’s been a desire of mine for years now – I spent time in cages whenever I get the opportunity (in other people’s dungeons, generally) but have never been able to persuade my (vanilla) husband that I really do want one at home please and thank you.

    Your post was wonderful!

    xx Dee

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