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Some of the best decisions one might make were made when an individual was drunk.

"Hic... o-okay, my pants are off, now what?!"

Not everyone was a Hemingway, however. There were plenty of people in the world who shouldn't make any sort of decisions when they were inebriated, and unfortunately, they were often the people who made too many decisions after a drink or two.

In the case of Exile Huscoon, he was at least ten drinks deep when someone at a party talked him into yanking his shorts off, and the bulge in his boxers was enticing a few people in the crowd to come more than a little bit closer.

"You just sit back and relax," a voice replied, one that was familiar to Exile, and yet, when the morning came, it would be a voice that he didn't recall hearing. The details were already growing fuzzy for the drunken hybrid, who slumped against the shoulder of whoever replied and grinned. "Let me take care of the rest."

"I...I'm warnin' ya, I'll be hicc waaaaaaaay more than you c-can handle," Exile replied, tripping over his words to the point of comedy as he was helped out of the room. The moments in his memory were growing further and further apart, from the way that he was so easily walked out of the living room at the house party, to the point where his boxers were resting around his ankles. Even larger gaps remained between then and the rather pleasant sensation of someone gripping around the base of his exposed manhood, and finally, the horribly uncomfortable feeling of cold, cruel metal against warm, pulsing flesh.

Beyond that, the gaps were more akin to an ocean than a river, and Exile could only faintly remember stumbling back to his apartment. His pants were damming up his bedroom door, keeping it slightly cracked open as the painfully bright light of the rising sun crept through his partially opened blinds.

The headache and hangover that acted as a further wake up call were actually far more pleasant than the sensation of something keeping his thighs from quite touching together, and though he couldn't begin to figure out why, it wouldn't take him long to figure it out.

"Friggin' head," he groaned, as he sat upright in his bed and tossed away some of the covers. They were already halfway on the floor from his inconsistent and tipsy sleep, and even as he came back to consciousness, he felt as though there might be a little alcohol left yet, still swimming around his brain and keeping it from settling back into position. "I haven't been this dizzy in a while. How much did I drink? Damn it..."

Frustration with one's self was a fairly common side effect of a hangover. What was a bit less common was to look down and see that there was something even more inconvenient than dizziness and nausea.

"...The fuck?"

Exile's boxers were tattered from whoever was messing with them the night before, leaving more than a few different holes in the front of them, and a rather obvious one in the back, though he hadn't gotten that far in his investigation. He was much more intrigued with the shimmer of light that bounced off of his crotch, and what could possibly be causing such a thing to happen.

The more he thought about it, the more obvious the answer became. The original source of the discomfort was still a mystery, however, and it was one that Exile was determined to solve as frustration began budding in his mind and overwhelming the sickly sensations of his hangover.

"I am never drinking around my friends, ever again," Exile muttered to himself, as he brought his paw to his forehead and cupped it in his palm. His pawtips rubbed at his own temples, trying to dull his anger in the most natural way possible as his legs began to turn for the edge of the bed. His footpaws came to rest upon the aged carpet of his apartment, and immediately, he felt the weight of a thin, but solid chastity cage pulling down on his member. It was closed up tightly, with only the tiniest eyelet in the front for Exile to urinate through, and already, he could tell that he'd been edged just a little bit. There was just enough of an ache in his sack to signify that, and as if he needed any further evidence, he could see just a slightly cloudy coloration as he relieved himself in the bathroom.

His arm was resting against the wall as he stood over the toilet, grunting and wishing that he'd been a bit more careful with his choices the evening before. His phone was sitting on the sink rather precariously close to the toilet, yet another poor decision that he was lucky enough to get away with, but it was also the first and most important clue in his search for his penile captor.

A small string of texts were waiting for him when he unlocked the phone, all from an unknown number, claiming to have the secret to his freedom. All he had to do was head to a local coffee shop, and wait for further instruction.

Somehow, he knew it wasn't going to be quite that easy.

**

There was a genuine embarrassment and discomfort in trying to conceal such a toy. Exile wasn't the type to show weakness so easily, and anyone who knew him personally knew that he was usually brimming with confidence. That fact alone made it that much sweeter for the one who had caged him to see him walking awkwardly into the coffee shop, clearly moving his legs in such a way that the cage wouldn't press against the front of his jeans.

Of course, one would have to be focused on his crotch to notice too much, but there was definitely a prominent bulge from the cage clenching around his manhood, and it was a bit too wide to be a mere imprint of his cock. Those lusty few who were just as perverted as Exile and his friends were might be able to figure out what he was up to, or rather, what had been done to him, but even if he was asked, he wasn't going to explain it to any random stranger, and if he could avoid it, he'd keep it from any of his closest friends, as well.

One of them just happened to be sitting in the cafe, sipping on a large cup of tea, but his presence was no mere coincidence. Brown-furred ears flattened in frustration on Exile's head as he narrowed his eyes, their blue depths turning slightly icy as they gazed upon someone who could truly appreciate their coloration.

"Albaz...what do you have to do with this?"

"What? I can't just come here for a drink, Exile?" the lion asked, giving the softer, more delicate blue fluff of his mane a quick and thoughtful stroke. "You're awfully suspicious, for some reason. What if my presence here was just a happy coincidence?"

"We both know that's a load of bullshit, so you'd better start explaining, lion!"

Albaz was acting like he was every bit as in control as he actually was, to the point that even though he found Exile's frustration to be hilarious, he didn't laugh about it. He barely cocked a grin as Exile realized his outburst was the loudest sound in the cafe, and the hybrid was suddenly much more timid as a worrisome flush crossed his cheeks. He scooted quickly to the booth that Albaz was using and tried to hide within it, as if everyone would suddenly forget what had just happened.

"I think we both know that you're not in any sort of a position to be making demands," Albaz pointed out, effectively admitting his involvement in the caging, and yet, he didn't show a scrap of remorse over being exposed. "How about you just get comfortable in that seat and hear me out, hm?"

Huffing quietly and trying to contain his visible frustrations, Exile sat down, wrapping his paws around the glass of water that was waiting there for him. "Start talking, Albaz. I want this damned thing off of me, now."

"And that's not going to happen, even if you were to have asked nicely, so...let's move on from there," Albaz shot back. "That cage isn't coming off so soon, and certainly not so easily. I'd be more than happy to give the key back to you, but not without you completing a couple tasks first."

"What...you want me to go and get groceries for you while I'm in chastity or something? Complete an obstacle course? What kind of tasks?"

Exile was pressing so hard that Albaz was tempted to sit in silence for a while and wait for the caged hybrid to calm down, but as meticulous as he was, he wanted Exile to understand just what kind of a situation he was in. "That much isn't really up to me, Exile. I've merely picked out the people who will be figuring that out for you. I could wager a guess at some of the things they'll come up with for you, though."

Already, the huscoon was narrowing his eyes at Albaz, who was sipping his tea with all of the contentment of a Hollywood villain. "And who, exactly, did you cut in on this deal?"

"A few people you know. I'm not inclined to spoil all of them for you just yet, but I'll drop a few names when the time is right. Until then, you'll just have to let your own imagination fill in the gaps."

"Did you give them any instructions?"

"Only that they're to do whatever they feel is right and necessary with you," Albaz suggested, though Exile could feel that it wasn't the entire truth. "Oh, and of course, you're not allowed out of that cage, although a little edging might be in order..."

Ears that were already flattened started to fold back as Exile slumped back in his seat at the booth. "Albaz, you can't...you can't just do this to someone without their permission!"

"You were entirely willing last night."

"I was drunk, Albaz."

"You willfully took your pants off in a room full of people and basically ordered us to do something to you. I'm just the one who stepped up and followed your instructions, so...now it's your turn to follow mine. I've got a key waiting for you, if you just show a little obedience for a change."

Exile was filled with a sense of disgust. He wrinkled his muzzle and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep, cold breath of frustration. The scent of Albaz's calming tea was nearly mocking him, as if the thought of something being so simple and content in a moment was beyond his ability to reconcile.

"I...I'm not agreeing to this, Albaz. I can't."

"Then I'm afraid I can't give the key to you."

"Albaz, stop being a dick!"

Naturally, the outburst turned eyes on Exile all over again, who knew that none of them could see the reason for his bashfulness, and yet, something within him disagreed. It was as if he'd come to the cafe entirely nude, save for the cage that squeezed around his manhood.

It wasn't the greatest feeling in the world, and it was one that Albaz could see right through. His part of the plan was complete, save for one thing. "Here. Take this list, and when you're ready, call each person on it. If you're lucky enough to make it all the way to the bottom...you'll get the key back."

Exile took the piece of paper that was offered, but he was quick to crumple it up in his paws and shudder with a combination of disgust and anguish. The darkest corners of his mind could appreciate the simply lewd nature of the idea, but his body suffered for it, as each throb forced the flesh of his cock to strain against the confines of the cage.

"I'm not doing this."

He stuffed the paper into his pocket and shot up out of the booth, rushing his way out of the cafe as quickly as possible. All eyes were on him as he made his way out the door and headed for his car, wishing that he could go back to bed, sleep off his hangover and forget that any of this had happened.

In the cafe, Albaz simply took another sip of his tea and grinned, knowing that his plan was already well in motion.

**

For most men in the age of internet porn, going just a couple days without some kind of a sexual release was a difficult task. After a week, some men would start to feel more than mere frustration, as discomfort from the back-up of excess semen came into play.

Exile was two weeks in, and relief was nowhere in sight. Albaz wasn't answering his text messages or returning his phone calls, and he was simply too nervous to try and pry the cage off of his member with other means. Tools were too dangerous to place so close to his genitals, and it was embarrassing to ask anyone he knew for help. There were a few candidates in mind, and some people that he knew wouldn't judge him, but he didn't relish the thought of explaining what had happened, and why.

At that point, he still couldn't quite remember the why, after all.

"I swear, this cage is designed so perfectly...there isn't a single gap I can use to pry anything open on it!" he groaned to himself, as he delicately tried to sneak a flat-head screwdriver into a seam along the metal cage, only to find that there really wasn't such a gap available. As dangerous as using tools was, Exile was getting to that point of desperation, and he was entirely out of patience. It felt as though insanity were actually starting to set in, and it didn't help that every time he woke in the morning, his sack was that much fuller with backed up seed. He was finding it a little difficult to walk, thanks to the growing bulge, and the terrible ache that accompanied his manhood any time he accidentally brushed against it.

He knew that relief wasn't going to come easily, and perhaps, it wouldn't come at all, but he was wise enough to know when he'd been bested. He had to reach out to the people on the list as he'd been instructed, and the first name was one that he knew all too well.

He wasn't the least bit surprised to see it, and the voice on the other end of the phone answered with a quiet, snarky, "Took you long enough to come around to the idea."

**

The lengths that Exile would have to go in order to obtain his freedom were great indeed, and they started with a drive that he'd become fairly familiar with over the course of recent years.

It was a long drive just to encounter what he knew was further pain and torture, but he was hoping that it would all be worth it, when all was said and done. He was dedicating his whole weekend to trying to get out of chastity, and it all started in the great plains, just a state over from his home.

He slammed his car door in frustration, just moments after he parked it in the driveway of an old friend. Somehow, he had a feeling that this particular friend was going to be involved with the plot from the beginning, and he was sure that they were present at the party when he was first put into the cage; in all likelihood, he even encouraged the action.

"Were you driving backwards or something? Took you forever to get here," came a voice that many would have taken as a friendly, teasing call. Instead, Exile flattened his ears as Nbowa emerged from his house and leaned against the railing of his front stoop. "It's almost like you didn't want to come see me!"

"They say that anticipation makes the drive feel a little longer," Exile replied in a sarcastic explanation. "I wouldn't really know anything about that, though."

"Not even a little bit excited to see your old friend, hm?" Nbowa asked, crossing his arms over his bare chest and letting out a quiet huff of frustration. "That's really too bad. Here, I would have thought you already learned something, but I guess Albaz was right...you don't deserve any mercy."

Exile couldn't keep from gritting his teeth and fangs together as he marched right over from his car. Nbowa opened his arms for a hug, but Exile grabbed him right upon the shoulders and dug his claws in, not even trying to hide the grunt of frustration that flared his nostrils. "I deserve a whole hell of a lot of mercy after the nearly three weeks I've been wearing this thing, and I've about had it with you guys messing with me! If you've got the key, you'd better hand it over, you mangy, arrogant lion!"

Being held up by someone as strong as Exile would shake the nerves of some of the toughest men, but Nbowa didn't look even remotely phased. He was still grinning as he simply slipped a paw forward and bopped Exile gently on the bridge of his muzzle. "Down, boy. I'm not allowed to tell you if I have the key or not, until you perform every task that I ask of you. You never know...you might be getting unlocked today, if you play your cards right!"

The thought never so much as crossed Exile's mind, but even when it finally did, he didn't cling to it. He actually did his best to ignore it, knowing that Nbowa was just trying to string him along to make him a bit more obedient. It wasn't going to work on him so easily, and he didn't want to give the lion an easy time, no matter how close of friends they were. "Don't play that kind of bullshit game with me, Nbowa! If you've got the key, just hand the damn thing over! Albaz never has to know about it!"

"You really think I wouldn't tell him about your bribery, especially after the way you've greeted me? That's cute," Nbowa teased, "But you're horribly mistaken. All you did was dig yourself a deeper grave, and I can't stop you from digging it...all I can do is take away your shovel."

Exile wasn't the type to be driven to real violence. He was furious with Albaz, and of course, he was getting frustrated with Nbowa, but he couldn't be reasoned with, and beating the lion up wouldn't get him anywhere, whether or not Nbowa actually had the key.

He knew he was out of options, and his body reflected it as he slowly released Nbowa's shoulders and slumped his own. His arms came to settle politely and obediently at his sides, as he shrunk down into himself a bit. He'd accepted that he couldn't force his way out of the situation, and still, everything was going according to Albaz' plan.

With that lesson of submission cemented in, Nbowa was free to do whatever he pleased with the mentally defeated hybrid, and some miles away, Albaz only wished that he could see what kind of punishments Nbowa had in mind.

"Whether it's the key, or just another step...I will help you, Exile, but you're going to have to do exactly what I say, and it just so happens that it's right about bath time for lions."

"So you need me to help you scrub down?" Exile asked, feeling a momentary glimmer of hope inside. He was actually into the idea of grabbing a shower with the sensual lion, and if all he had to do was help him reach some deeper areas, he'd be done with his task in no time.

"Well, sort of," Nbowa started to explain, as he turned and headed back into the house. Exile followed right behind him, the thick, ringed curl of his tail picking up in a subtle wag as the pair made their way through the narrow kitchen and into the spacious living room, rather than going to the bathroom. "You see...cats bathe with their tongues, Exile, and I'm pretty flexible, but I need someone to get into those places that I want extra clean...you dig?"

It didn't take Exile long to realize what Nbowa was getting at, and already, he was sloshing his tongue around in his mouth, trying to get the mentally placed taste of feline out of his mouth. He wrinkled his muzzle for a moment at the thought, but before he could try to make a protest, Nbowa was already stripping away the trademark red shorts from his hips, and Exile felt a similar color of warmth spreading across his cheeks at the sight of the lion stripping himself naked so readily and rapidly.

"Y-you can't be serious," Exile finally stammered out, gulping nervously at the thought of being used in such a depraved way. "I mean...that...that wouldn't even get you clean, anyway!"

"I know. You huscoons have a terrible diet. Your tongue is probably pretty gross, but...it'll have to do. I'm in a rush," Nbowa suggested, and Exile couldn't have possibly known if it was a lie or not. The hybrid could only whimper in frustration as Nbowa kicked his shorts away and pointed at the ground. "On your knees, Exile. Now. Don't act so innocent...you know exactly what I want out of you, and if you don't follow my orders to a 't,' you're never getting out of that cage."

The earlier frustration was building up a wealth of strength in Exile, but it would all go to waste as the huscoon slowly sunk down to his knees, resting them on the rug in the living room. Nbowa could have ordered him to strip, but in a way, there was something erotic about the plan that the lion had, and at the end of the day, Exile was getting a break out of the deal, slight as it might have been.

"I think you know where most lions need the most attention," Nbowa suggested. He brushed one of the blonde bangs away from his eyes and narrowed them down on Exile, making sure that he got the point before he slowly turned and lifted his long, thin tail fully up to his back. His rump sat tight underneath, and Exile showed off a little training that Nbowa had imparted on him during other encounters.

The lion nearly melted, his footpaws trembling with delight as he felt Exile's paws upon his rear, and finally, the long, canine tongue of the hybrid slurping against his tailhole, despite the powerful, masculine musk that radiated from it. Exile didn't have the pleasure of seeing the results of his dirty work, as Nbowa stayed fully turned, never letting the submissive huscoon see just how full and thick his feline cock was becoming, but he was happy to buck his rump back into Exile's muzzle, forcing him to dig that much deeper with the flat of his tongue.

If he doesn't give me the key after this, Exile let out a mental groan, finding his mouth was a bit too busy to form proper words. His thought sat incomplete as he felt the rope-like tail of the lion coiling around the back of his neck, making sure that Exile wouldn't give in to any temptations of stopping or pulling away. He was forced into service, and he made sure to reach in a little further, swirling the tip of his tongue around the delicate, tight pucker of Nbowa's ass, until he could feel that narrow tip starting to dip inside just a little bit.

"Hnnnnf... atta boy, Exile...g-get in there nice and deep!" Nbowa instructed, acting perhaps a bit more gentle than he might have normally, but it wasn't out of remorse for Exile. It was merely his own enjoyment making him a little soft, and Exile's discomfort was only growing as his rimmed the lion; tasting the feline in the most intimate way that he could was terribly arousing, and his cock was already straining at the edges of the cage as he reached as far as his tongue could.

Nbowa could have taken just a little mercy on Exile and called it a day there, but he wouldn't be content with getting all worked up, just to have to achieve his own release. He was grinning wickedly when he finally turned around and smacked Exile harshly across the muzzle with his thick, throbbing erection, and precum drizzled into the fur upon the huscoon's face as it sat there against him. He winced at the quick sting of the rather humiliating smack, but before Nbowa could so much as give the order, he knew what he had to do.

"Bath time is over," Nbowa said, his voice far more forceful than it had been before as he grabbed Exile by the tuft of his headfur and yanked his face forward. He barely had a chance to get his maw open in time to engulf the very tip of the lion's member, but he wouldn't be able to stop there. Powerful hips rammed forward until Nbowa's cock was swabbing the back of Exile's throat and spilling excess, clear fluids upon it, and immediately, the hybrid gagged around his mouthful and his eyes went wide.

The painful combination of his straining length against the cage and the growing wealth of backed up cum was making it hard for Exile to focus on his technique, but Nbowa didn't appear to mind it one bit. He was throwing his head back and shaking his mane with delight as he gripped Exile tighter by the headfur kept him pulled forward. The poor, kneeling hybrid was nearly choking around his mouthful as Nbowa began to thrust against his muzzle, and errant saliva splashed down the lion's thighs and the hybrid's neck as the act turned from impassioned to nearly violent.

"Better swallow the w-whole load..." Nbowa grunted, gritting his fangs together as he tried to draw the moment out. He was on a power trip, and the mental thrill of gagging Exile upon his cock was just as enjoyable as the physical pleasure of the throat muscles of the dominated hybrid swallowing around his pulsing length. The slick streams of precum were growing thicker and fuller as they easily poured down into Exile's gullet, and the hybrid was whining and whimpering in a mixture of discomfort and twisted pleasure as his own manhood tried entirely in vain to grow through the confines of the cage. His body shuddered with the same terrible, growing pain as Nbowa dug his claws into Exile's head and held on tight, pounding his cock forth one more time, and with such force that the huscoon worried his throat might be bruised.

The only thing that could soothe it was soon to follow, as a full, thick and warm load of cum spilled forth. It came out in a forceful burst, nearly bucking Exile right off of the rod, but his throat was swallowing in reaction anyway, saving him just a little mess.

He couldn't possibly contain all of it, however, as rivers of creamy, white seed ran from the corners of his muzzle and began to drip down over his nice, clean shirt.

"G-good little bitch...take that cum...t-take all of that fucking cum!" Nbowa growled out ferociously, his roar aided by the divine pleasure that ran through his body as the last drops of his cum began to spill into Exile's tummy. The hybrid couldn't have been more defeated, and thanks to his inability to prepare, his neck and his chest were soaked through with the excess mess.

To be technical, he'd failed in the task that he was asked, but even so, Nbowa let out a quick, easy sigh of delight and slowly pulled his cock free, watching excess saliva and seed dangle in thin, shimmering strands between the tip of his length and Exile's lips. "...All right...you've done enough. Stay right where you are, and gargle that last little bit."

Exile could have asked where Nbowa was going, but he didn't dare. He might be getting his freedom, and at the risk of screwing that up, he stayed on his sore, tired knees and did as he was told, gargling up small bubbles of semen on his throat as Nbowa walked into the other room with his smart phone.

"Hey...he's ready for you, if you're ready for him," Nbowa said, never revealing who was on the other end of the line. "Make sure to give his cute little cock plenty of attention...but remember, he's gotta suffer every step of the way."