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It wasn't entirely fair to call me and Thrad strangers, although we practically were. Sure we'd been fucking for a few months now, but I still didn't know much about him. I knew he had some sort of tech job (at least, I think he did), and I think he was paid fairly well. We didn't really go out to dinner, but he always fed me and bought us the alcohol when we decided to drink. But I of course didn't know his family, or his friends, or what any of his hobbies really were. Our relationship wasn't anything like that, and neither of us even wanted that. What we had was a no-strings-attached sort of situation. But we enjoyed each others' company (what am I saying, we enjoyed the hell out of it), so we stuck around. Still, trusting him with my chastity key was a huge step for us. We had only a little bit gotten into bondage, and we were still establishing a solid bond of trust between us. But what can I say? I was especially horny, not just that day but through the whole week, and I wanted to step up our game a little bit. And I have to say, it was one of the best sexual decisions I'd made in a long time. It was right up there with downloading Howlr, which of course set my entire life on the path its taken. And I'm so grateful that it did.

This isn't to say that Thrad didn't know plenty about me. Maybe that's some of what helped him be so gentle with me. Yeah he was domineering, but he always made sure that I was having fun, too. That's more than you could say about a lot of people on the app. But sure, I liked it rough, and there was something big to say about some random dude who just wants to get off, and wants to use you to do it. I liked being used. More than that, I really got off on it. But Thrad was a really great change of pace from everyone else. So it's really no wonder I trusted him with this new aspect of our sexual play. Or, my sexual play, at least. But I was pretty sure he'd be into it. There wasn't a lot my bull seemed to get turned off by.

Over the past few months my roommate had long stopped asking questions about where I was going, or what I was up to, or what my interests were. He knew full well what I was getting into. And he wasn't exactly homophobic, but the rules in our (or I guess it was his) apartment were pretty clear. No boys in the apartment, keep any personal sexual play to myself. Label my food. It wasn't unlike what a college dorm might feel like, although I wouldn't exactly know. But he rented the room for fairly cheap and was a nice enough guy, even if we didn't ever really "hang out" or anything. This is all to say that it didn't really feel like a home to me. It was cheap enough to afford on my meager sandwich-shop-job, and it was a place to sleep when I didn't have anything else going on. Which, up until Howlr, was most of the time. But now I came and went pretty frequently, and that lifestyle had started to suit me really well.

It was honestly Thrad which helped to change so much of that. We didn't play nearly as frequently as I'd have liked, and I think he wanted to play more often as well. But in the time we did spent together his apartment started to feel more like home than home did, if you could even call my apartment a home. These were the thoughts running through my mind as I put on my chastity cage in the mirror. It was a simple thing, cheap and made of plastic and bought online in "discreet packaging". That was more for my roommate's benefit than anything. I was becoming much more brazen in my sexuality of late. I might have even enjoyed the humiliation which came from a package addressed just for me, in big bold letters. Chastity Cage. With subtext, For The Slut. And that was only a bit of a joke. I really was becoming a bit of a force of nature, which maybe meant that I was just coming more into myself.

The cage fit snugly. It was snug enough, in fact, that the first several times I used it I wondered if it was too small for me. But I had read tons and tons of reviews, not just for my knock-off cage, but for all types of cages. They were supposed to fit snug, and there were even general guides about how to tell if it was a good fit. It shouldn't cut off circulation to the balls (obviously), and the flaccid cock should touch up against the side of the cage fairly well. If the penis has even a little bit of room to grow, that's when it would start to tug up against your sack uncomfortably, and maybe even get a little dangerous to use for extended periods of time. And that was something I was always very careful about. Whether it was really big dildos, or a new chastity cage, or having casual sex with strangers from an app - I always made sure I was as safe as could be. If a dildo wasn't going in easily I never forced it. If the cage got uncomfortable for too long I'd take it off (no testicular torsion for me, fucking no way in hell). With casual sex we used condoms every single time. Except for Thrad, that was one of the first expansions of our play we went to. I couldn't feel like a proper slut if I wasn't a cum-slut as well, and I had grown to trust him. Oddly enough, even with how much he knew I slept around, he trusted me too. Either that, or he just really wanted to nut inside of me. And I was more than okay with that.

I went so far as to apply a little bit of baby oil to my sack around the cage. It slicked up my fur really nicely, which helped the cage not to pull my sack too much. It made it more comfortable for extended play sessions, and me and Thrad typically went all night, and sometimes into the morning. That was another sign of our relationship growing, when he allowed me to sleep in his bed with him. It always led to additional morning sex, or midnight sex, or whenever-sex. And we certainly took every opportunity we had. Still, I didn't like the aesthetic the silicon oil gave my junk. It wasn't super noticeable, sure, but I didn't like the slicked up fur look. But it was inevitable during play. Especially with the amount of lube it takes to comfortably take big things in the ass (such as large dildos, or my well hung bull). But getting gradually more and more sloppy during sex was absolutely part of the appeal. Looking the part of a well used deviant helped me feel that way, and I relished in it every time. But when I played on my own it often felt more like a bother than enjoyable. It was a coin toss, really. Either I'd get deep in the fantasy and feel well fucked and used. Other times I ended a session wondering why I went through all the trouble, and got a bit melancholy washing all that lube out of my fur.

Then I reminded myself that I wasn't playing with myself. In just an hour or two I'd be playing with Thrad. I locked my cage just in time for it to swell up within its confinement. Had I waited a moment longer it would have been ten minutes before I could try again. It was that sexual thought, or really any of them come to think of it, which really just did me in. I imagined the look of light surprise on his face when he saw (or more likely felt) that I'd shown up with my junk locked up. That surprise on his face never lasted very long. It always gave way to dominance and excitement, and even additional horniness. That part never ceased to amaze me. The guy was an absolute bull, in every sense of the word. He could fuck for hours. His sex drive easily matched my own, which was growing with every session, even every day.

He would definitely be into the idea of me locked up for the evening. My orgasms at his control. Him, the powerful dom, taking care (by that I mean using and abusing) his submissive whore. And I knew how I got. When I was sexually frustrated I'd get going to the ends of the earth to get off. I knew I'd get awfully needy being locked up around my bull. Especially knowing that, for the very first time, it would be somebody else who was holding the key.

"I'm home." My roommate called. I knew that was my cue to hurry up with my business. No more admiring myself in the mirror, which I'm not even ashamed to admit to doing. I was coming into myself, and I took great pride in that. I probably fit the definition of twink, but I didn't identify with myself like that. I was just, becoming more like myself. Not gay (although I certainly, absolutely was), and I didn't even consider myself as a slut. I mean, I was, and still am. But more than that, I'm just Silver, who happens to be a slut. And I know, a silver/grey tabby named Silver. My parents were not an original folk.

"Welcome home," I called through the bathroom door, which I hastily shut, and locked. It made me cringe. I hadn't exactly been caught doing anything naughty but I may as well have been. By now he knew my behavior and my tendencies, and he knew my Thursday ritual well. I was definitely getting ready for a sexy night. Again, he didn't verbally disapprove of that. But he didn't care for it either.

"Uh, be done soon." I followed up. This didn't elicit a response, not that I was expecting one. But I put on the engines for sure, which was probably for the better. The sooner I was done prepping the sooner I could be on my way to a really, really promising night. Even if Thrad wouldn't be quite ready to receive me I could still get prepared in other ways. Namely I could tease myself in my room, or maybe run an errand with a small buttplug in. All while wearing my cage. Anything to help me get amped up for the night. But first I had to make sure I was clean.

I had it down to a fine science by now, up to and including a diet I put myself on so that I was typically ready to go at any point. But the assurance always helped me get into the headspace I craved, and after a round or two of douching my suspicions were confirmed. Perfectly clean. Ready to go.

I didn't make eye contact as I took my douche bulb and crossed to my room. And I certainly didn't feel like lingering at home longer than I needed to. It's maybe a little strange that I didn't feel any more comfortable here than I did back at my parent's house. But at least I was living more or less on my own. Even if I did have to hide the majority of my sexuality from my roommate, I could still get away with more than I ever used to be able to. Including hiding my shame with a towel wrapped around my waist. I obviously hadn't been showering, and I'd only be naked for one reason, and he knew full well what that reason was.

But then, that helped add to my humiliation, and submissiveness, all the more.

I got dressed pretty quickly, made easy because most of my outfits were the same. A tight shirt, one which was probably a little too small for me, and a tight pair of jeans. I used to abide by tail-through holes in the rear, the sort you have to thread your tail through. Obviously I wore ones which were designed for cats, often from the girl section. Sure they didn't have much room for my junk but that added to the allure. My cock stirred against its cage as I wriggled them on. Unless I took one of a few highly tactful stances, it was pretty clear to see a bulge in my front. My junk I could usually arrange somewhat inconspicuously, at least. But I had a plastic cage on my sheath, cock, and balls. There wasn't a lot to do in the way of hiding that. And to be honest, on a day of sexual promise like today, I'd have it no other way.

As for the jeans, lately I'd taken to snap-overs. They were more convenient, and I didn't have to smooth my tail back over after I threaded it through. But most importantly they were easier to take off. And ease of access had become a pretty big deal to me of late. And before securing that snap I did put in my small buttplug. It was metallic and had a little jewel on the end. I had bigger models, but those were more for sexual play sessions, and way less realistic for using for extended periods of time, or for being out in public for much more than a run to the convenience store for a secretly sexual candy bar or drink.

Plus, I enjoyed showing up to Thrad's with a buttplug in. I didn't do it every time, but it was one of the earlier times I got his thick eyebrows to raise in their brief surprise. I liked to surprise him sexually, and he could tell the cadence of the night by how prepared I came. Namely, if I had a buttplug in already, I was automatically amped and ready to go. But without it he knew to take his time to work me up into a sexy mood. This all meant that, hopefully, he'd take a chastity cage as an even more intense sign. I wasn't just horny and needing a fuck. I fucking needed one.

That said, I nearly reached for my collar but decided against it. I had been horny all day, even all week, but I wasn't in a bondage mood. Collar days with Thrad absolutely signaled a bondage day. But this night was a time for something entirely new, so definitely no collar. I did have the idea of wearing my key as a necklace of some sort, but I didn't really have anything which would work for that. Depending on how the night went I'd have to look into that.

So when I was ready I gathered my things into my satchel (not a purse, mind you, it was a satchel), and made sure I had my pocket size of lube. I also packed condoms as a force of habit. Thrad and I had stopped using them, but you never knew, and it never hurt to be prepared. Thrad also had a vast repository of lube, but again, it never hurt to be prepared. And as an afterthought I brought along my spare key as well. One was attached to my normal keys, so I was basically guaranteed to never lose it. That, and it was a reminder every time I saw it that I was becoming more and more deviant. No matter what mood I was in, or where I was, it was always a pleasant little treat. But it was both out of convenience and safety that I brought the second key. Thrad could have the spare, but maybe only for this session, since it was a good idea to have a backup key at home. That would mean that during the night I'd have my own key as well, in case I had to get out for some reason and Thrad wasn't available. I didn't foresee that to be an issue, though. And I certainly didn't plan on unlocking myself. There's no fun in that. In fact, I honestly hoped that he'd deny me an orgasm during the bulk of the evening. Depending, of course, on how desperate I got. And I wouldn't dream of taking that experience away from myself.

Again my cock stirred. At this point it was straining, uselessly. It made me far more horny than uncomfortable, but I knew it was time to get going. Staying here would no doubt frustrate me too much, too soon. Then there'd be no sexual space for Thrad to elevate me to. And that was, after all, the entire point of tonight. Even if he didn't know it yet.

I waved non-noncommittally to my roommate on my way out, keenly aware of both my cage and my buttplug. Even my tail was giving a horny little sway, although I tried to calm it. But for anyone familiar with felines (especially my fellow felines), even a small jerk in that particular way was a dead giveaway. And for me my tail was always damned hard to control. And believe me, I was trying.

I considered my options while heading to the bus stop, keenly aware of my accessories on the way. I'd get there early, he wouldn't be off work yet, but I didn't feel like going to the store or anything. Then my buttplug gave me a wonderful idea, and I decided just to walk. He lived maybe a few miles away, and I could always catch the bus if I got tired. But the idea of that plug in my rear, making its presence known with every step, was too enticing to ignore. So much for taking it easy and letting Thrad work me up. I'd be begging for his cock and his dominance the second I walked through the door.

It gave me ample time to reflect on my experiences this past year or so. Not just with Thrad, who was my most lucrative source of sexual fulfillment, but with all of it. Howlr had been amazing for my growth, both sexual and in life as a whole. I had met a few other slightly built guys through the app. Typically they identified as "versatile", but that usually turned out to be a bald faced lie. Still they gave me an idea of the aesthetics I'd like. I even became friends with a few of them, although the only thing we really bonded over were cocks and being ruthlessly fucked in the ass. And as I expressed myself more in my dress my relationships at work changed as well. Not at all in a bad way, mind. I worked a dead-end job at a sandwich shop, where nobody exactly cared about anything and mostly the coworkers were all my peers. Late teens to early twenties, everyone was still exploring themselves and just trying to get by, and they were all chill and super understanding. I was still Silver, just like I always was. I was just becoming more gay. Maybe I was on the path to becoming extremely gay, even. And I was still part of the crew, like nothing had changed at all. It was really that level of acceptance, or even validation, which helped me be comfortable in myself. Which of course paved the way to being comfortable with my sexual partners. Especially including Thrad.

That got me thinking about Thrad, and my history with him. Even our relationship, which felt like too personal a word to use. But he was understanding, and accepting, and always moved exactly at my level. He never pushed for more, but he read my signals perfectly, and followed them up with verbal confirmation as well. He wasn't just a dom but a bit of a gentleman as well. Even though he looked more the part of a muscle-head than a "man of culture", whatever that even means. It wasn't just his biology, although a bull is of course prone to being naturally built. By that I mean extremely built. But he went to the gym, and I didn't even know how old he was, but he certainly took care of himself. He probably looked younger than he really was. For that matter, I'm pretty sure I did as well. I was twenty when we started hooking up (nearly twenty-one, thank you very much), but I looked more like sixteen. It was my slight build, and my tight clothes, and my junk hadn't ever developed to a particularly large size. I used to be insecure about that, as there probably wasn't much chance of it getting much bigger at this point. But then I got really into it. It helped me feel additionally submissive. I even got off on the occasional comment about how "cute" it was, and how I was always meant to be taken like the slut I was. It wasn't just Thrad, either. I got that sort of comment a lot. And I had started to wear it with a sort of pride.

I was at Thrad's place before I knew it, which surprised me. I'd been lost in thought enough that I even forgot about the cage I was wearing, or the buttplug which usually was impossible to forget or ignore. But it certainly made its presence known now, and I got butterflies in my stomach, just like I always did. I purposefully squirmed a little, just to feel the plug grind up inside of me. With the right motions it rubbed right against my prostate. I sometimes got the feeling I could cum just from the plug alone. And believe me, I've tried.

I had perfect timing, because just as I was walking up the drive Thrad's truck pulled in. It noticeable raised as the massive hunk stepped out, and his expression just about melted my horny little heart. He looked forward to seeing me, and his surprise quickly gave way to excitement. Then, as usual, excitement gave way to sexual superiority. He was dominant, through and through. It certainly made us one hell of a match.

"You're early," he said. Then he pulled me in and kissed me, commanding as always. His tongue slipped in as though he owned not just me, but my mouth as well. "Yeah, I got ready early and didn't really feel like staying at home. I hope that's okay." "Your roommate?"

That served as another reminder of our relationship. I didn't know too much about him, but Thrad seemed to know a lot about me. Not that there was a lot to know. I used to live with my parents, but now I lived here. I didn't go to college or anything, and I worked in a sandwich shop. And I was horny, all of the time. That was it. And Thrad seemed to get that. He cared that I was on my own most of the time. I got the impression that he felt I deserved better than I had, and that showed from the way he treated me. It was odd, but sometimes he felt more like family than a hook-up. But I tried not to dwell on that. Actually I had to push that thought away pretty often. I didn't want to get especially attached to a guy I met on Howlr. But Thrad always treated me right, and that was impossible to brush aside.

"Yeah." I said. He just grunted and led me inside. When he shut the door he right away pushed me against it and kissed me again. The kiss was deep and long lasting. It felt urgent. Like Thrad wanted me just as much as I wanted him. As usual, the kiss led quickly to groping, which I knew full well would happen pretty damn soon when I showed up. We often got right to the point, which meant my secret would be discovered right away.

"What's this?" He said. It wasn't inquisitive. He knew what it was. He rubbed his hand against the plastic cage more firmly, teasing my locked up junk through my jeans. "It's my, uh. Cage." To prove the point I reached into my bag and pulled out the spare key I had brought. I held it out and he took it without question. "Well, then. That's a pleasant surprise."

Then he kissed me again, with even more vigor than before. Then his groping got more commanding. And my heart started to race, and my dick started to go crazy in its confined state. It wouldn't take long at all before he found the buttplug as well. And from that point sex would be sheer moments away. I couldn't dream of letting Thrad control the entire cadence of the night, so I reached down to grope his bulge in turn, just as he'd been groping hard against mine.

"Nope." He said between kisses. He pinned my hand easily against the door. Then he pressed further into me. I could feel him growing as he ground against me. This began a brief, and useless, power play. I struggled against his restraint, trying to reach down to feel him myself. I'd been dying to see him all week. Shameless to say, I'd been dying to see his cock as well. But still he held me fast, still grinding and teasing. He knew what he was doing. Just his sheer presence got me wild. And being so close to him, and restrained, while still fully clothed, was too much to bear.

"P-" I started, then immediately lost the words as he bit hard on the nape of my neck. I was more speechless than had I been gagged. He knew all the right buttons to push. When I was horny he knew how to send me even further. This was illustrated when brought his free hand to massage at my chest. His thumb circled around my nipple and the rest of his grip held me tight. I had a small build and he had a large one, which made his hands comparatively massive to mine. He could hold my chest in a vise. All at once he was holding me, even binding me in place, while his thumb expertly played with me.

"What was that?" "P-" Then he sent another chill through me when he grabbed my crotch. He accounted for the cage this time and took it all into his massive grip. Because the cage attached to my nuts it made my entire package more available to him. They didn't have anywhere to hide or retreat. My cage locked them outside of my body, as surely as it locked my dick within. But his grip wasn't painful, although it could have been. With one more iota of strength it'd be pain shooting through my groin, and not inescapable pleasure. Threading me along that line had become Thrad's specialty. It seemed not even the introduction of a chastity cage could throw him off his game.

I had to take several breaths to regain myself but eventually I powered through.

"P- please." "Please what, little kitten?" "Please, t- tease me."

He was, of course, already teasing me. But that language meant a batch of things to us. Teasing was how he eased me into taking his massive cock. It was how I got riled up when we were together. But most importantly it was how we got our sex drives in sync. We usually started an evening by feeling each other up on the couch. "Teasing" was the time it took to discover the sexual cadence of the night. From there we could dance and grope and grind and climax time and time again. To make no mistake I was desperately horny on showing up here. It was abundantly clear that Thrad was horny as well. But it was a bit too much, too fast. Thrad picked up on that right away.

"Oh, sorry." He released his grip entirely, and let a little room between us. "Too much?" "A bit," I grimaced. I looked up at him, sheepish and apologetic. "Don't be sorry, that's okay. I shouldn't have got so pushy. It's nice to see you." He said. Then he emphasized the point with a complete break of character, and licked my face from the tip of my nose to my forehead. I squirmed bashfully, but not enough to signal that I wanted to get away. He read this well and licked me again, and a few more times until I started giggling and ultimately pushed him away.

"Better?" He asked. "Better." "Come on."

He took my hand and led me up the stairway. We'd had issues in the past making it past the entryway. Making out while pinned to the front door was not at all new for us. It's just that we usually got hot-and-heavy after we walked up the stairs, not before. But when we reached his living room I immediately felt more at home. This is where most of the action took place. I knew every aspect of this couch so very well. And the couch probably knew me far too intimately for its liking. And from there we fell into our comfortable routine. Thrad asked me if I'd like a drink, already knowing I'd say yes. He knew what I liked and how I liked it. He refrained from calling it bitch beer which was nice of him, although we both knew that's what it was. So he came back with something light and fruity for me, and for himself a whiskey, neat. Even his drinks were more manly than me.

We got to our position on the couch. He took the corner politely while I sprawled, leaning against him. Although he championed himself on communication (and he was teaching me to do the same) we didn't actually need to talk all that much. A lot of our time was comfortable silence, and this was no exception. To let him know I was okay I spread my legs and placed his hand on my crotch. Before letting go I rubbed at myself using his hand as a buffer, to show the speed I was comfortable at. He kept the pace perfectly when I let go. This let me cozy in against him, and soon I was meeting his rubs with light grinds from my hips. As I nestled in my reality came to me. I was here, in a comfortable stance with the man I was most comfortable with. And he was feeling me up, but there was a barrier in both of our ways. He couldn't rub me, he could only rub at my cage. It put uniform pressure along my crotch, instead of just my dick getting all the sensation. But with each small grind the shadow of that sensation was there. The motion of getting jacked off was there, but I only received a tiny bit of that relief. The rest of it was all frustration.

Soon it had me grinding against his hand more strongly. He matched that strength exactly, and had moved his hand as to tease at my ballsack as well. This of course got me more pent up, and my tail flicked around in clear signs of contentedness, and lust.

"Can I see it?"

In response I just brushed his hand away long enough for me to undo my jeans. I'd like to say that it felt good to free my junk from my tight pants, but it wasn't all that much more free. It was just on display now, in its utterly useless form. Then his touch turned electric. I hadn't realized how horny I was until I felt his fingers lightly brush on the fur around my cage. He traced lines in my ballsack and around the ring which secured the cage. He made a show of scratching along the plastic tube which held me, to showcase the sensations I could be feeling, if only I wasn't locked away.

I'm sure my eyes were big and trusting when I asked if he liked it. He said that he did, and that it suited me well. He said it proved that I was his submissive slut, and that my cock was useless anyway, so it might as well be locked away. It wasn't good for fucking anyway, so why bother with having it free? Little whores didn't need their cock to get off, they got off another way. While he was talking dirty he explored his way below my cage, past my taint, and to my tailhole. And to the buttplug which was still waiting for him in surprise.

"Case in point." He said, without missing a beat. "Little sluts like you need to be fucked to get off. Isn't that right?" He pressed against my plug with a finger and circled it around. He pulsed pressure on it while keeping it at the right angle. He knew it was pressing against my prostate. And he didn't need the precum from my chastity cage to tell him I was getting really horny from it all. I angled my hips to grant better access to my rear, and I met his pulses with thrusts against his hand. Infuriatingly, he pulled back ever so slightly when I tried to thrust his pressure deeper. He was teasing me, alright. I couldn't get pleasure from my locked up cock. And he wouldn't let me get pleasure from my plugged up rear, either.

"Is something wrong?" He asked. I moaned in response and kept trying to grind against him. But all I got was more of that shadow of ecstasy. I knew I had done this to myself. I had wanted this, and I still did. I just didn't know how overwhelming it would feel, to be so denied the thing I so desperately wanted.

"Will you please finger me?" I had gotten over how strange it sounded to so directly ask for something so sexual and personal. If I wanted something, or needed it, then it was my job to make it known. And right now, I needed him in me. I couldn't handle more of this tease. "But how? You're all plugged up." "Take out the plug. Please." "But you put it there for a reason, didn't you? It's because a little slut like-" "Take out my plug and finger me, Thrad. Please." I tried to emphasize the point by grinding against his hand again. Still he evaded me. "I'm still not sure-" "Jesus Fuck."

The exclamation caught both of us a little off guard. It wasn't in line with our usual dirty talk and roleplaying. It was an outburst of genuine frustration, because I genuinely needed his fingers in me, and he wouldn't give it to me. In smooth motions I undid the tail snap and slid my jeans down to my knees. I took the plug out unceremoniously, which stung just a bit because it had been in for a while and had dried up of lube. But I didn't care, because in my crazed state I'd have gone through much worse to get that stimulation I craved. I cast the plug aside and grabbed his hand, jerking it towards my rear. I anticipated that he'd put up a mock fight about it, so I jerked hard. I pushed down with my body as well, to make sure I made contact. And when his hand was right against my rear, with a few fingers nestled in my crack, I used my hands to guide two of his fingers in. All of this I did quickly, almost mechanically. I didn't give him a chance to respond, nor did I give him the opportunity to further deny me. I needed his fingers in me badly, and I was going to have them.

I didn't mind that it was a dry entry. It felt a little more rough than it might have been otherwise, but that was fine. It was a price well worth paying for the sake of having something, anything, to fill me up. Just his two digits spread me more open than the plug had, and they reached deeper in as well. Still I held his hand tight against me. I guided his fingers in and out, and I pushed against them with my whole body. It wasn't exactly finger fucking. If anything it was me fucking his fingers. And I swear fingers had never felt so good in my life.

Thrad caught his breath, unable to come up with any sort of quip or remark. For once I had made him speechless, and for once I didn't care. In that moment Thrad had left my mind entirely. I had left my own mind. I was entirely consumed by the sensations within me, with the pulsing and grinding. The fullness and emptiness from him were perfectly timed waves. I began to feel strong crests of pleasure, and each one carried a resonance of bliss. Again and again I rode him. The intensity picked up and I lost myself in the motions of my hips. I jerked and thrashed. I demanded to have him in me, and with each crest of pleasure that demand grew. Soon the waves coalesced, and I was awash in the deepest orgasm of my life. If it could be called such a thing, because it was unlike any orgasm I had ever felt.

I wasn't aware of my pathetic mewling. An onlooker might have seen a stroke or seizure, but really I was twitching madly on the source of the sensation which I desperately needed not to stop. I couldn't even feel the cum which was shooting out of my locked away, untouched manhood. I thought I had known climax before. I had used the word orgasm without knowing what it meant. What I felt was both of these things, and neither of them. Instead it was more than the two of them combined.

And then I passed out.

I don't know how long I was gone, but when I came to Thrad was still with me, still holding me. His fingers were still in my ass, which was tender beyond all belief. I tried adjusting my legs, but that re-positioned his fingers within me, which sent a shadow of ecstasy coursing through me. In my state even that shadow was too much to bear, so I stayed completely still and just looked at my bull.

Thrad looked at me with intent, and wonder. In his bold, brown eyes I could see my own eyes reflected. I looked every bit the part of a boy in sheer and utter bliss. I looked like a contented slut, lost in pleasure beyond words. And I was grateful. Maybe even a little bit in love.

Then Thrad's eyes lost their surprise. They gave way to excitement, which quickly gave way to lust. I had climaxed, alright. And I had had the strongest orgasm perhaps either of us had ever seen. But it was me in Thrad's arms, and it was Thrad's fingers still lodged in my rear. He gave his index finger an experimental twitch. It sent a shock through me, and when I came down he did it again. And again. And again.

Eventually he did have me begging for release, but not in the way either of us would have thought. I wasn't locked away in a physical restraint. A chastity cage was nothing compared to the new form of play we had found. Instead my cage was within me. I was helplessly locked in ecstasy and bliss. And Thrad was the one who held the key.