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"Ready for your present, pup?"

Prismo whined, feeling another dribble of pre leak from the awfully tight chastity cage, adding to his already drenched balls. The spurt made the rainbow-coloured wolf instinctively reach for his locked up junk. With all his limbs tied spread eagle, all he could do was nod as he twisted and turned, frustratingly shaking the big white pre-covered balls that almost all but buried a tiny black plastic nub that his cock twitched in.

The chastity cage itself was more akin to a small ergonomically designed cap that kept his sheath squeezed within and the base ring it was connected to held his balls taut. How long had his master him caged in that thing? Prismo sort of lost count. But as the days to his birthday approached closer, the cage became much tighter and much wetter. Being teased without any mercy by Bing didn't help. Even when he was just standing over and watching Prismo squirm. Nor that the stout binturong only wore his gloves and a necklace with the key to the cage hanging from it. That and the once white jockstrap that struggled to hold the bulge within made him the binturong's outfit. For a moment Prismo forgot about his predicament, staring into the contours of the yellowed ribbed cotton.

"Well, you look ready!" Bing grinned, stepping onto the bed and knocking the wolf out of his trance.

The smell of the jockstrap whiffed over as Bing came closer. A deep, masculine musk that was as complex as it was potent. It had wisps of well-used gym wear, but the main defining element outside the binturong's own musk was heavy, aged leather. Hints of spice and fruit gave it a formal yet exotic tinge. All of it was soaked and concentrated in the stained cotton. Something only created from long periods of use and physical exertion. Bing mustn't have washed the jockstrap since it was first worn. The wolf's sensitive nose twitched and wrinkled at the stench, but Prismo couldn't help himself and moan. It all made the Prismo's head spin. If his dick was free, he may have came right there and then.

But the cage proved unrelenting, as it always did. A forceful clamp that squeezed his once average sheath to be no longer than a thumb. A constant reminder of his master's grip. Prismo's red and blue eyes grew wet like his balls, tears of frustration leaking from two places as he turned his gaze to the key that hung around his master's neck.

"Eager, ain't ya?" Bing snickered. "But this..." He said, holding the key to the wolf's pleading eyes. "Is not your present."

Prismo gulped. No, that couldn't be it. He had been caged for so long that he forgot what even his cock looked like! He was a good boy! Surely this was a mistake? The wolf wanted to be on his knees, his hands together pleading for an uncaged orgasm. He wanted to whine and cry, use every word he knew, but the wolf held his mouth. His sore, slack jaw served as a useful reminder for speaking without permission. The wolf, however, would not relent easily.

He whined, making the most pitiful sounds he could ever do. He widened his eyes and tried to raise his crotch as high as he could to display how needy he was. How much of a needy bitch he was to beg for something any free man could achieve. Yet all his efforts only made him even hornier and flick around droplets of pre.

"Mmmm~ Sorry pup. I'm keeping you in the cage. Your little nub is too cute to be free."

The pup could see from the binturong's steely gaze he would not be unlocked. So if he was stuck in the cage, what would be his present then? Prismo crooked his head and gave master an inquisitive yet pained look. A wordless question to his master. Bing saw the questioning and laughed in response.

"Oh, you know what it is," Bing said, grabbing and rubbing his malodorous bulge.

Prismo gulped and felt another bit of pre spurt out of the twitching tip. His eyes crept back to the jockstrap, seeing the bulge within growing larger while his own member was strained in its cage. He had his muzzle stuffed there many times before, always enjoying the increasingly potent scent so to have only that as his present was, weird. Something else was going on. Given the depravities his master was capable of, a pang of terror went through the wolf.

But there would not be a response from the binturong. Whatever that might happen will happen, and Prismo was going to take it. All the wolf could hope for was he wouldn't be too broken by the end, physically or mentally. The binturong shuffled closer and, to Prismo's surprise, turned around, showing his firm ass and long muscular tail which snaked and coiled over the wolf's body in a securing embrace. The furry black mounds of muscle moved nearer, as did the binturong's own potent musk. Bing, unlike his jockstrap, did bathe regularly, yet his masculine scent would return. There wasn't just the binturong's natural everyday smell but an eye-watering acridness aroma of fresh sweat.

With how close those ass cheeks came to his face, Prismo could see that the binturong's coarse black fur was glistening and damp. It contrasted with the white rubber bands of the jockstrap, which framed his master's ass so perfectly. Furry darkness overtook the wolf's vision as Bing inched closer and closer until it finally stopped. Bing was now squatting over the bound wolf. Prismo's much more lithe body seemed tiny in between Bing's thick calves and wide thighs while his ass threatened to envelop the wolf's entire head. Prismo was twitching and with his dumb gaze, the wolf wouldn't mind at all being in Bing's ass.

Yet the binturong surprised Prismo once more by turning around again, filling up the wolf's vision with that nasty yellow fabric. Before the wolf could even think, Bing grabbed his muzzle and squatted down, shoving his sensitive canine nose into the fabric. Prismo's eyes rolled up, and he shuddered from the smell. Each deep inhale filled his nose with that glorious bouquet of manliness. Tears streamed down his eyes and balls as Prismo lost hold. His mind went blank and his body went on his own as Prismo nuzzled and buried his snout in the reeking cotton.

His balls churned and his deep red cock strained as much as it could in its sheath. Only his leaking tip escaped through the flesh constraints of his sheath and plastic bars of the cage, spilling ever more pre onto his balls and soaking the towel underneath. He moaned and groaned into the binturong's crotch. His body tensed. He was so close, so on the edge, but the cage was like a wall. If only he was free...

Prismo gasped when he felt Bing's leathery paws grab his caged cock. Bing's thick fingertips rubbing against the denied sheath that pressed against the bars felt so heavenly, so amazing. Prismo's moans turned into a pitiful whine as he felt the binturong's own musky cock rub against and leak on his muzzle through the damp fabric.

The fingers rubbed faster and faster, a thumb circling on his tip. Prismo cried out. It was being too stimulating. It was becoming painful, yet he couldn't help but smear his master's fingers with his own pre, serving as an impromptu lube. The now slicken digits glided over the bars of his cage, each touch sending waves of pleasure. Prismo held his eyes shut and clenched his feet and teeth. He held his breath as the fingers danced on his sensitive flesh. So close, just a bit more...

A loud muffled groan filled the room as cum spewed from the tip of Prismo's cock, shooting across the bed. Pulses of pleasure shuddered the wolf's body as he groaned and sighed in pleasure. All that tension, all that pent up horniness, evaporating away in a hot cloud of release. The orgasmed died down as the shots of cums turned into a dribble. All Prismo could do was whine with no breath left until the binturong finally lifted his bulge away, letting fresh air enter the wolf's lung.

"Enjoyed that pup?"

Prismo opened his tear-stained eyes and gazed at the binturong's smile, weakly nodding and smiling in response. He took a deep breath. His body ached and his still sensitive cock and balls felt sensitive from the near biting tightness of the cage. Maybe master would let him wash up after this. The wolf laid his head back and continued to breathe, enjoying the afterglow of the orgasm. All of what happened combined pushed the wolf over the edge and Prismo actually felt spent rather than needy, as he would often be after cumming while caged. What one hell of a birthday present.

"Oh, it's not over yet," Prismo heard the binturong smirk.

His eyes shot open and his ears flattened when he heard the telltale click and buzzing sound of a wand being turned on.

"You're not done until you cum for every year!"

Prismo gulped, and for the first time in the session, he spoke.

"Oh, fuck."