He’s on all fours, moaning into the mattress, completely at my mercy. My gloved hand is deep inside him, stretching him, owning him – every inch a reminder of who he belongs to. And the best part? His cock is locked up tight in that cruel little chastity cage. He can feel everything, but he can’t touch. He can’t stroke. He can’t even twitch without permission. I’m inside him, working him open, while his most desperate desire stays denied. He’s helpless, aching, and exactly where he’s supposed to be – used, controlled, and caged.