It's a day of rest
Iwake up in a cage. I yawn and roll onto my side, curling my fingers around a wrought iron bar. I sigh, closing my eyes. Waking up in a cage isn’t as troublesome as you’d think it would be, and that settles weirdly easily inside of me.
“There you are.”
I pry open my eyes and Ronan is sitting on the edge of a bed. I look around and realize we must be in his bedroom, and that I’m involved with a man who has a human sized cage in his bedroom. If my cock were capable of getting hard after last night, I’m sure it would be.
“I’m here,” I whisper.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, Ronan. Thank you.”
He smiles at me and kneels in front of the cage, pushing two fingers between the bars and tickling across my cheek. I close my eyes again, appreciating the touch.
“Is this too humiliating for your tastes?”
“No,” I promise against his fingers. “I feel…cherished.”
Ronan makes a reflective sound. “That’s good, because you are.”
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” I ask him, stretching out as far as the cage will allow. I roll onto my back and bend my knees. I have dozens of tiny bruises on my chest from the clothespins he tore off of me, and I trace my fingers over the tender spots.
“I think so,” he agrees. “If you want it to.”
“Yes, Ronan.”
He groans. “I love the way my name sounds on your lips. I love what it means when you say it.”
I roll my head to the side and give him a lazy, sated smile. My eyes still feel heavy, and I could probably sleep for days, but our future is here, in this moment.
“Ronan,” I repeat.
“Do you want to come out of there to have this conversation?”
I shake my head, surprised to find I don’t. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Some coffee then? Or breakfast?” he asks.
“Is it breakfast time?”
“It’s whatever time I say it is.”
“Yes please. Thank you, Ronan.”
He stands up and walks out of the room. I hear him bang around in the kitchen a bit, and then he’s back with a tray of food and two steaming mugs.
“Black?”
“Please.”
He leans down and flips a latch near my feet and the cage swings open. He sets the mug and a plate of eggs and bacon inside, then closes the door again. It takes work to rearrange myself so I can reach the food, and sure enough, my dick gets hard for it. I’m bent over on all fours, and I take a sip of coffee. It burns on the way down and I moan happily.
“Good?” He stretches his legs out on the floor beside the cage and crosses them at the ankles. He’s wearing black sweat pants and no shirt, and he balances the tray of food on his legs.
“Thank you,” I answer.
“Do you want this all the time, Kevin? Because I need to be honest with you. I don’t think I have it in me.”
