Kissing his forehead, I removed the collar and set it on the table before moving to his other restraints. He sighed when the cage came off, then winced and groaned when I pulled out the sound. Its loop was on the side of the top opening, and had been tucked in to keep it from coming out on its own.
“Did you pee while I was gone?” I asked, wanting to let him use the toilet while I cleaned the metal.
“Yes, Daddy, but I could go again.” Basil blushed to the tips of his ears.
“Let’s get that over with, then,” I had him grab the old paint can and let him empty it and his bladder without following. He didn’t close the door though, which made me happy to not have any barrier between us. Hot water and soap had the cage shining by the time he reemerged. “Help me make the bed,ragazzo.”
We snuggled up under the covers after the bed was made and Basil’s cage was back in place. He had nothing to keep him in my house, except a lack of clothes.
“Daddy Giorgio, what doesmio ragazzomean?” Basil asked quietly in the dark, his body tucked against mine. He yawned and smacked his lips.
“It means my little boy.”
Basil didn’t reply, his breaths evening out in seconds. I kissed his head and held him tighter. Even if he hadn’t heard me, I still wanted him to be mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
BASIL
The morning lightbrought the return of my conflicted feelings. Everything made so much more sense when George held me in his arms and took away all my worries. Now I was back to overthinking everything.
I’d had the best orgasms of my life with George, even though I’d planned on killing him. I couldn’t deny liking dick anymore either, despite a decade of lackluster tries with girls. Was I gay? Or just George-sexual? Whatever I was, he had me dick-matized.
George was gone, though. He still had me for another day and night, but I was alone, and I wasn’t chained to anything. I could raid his closet and be gone in under five minutes.
A heavy weight on my thigh reminded me of one problem.
Maybe I could stop by a hardware store and get bolt cutters. But I didn’t want to risk something sharp so close to my genitals. I also didn’t have my phone or wallet. No way to call a cab or rideshare, and a young man in an ill-fitted suit would look way out-of-place walking in his neighborhood.
Did I even want to leave? George had claimed me, or at least my body. And I liked his claim. I liked him, and that was a real mind-fuck.
How could I be sure my feelings were real, and not induced by my captivity and multiple life-shattering orgasms? Trauma bonding was a thing, and I had felt so alone the night before. He made me dependent, and that felt like shit. I was dependent on him, but he wasn’t on me.
As if codependency would be even better. Though my heart said it would. Because then he would like me back, need me as much as I needed him.
Voices filtered through the door to me, and they sounded like multiple people were downstairs. Was George having a work meeting? Or maybe Santo? A trill laugh reached my ears, and I realized there had to be a woman.
Had George ever said he was gay? He was probably bi and closeted. George could have a steady girlfriend for all I knew, and I was just a way for him to blow off steam. He may not be the head of an active mob family anymore, if George was to be believed, but he still had to keep up appearances.
Just when I started for the door to his closet, George popped his head in. Maybe he would let me put on clothes and join him?
“Basil, please try not to walk around too much, and no TV,” he frowned, and my hopes were dashed.
“Oh, okay.” I turned to face him, but kept my head down and folded my hands over the cock cage. “I’ll be quiet, Daddy.”
“Thanks,” he replied brusquely, no pet names for me today. “I have guests and don’t want to explain why someone is upstairs. Should only be a couple hours.”
He closed the door and dismissed any reply or question I might have without a second thought. As much as I wanted to pace and scream when he clicked the door shut, I did nothing but sit at the table and stare at my food. A pancake with strawberries and whipped cream was waiting for me, but I had no appetite.
George agreed to keep me for three days, but never mentioned what would come after. He was taking his pound of flesh for my failed assassination attempt, not getting attached. I was an idiot for catching feelings.
There was no way I could stomach another night of pleasure just to have it ripped away when George was done with me. He’d had his fun, and I was lost. I needed this cage off my dick and George out of my life.
Rifling through the drawers on either side of the bed, my body reacted to the sight of the butt plugs and sounding supplies. George had seriously fucked me up.
Flipping over a picture, I saw a teen boy and girl who both looked a lot like George. WasDaddya daddy? They looked to be around the same age, though the boy was taller, and both were in matching school uniforms. Twins, maybe. Their young, smiling faces made me uncomfortable in my nakedness, so I put it back face-down in the drawer.
Moving from the drawer with the sex toys, I found an old landline phone on the other side of the bed. A phone…
