|© Copyright 2006 - M - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: MF/mf; bond; caged; cons; X|
|Caged Fantasy - Animals by M MF/mf; bond; caged; cons; X|
Caged Fantasy #1 - Animals
On hands and knees in a locked cage I look down at my black-painted arms, my hands disappearing into black thumbless leather mitts locked onto my wrists. The heavily padded mitts have turned my hands into useless paws. A silvery ribbon of drool descends from the plastic dogbone strapped into my mouth and falls to the metal floor pan to join the saliva that is already pooling there. I look down as much as the leather hood allows and see the rest of my black-painted body receding into the depths of the steel mesh cage.
Around my neck is a bright red dog collar with two metal dog tags– a yellow bone-shaped tag stamped with the name “Big Dan” and a red heart-shaped tag with my owners name. I can see my ankles, locked in black leather cuffs and joined with eight inches of heavy steel chain just like my wrists are. My dick is erect in its coat of black paint but I am helpless to do anything with it..
What I can’t see, but can definitely feel, is the fat butt plug buried deep in my ass. Before it was inserted, the large end ring of a choke chain was slipped over the plug and the other end of the chain was locked to the back wall of the cage. Now in order for me to leave the cage, I will have to pull myself away from the oversized plug – a prospect I was not looking forward to.
I turn my head as best I can to look at the cage two feet to the right of mine. Locked inside it is a woman painted white with black and brown patches like a pinto horse. She is my wife. Her hands are locked into shiny black restraints that resemble horses’ hooves. Strapped around her head is a striking leather hood shaped to resemble a horses head with erect ears – a large rubber bit gag holds her jaws apart and saliva drips from them just like mine. From the nipple rings on her painted breasts hang two golden bells whose gentle tinkle joins with that of my metal dog tags in the quiet of the cellar. From her splotchy-painted butt sprouts a shiny black waterfall of horsehair– a horsetail buttplug held in place by a black leather harness that crisscrosses the white of her body.
She angles her head to see me: painted entirely black and sporting a dog’s-head-shaped hood with drool spilling from my gagged mouth. She grunts unintelligibly and I respond in kind. We hear footsteps coming down the stairs and our heads swing to look, for all the world like grateful pets awaiting their master’s attention. I swear she wriggles in anticipation, her tail shimmering, but my buttplug only reminds me of its intrusive presence.
Neither of us know what will come next in the game we are playing, or even if it’s a game anymore. Restrained and caged, our bodies painted like animals and faces locked away in leather masks, our clothes and ID boxed up and shipped to our house for delivery sometime next week, we are rapidly losing our human-ness and experiencing pure animal-ness.
When Master and Mistress came into sight, the sound I make is like a bark, her’s like a whinny. Silently Master and Mistress grab the handles on top of my wife’s cage, pick it up, and start carrying it towards the door leading to the garage. The cage is strong and my wife is light and though she shifts a bit in nervous anticipation, they have little trouble moving her. I watch the cage disappear through the door, tail twitching over white, brown, and black buttcheeks, the black-painted bottoms of her bare feet pressed against the steel mesh.
Maybe fifteen minutes pass before they come for me. This time they have to struggle with my cage a little more– I’m heavier than my wife. Still, they are strong and they manage to carry me out of the cellar and into the two-car garage. They hoist my cage into the back of a gray SUV but I can see that my wife’s cage has been placed into the back of a green station wagon in the next bay! I can see from her position that she is no longer on her hands and knees, but instead is lying down– I grunt and bark in confusion and fear.
The door to my cage opens and a hand clips a leash to my collar, running it through the side of the cage so that my head is pulled against the metal and held there. A plastic tube is shoved in the side of my mouth, behind the gag, and a sickly sweet liquid is squirted down my throat – I have no choice but to swallow. The leash is unclipped and the door shut and locked. I watch as Master and Mistress get into the front seat of the green car, start it up, and drive out of the garage with my wife. I try to yell but no sound comes out and my arms and legs feel rubbery – I collapse against the side of the cage.
A woman I’ve never seen before appears in my vision – black hair, pretty face – she smiles and while pulling a blanket over my cage, says, “Don’t worry, Big Dan, you’re going to a good home.”
I fall asleep in the darkness.
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