Caged Devotion

I got to Port Stephen on a Friday afternoon in June. The rental house sat right on the beach road, blue trim, white shutters, a porch facing the water. I'm Jenni, I'm twenty-eight, and I'd driven three hours to see a man I hadn't seen in two years.

Pat opened the door before I knocked. He'd filled out since undergrad. Twenty-nine now, arms like he actually used them for something besides carrying textbooks.

"Hey, Jenni," he said, and pulled me into a hug before I could say anything.

"Hey yourself," I said into his shoulder. "You look... wow!"

"You look good too." His hand brushed my hip as he let go. Just a brush, casual, but my skin remembered him all the way up my spine.

"Nice house," I said, mostly to stop staring.

"Rentals are cheap in the off season. Come in, I made the guest room survivable."

He poured wine on the porch. The surf was doing its thing, seagulls screaming at each other over something.

"So," he said. "Staff sergeant now. Six years in. You?"

"Finishing the master's in biology. Two more semesters."

"Smart girl. Always were." He swirled his glass. "Can I tell you something kind of weird before we get comfortable?"

"You're on leave for a month and you're already asking permission to be weird?"

"I'm asking because it's a favor. A big one." He set the glass down. "I've gotten into chastity. As in, me in a cage, and someone else holds the key."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. "Like... a cock cage? The steel thing?"

"Yeah. That's the thing." He watched my face carefully. "I want you to be my keyholder. For the weekend. Longer if you want."

"Pat. You haven't seen me in two years and you're asking me to lock up your dick."

"I'm asking because you're the only person I ever trusted enough to ask." He leaned forward. "And I remember how you looked at me when I told you to wait. You liked the waiting. You just never said so."

I took a long drink of wine. He wasn't wrong, and we both knew it.

"Show me at least," I said. "Before I say anything."

* * *

He brought out a small velvet box and set it on the coffee table. Opened it. Inside was a polished steel cage, small rings, a tiny padlock. It looked like jewelry for a machine.

"Can I touch it?" I asked.

"Please!"

I picked it up. It was heavier than it looked, cold and smooth. I turned it over in my fingers and thought about him wearing it. Walking around with it under his clothes while I kept the key in my pocket. My pulse picked up and I felt heat crawl up my neck.

"It's smaller than I imagined," I said.

"Rings come in sizes. I measured." He grinned. "Twice, to be sure."

"Of course you did. You were always precise." I set it back in the box. "So what does the keyholder actually do?"

"Whatever she wants. I can't touch myself, I can't get hard, I can't do anything without asking you. You decide when and if. That's the whole arrangement."

"And you like that? Giving it up completely?"

"That's the entire point," he said. "The not being in charge. The trust. Every day you have the key and I don't, and I think about you all day anyway."

God help me, that affected me. I finished my wine and asked him to refill it, because my hands needed something to do.

We ended up in the kitchen while he made dinner prep sounds, chopping something, and I leaned against the counter with my second glass.

"I have to say something embarrassing first," I told him.

"Go ahead."

"My body isn't what you remember. Grad school is mostly sitting. I've got soft bits I didn't have at twenty-one."

He put down the knife and crossed the kitchen and pulled me close, both hands on my waist, and I forgot what I was worried about for a second.

"Jenni. I want control, not perfection," he said. "I'm not asking you to be the girl from two years ago. I'm asking you to be the woman holding my key this weekend."

"You really don't care?"

"I really don't care. Ask me again in a week if you want, I'll say the same thing." He kissed my forehead, then waited, looking at me. "Now. I need a real answer, not a wine answer. Do you want to lock me up tonight?"

"Yes," I said. It came out fast and I felt my face go red. "Yes, I want to. Just... slowly. Show me everything."

"Slowly is my favorite speed," he said.

* * *

The bedroom had blue curtains and a big window over the dunes. He undressed while I sat on the edge of the bed, and I made myself watch instead of looking away like a coward. He was broader than before, a scar on his shoulder I didn't recognize, and he was already half hard just from being looked at.

"Do you want me to talk you through it, or do you want to figure it out?"

"Talk me through it. All of it."

"Okay. First the ring, behind everything, then the cage over, then the lock." He handed me the parts. His hands came over mine, warm, guiding. "Ring first. Like this."

I got the ring on him and he made a small sound through his teeth.

"Good?"

"Good. Cold, but good. Now the cage, ease me in, take your time."

I took my time. I'm not going to lie, fitting a steel cage onto an ex-boyfriend's cock while he breathed slow and talked me through it was not a Friday I had planned. My hands shook a little and he steadied them with his.

"You're doing great," he said. "Almost. Line up the posts. There."

The cage sat snug against him, already doing its job, holding him half hard and going nowhere. I picked up the little padlock.

"Last chance to back out," I said. "And what's your safeword?"

"Harbor. If I say it, or anything pinches or goes numb, you unlock me, no questions, no sulking. Otherwise, not a chance. Lock it."

The click was louder than it had any right to be. Small brass lock, tiny key, and it felt like the heaviest thing in the room. He exhaled, long and slow, and his shoulders dropped like he'd set down a bag he'd carried for years.