Luke finally stepped into his small apartment, his knees weak and his chest heaving. The keys clattered onto the counter, the sound echoing in the quiet room as he leaned heavily against the edge, trying to collect himself. But it was futile. His entire body was thrumming, alive with sensations he’d never felt before, his mind consumed by Grace and Max—their words, their touch, their overwhelming presence.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, his fingers brushing over the waistband of his jeans. The cool steel of the chastity cage beneath sent a shock through him, a sharp reminder of what they’d done. He groaned softly, biting his lip as the pressure grew unbearable. The cage was so tight, cradling him in a grip that was both maddening and intoxicating. Every tiny movement made him more aware of its unyielding hold, its inescapable weight.

Stumbling to his bedroom, Luke collapsed onto the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. The room felt stifling, the air heavy with his own arousal. He couldn’t stop himself—his hands drifted down to his jeans, unbuttoning them with shaking fingers. The waistband gave way, revealing the smooth, gleaming steel beneath. His breath hitched as he ran his fingertips over it, the cold metal against his warm skin sending a shiver down his spine.

It was so tight. So unforgiving. He could feel every contour of himself pressed against the unyielding cage, the steel moulding to him like a second skin. His hips shifted involuntarily, seeking relief that he knew wasn’t coming. Instead, the movement only intensified the sensation, the cage pressing firmly against him, amplifying the ache that had been building since the moment Grace and Max left.

“Oh, God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as his fingers explored the edges of the device, tracing the smooth curves of the steel. It was impossible to ignore, impossible to forget. The thought of Grace holding the key—of her slipping it into her bag with that wicked smile—made his stomach twist and his whole body flush with heat.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. About the way her fingers lingered on his wrist, the teasing way she’d leaned into Max as if they were sharing a private joke. And Max—the deep, commanding timbre of his voice still echoed in Luke’s ears, wrapping around him like a velvet rope.

His free hand gripped the pillow beside him, clutching it tightly as he let out a desperate, muffled groan. The cage was relentless, refusing to let him forget even for a second. Every touch, every shift of his hips only heightened the unbearable tension building inside him. His mind raced with images of them—Grace’s teasing smirk, Max’s steady, knowing gaze, the way they seemed so perfectly in sync, as though they’d been waiting just for him.

The memory of Grace’s words burned into him like a brand. “Be good, Luke,” she’d said, her voice lilting and full of promise. He could almost see the sly curl of her lips as she turned back to look at him, could feel the weight of her gaze pinning him in place.

He ran his hands over the cage again, his fingers trembling as they traced its smooth, unyielding surface. The pressure was maddening, the ache almost too much to bear. And yet, he didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want to escape. The thought of surrendering to them—of giving himself completely—sent a rush of heat through his body that left him trembling.

For the first time, he felt truly powerless, and he couldn’t deny how much it thrilled him. He let out another soft groan, burying his face in the pillow as his thoughts spiraled deeper. Grace and Max had awakened something inside him, something he couldn’t name but craved desperately. And now, as he lay there with the cage pressing tightly against him, all he could do was wait—aching, needy, and utterly at their mercy.

Luke sat on the edge of his couch, his head resting in his hands as he tried—and failed—to focus on the TV in front of him. It had been three days since Grace and Max left him caged, and every moment since had been a whirlwind of frustration, longing, and a growing ache that refused to be ignored. The tight, unyielding steel of the chastity cage was a constant presence, its grip a maddening reminder of their control over him.

He shifted in his seat, letting out a soft groan as the cage pressed firmly against him. Relief felt so close, and yet completely out of reach. He was desperate for anything to distract him, but even his thoughts betrayed him, filled with Grace’s teasing smile and Max’s commanding voice.

The sharp buzz of his phone jolted him out of his spiraling thoughts. Heart racing, he snatched it from the coffee table, his breath catching when he saw the name on the screen. Grace.

With trembling hands, he opened the message.

Grace: Hello there, Luke. How’s my favorite locked-up boy doing? 😉

His cheeks burned as he read her words, the playful teasing making his stomach flip. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure how to respond. But the memory of her sly smile spurred him on, and he quickly typed a reply.

Luke: Hi, Grace. I… I’m okay, I guess.

The three dots indicating her typing appeared almost instantly, and Luke’s chest tightened in anticipation.

Grace: “Okay”? Oh, Luke, that doesn’t sound very convincing. Still getting used to the cage, are we?

He swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he replied.

Luke: It’s… a lot to adjust to.

Grace’s next reply came quickly, and her tone practically leapt off the screen.

Grace: I bet it is. So snug, so secure… I imagine it’s driving you a little crazy, isn’t it? Knowing I have the key?

Luke’s face burned as he read her words, his free hand unconsciously resting on the cage through his jeans. He felt utterly exposed, and yet her teasing only made the ache inside him grow.

Luke: It’s definitely… a constant reminder.

Grace’s response was immediate, and Luke could almost hear the playful lilt in her voice.

Grace: Good. That’s exactly how it’s supposed to feel. Tell me, Luke… have you ever done anything like this before? Or am I your first?

His heart pounded as he stared at the screen, his mind racing. He knew he couldn’t lie to her, not with the way she seemed to see right through him. Taking a deep breath, he typed out the truth.

Luke: You’re my first. I… I haven’t done anything like this before.

The three dots appeared again, and he could feel the anticipation building as he waited for her reply.

Grace: Oh, Luke… you’ve never done anything like this? Or anything at all? 😏

He hesitated, the weight of the moment settling over him. Finally, he admitted the truth.

Luke: I haven’t done anything. I’m… I’m a virgin.

Her reply took a little longer this time, and he could only imagine what she might be thinking. When it finally arrived, it made his breath catch.

Grace: Oh, sweet boy… that’s even better than I hoped. No wonder you’re so adorably eager. Don’t worry, Luke. Max and I will take very, very good care of you. But for now… you’ll just have to be patient. You’re locked up for a reason, after all.

Luke let out a shaky breath, his entire body buzzing with a mix of arousal and anticipation. His fingers hovered over the screen, but before he could think of a reply, another message came through.

Grace: Be good for me, Luke. And remember—every time you feel that cage, every time it drives you crazy, think of me. Think of the key resting safely in my possession. And think about what we’ll do to you when we decide you’ve earned it.

Luke groaned softly, his head falling back against the couch as the tension inside him coiled even tighter. He was completely at their mercy, and somehow, the thought only made him want them more.

Grace and Max lounged on their plush leather sofa, their bodies entwined as they indulged in each other’s presence. The dim glow of the room softened the edges of the world around them, leaving only the heat of their connection and the intoxicating thrill of their plans. Grace was draped across Max’s lap, her legs curled under her, her head resting against his broad chest. His hands moved lazily over her, stroking her bare arms, her thighs, every touch deliberate and lingering.

Grace tilted her head up to capture his lips, her kiss slow and sensual, her tongue teasing his as her fingers danced over his chest. Max responded eagerly, his hand slipping under the hem of her blouse to caress the warm, smooth skin of her back. Their kisses deepened, growing hungrier with each passing moment until Max finally pulled back, his breath hot against her cheek.

“He’s perfect,” Max murmured, his voice a deep, throaty rumble that sent shivers through her. “Young, eager, completely at our mercy. The way he looked at you—like he’d fall to his knees if you so much as crooked a finger.”

Grace smiled wickedly, her lips brushing against his jaw as she trailed soft kisses down his neck. “He’s everything I hoped for,” she purred. “So sweet, so innocent. The way he blushed when I teased him about the key… oh, Max, it’s almost too easy. He’s practically begging to be molded.”

Max groaned, his hand sliding up her thigh, his fingers digging in slightly as his excitement grew. “We’ll mold him, all right,” he said, his tone dark and rich with promise. “He’ll learn exactly how to serve us. Every touch, every look, every moment will be about us and what we want.”

Grace’s breath hitched as his touch grew more insistent, her body pressing against his as her smile turned sultry. “We’ll teach him to worship us,” she said, her voice dripping with sensuality. “Every little thing we do will become his world. He’ll learn to anticipate our needs, to find pleasure in our pleasure. He’ll crave the sight of me with you, knowing he’s not allowed to touch unless we decide he’s earned it.”

Max’s fingers traced the curve of her hip, his grip firm as his other hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back to claim her mouth in a heated kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes burned with intensity, his voice a low growl. “Do you think he’s ready for that yet? Ready to watch you with me, knowing his place is to serve and obey?”

Grace shivered at the question, her body arching against his as her nails dragged lightly over his chest. “Not yet,” she admitted, her voice soft but charged with desire. “He’s too new, too untouched. But the cage, the teasing, the way we keep him waiting… it’s breaking him down, Max. He’s already so close. I can see it in his messages, feel it in the way he responds to us. Soon, he’ll beg for the chance to prove himself.”

Max’s lips curved into a wolfish grin as his hands roamed her body, his touch igniting little fires everywhere it landed. “He’ll beg,” he said, his voice rough with arousal. “And we’ll make sure he earns every single moment. Every kiss, every touch, every ounce of pleasure—he’ll have to work for it, knowing it all belongs to us first.”

Grace let out a soft, breathy laugh, her hands sliding up to frame his face as she kissed him deeply, pouring every ounce of her anticipation and passion into him. When their lips parted, she whispered against his mouth, her voice husky and full of promise. “And when he’s ready—truly ready—he’ll thank us. He’ll thank us for showing him his place. For making him ours.”

Max groaned, his grip tightening as he pulled her fully into his lap, her body molding perfectly to his. “Ours,” he echoed, the word a vow, a promise that sent a thrill through both of them. Their lips met again, the kiss hot and demanding, their shared vision fueling their desire as they lost themselves in each other, savoring the pleasure of control and the anticipation of what was yet to come.

Luke sat on his bed, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he stared at the blank screen, willing it to light up with a message. The days since Grace’s last text had been agonizing. The cage was a constant, maddening reminder of her control, and his mind spun endlessly with thoughts of her and Max. Every brush of the steel against his skin sent a thrill through him, a mix of frustration and aching arousal he couldn’t escape.

When the familiar buzz finally broke the silence, his heart jumped, his fingers fumbling as he unlocked his phone. The name on the screen sent a jolt through him: Grace.

Grace: Hello, my sweet boy. Still being good for me? 😉

His cheeks burned as he read her words, the teasing tone making the cage feel even tighter. He quickly typed a reply, his hands trembling.

Luke: Hi, Grace. I’ve been trying. It’s not easy…

The three dots appeared almost immediately, and Luke’s stomach twisted in anticipation.

Grace: Oh, I’m sure it’s not. Feeling every little reminder of my key, aren’t you? Every ache, every press of the cage… all because you belong to me now.

Luke groaned softly, his free hand instinctively brushing against the cage, the steel unyielding beneath his fingertips. Her words sent a fresh wave of heat through him.

Luke: Yes, I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.

Her reply came quickly, playful and sharp.

Grace: Good. That’s exactly how I want you—thinking of me every second. You know, the key’s in a very safe place. Close to me at all times. Sometimes I just reach into my pocket and feel it, knowing it keeps you so perfectly locked for us.

Luke’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he read her words.

Luke: You’re driving me crazy…

Grace: Oh, I know, sweet boy. That’s the point. The cage isn’t just about control—it’s about anticipation. About making you crave every little thing we’ll do to you.

Luke swallowed hard, his mind spinning.

Luke: I already crave it. I can’t stop thinking about you. About Max. About… everything.

There was a pause before her next message, and Luke could almost feel her smirking as she typed.

Grace: Then it’s time, isn’t it? Time to show you exactly what it means to be ours. Saturday, Luke. If you want to continue with our arrangement, be ready at 7 PM. We have plans for you.

Luke’s pulse quickened, his entire body humming with excitement as he consented to continuing this kinky arrangment.

Luke: Saturday? Yes, I want to continue with our kinky arrangment. I’ll be there..

Grace: Oh, I know you will. But until then, I want you to think about this: every moment you spend in that cage, every little ache, every second of need—it’s all for us. And on Saturday, you’ll understand just how much we enjoy having you completely at our mercy.

Luke let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding as he stared at her words.

Luke: I can’t wait. Thank you… for everything.

Grace: Oh, don’t thank me yet, sweet boy. Save that for Saturday. 😈

The chat ended, but Luke couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. The anticipation coursing through him was almost unbearable, the thought of finally seeing them again—of whatever they had planned—consuming him. His entire world narrowed to the cage, the key, and the tantalizing promise of Saturday night.

Saturday came faster than Luke anticipated, and yet, every second leading up to it felt agonizingly slow. Now, as he stood outside the address Grace had sent him, his heart pounded so hard it felt like it might break free from his chest. The house loomed before him, sleek and modern, its large windows glowing warmly in the evening light. Despite the welcoming appearance, there was an undeniable air of mystery, a sense that once he stepped through the door, his life would change forever.

He hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorbell, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he saw a single message from Grace.

Grace: Come inside, Luke. The door’s unlocked. We’re waiting.

His breath hitched as he stared at the message, the words seeming to pulse in time with his racing heart. He reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Inside, the soft scent of jasmine and leather greeted him, the faint hum of music floating from deeper in the house.

"Luke," Grace’s voice called out, low and velvety, from somewhere beyond his view. "Close the door and come in. Don’t keep us waiting."

He obeyed, the door clicking shut behind him as he stepped forward. The hallway stretched before him, lined with soft lighting that seemed to guide him toward the living room. The sound of his own footsteps felt deafening against the silence, every step bringing him closer to the unknown.

When he reached the entrance to the living room, he stopped short. His breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene before him. Grace and Max sat side by side on a large, velvet armchair, their expressions calm but filled with an unspoken intensity. Grace held something small and metallic in her hand, twirling it between her fingers—a key.

"Luke," she purred, her lips curving into a sly smile as she leaned forward, her gaze locking onto his. "You’ve been such a good boy for us. But tonight…" Her eyes flicked to Max, who grinned darkly. "Tonight, we’ll find out just how far you’re willing to go."

Her words hung in the air, thick with promise and the weight of the unknown. Luke’s legs felt weak as he stood frozen in place, every nerve in his body alive with anticipation and fear. What did they have planned? What was waiting for him?

"Well?" Max’s voice was deep, commanding, as he gestured toward the space before them. "Are you coming in, or are you going to keep us waiting?"

The room seemed to spin as Luke took his first tentative step forward, his pulse roaring in his ears. Whatever was about to happen, he knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back now.