I sit here, legs spread, the cool air of the bedroom brushing against my exposed skin. The chastity belt, a constant reminder of my submission, hugs my thighs, the metal cold against my flesh. I can’t help but think about the orgasms I’ll never have, locked away in this cage, a sissy’s prison. The stockings, connected by a belt, accentuate the vulnerability, the helplessness. It’s a night of denial, a night of being reminded of my place. **The Locked-Up Night**The bedsheet beneath me is a mess, a testament to the chaos of my desires. I’m propped up on pillows, legs bent and spread, a position of utter exposure. The lighting casts shadows, highlighting the contours of my body, the curves that are now off-limits. The belt connecting the stockings is a visual cue, a symbol of my confinement. I’m a cuckold, a sissy, and this is my reality. **Embracing the Cage**I reach down, fingers tracing the edges of the chastity belt, feeling the lock that keeps me in check. It’s a strange mix of humiliation and comfort, knowing that I’m denied, that my pleasure is controlled. The thought of orgasms, of release, is a distant dream, a tease that keeps me in line. I lie back, eyes closed, imagining the nights ahead, the endless cycle of denial and submission. It’s a life I’ve chosen, a path I walk willingly, even as the cage bites into my skin.
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