[English]He's there, lying before me, vulnerable, his cage t..

[English]
He's there, lying before me, vulnerable, his cage tight around his little cock. His body shivers under my caresses, his breath is short. He's hoping. Waiting. He believes, for a moment, that tonight I will finally set him free.

I let my fingers slide slowly over his skin, teasing the barrier that imprisons him, grazing what, without this cage, would already be far too hard. Each graze elicits a sigh, a muffled moan. He's at his wits' end... and I love it.

His eyes beg me. Envy, desperation, sheer frustration... it's all there, exposed, offered. I could... I could give him this gift, give in to his expectations. But where would be the fun in that?

So I smile. Then I laugh. Slowly, I sit up and watch him realize. Understand that he'll stay locked up, that he belongs here, beneath me, frustrated, desperate. I laugh at him, his naiveté, his ridiculous hope. His sex is hard... locked up... useless.

I love being cruel. I like to see how it destroys him. But most of all, I love to see how it excites him even more.

Tonight, as always... he'll stay in his place.
[Français]
Il est là, allongé devant moi, vulnérable, sa cage serrée autour de sa petite bite. Son corps frissonne sous mes caresses, son souffle est court. Il espère. Il attend. Il croit, l'espace d'un instant, que ce soir je vais enfin le libérer.

Je laisse mes doigts glisser lentement sur sa peau, taquiner la barrière qui l'emprisonne, effleurer ce qui, sans cette cage, serait déjà bien trop dur. Chaque effleurement provoque un soupir, un gémissement étouffé. Il est à bout... et j'aime ça.

Ses yeux me supplient. L'envie, le désespoir, la frustration pure... tout est là, exposé, offert. Je pourrais... Je pourrais lui faire ce cadeau, répondre à ses attentes. Mais où serait le plaisir ?

Alors je souris. Puis je ris. Lentement, je me redresse et je le regarde comprendre. Comprendre qu'il restera enfermé, que sa place est ici, sous moi, frustré, désespéré. Je me moque de lui, de sa naïveté, de son espoir ridicule. Son sexe est dur... enfermé... inutile.

J'aime être cruelle. J'aime voir comment cela le détruit. Mais surtout, j'aime voir comment ça l'excite encore plus.

Ce soir, comme toujours, il restera à sa place.