Free or Locked

 

I saw this picture and thought about the last time I was uncaged, last year. I was much like this, feminized, soft, leaking. I'd been teased but hadn't really swelled, just felt it inside me; it had been some time so leaking was almost constant.

Emily had the cage in her hand, ready to put it back on before "things got out of hand" meaning before I squirted. She'd been clear, we could play, but only play, no more.

But she paused.

"What?" I asked.

"You never really grew," she said.

I shrugged. "Caged, this is kind of the default state," I said.

"I like it," she said. She reached over, took the leaking drop on her finger, brought it to my mouth; I licked it, tasted it. "Small, soft, feminine. Just like you."

"Em..."

"Sometimes I wonder if we still need this," she said, looking down at the cage.

"You mean that?" I asked, wondering what it would like to be free again, not sure that was what I wanted.

She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we should try for a day or a week sometime. Remember when we started, you'd wear it for a week. Like reverse that, free for a day or a week."

It wasn't going to be that day as she reinstalled the cage, locked it. But I thought it might be a day soon.

But that wasn't to be, either. No, he has the key, now. There's no unlocking for a week, quite the opposite, there's no chance of any unlocking at all in 2025.

Somehow I went from thinking about a day or two free to knowing there would not be a minute free.

I showed Emily the picture, reminded her. She chuckled, not mean, just a gentle laugh. "Would you rather be locked or free?" she asked.

"You know," I said, a non-answer.

"Free or locked?" she asked again.

"Locked," I swallowed.

"Good girl," she smiled at me.