Day 31 - Consider A Moment
Oh, and your cage - not smooth plastic, but sharp, spiky metal, digging into every inch of you at your most flaccid. For the first year at least, the sight of my breasts would be more than enough to send you into sheer agony. If you were lucky, you might be able to train yourself not to get hard, to be a constant companion to that dull, throbbing ache, always half aroused but never more.
Of course, when I wanted to see you suffer, I'd find a way. And you'd want to suffer for me.
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