Page 37 of Thwack!

Santa rummaged through the sack and came out with something shiny. “We’re going to need some ice for this.”

Some ice for what? To cool off his ass?

Gerry stood up, vaguely concerned as Santa headed for the kitchen. Santa returned with a handful of ice in his right glove, and before Gerry understood that he should vehemently object to what was about to happen, it had already happened. Santa had slapped the handful of ice around Gerry’s hot and ready erection.

He shrieked as his cock wilted faster than it ever managed to get hard, shrinking into the smallest, coldest, saddest anti-cock that had ever worn a… cage?

Gerry stared down, disbelieving. Santa had slapped a cage around his dick. Santa had withered his dick into nothingness and then locked the nothingness up. Gerry reached for the cage, first touching, then pulling, then yanking hard enough to make himself yowl as the retaining ring tried to separate his balls from his body.

“There you go,” Santa said, as if something had been fixed. “No more pesky erections to distract you from your work.” He patted Gerry on the shoulder, then turned for the door.

“The key.” Gerry tried to follow Santa, stumbled over his pants, which were still around his ankles, yanked his pants up over the offending cage, and managed to get to the door before Santa opened it. “Where’s the key? Give me the key. You can’t leave me like this.”

“Don’t worry, Ger. I’m not abandoning you. When you’ve earned your bonus, I’ll unlock your dick. And in the meantime, I’ll be here every night to check in on you and see what kind of punishment you’ve earned. So be a good boy and go get some work done,” he added cheerfully before departing with a lighthearted whistle and a friendly wave.

Gerry did not, of course, immediately go get some work done. First he spent a good fifteen minutes holding a screwdriver dangerously close to his ball sack trying to get the cage off, but eventually he gave up. It was either see what they could do for him at the emergency room or play the hand he’d been dealt, which meant going back to his laptop and using it for something other than watching porn.

The next day at lunch he sat at his usual table in the cafeteria with a hard, foreign weight between his legs, waiting for Hugo. He had something to ask Hugo, something very important.

“Can Human Resources see what we do on our computers?” he demanded, before Hugo even had a chance to sit all the way down.

Hugo shook his head.

Well, that was a relief. A huge relief. He wasn’t about to get fired. But that didn’t explain who Santa was or how he’d known what Gerry had been up to.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Hugo said as he unwrapped a sandwich. He took a healthy bite and chewed it slowly, contemplating Gerry as he did. “That would be a security concern and a violation of several laws. So definitely no, no one can see what you do on your laptop. Except, of course, Audit.”

~~The End~~

If you enjoy seeing a bad boy who’s been spending too much time jerking off get his comeuppance (and his cock in a cage), try His Boy, Alex. Alex really can’t seem to keep his hands off his dick until his boyfriend takes the matter out of his hands

And if you want to deep dive into chastity, take a look at Locked, which fully explores the subject of cock cages with bonus spankings

Happy Birthday, Hayden

“Happy birthday, Hayden!”

Hayden blinked his owlishly large eyes at the man who’d just greeted his arrival in the dining hall with such well-timed birthday salutations. He would have laid odds that Jacob Bubowski didn’t even know he existed, never mind when his birthday was. He’d only been a member of Phi Beta Alpha for a few weeks, and Jacob Bubowski, who was a well-established senior, hadn’t paid him any attention during those few weeks. Not that he’d expected attention.

He’d pledged Phi Beta Alpha because he’d heard they were cleaning up their act after some fairly public ethics violations, trying to foster diversity and reduce hazing. And indeed, the rush parties had been tame. Bouncers had actually checked IDs at the door, and only people with a wristband had been allowed to drink. Sure, some pledges, including Hayden, had skirted that rule through various means, but no one had forced alcohol down his throat or made him streak naked through the quad or eat pig intestines or any of the stuff you heard about on the news.

He hadn’t told them he was gay, but he hadn’t pretended to chat up girls either, and so far no one seemed to care. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not that he wanted to be bullied, but he’d expected more out of joining a fraternity than Sunday brunch.

“Oh, um, thanks.” He gave Bubba, as everyone called Jacob Bubowski, a polite wave as he took a seat at the far end of the long table from him.

“Trust Bubba to know when everyone’s birthday is,” the guy he’d sat down next to said, which was odd.

Bubba didn’t seem like the kind of person who would know when people’s birthdays were. He was the weightlifter type with huge, hulking shoulders and thick thighs which were almost always on display in athletic shorts cut surprisingly high. He had a perfect wave of blond hair, like a Ken doll, and an all-American smile that would have come across as boyish if he weren’t so big. He looked like an angel. Like a warrior angel. Like an angel who was about to fuck you up. Hayden both feared it and wanted it in equal measure.

Bubba was beaming at him from farther down the table as if the idea of Hayden having a birthday really did delight him, though the glint in his eye made Hayden suddenly need to swallow.

“Is there going to be cake?” he asked tentatively because something had Bubba excited.

“Yeah, sure,” Bubba agreed. “I’ll pick one up. What’s your favorite?”

“Chocolate?”