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He pushed back eagerly against the pressure, taking the widest part of the bulb with a broken moan as the plug seated deep inside him, stretching him wide and keeping his insides full.

“Ten strokes with the belt,” I commanded, stepping back. “You’re going to count every single one and thank me for reminding you how brave you are. If you call yourself weak again, the count doubles. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The first crack of the belt across his cheeks made him jolt forward with a sharp cry. The silicone plug shifted deep inside him, and he clenched visibly around the base. Red, hot blood bloomed instantly across his pale skin.

“One, Sir. Thank you.”

By the fifth stroke, he was shaking violently, tears slipping down his face, but his caged cock strained desperately against the steel, leaking a steady stream through the slit. On the eighth strike, his vocal cords snapped: “I... I’m weak—”

I stopped instantly, pressing my palm flat between his shoulder blades, grounding him.

“Wrong,” I growled. “You don’t get to lie about yourself on my boat.” I set the belt down and picked up the heavier wooden paddle. “That just earned you fifteen more. And you’re going to repeat after me: ‘I am brave for taking what I need.’”

I brought the paddle down hard. The loud, echoing thwack filled the room, the blunt force jostling the plug deep inside his prostate.

He cried out, his voice echoing off the bulkheads. “I am brave for taking what I need, Sir!”

Again. Harder.

“I am brave for taking what I need!”

His ass was bright crimson and burning hot to the touch by the time I finished the count, the plug still firmly seated between his punished cheeks. He was sobbing openly now, but his hips kept pushing back against the air, chasing the raw sensation. Desperate. Needy. Beautiful.

I dropped the paddle onto the blankets and ran my hands over his burning skin, gripping the base of the silicone plug and giving it a slow, cruel twist inside him. He keened, his head dropping into the pillows.

“You’re still trying to get hard in that cage,” I murmured against his neck. “Still leaking like a faucet even while locked. Does being turned on remind you of how strong you are to be hard like this?”

“Yes, Sir,” he gasped out.

I pulled the plug out slowly, watching his hole flutter and wink in the low light. Then I slicked my own cock and pressed into his still-tight, pre-stretched heat in one long, relentless thrust. He was scorching hot inside, still slick from last night’s load and the fresh lubrication.

“Fuck. George... Sir!” he choked out.

I fucked him deep and hard, one hand fisting tightly in his dark hair, the other reaching around his torso to fondle his locked length, my thumb teasing the slick slit of the cage.

“Say it again,” I demanded, angling every heavy slam of my hips against his prostate until the wood frame of the berth creaked. “Tell me what you are.”

“I’m... brave, Sir... fuck. I’m brave for taking this—”

“That’s right.” I bit down hard on his shoulder blade, marking him clearly. “Brave. Strong. And fucking mine.”

I stroked the cage in time with my thrusts until his entire body suddenly seized. He came dry and desperate inside the steel, his inner muscles clamping down around my cock like an absolute vice as a broken scream tore from his throat. I followed him right over the edge, growling as I pumped into him, claiming him deeper than I ever had before. Hitting his sweet spot one last time, groaning as my own release tore through me, filling him completely before I collapsed against his back.

Afterward, I unclipped his cuffs from the chain, freeing his arms. Before the afterglow could fade, I slicked the silicone plug once more and eased it back into his stretched, slick hole, sealing my release inside him to keep him full. He shuddered deeply at the sudden return of the fullness. I left the steel cage locked.

I pulled his limp body down into my arms, rolling us onto our sides. He was shaking, floating high in subspace, his tears still wet against his cheeks. I wrapped my massive frame tight around him, sheltering him from the cold drafts, stroking his hair and pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“You’re not weak for wanting this,” I whispered against his ear, my voice thick. “You’re brave as hell, Sig. And I’m going to keep reminding you of that... every single night you come back to me. Locked and plugged until I say otherwise.”

Santiago buried his face deep into the crook of my neck, breathing me in, and for the first time since that first day, I felt him truly relax in my hold.

I HELD HIM FOR A VERY long time.

Sig was still trembling in my arms, his body hot and marked, his ass glowing red from the belt and the paddle while the base of the silicone plug peeked between his cheeks. His caged cock rested heavy and denied against my thigh. His breathing was ragged against my neck as I stroked slow, soothing lines up and down his spine, grounding him. Every few seconds, a soft, broken whimper escaped his lips. I pressed my mouth to his damp forehead, tasting the salt of his tears.

“You did so well, baby,” I murmured, my voice low. “So fucking brave. I’m proud of you.”