Seventy-five days locked in that chastity cage, no orgasm, just endless aching need—I can see it in the way your swollen cock strains against the metal, already leaking, desperate for a touch you’ll never earn. I unscrew the aroma and say, “Breathe it in, you filthy slut,” while you’re sobbing, your face a mess of sweat and tears, and I’m so wet I can feel it soaking my thighs. “3… 2… 1.” I rip the massager away, leaving you gasping, denied, and ruined. My fingers find your cage and squeeze out one thick drop of precum, which I smear across your flushed cheek while I laugh and watch it glisten there. I lift my dirty foot—grimy, sweaty, perfect—and shove it against your face. “Lick it off, whore,”