I’m enjoying the warm touch of Giada’s hands when my chattel arrives with the prosecco, eager to serve. He knows his place. I tell him to open it, not the tiny chastity cage he’s locked in, of course, just the bottle. Giada and I are having a party, and he’ll be there in his rightful role: silent, caged, blindfolded, and humiliated. He can hardly stand the thought. Just being near us makes him leak precum across my leg. Disgusting. I make him lick it clean. That’s the only drink he’ll have tonight. All men dream of a threesome, and he’ll have one tonight. He just won’t be part of it. While he worships our divine feet, we describe exactly how the evening will unfold. As Giada and I take our pleasure freely, kissing, touching, and enjoying every sensation, he’ll be helpless, caged, and blindfolded, left with nothing but the sound of our moans to torment him. He’ll ache. He’ll imagine. But he won’t be allowed anything. The more he listens, the harder he gets. His little locked dick turns a deeper shade of blue as my pleasure builds. It’s adorable how desperate he becomes, watching Giada kiss me while her hands tease my nipples and I toy with him using nothing but my foot. I brush against the cage and then bring my crop down sharply, making him twitch. Even pain arouses him now. That’s what chastity does. He watches, trembling and humiliated, as Giada caresses me while his own body is ignored. He dreams of touching me, of being inside me, of giving me pleasure. But he never will. His little fantasy ends where it began: locked up, denied, dripping. Now it’s time to prepare him for the party.