A new cage (and other toys)!

"First," she says, "while your gigantic clitty is still tired from that big cum you just had, we should clean you up and swap out your cage. I got you this knowing you couldn't last much longer."

She pulled out a box, which she opened to reveal an anodized pink metal cage, the thing looked diabolical, a little smaller than your plastic piece and with an integrated tubular lock.

Suiting word to deed, she extracted your member, wiped it down with some hand cleaning towelettes, and got it in its snug new prison. The metal cage was heavier, seemed more permanent, yet more comfortable. The thought of another long, boring dry spell looked before you, and she tapped the cage with her fingernail.

"Oi, don't look so glum. Now that you've had an orgasm without your dick, I plan to give my pretty sissy plenty more of those. You always let me know how sexy I was with lots of fucking in all my holes, it's only right you get some of that." Carrie's grin broadens, if anything. "Next up, a toy just for your freshly deflowered ass." She extracts the toy from another box she'd hidden under the bed. It's a smallish thing, kind of pear shaped and about ten centimeters long, probably fifteen in diameter at its thickest point, and a bright shiny stainless steel. "You've heard of Ben-wa balls? Carrie asks you, her eyes flashing pure mischief. "This plug is hollowed out inside, and a heavier metal ball is suspended in a viscous fluid in there, it will make this plug dance and wobble inside you; pulverize your prostate. I'll make a bet with you: let me shave your legs and ass, put on one of my garter belts, panties, stockings and heels sets you always love to watch me prance around in, and you won't make it from one end of the apartment to the other without cumming your panties with this thing in you. If you make it, I'll unlock you and suck your cock till you cum down my throat. If you don't, you absolutely have to use the fourth and fifth gifts I have planned for yourself."

"As you just pointed out, my butt is freshly deflowered, and that thing looks like a Fiat." You protest, but even you can hear the longing to get your butt filled with it in your voice. "Second, we don't have a pair of heels that'll fit me."

"Brings me to my third gift," she smirks as she pulls out a shoe box, containing a pair of black pumps with an ankle strap and a medium spool heel. A cute heart shaped lock seems to be what's intended to clasp the ankle straps. "One rather large pair of heels, sized thirteen. Should work on your feet."

"Looks like you've got it all figured already," you smile conspiratorially, "what are the fourth and fifth prezzies?"

"A six day, five night feminization course with an image consultant, voice coach and makeup artist and a seven-hundred dollar gift card for Inspirations, the place you usually get my slutwear." She was grinning. "Up for the challenge?"