Are caged

Dread runs through your veins like icey slush. You quickly remove the panties to find a small pink cage. Emphasis on small, you think that there is you way your cock could have fit in this thing. The pink contraption appears to be entirely metal and nearly seamless besides where the base of the shafts meets the ring behind your balls.

You know some men overly identify with their clocks but you can't help feeling a kind of kinship with your little friend who is also locked in a cage.

You feel the harbinger of panic swelling in your chest but you must have expended your lifetime supply of cortisol last night because all that bubbles up is the weaker corners of your mind counciling reconciliation. Maybe this is all a mistake. Maybe you can reason with Cerve. You squelch these traitorous thoughts for now. The soft metal on your crotch is clear evidence that the duplicitous ai has designs against your interests.

Your resolve to resist now steadied you survey your options and come up with...