Yes

You feel a painful, longing throb as you say, "Fuck you, Brad. I'll never be your bitch, but when mommy and daddy get home they'll punish you for being such a bad boy!" Brad smiles cockily, seemingly unimpressed with your tantrum. You vow to show him how wrong he is, and head back to your room, **** yet determined.

It's not even an hour later before you wish you had surrendered sooner. You wonder what you would have to do to make it up to him so he would make you his bitch. You squirm and writhe in needy frustration, everything you do to distract yourself just causes your cock to stir painfully in your cage.

You never noticed how hunky fighting game characters are until you tried to play online in your pretty pink plastic cage. The taunts of online combatants telling you how they are going to dominate and destroy you making you wish Brad was there to "finish" you.

You try to surf the internet, but even cute kitten memes make you imagine soft, fluffy fur on your painfully prisoned prick. You begin imagining big, red doggy dicks destroying those soft pussies and shut your laptop with a whimper.

You sneak downstairs luckily avoiding your jailer and sneak a bottle of top shelf whiskey from your father's liquor cabinent, hoping to drown the fire in your longing loins. But after a few heady swigs, all you can think of is how mad your daddy will be when he finds out you drank his best brandy, and all the ways he might "punish" his naughty little girl.

You try watching tv, but every channel is filled with stupid, sexy sluts and arrogant, asshole alphas, and you ache and long and drool imagining all the ways Brad would put you in her place.

Your head is swimming, you decide to take a cold shower to cool off, but your fingers have other ideas, sliding soap slick into your aching asshole to make sure it's thoroughly cleaned. You feel the tantilizing, teasing beginnings of somethihg bubbling up, beautiful and burning inside you. It's not nearly enough. **** and nearly defeated, you check the time to see how many more agonizing hours you need to spend before you can try to face another day before your parents come home. It's 9:31...AM!

You fall to the floor, knowing you've lost. You sneak into your older sister, Brandi's, room, secure in the knowledge she's also searching for dick, albeit on a sunny beach for sring break. Broken, you find her sluttiest nylon black thong panties and write "BITCH" on your forehead before slinking downstairs.

You find Brad lounging in the dining room, naked of course, bored and hard while engrossed in his Iphone. You fall to your knees like it's the most natural thing in the world. Kissing his feet as you beg, "I'm so sorry, master. How can I make it up to you?"

Brad's smile is beaming, and brutal. "Suck my cock and swallow my cum, you faggot bitch." You feel a regretful sense of relief as you kiss your way up his powerful calves, along his thick thighs, around his beautiful balls, and drool all the way up his scrumptious shaft. By the time you do, you're so drooly and achy you'd do anything to feel him fuck the cum out of you. You ask sissy sweetly with sugar on top, "And then you'll fuck me, master?"

Brad stares down at you coldly, like you were a bug on the shit on his shoe. "No. But you can suck it anyway if you want." You feel your heart sink, knowing sucking his cock will mean your ultimate surrender, only without the sweet release as a reward. Still, you are so horny, so hungry, so agonizingly aching to cum. If you can't, the next worst thing is to make sure he fills your drooling mouth with his.

You spend the rest of the day perfecting your blowjob technique, milking his creamy cum from his perfect prick down your ravenous maw. Between every sticky, shameful suck off, you add another alluring addition to your outfit, until you fall asleep throbbing and drooling in head to toe leather slut gear.

You barely sleep and when you do it's filled with deep dicked dreams of Brad finally, mercifully destroying you. You wake up to the hard reality of your painful, pink, pathetically puny, pink plastic prison. You slip downstairs and make Brad breakfast in bed...eggs, bacon, and a blowjob, but still he doesn't fuck you. It's another day filled with deepthroating dick and desperation, and when he says that he's thinking of inviting friends over you eagerly agree.

All the bullies from your childhood. All Brad's friends that pushed you into lockers and called you a locker and called you a cocksucker or a faggot or a sissy got to see how right they were as you served the guests in your sister's "slutty maid" Halloween costume and made sure all of their cocks left spit-shine clean.

By the time came to tuck you in, you were mad, mindless, so used to aching it began to feel normal. Brad looked down on you with uncharacterstic compassion and said, "Look, little sis, I know you think you want to cum, but really that's just the old you hanging on before dying. I tell you what. Keep drooling and deepthroating me and my friends, and your high school buddies I invite over to use you, and strangers I sell your throat to, and then, when the week is up, you can tell mom and dad you've realized you should have been born a girl. Then, and only then, I'll let you move in with me off campus and fuck the cum out of you...every so often."

What could you say? You give his cock a wet kiss that turns into wetter sucks and moan, muffled, "Thamph yoo"