Ask about dad

You stand perfectly still in front of her, the extra second of hesitation already behind you, and force the quiet question out.

“When… when is the cage coming?” Your voice sounds smaller than usual. “And… is Dad getting one too?”

Your mom’s eyes gleam. The vacant bimbo softness is still there, but the hunger and meanness underneath sharpen at the sound of your obedient curiosity. She looks from your soft little cock to your dad’s and back again, clearly pleased that you’re already asking for details instead of protesting.

“Oh, baby,” she purrs, voice low, sultry, and dripping with degrading affection. “You’re so eager. That’s exactly what Mommy likes to hear.”

She reaches out again, this time wrapping her fingers all the way around your soft cock. It disappears completely inside her fist. She gives it a slow, dismissive squeeze, then a couple of idle strokes that make the tiny length firm just enough to push the head out past her fingers before it shrinks back.

“This little white boi clitty is getting locked as soon as possible. I’ve already got the perfect cage in mind—small, pink, shiny, with a little heart-shaped lock. Something cute and obvious so everyone can see that what’s between your legs doesn’t get to come out and play anymore. It’ll keep you soft and tiny and completely useless while real black cocks take care of me.”

She releases you and turns her attention to your dad, lifting his soft cock the same way, examining it with the same clinical, sexual interest.

“And yes… Daddy’s getting one too. Maybe a little bigger than yours, since he’s still got slightly more to work with, but still tight enough that he’ll never forget what he is now. Matching sissy cages for my two beta boys. Pink for you, maybe black for him. Or maybe I’ll put you both in the same style so it’s clear you belong together—locked, soft, and owned.”

She lets his cock drop and sits back on the couch, spreading her knees so the short skirt rides up and the bare, glistening lips of her pussy are fully visible. One manicured hand drifts down and begins stroking her clit in slow, lazy circles while she keeps talking, eyes never leaving the two exposed packages in front of her.

“I’m going to measure you both properly first. Length, girth, how small you get when you’re locked and denied. Then the cages go on and they don’t come off without my permission. You’ll wear them while I get dressed up for real men. You’ll wear them while I suck big black cocks right in front of you. You’ll wear them while I get bent over and fucked deep and hard, the way these little clitties could never manage. And every time you feel the cage and hear the little lock click, you’re going to remember that this is what you are now—sissy support for the Queen of Spades.”

Her fingers move a little faster between her legs. A soft, wet sound begins to fill the room. She lets out a breathy moan, still staring at your soft cock like she’s already imagining it trapped behind pink metal bars.

“You’ll thank me when it’s locked. You’ll thank me every morning when you wake up soft and caged. You’ll thank me when you watch a thick black cock stretch me open and pump me full while your little white boi clitty throbs helplessly in its cage and can’t do anything about it. That’s the future, baby. That’s what you just asked for.”

She crooks a finger at you, then at your dad.

“Closer. Right between my knees. I want both of those clitties close enough to feel my breath while I tell you exactly how the locking is going to go.”

You step forward until you’re standing between her open thighs, your soft little cock only inches from her face and her working fingers. Your dad moves in beside you. The scent of her arousal is strong. Her eyes flick from one modest cock to the other, pupils blown wide with lust and power.

“I’m going to make you both watch me open the package when it arrives. I’m going to make you hold your own little clitty still while I slide the cage on. I’m going to lock it myself and keep the keys on this choker right next to my spade.” She taps the charm at her throat. “And then I’m going to have you kneel and thank me for finally putting these useless white things where they belong.”

Her fingers are shiny now, rubbing faster. Her hips shift on the couch cushion. The degradation in her voice is pure erotic heat.

“You’re going to look so pretty locked. Both of you. Soft little bulges behind pink bars, no more free movement, no more pretending you were ever meant to fuck anyone. Just locked sissy clitties that exist to be ignored while Mommy gets the black cock she actually needs. And the best part?” She smiles, slow and filthy.

“You’re both already hard at the idea, even while you’re still soft. I can see it. These little things are twitching because they know they deserve the cage.”

She is right. Your cock gives another helpless, visible twitch only inches from her face. Beside you, your dad’s does the same. The tiny movements are impossible to hide.

Your mom lets out a low, throaty laugh of pure satisfaction. Her fingers keep circling her clit, the wet sound growing louder in the quiet living room. She leans in even closer until her warm breath ghosts directly over your soft little cock.

“Look at that. Twitching for the cage. Twitching because Mommy told you it’s going to be pink and tight and permanent. You don’t even need to get fully hard—these little white boi clitties are so eager to be locked they jump at the mere mention.”

She turns her head slightly and blows the same soft stream of air across your dad’s cock, watching it twitch in identical surrender.

“Both of you. Matched set of locked sissy clitties. I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up around them. Little skirts that don’t quite hide the bulge of the cage. Panties that stretch over the plastic or metal. Maybe even a tiny pink bow on yours, baby, so everyone knows which locked clitty belongs to Mommy’s favorite sissy son.”

Her free hand rises and she traces one fingertip along the underside of your soft cock, from base to tip, slow enough to make your knees weaken. Then she does the same to your dad. The dual, feather-light touch makes both cocks firm the smallest amount—still nothing impressive, still clearly clitties—but enough that the heads push out a little further.

“I’m ordering the cages tonight,” she continues, voice thick with arousal. “Express shipping. They’ll be here before the weekend. Until then, these stay soft and available for inspection whenever I want. No touching without permission. No cumming. No pretending you still get to decide what happens to them. They’re already mine. The lock is just a formality.”

She pulls her hand back from between her legs, fingers shiny, and holds them up in front of your face.

“Clean.”

The single word is soft but absolute. She doesn’t specify which of you; the expectation is clear that both sissies will take care of it. Her other hand returns to lazily stroking her clit again while she waits, eyes half-lidded, still seated with her knees spread and the two soft, twitching white cocks on display right in front of her.

The scent of her is strong. The future she described—pink cage, locked clitty, permanent—feels close enough to touch. Your little cock gives one more involuntary twitch, as if agreeing on its own.

What do you do?

Lean in and start cleaning her fingers with your tongue, obedient and thorough, while your soft cock continues to twitch inches from her face.

Wait half a second to see if your dad moves first, then join him in cleaning her fingers together, sharing the task like the matched set of sissies she called you.

Softly ask permission to clean them properly on your knees, already sinking further into the locked-clitty future she has planned.