Emily Establishes Her Power

Emily smirks brightly as she notices you looking down at your new state. Your wiener twitching, flailing like a fish out of water, trying its best to get even the slightest bit hard but to no avail. It’s solely under her control now. Only she can allow it to get hard again. You look down at it with the sudden realization that she’s in complete control now. This isn’t just her saying she is, she’s actually taken that control and applied it and manifested it in a physical way. She owns you now. She controls you now, and now, if you ever want to have an erection again, you have to obey her and do what she says. You don’t have any choices any more. Your only choice now is simply if you ever want to get hard again, do what she says. You shiver at the thought, which makes her giggle with glee.

“So what do you think? Look at my new little toy, isn’t it so nice and soft! It’s being so good for me isn’t it aw yes it is it’s being so good not getting all hard and gross and powerful like a big boy does… It needs me to take care of it and keep it all safe and cozy and comfortable now in its nice little mini prison. No more growing and getting all big and hard any more for you little thing. You don’t have to worry about that any more.” She giggles happily and excitedly at her new control.

Inside the little cage, your now little tiny wiener is jumping around, flailing, twitching like crazy looking for any possible growth opportunity or escape path to get out of its plastic prison, but it simply can’t. There is none. Emily holds the key, and that’s that. It’s stuck, exactly as she said. Unable to grow, unable to be touched, unable to feel anything except for its plastic boundaries and the hope that one day if you do what Emily tells you to do she may let you out at some point in the future, maybe, if she wants to. Her choice. Her rules.

“I… I don’t know what to think. It can’t do anything at all any more unless you let it. Like it needs your permission to have fun and come out and play, like it’s grounded or something.” Emily giggles cutely.

“Yep! Exactly right! So now you see how this works, don’t ya. You misbehave or don’t listen, little tiny boy doesn’t get to come out of his little peepee prison. You behave and do what I tell you to and you’re a good boy and you treat me right as a good boyfriend, maybe the little guy will be allowed some free time every once in a while so long as I can keep watch and make sure he doesn’t do anything crazy like think he can spill some milk or something.” She teases lightly, referring to not letting you release and finish yourself off any more.

You had to admit you kind of expected her to make that a rule one way or another. No playing with yourself, no touching yourself, no finishing yourself off, however she was going to phrase it, but with this- it’s not just a rule, it’s a fact. You can’t. You can’t even do anything about it. You can’t even try it. You don’t even have the option to break the rule. You can’t even do it when she’s not looking or when she’s in another room or when there’s not any girls around. You thought maybe you might be able to get hard and sneak out a quickie when she was leaving you alone by yourself or something some time, but with this cage in the way, your wiener is now completely hers. It may be on your body, but it’s inside of her cage, and in a way that makes it kinda her property now. The little tiny, inch long piece of skin on the end of your body is now Emily’s wiener. It just so happens to be attached to you instead of her.

On top of all of that, there’s not any possible greater element of control a girl could possibly hold over a boy like you than control over his erections. Directly controlling his ability to get hard through a penis prison is the best form of control a girl could possibly think of to take control over a boy. You don’t get any pleasure without her permission, no fun without her permission, nothing. Any time you try to get hard, you have to think of her. The one who did this to you. Emily. Every time you look at her butt, blocked. Every time you look at another cute girl, blocked. Every time you hear a guy at practice talking about how he got a girl to screw with him, blocked. Any time you so much as think about anything relating to sex in any capacity, blocked. You think to yourself how many times anything that can make you hard pops up in the course of a given day.

“Hey Emily? Do you know how many times per day on average a boy actually tries to get hard?” You ask her, wondering if she might have the answer. She giggles happily.

“Mmm. I don’t know, but I bet it’s a lot. Boys get turned on a lot for a lot of different reasons, and their weenies tend to be really sensitive and get hard at even the slightest hint of anything sexual or humiliating or embarrassing or anything. My guess is probably like, I dunno. At least 10. Maybe 15? Is it more than that do you think? Are boys that horny all the time? If you’re awake for 16 hours, 8 would be one every other hour. It’s gotta be more than 8 though, no?” She replies. You shiver. 10 to 15 times per day, blocked. Your thoughts redirected back to her. To having to be her boyfriend. To having to serve her. To her control and power over you. To the flailing, the twitching, the **** of not being able to even get hard, let alone do anything about it.

“That’s what makes having one of these cages on you so important. If you’re talking to the guys at practice about how such and such girl has a cute butt, bam, deterrent. If you’re going on a walk and see a cute girl and think about what it would be like to be with her instead of me, bam, deterrent. If you even dare think about not listening to me when I tell you to do something as my fake boyfriend, bam, deterrent. Best of all, and maybe most importantly, when you go to lay down, and I’m not there watching you, and you just want to get hard and touch yourself and play with yourself and explode with me not there giving you permission to do that as your girlfriend? Permission Denied. No asking, no automatic assumption of permission unless I specifically unlock you. No touching, no playing, and absolutely, definitely no exploding, without me saying you can.” She smirks as if she’s very proud of this fact and considers it a great accomplishment.

You try and touch it, and feel the smooth, cold, restricting plastic rather than your own skin. As if you’re looking through the glass at a family member in jail you want to hug, but you can’t. All you can do is look at it all locked up, helpless, powerless, unable to feel the pleasure and ecstasy of an erection again. You sigh, having **** but to accept your fate. You are now under her control. No doubt about it.

“Now for the next part!” She smiles, as she takes the leash off your collar. You instantly feel good for a second, but not much more, before you see what she’s doing with it. Instead of having it attached to the collar she has on your neck, she quickly attaches a small metal ring around your balls and quickly attaches the leash to the metal ring, which it too has a lock on it that you can’t remove without her permission. Now, not only does she have control over your erections through the chastity cage, she also now has complete control over your testicles by having them leashed.

She wraps the other end of the leash around her pinky finger, directly attaching your balls to her finger, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase of a girl having you by the balls, or being wrapped around her finger. Now, you’re both, quite literally, at the same time.

“Now not only can I control your little weenies erections, but now I control your little balls too! You know how they say that a girl can have a boy by the balls, or a girl can have you wrapped around her finger or whatever? Well, how does it feel to be both!” Emily giggles excitedly about this new revelation. She controls both your boy parts now.

You look down and all you can do is blush. 3 hours ago, you were going out for a peaceful jog in the forest. Now, your balls are on a leash attached to a girls pinky finger and your wiener is locked up tight in a one inch plastic cage, unable to be touched. Both owned and controlled by the cute girl standing in front of you, your fake girlfriend, Emily.