Harold's hands shook as he fumbled with his phone in the crowded train car, refreshing the tracking page for the hundredth time that morning. *Out for delivery.* The words should have brought relief, but seven days without his cage had left him feeling exposed, vulnerable in ways that made his skin crawl.
A week ago, the ring had snapped during a particularly intense morning arousal, the metal finally giving way after months of faithful service. The freedom felt wrong, unnatural. His cock hung loose in his boxers, unrestricted and somehow obscene without the familiar embrace of confinement.
The train lurched, pressing him against the woman beside him. Hannah, according to the name tag on her briefcase. She glanced at him with sharp green eyes, taking in his flushed face and obvious discomfort.
"You look like you're about to jump out of your skin," she observed, her voice carrying an authority that made his stomach flip.
Harold tried to laugh it off. "Just waiting for an important delivery."
"Must be very important." Her gaze traveled down his body with predatory interest. "You're practically vibrating with anticipation."
The train hit another bump, and Harold's uncaged cock stirred traitorously in his pants. Without the restrictive metal to keep him in check, every sensation felt amplified, dangerous. He pressed his thighs together, desperate for some semblance of control.
Hannah noticed the movement, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Having trouble keeping still?"
"Something like that," Harold muttered, his face burning with embarrassment.
"I know that look," she whispered, leaning closer until her breath tickled his ear. "That's the look of a man who's forgotten how to behave without proper... guidance."
Harold's breath caught. How could she possibly know?
"The way you keep shifting, trying to hide your reactions," Hannah continued, her voice dropping to a purr. "The desperate checking of your phone. You're waiting for something to put you back in your place, aren't you?"
His phone buzzed. *Delivered.* Harold nearly whimpered with relief.
"There it is," Hannah observed, watching his expression change. "Your salvation has arrived."
The train pulled into Harold's station, but Hannah's hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising strength.
"Next time you find yourself... unrestrained," she said, pressing a business card into his palm, "remember that some of us prefer our men properly contained."
Harold stumbled off the train, her words echoing in his head as he practically ran home to reclaim his submission.
