Caged Bliss

1 December, 2006

A dog likes his cage because its safe and he doesn't have to worry about the neighbor's big dog with the massive jaw that will be lurking around the next corner. He gets to rest in his cage. He truly gets to REST.

A slave has for years been out there in the world flopping around, fending for herself, fighting off predators and even vultures on occasion, and she has had to carry around the weight of the world AND that heavy armor ... the shield, the sword, along with the ball and chain. How magnificent when she gets to STRIP it all away -- when her Master yanks it off of her for good ... when she gets to be bare naked exposed and for a change, without her own inadequate protection, but the safety she sought, now delivered from her Master.

This is entirely the ideology behind my cage. But it isn't always with this purpose. Punishment in the cage is horrendous to me -- it means i am separated from my Master.

Now ... let's visit the various cages ... as if we're window shopping!

i remember a few years ago feeling DESPERATE to feel the cage because my libido was wanting it. It was very primal, of course. Things are different now. Experiences are always unique and the Ones guiding you are unique and you grow and you change and so, i can't say i'm turned on by my cage, but i do enjoy it. Master has not trained me to live in the cage but i suppose, had He, i'd be telling a different story.

It used to be that the cage represented another dungeon fixture, no different from say, the cross or the breeding bench. It aroused me. That was its only purpose -- it was not anything used for discipline (and again, i'll remind the world that discipline is NOT a synonym for punishment -- discipline has to do with TEACHING ~exasperated roll of the eyes ... with smile~).

There were a few times, thankfully not many, when Master threw me into the cage and locked it and kept me there because i had done something wrong. There was that time when a lady friend really wanted to use me and there W/we were, the three of U/us awakening in Master's bed and she went to lick my pussy without permission and well, i was my usual swayable self -- too afraid to hurt someone's feelings by saying NO. i did TRY to say no -- i wanted to remind her that she had to ask Master but instead i nudged Master as if to report her -- to get Him to stop her so i didn't have to -- and right at that moment, just as her tongue was about to touch my clit, Master sat up, grabbed me by the hair and then the hand and marched me to my cage. Wow was that a shock to the lady friend.

i felt terrible remorse -- i never want to displease Master -- but even then, in the cage, it meant i was kept. i'd be corrected but i would not be discarded. The cage is a safe place. i'd rather be punished than for Master to not care about correcting me.

Then there was a worse time of punishment -- the time when i felt like i was serving a life sentence! i became restless ... i called out to Master after having been silent for .., who knows? An hour? Two hours? When He didn't answer, i started panicking. But you see, here again, this is a marvelous tool! i never repeated the bad behavior at issue again. i learned. It grew me into a better slave for Master.

Imagine if vanilla couples who quarrel would use such a simple remedy! The submissive one would be thrown in a cage and removed from the environment. she'd still be there, but she would not be able to antagonize -- T/they would disengage and respect each other rather than trying to change each other which basically means no respect at all.

One leader, one follower -- it is an ideal way to succeed in affairs of the heart! Even the leader changing the follower is not change as is known elsewhere -- He can't mold the little one unless He accepts her for who she is and then uses those traits to build what He likes out of her. Hence, she still gets to be herself but a BETTER self! Add here the cage and all it entails -- its versatile function, and well, just imagine it further! "i, helen, take You, Sir Lancelot, to be my Master and Lover and Disciplinarian and i promise to serve 'til death do U/us part or You deem me unworthy ... and i promise to submit to Your whip, Your penis, and Your cage that will contain me forever."

Sometimes the cage becomes a home away from home. Master tells me that His former slave REALLY loved the cage. she'd spend hours in there. she'd awaken in the morning and Master would want to continue to sleep and she'd request to be put in her cage. The cage was in a different room! she'd sit in her cage silent. For hours. Apart from her Master.

i can bet indeed that she was very happy. i'm a different kind of slave so i'm not sure i could find the same pleasure. i think her pleasure of the prolonged amounts of time just sitting in her cage not even interacting with Master was a matter of her desiring THAT much protection. Perhaps her life when leaving Master's physical care was that scary to her that her cage was truly her Sanctuary.

i relate to the cage in similar fashion but i am much too much of a sap to be apart from Master for long. i'd be more happy in His back pocket all the time -- just carried around and at His disposal.

There are romantic times in the cage, too, of course. The times that i get to rest in it after a very intense session when passion feels like Romeo & juliet despair turned poignant ... and then sometimes i even have breakfast in there. Master will pull up a chair and open up the cage so that He can feed me. It feels ethereal and i feel pretty. It really feels like the perfect statement of "Master and slave".

There was the REALLY arousing time when i was confined in my cage and Master pulled up a chair to clean shrimp and He used the top of the cage as a surface. Sometimes W/we are just near each O/other and there is no talking -- it is a sensational tickling of all senses when i just get to FEEL Master's presence while i am incidental. Lots of times, i am like an animated appendage when Master approaches a task. Other times i'm just there. i morph into a fixture, hopefully akin to an object d' art. It is a very interesting feeling. i don't even know how to describe it. All i know is that its arousing.

Its also arousing to think of the day when Master will assess another slave there in the middle of the room while i watch from behind the bars of my cage. i don't' know why that kind of removal of me and the imposed separation from the activity feels so stimulating. i think it must be the masochist in me. Or the voyeur. Probably the masochist more than anything -- for some reason, the aching for Master feels like the beginning of an intoxication -- the onset when the high is one you're attempting to reach.

i LOVE the sensation of looking up, reaching up and knowing that things are just slightly out of my grasp -- i WANT to stretch further than i'm capable. The climb is as invigorating as reaching the peak. i love imagining Master reviewing the other slave's body and turning her around to examine her matter-of-factly, but i OOZE HEAT when envisioning the next step, that being Him lubing up His cock to enter her while i am forced to watch from my cage. If not for the cage, i don't think it would have nearly the effect.

When Master puts me in my cage and goes out of the room, i feel special. This is the more rudimentary version of my cage. It represents the routine and the rhythm of my life as Master's slave. He doesn't allow me to roam around ... EVER! If i am in His home, i am either chained or caged. There is never a time when i'm flipping about on my own, doing my own thing, and the only thing close to it is if W/we are together and He has allowed me to dance or do my make-up and hair or use my litter-box. Otherwise, He makes sure i am secured by chain on my slave rug, in my doggy bed, in His bed, or in my cage.

Ironic as it is, it really is the ultimate Princess treatment. The greatest thing of all, is that i'm always tethered and contained! i don't have to worry about the neighbor's big dog with the massive jaw anymore.

i'm found and brought home and cared for in a way that is completely contrary to general animal regard. i'm the pampered pet like some ugly little Chihuahua with a Gucci collar on Park Avenue. Other times, i'm the playful faithful mutt in the park and other times still, i'm the sleek elegant Borzoi on the dog-show runway. i'm no longer out there in the junk pile having to be scrappy just to hold down my turf. Survival is really not an issue these days. i don't have to fend for myself anymore -- there's now someOne Who will consistently defend me and keep me safe, locked up, and in His cage. my cage is really a palace of grand scale and epic proportion.