Taking the Lad out of Alladin Ch. 09

Looking back, when the cage went on that was when things started getting weird between me and Jasmine. I mean, I don't think a lot of people end up with three wishes, use two of them, and still end up as a big tittied stripper trainee with a whole laundry list of new kinks. And Jasmine got sucked in too. At first I thought she was just doing it for cash, but I started to think the wish was nudging her in certain directions, mainly ones that involved me doing things that turned me on in spite of myself.

At first, it felt like we were equals or even partners, like Scooby and Shaggy. But once Jasmine put the chastity cage on me I started feeling like I was her bitch, like Velma and Daphne in this movie I watched on a shady Russian streaming site one night. Velma had this belt with a dick on it, and Daphne was on all fours making barnyard animal sounds and... Well anyway, Jasmine started to get really bossy once the cage was on me, and it just didn't seem like it was about the money for her anymore. I think she started liking it, you know, down there.

I stopped daydreaming and let out a muffled yelp and stood up on my toes. Jasmine had hooked a dog leash to the front of the cage, and jerked it behind me and up my ass crack. It was weird that she had a leash but not a dog, but that was the least of my concerns right now. That metal chain was cold as hell in my butt crack, and my balls couldn't figure out what to do or where to go. They couldn't sneak into my body anymore, the ring of the chastity cage held them outside my bilingual canal. The ring was too tight for them to squeeze through and escape too, and there wasn't anywhere else for them to go. That didn't stop Jasmine. She held the leash up, pulling it as far as she could, and barked an order. "Panties up!"

I whimpered around the ball gag in my mouth and pulled my panties up. Jasmine had added the ball gag after she got tired of my (as she called it) "whining punk ass bitch bullshit." I thought I was a pretty tough dude, but this cage and trying to tuck my dick back fucking hurt. But the wish wouldn't let me say no or disobey, so I pulled up the panties. We, well Jasmine, had decided to start with something easier to hide my junk with and I was in a pair of granny panties now. Big, pale blue, no lace or frills panties that covered about as much as tightie whiteys. They were a hell of a lot less sexy, but Jasmine thought they stood a better chance of hiding my cock than the frilly, lacy things we had started out with.

"Thighs together!" Jasmine again, sounding like a drill sergeant. I inched my legs together until my balls were thoroughtly smooshed and felt the drool running down my chin from the gag. She was behind me doing something with the waistband of the panties, the leash, and a roll of tape. I finally couldn't stay on my tiptoes anymore and let my feet fall down on the floor. My balls didn't hurt any worse, but they didn't hurt any less either.

"All right! I think we've finally got it!" Jasmine came around front with a grin and looked at my crotch. The grin disappeared. She looked me in the eye and sighed, then looked back at my crotch. "For fuck's sake, it looks like you shit your panties Alain."

My eyes widened and I shook my head.

Jasmine rolled her eyes. "I know you didn't, and no, I'm not into that. At all."

I sighed in relief as she rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes and ran her hand through her short cropped hair. I stood very still and tried not to move or think any sexy thoughts. I didn't need my dick making this worse.

Jasmine shook her head for a few more seconds then sighed. "Turn around."

I spun around in a circle, then there was a burning sensation as Jasmine yanked the duct tape off of my back. She yanked my panties down and unhooked the leash, then tossed it on the floor. She even unbuckled the strap to the ball gag in my mouth. "Take a break, sit down, I need to think about this. I guess those hours watching MacGyver were wasted."

I swallowed some extra spit, ran my hand across my chin, wiped the drool off where it had run down onto my boobs, and worked my jaw in relief. I went ahead and kicked the panties the rest of the way off, used my hand to arrange my balls so they weren't smashed between my thighs, and got comfortable on the floor. The carpet was old, almost worn through, and felt like sandpaper on my butt but it was better than standing there while Jasmine tried to wrangle my cock around like a reluctant terrier.

She took a drink from her cup of coffee and kind of stared at me without looking at me while she thought out loud. "With the cage on, you can't hide your balls. With the cage off, you can't control your cock. If we tuck your balls back first, nothing to hold the cock cage on." She didn't seem ticked off, just like she was making a grocery list. "What the fuck am I going to do with you?"

It didn't feel like she wanted an answer. It was quiet for awhile. I was starting to get nervous and sweat even though it was pretty cold in the apartment and I was naked. I tried to close my legs a couple of more times, to stop her staring, but I wanted her to see me locked up in the chastity cage. I really liked that she had a key to my rod, and I couldn't get hard without her permission. Not even a little bit.

It was dumb. How could I be this interested in a chick not letting me get off? But there it was. I felt... cherished? Like a really old snow globe. Jasmine was invested in my orgasms 24 hours a day while I was locked up. Even if she wasn't thinking about it while she was asleep, or on the can, or playing video games, there was another person who had as much invested in my orgasms as I did. It was kind of awesome, and I kind of wanted to keep doing it. It was kind of a warm, fuzzy feeling being locked up and on display like this, showing how much control she had over me. I wanted to feel it more, to wake up feeling like that, to be reminded when my team scored a home run and I stood up too fast.

But Jasmine seemed to think the cage was incompatible with stripping, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know what else she would come up with on her own. Time to play some defense, and I had a pretty good idea. "Uhm, maybe I could be a stripper in a wheelchair and keep a blanket over my lap? Like that one president with the water polo injury? I think I could hide the whole thing with a blanket, no problem."

Jasmine blinked then frowned. "FDR? Okay, no, because first of all he had polio, and polio is not sexy no matter how big your tits are. And second of all, no because not a lot of people want a lap dance from a person in a wheelchair. You'd get tire treads on their pants, and that's not great."

She had shot down my idea, but at least she was talking again. Then she went the direction I had hoped she wouldn't go. "Are you sure you don't want me to just give you a pussy and remove that thing? I get that it's probably your best friend, but it's also super inconvenient right now."

I shook my head frantically. "No, please don't! Please don't take it away Jasmine! You're super smart, you can figure something out!" My tits jiggled as I shook my head, but I couldn't even enjoy that right now. Being locked up was one thing, but losing my dick entirely was a whole new level of nope.

She tried to stop but I could see the corner of her mouth starting to smile. Her voice went up an octave, and she started teasing me, drawing out her words and talking to me like you'd talk to a puppy or something. "Oh, but Alain, you'd barely miss it! It's so tiny! You'd never satisfy a woman with it anyway! That's the smallest cage I have and you barely fill it! I've tried stuffing other cocks in it and they didn't even fit, but your sad little nub of-And oh, you have got to be kidding me!" I think she was really starting to enjoy herself, but her voice went back to ticked off there at the end.

I pulled my boobs apart and looked down. My penis was straining against the cage. It hurt, and I could actually see the flesh bulging out between the wire bars. It was going harder than that train engine going up the side of the mountain, but unlike the train engine it had nowhere to go. It just pulled the ring around my balls tight, and left me sore and super turned on. I could even see a little precome starting to ooze out. I wanted nothing more than to put my head between Jasmine's thighs while my dick strained against that cage, but the mood seemed to have been ruined. I put a hand out, "Jasmine, I'm sorry! It's not me, it's the wish making me all horny for this kinky stuff! Please don't take it away, please, we'll think of something!"

Jasmine sighed and looked away, which gave me a little relief. She took several deep breaths. "Okay, Alain, I will consider letting you keep that repulsive thing, but we're going to have to do something I didn't want to do."

"Sure, yes, thank you, thank you for letting me keep my cock!" I actually got on my knees and crawled over in front of her. I don't think it was even the wish, I was just terrified at the idea that I wouldn't have my Little Al anymore. My big boobs swayed beneath me, and I tried not to imagine how it would feel to have hands sinking deep into the heavy, soft flesh and knead them like bread dough. Ugh! Focus, Al, focus!

"Shut-up, and listen, and maybe you'll get to keep your sad little penis." She still wasn't happy, but it seemed like the immediate crisis was averted. I nodded and kept my eyes focused on the floor between her shoes and tried to not think of boobs. My boobs. My big, round, fuckbag dammit I needed to focus here!

Jasmine shifted in her chair and spoke to me slowly and calmly. "Here's what we're going to do. Or you're going to do. There's a club in town, but it's selective. And the strippers there also do a lot of sex work. But the customers are open to a stripper with a big rack and a dick. Or at least they have been in the past."

"That sounds perfect, great!"

"Shut. Up." I shut up, and Jasmine continued. "I had planned to get you work stripping at the same place I work at, where things would have been a lot easier for both of us. But if you're really determined to keep your penis, that's a deal breaker for them. Pussy only. Instead we'll work on your routine while we make the rounds and meet the people we need to meet to get you in there." She reached down, grabbed my chin, and pulled my head up to look her in the eyes. "They don't sell liquor, so you'll pay a door fee and you'll pay another fee for every dance that goes to the club owner, the bouncers, and the DJ. And as your manager I take 25% off the top, before any fees."

My face must have dropped, because she rolled her eyes. "Math is what's worrying you right now?! Christ on a defective dildo, I'll show you how to set up an Excel sheet on a phone, it'll do all the math for you. You won't even have to add your tips up, just count how many bills of each denomination you get and put it in at the end of the night You can count, right?"

"Yes, thank you! I can count!" I needed to cut my losses here before I lost my penis. "That sounds great, thank you!"

"Yeah, well, there's one more problem." She paused. "My ex runs the place. So that's not great, and you'll have to jump through some extra hoops."

I cringed, but nodded. I had a nasty breakup with my second girlfriend myself, and she worked at the gas station with the best hot dogs in town. I called her some things I regretted later, and she cut off my hot dogs, cold turkey. Which now that I thought about it, was kind of what I was trying to avoid here. I had learned my lesson though, and played it a lot cooler this time. "Okay, thank you Jasmine, thank you!"

"You're welcome." Her voice was softer at least.

It got quiet again, and I cleared my throat.

She didn't even consider it before speaking. "Nope, don't even ask. The cage stays on until you are a fully trained and working stripper. Work hard, do a good job and maybe I'll allow an orgasm, but I want you to be very motivated to improve and that seems to be the only thing you really care about. Sound good?"

I was hoping to jerk off to the memory of how it felt to be locked up, but not actually be locked up, which sounded like the best of both worlds, but at least this plan left my dick an outie rather than an innie. "Yes, yes, that sounds great, thank you!"

She stood up and dragged me upright by my hair. Somehow my dick was still pushing against the cage, and my nipples were even hard, but Jasmine either didn't notice or didn't care. "Okay, I guess you need to learn how to dance. The problem is, you're a fucking idiot. So, here's what we're going to do." She dragged a rolled up mat out of the closet, layed it on the floor, and started messing with stuff on the tv stand.

A dance video game filled the screen, and Jasmine pointed to the mat. "Dance, Alain. Dance like your filthy, nasty little cock depends on it. Because it does."

"Yes, Jasmine!" I tapped the start button in the middle of the big pad on the floor, looked down at the symbols, and arranged my feet. I skipped the tutorial because I'm not a schmuck, and started dancing. The weird part was, I played this game a couple of times before and hated it, but now I was kind of enjoying it. I started to wonder why, but luckily I didn't have time to think about it too much.

-Casey Heart