Putting my Money Where my Mouth is (M/M) *New Part Oct 24*
Posted: Sun Feb 27, 2022 10:00 am
Part 1 — A Rude Awakening
“Ready, boi?” Master’s gravelly voice penetrated the silence, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands rested heavily on my shoulders, firmly kneading them in a way that was more unsettling than comforting.
This was the culmination of months of talking and texting, constant blabbering about my every most depraved fantasy. I was bursting with excitement as I arrived at his front door and followed him without question to this spare bedroom at the back of his home only minutes ago.
But now, I was staring nervously at the scene in front of me. We were facing a cramped walk-in closet, a metal dog crate seated in the center of it. Deep breath. I wanted this… right?
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he slid his hands down my sides and pulled my shirt off over my head. I shuddered with my smooth, slim torso exposed to the air.
“Hahhh…” I breathily moaned as he slid his hands up my front and pulled me against him. My toes curled as the much taller, bulkier man pressed my body against his, my head nestled between his pecs.
“Oh, you sound plenty ready, boi…” Master abruptly took a step forward, shoving me along with him, and bent me over the front of the dog cage. I shivered as the cold metal bars lining its roof pressed against my skin. He reached over me and I felt a few coils of rope drop down onto my upper back.
“F-fuck…” I muttered under my breath, my mind swimming with nervousness, fear… and unbearable arousal. My wrists were grabbed and roughly yanked behind my back. The rough embrace of rope wrapped around and around my skinny wrists, with far more force than necessary. I lost count at about 8 passes, but he was still going, tighter and tighter.
“Hhhh… M-master? Does it need to be so tight?” He’d always insisted on being called ‘Master’ during our earlier talks. It hadn’t occurred to me until now that I didn’t actually know his real name.
He ignored me, continuing to loop the rope around my thoroughly bound wrists before he finally cinched and knotted it off with a grunt. As I twisted my hands about, I discovered my fingers couldn’t hope to reach the knot. It was painfully tight. I pressed my cheek against the dog cage and shifted around uncomfortably. I took a deep, shaky breath. Come on, I wanted this.
He repeated the process just above my elbows, drawing them closer and closer. A pained whimper escaped my throat as he forced them to meet, pressing my forearms together, cinching and knotting the ropes off.
I flexed my fingers, trying to power through the rather strong pain in my shoulders from being drawn so far back.
“C-come on…” I whimpered, betraying a hint of frustration as he looped rope around the front of my shoulders and behind my upper back, drawing my shoulders even further back. Knotting it off between my shoulder blades, my shoulders were wrenched back to their absolute limit, with my chest forcibly puffed forward. I gritted my teeth as the pain in my arms reached a new height.
I was at least somewhat distracted from the pain in my arms when Master yanked my pants off, leaving me in nothing but the too-small white speedo he’d instructed me to show up wearing. “Mmm, there’s that cute little ass.” he said, grabbing me with both hands. “That’s my ass now. Isn’t that right, boi?”
All I could hear was my blood rushing in my ears. I moaned softly, arching my back and leaning back into his hands. My cheeks were bright red, and my eyes rolled back a little.
“Heh…” Master smirked as he grinded forward, the growing bulge in his pants sliding up between my cheeks.
That evidently wasn’t the response he was looking for, though, because in an instant he nearly knocked me clean onto the floor with the force of the spank he brought down across my unsuspecting ass. “I said isn’t that right, boi?”
I cried out at the sudden pain. “I-I’m sorry! Master! Y-yes, that’s right…” My voice trailed off; I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. Without warning, he spanked me with his other hand just as hard.
Only this time, the force did knock me off the dog crate. The air was knocked out of my lungs as I slammed onto the ground. I breathlessly wheezed and gasped for air, curled up into a fetal position.
Master grabbed me by the upper arm and yanked me upright, standing facing him with the cage directly behind me. He leaned in close, and in a low, threatening tone, said “Your ass is mine.”
I silently nodded, petrified with fear. “What, nothing left to say? Good. Then you’re ready for your gag.”
My stomach dropped as I remembered the constant back-and-forth we’d shared on that particular topic: my gag. I’d spent the entire last two months egging him on about how I wanted… no, needed… the most musky socks he could produce. Talk is cheap, though. This was real.
He took his hand off my arm and grabbed the back of my head, clamping his other hand over my mouth. His hands were so huge, and his arms were so powerful, it felt like he was crushing my head. His hand covered everything from my chin to my nose in a sweaty, airtight seal.
“Oh, you’re gonna love what I’ve got in store for you. Wore ‘em to the gym every day, for two months. I’m even wearing them right now, just for you…” I looked up at him with pure terror in my eyes. My chest heaved uselessly as I desperately tried to breathe, my flight instinct fully taking over.
He held my head clamped between his hands, forcing me up onto my toes as he stared intensely into my eyes. I was seeing red. I tried to lurch from side to side, trying to break the seal for even a single tiny breath. But as the seconds dragged on, my struggles grew weaker and weaker. The corners of my vision were fading to black, and he steadily lowered me down as my legs weakened and gave out beneath me.
I sat with my legs folded and spread limply, looking up at him with tears running down my cheeks, when he finally shifted his finger to allow me to take the briefest half-second gasp of air through my nose. The darkness in the corners of my vision retreated somewhat, and the barest hint of strength in my legs returned.
“Plff…” Please, I cried, muffled to near-silence behind Master’s huge, sweaty hand. My chest heaved as I breathlessly sobbed, and the strength slowly drained from me again.
He shifted his finger again, allowing me one more short gasp, right as I was about to lose consciousness. He kept this up for what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been longer than half an hour. I was a wreck, my hair disheveled, completely soaked in a sheen of cold sweat. Between the tears filling my eyes, and the ever-present partial blackness, I couldn’t even begin to make out the expression on Master’s face as he stared down at me.
Finally, he spoke again. “You’re gonna be reeeal good for me. Right, boi?” It took a few seconds for me to comprehend, but I wasted no time in frantically nodding my head — as much as I could with my head firmly held still in his hands, at least.
“Good boi.” He said as he let go of me. Immediately I hunched forward, gasping over and over for air. A reddened imprint of his fingers was left across my face, owing to the excessive amount of force he’d maintained for the entire ordeal. Looking down at his feet, I saw his shorts fall around his ankles, a crumpled heap resting over his shoes.
These were shortly followed by his white boxer-briefs. I instantly recoiled, a wall of stench punching me straight in the nose. Looking back up at him, an expression of utter disgust on my face, my jaw dropped at the sight looming above me.
Master’s cock was standing at attention right above me. If the smell emanating from his boxers was rancid, this was beyond description. I went lightheaded, utterly overwhelmed by the brutal assault on my nostrils, and recoiled back, but my head was already pressed back against the front of the dog crate.
“Now, princess, this is what a real man smells like.” I tried to open my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a retch. With every breath, my entire torso clenched down, my every instinct fighting to keel over and vomit.
As if the concentrated musk wasn’t enough, the sheer size of the shaft looming over me struck terror into my heart. It heavily bounced and swayed with the slightest twitch. I normally had no insecurities about my own endowment, but being met face-to-face with a veritable weapon of this sheer size… I’d never felt like less of a man in my life.
Suddenly, a giant hand slammed into the back of my head and forced me forward, cramming my face into Master’s crotch, his heavy sack pressed against my mouth. My nose was crushed against his groin, right next to the base of his cock.
“Hnnngh!” I couldn’t stop heaving and hacking at the unbelievable sharpness of his musk. I tried to hold my breath, my mouth glued shut. But the stench was still beyond what I could possibly hope to handle. The burning in my nostrils was intense, tears were welling up in my eyes.
“Now lick.” Master commanded, shoving my face even harder against his crotch. I tried — really. I gingerly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, dragging it along the underside of his weighty balls. I lasted less than a second before I broke out into a series of coughs and retches, retracting my tongue right back into my quivering mouth.
“Tsk tsk tsk… You want to be that way? Fine. I don’t have to be so gentle.” He spit out each word dripping with vitriol. He gripped my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to look up at him. He reached out with his other hand, gripping his filthy boxers. I apparently had failed to notice him kicking them off and picking them up. He turned them inside out, and I cringed at the sheer amount of built-up filth worked into the fabric. Much of the once-white fabric was now stained a dark, sickly yellow. It was soaked in sweat. Looking more closely, much of the inside was even caked in an unbelievably thick, wet, and spongy coating of old sweat and pure, concentrated filth.
For all we’d talked about using a sockgag, he’d never once brought up the idea of an underwear gag! I looked on in stark horror as he slowly brought the crumpled boxers closer to my face.
“N-no… please, w-wait, Master, I’ll be good!” I blubbered, failing to hold back yet more sobs. The smell was unbelievable, more reminiscent of vinegar and rotting cheese than even the worst body odors I had ever experienced before. Nonetheless, Master wasted no time in thrusting the cloth into my mouth. The room echoed with a cacophony of my muffled screams, cries, and retching as he forced more and more of the boxers into my helpless mouth.
My jaw was forced to open wider and wider, my tongue pressed flat against the base of my mouth. Tears freely streamed down my overstuffed cheeks as I was utterly overwhelmed by a mind-shattering deluge of sensory overload. My eyes rolled back and I went limp, save for my body’s repeated convulsions from constant heaving.
My jaw was stretched to its limit, yet more than half of the fabric was still outside of my mouth. Master used both hands to wrench my mouth open further and force even more of his rancid boxers into my mouth. Cotton tickled the back of my throat; every cubic centimeter of space in my mouth was occupied by the compressed boxers. By the time he was done, I couldn’t have spit out the boxers no matter how badly I wanted to. My tongue was utterly incapacitated, my jaw agonizingly overstretched. The waistband of the boxers was all that still stuck out of my tortured mouth.
“Hmmmph…” I weakly cried, nearly inaudible even to myself, as Master produced a roll of black gorilla tape — industrial-strength, extra-wide, terrifying tape. He pulled the end free and pressed it down against my cheek, then started wrapping it around my head. The screeching of the tape was deafening as he wrapped it around and around, completely engulfing the lower half of my face in the unyielding black material. The boxers compressed even further back into my mouth as my mouth was flattened under the immense pressure. The roll was significantly smaller, and my entire face from just below my nostrils to below my chin was entirely engulfed by the time Master was done.
I whimpered and moaned, finding it impossible to concentrate enough to even stay aware of what was happening outside of my abused mouth. The smell was one thing, but the taste was an entirely new realm of misery. My brain was fried by the tear-jerking overload of disgust.
But he wasn’t done yet. While I was stewing, out of my mind with misery, Master took off one of his enormous sneakers and opened it wide. Nothing more than a weak sob escaped me as I helplessly watched him bring the sneaker closer and closer to my face.
With my chin seated against the back of the shoe, its tongue was right in front of my eyes. His shoes were enormous! My entire face was engulfed.
Immediately, my entire body convulsed like a dying bug. “Hnnnng… Plllff… Hlfff mphhhh…” I cried, wailing into my gag. Next to no sound escaped the sneaker as Master begun wrapping tape around my head once more, securing the shoe firmly to my face. He wrapped the tape around my head an inordinate number of times, engulfing most of my head. With each pass, the shoe was shoved harder and harder against my face, until its spongy sole was pressed hard against my mouth and nose, with barely enough free space for me to breathe.
My lungs were on fire. Agony radiated from my mouth and nose in waves. I held my breath as long as I could, but my entire shivering body would convulse every time I inevitably had to draw in another gasping breath. My eyes were red and puffy; I couldn’t stop sobbing. And yet, my speedo felt tighter than ever. My cock throbbed as hard as it could crushed down nearly flat under the fabric. On top of all my writhing and convulsing, a weak shiver shot down my spine as my member was squeezed under the speedo, constantly stimulated by my inability to hold still.
“Heh… so you really are as depraved as you said, boi.” Master said as he grabbed me by my crotch, crushing my junk between his hand and my body. I somehow gathered the strength to cry out even louder than before as my balls were nearly flattened under his hand. And yet, through all the pains being inflicted on my broken body, I couldn’t ignore the tiny spark of pleasure that shot up my spine as he forced me to stand again.
“We’re gonna have lots of fun together, boi. But first, we have to finish tying you up.” I shuddered with a sickening mix of anticipation and fear; although, maybe that was just the utterly rancid musk assaulting my mouth and nose. My vision was occluded by the shoe in my face, my hearing muffled under numerous wraps of tape, but the sound of Master unlocking and opening the dog crate was unmistakable.
“Now get in the cage, bitch-boi.”
“Ready, boi?” Master’s gravelly voice penetrated the silence, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands rested heavily on my shoulders, firmly kneading them in a way that was more unsettling than comforting.
This was the culmination of months of talking and texting, constant blabbering about my every most depraved fantasy. I was bursting with excitement as I arrived at his front door and followed him without question to this spare bedroom at the back of his home only minutes ago.
But now, I was staring nervously at the scene in front of me. We were facing a cramped walk-in closet, a metal dog crate seated in the center of it. Deep breath. I wanted this… right?
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted as he slid his hands down my sides and pulled my shirt off over my head. I shuddered with my smooth, slim torso exposed to the air.
“Hahhh…” I breathily moaned as he slid his hands up my front and pulled me against him. My toes curled as the much taller, bulkier man pressed my body against his, my head nestled between his pecs.
“Oh, you sound plenty ready, boi…” Master abruptly took a step forward, shoving me along with him, and bent me over the front of the dog cage. I shivered as the cold metal bars lining its roof pressed against my skin. He reached over me and I felt a few coils of rope drop down onto my upper back.
“F-fuck…” I muttered under my breath, my mind swimming with nervousness, fear… and unbearable arousal. My wrists were grabbed and roughly yanked behind my back. The rough embrace of rope wrapped around and around my skinny wrists, with far more force than necessary. I lost count at about 8 passes, but he was still going, tighter and tighter.
“Hhhh… M-master? Does it need to be so tight?” He’d always insisted on being called ‘Master’ during our earlier talks. It hadn’t occurred to me until now that I didn’t actually know his real name.
He ignored me, continuing to loop the rope around my thoroughly bound wrists before he finally cinched and knotted it off with a grunt. As I twisted my hands about, I discovered my fingers couldn’t hope to reach the knot. It was painfully tight. I pressed my cheek against the dog cage and shifted around uncomfortably. I took a deep, shaky breath. Come on, I wanted this.
He repeated the process just above my elbows, drawing them closer and closer. A pained whimper escaped my throat as he forced them to meet, pressing my forearms together, cinching and knotting the ropes off.
I flexed my fingers, trying to power through the rather strong pain in my shoulders from being drawn so far back.
“C-come on…” I whimpered, betraying a hint of frustration as he looped rope around the front of my shoulders and behind my upper back, drawing my shoulders even further back. Knotting it off between my shoulder blades, my shoulders were wrenched back to their absolute limit, with my chest forcibly puffed forward. I gritted my teeth as the pain in my arms reached a new height.
I was at least somewhat distracted from the pain in my arms when Master yanked my pants off, leaving me in nothing but the too-small white speedo he’d instructed me to show up wearing. “Mmm, there’s that cute little ass.” he said, grabbing me with both hands. “That’s my ass now. Isn’t that right, boi?”
All I could hear was my blood rushing in my ears. I moaned softly, arching my back and leaning back into his hands. My cheeks were bright red, and my eyes rolled back a little.
“Heh…” Master smirked as he grinded forward, the growing bulge in his pants sliding up between my cheeks.
That evidently wasn’t the response he was looking for, though, because in an instant he nearly knocked me clean onto the floor with the force of the spank he brought down across my unsuspecting ass. “I said isn’t that right, boi?”
I cried out at the sudden pain. “I-I’m sorry! Master! Y-yes, that’s right…” My voice trailed off; I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. Without warning, he spanked me with his other hand just as hard.
Only this time, the force did knock me off the dog crate. The air was knocked out of my lungs as I slammed onto the ground. I breathlessly wheezed and gasped for air, curled up into a fetal position.
Master grabbed me by the upper arm and yanked me upright, standing facing him with the cage directly behind me. He leaned in close, and in a low, threatening tone, said “Your ass is mine.”
I silently nodded, petrified with fear. “What, nothing left to say? Good. Then you’re ready for your gag.”
My stomach dropped as I remembered the constant back-and-forth we’d shared on that particular topic: my gag. I’d spent the entire last two months egging him on about how I wanted… no, needed… the most musky socks he could produce. Talk is cheap, though. This was real.
He took his hand off my arm and grabbed the back of my head, clamping his other hand over my mouth. His hands were so huge, and his arms were so powerful, it felt like he was crushing my head. His hand covered everything from my chin to my nose in a sweaty, airtight seal.
“Oh, you’re gonna love what I’ve got in store for you. Wore ‘em to the gym every day, for two months. I’m even wearing them right now, just for you…” I looked up at him with pure terror in my eyes. My chest heaved uselessly as I desperately tried to breathe, my flight instinct fully taking over.
He held my head clamped between his hands, forcing me up onto my toes as he stared intensely into my eyes. I was seeing red. I tried to lurch from side to side, trying to break the seal for even a single tiny breath. But as the seconds dragged on, my struggles grew weaker and weaker. The corners of my vision were fading to black, and he steadily lowered me down as my legs weakened and gave out beneath me.
I sat with my legs folded and spread limply, looking up at him with tears running down my cheeks, when he finally shifted his finger to allow me to take the briefest half-second gasp of air through my nose. The darkness in the corners of my vision retreated somewhat, and the barest hint of strength in my legs returned.
“Plff…” Please, I cried, muffled to near-silence behind Master’s huge, sweaty hand. My chest heaved as I breathlessly sobbed, and the strength slowly drained from me again.
He shifted his finger again, allowing me one more short gasp, right as I was about to lose consciousness. He kept this up for what felt like an eternity, but couldn’t have been longer than half an hour. I was a wreck, my hair disheveled, completely soaked in a sheen of cold sweat. Between the tears filling my eyes, and the ever-present partial blackness, I couldn’t even begin to make out the expression on Master’s face as he stared down at me.
Finally, he spoke again. “You’re gonna be reeeal good for me. Right, boi?” It took a few seconds for me to comprehend, but I wasted no time in frantically nodding my head — as much as I could with my head firmly held still in his hands, at least.
“Good boi.” He said as he let go of me. Immediately I hunched forward, gasping over and over for air. A reddened imprint of his fingers was left across my face, owing to the excessive amount of force he’d maintained for the entire ordeal. Looking down at his feet, I saw his shorts fall around his ankles, a crumpled heap resting over his shoes.
These were shortly followed by his white boxer-briefs. I instantly recoiled, a wall of stench punching me straight in the nose. Looking back up at him, an expression of utter disgust on my face, my jaw dropped at the sight looming above me.
Master’s cock was standing at attention right above me. If the smell emanating from his boxers was rancid, this was beyond description. I went lightheaded, utterly overwhelmed by the brutal assault on my nostrils, and recoiled back, but my head was already pressed back against the front of the dog crate.
“Now, princess, this is what a real man smells like.” I tried to open my mouth to protest, but all that came out was a retch. With every breath, my entire torso clenched down, my every instinct fighting to keel over and vomit.
As if the concentrated musk wasn’t enough, the sheer size of the shaft looming over me struck terror into my heart. It heavily bounced and swayed with the slightest twitch. I normally had no insecurities about my own endowment, but being met face-to-face with a veritable weapon of this sheer size… I’d never felt like less of a man in my life.
Suddenly, a giant hand slammed into the back of my head and forced me forward, cramming my face into Master’s crotch, his heavy sack pressed against my mouth. My nose was crushed against his groin, right next to the base of his cock.
“Hnnngh!” I couldn’t stop heaving and hacking at the unbelievable sharpness of his musk. I tried to hold my breath, my mouth glued shut. But the stench was still beyond what I could possibly hope to handle. The burning in my nostrils was intense, tears were welling up in my eyes.
“Now lick.” Master commanded, shoving my face even harder against his crotch. I tried — really. I gingerly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, dragging it along the underside of his weighty balls. I lasted less than a second before I broke out into a series of coughs and retches, retracting my tongue right back into my quivering mouth.
“Tsk tsk tsk… You want to be that way? Fine. I don’t have to be so gentle.” He spit out each word dripping with vitriol. He gripped my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to look up at him. He reached out with his other hand, gripping his filthy boxers. I apparently had failed to notice him kicking them off and picking them up. He turned them inside out, and I cringed at the sheer amount of built-up filth worked into the fabric. Much of the once-white fabric was now stained a dark, sickly yellow. It was soaked in sweat. Looking more closely, much of the inside was even caked in an unbelievably thick, wet, and spongy coating of old sweat and pure, concentrated filth.
For all we’d talked about using a sockgag, he’d never once brought up the idea of an underwear gag! I looked on in stark horror as he slowly brought the crumpled boxers closer to my face.
“N-no… please, w-wait, Master, I’ll be good!” I blubbered, failing to hold back yet more sobs. The smell was unbelievable, more reminiscent of vinegar and rotting cheese than even the worst body odors I had ever experienced before. Nonetheless, Master wasted no time in thrusting the cloth into my mouth. The room echoed with a cacophony of my muffled screams, cries, and retching as he forced more and more of the boxers into my helpless mouth.
My jaw was forced to open wider and wider, my tongue pressed flat against the base of my mouth. Tears freely streamed down my overstuffed cheeks as I was utterly overwhelmed by a mind-shattering deluge of sensory overload. My eyes rolled back and I went limp, save for my body’s repeated convulsions from constant heaving.
My jaw was stretched to its limit, yet more than half of the fabric was still outside of my mouth. Master used both hands to wrench my mouth open further and force even more of his rancid boxers into my mouth. Cotton tickled the back of my throat; every cubic centimeter of space in my mouth was occupied by the compressed boxers. By the time he was done, I couldn’t have spit out the boxers no matter how badly I wanted to. My tongue was utterly incapacitated, my jaw agonizingly overstretched. The waistband of the boxers was all that still stuck out of my tortured mouth.
“Hmmmph…” I weakly cried, nearly inaudible even to myself, as Master produced a roll of black gorilla tape — industrial-strength, extra-wide, terrifying tape. He pulled the end free and pressed it down against my cheek, then started wrapping it around my head. The screeching of the tape was deafening as he wrapped it around and around, completely engulfing the lower half of my face in the unyielding black material. The boxers compressed even further back into my mouth as my mouth was flattened under the immense pressure. The roll was significantly smaller, and my entire face from just below my nostrils to below my chin was entirely engulfed by the time Master was done.
I whimpered and moaned, finding it impossible to concentrate enough to even stay aware of what was happening outside of my abused mouth. The smell was one thing, but the taste was an entirely new realm of misery. My brain was fried by the tear-jerking overload of disgust.
But he wasn’t done yet. While I was stewing, out of my mind with misery, Master took off one of his enormous sneakers and opened it wide. Nothing more than a weak sob escaped me as I helplessly watched him bring the sneaker closer and closer to my face.
With my chin seated against the back of the shoe, its tongue was right in front of my eyes. His shoes were enormous! My entire face was engulfed.
Immediately, my entire body convulsed like a dying bug. “Hnnnng… Plllff… Hlfff mphhhh…” I cried, wailing into my gag. Next to no sound escaped the sneaker as Master begun wrapping tape around my head once more, securing the shoe firmly to my face. He wrapped the tape around my head an inordinate number of times, engulfing most of my head. With each pass, the shoe was shoved harder and harder against my face, until its spongy sole was pressed hard against my mouth and nose, with barely enough free space for me to breathe.
My lungs were on fire. Agony radiated from my mouth and nose in waves. I held my breath as long as I could, but my entire shivering body would convulse every time I inevitably had to draw in another gasping breath. My eyes were red and puffy; I couldn’t stop sobbing. And yet, my speedo felt tighter than ever. My cock throbbed as hard as it could crushed down nearly flat under the fabric. On top of all my writhing and convulsing, a weak shiver shot down my spine as my member was squeezed under the speedo, constantly stimulated by my inability to hold still.
“Heh… so you really are as depraved as you said, boi.” Master said as he grabbed me by my crotch, crushing my junk between his hand and my body. I somehow gathered the strength to cry out even louder than before as my balls were nearly flattened under his hand. And yet, through all the pains being inflicted on my broken body, I couldn’t ignore the tiny spark of pleasure that shot up my spine as he forced me to stand again.
“We’re gonna have lots of fun together, boi. But first, we have to finish tying you up.” I shuddered with a sickening mix of anticipation and fear; although, maybe that was just the utterly rancid musk assaulting my mouth and nose. My vision was occluded by the shoe in my face, my hearing muffled under numerous wraps of tape, but the sound of Master unlocking and opening the dog crate was unmistakable.
“Now get in the cage, bitch-boi.”