"Absolutely, sweetheart," he purrs, pleased and aroused, and then steps away, wrapping Monty's wrists and ankles in the sturdy, padded cuffs and forces them spread-eagle on the bed, utterly exposed and helpless. They look utterly debauched already. The loose, low-cut neckline of the dress is already pulled even lower, revealing the clamps pinched tight around their prominent nipples, their breasts straining with milk, the material already damply translucent. The uneven hem is hiked up around their hips, splayed wide on the bed, allowing Justin to see the cruel metal chastity device that is still there, hiding everything between their legs - their utterly clean and hairless pussy, the dusky furl of their ass, the miraculous jut of their little cock, a pleasurable impossibility for Justin to savor and enjoy.

"I can't wait to pump your pretty pussy lips," he says, as he curls his fingers over the body-warmed metal, teasing over the lock, making it ring like a tiny bell. He swears he can practically feel how hot and swollen Monty is already, practically pulsing already under the mere implication of his touch. "I want to see how full and pumped you can get for me, sweetheart. You want my cock, don't you? Think about how it'll feel, when your pussy lips are swollen and sensitive, when you're stretched around me and feeling every inch of me inside you."

"If only you weren't still locked up for me," he croons, an almost devious smirk on his face as his thumbs trace the edges of the metal, scraping lightly against the soft skin of Monty's inner thighs, restrained and spread wide on the bed. "I should let you out, shouldn't I?"