Neil Abbott looked up at the bench, and all nine of the Supreme Court Justices gazing expectantly back. It was time for him to deliver the opening statements for the case that would define not just his legal career, but also the future of the rights of millions of Americans, and the color and tone of the administration that had been sworn in just a scant few months ago.

The wooden chair creaked as Neil pushed it back and rose to his feet. The hushed conversation in the gallery fell deathly silent. Every eye in the room was trained on Neil, and yet he felt strangely at peace as he looked each of the justices in turn.

This was probably going to be the most important case of the current presidency, and likely the most important case Neil would ever have the pleasure of arguing. The stakes were high, and they concerned him on a personal level, too.

The case had been months in the making. The battle lines had been drawn well before the elections, and they very clearly followed the party line. From the moment expert opinion mentioned the possibility of a challenge to the status quo, Neil and his team had been preparing in case the possibility became an inevitability, as it did.

Although the case was relatively new, the showdown was anything but. The case was simply the pinnacle, the climax, of a battle that had been raging for years. Neil had no reason to think that the opposition was any less prepared than he was. Opposing counsel had had months to build their case, if not longer, and multiple failures in the lower courts had helped them hone their arguments into a fine and potentially-lethal point.

Decades of progress with regard to human rights and dignity hinged on Neil and his team making a persuasive and watertight case to the split court as the political will to cement into law the previous ruling, that the opposition was seeking to overturn, had not materialized. Neil took a deep breath. In mere moments, he would become a part of history, not just another face watching it happen from the sidelines.

Neil picked up a small sheaf of papers in front of him, a meticulously crafted guide on what to say. He looked over at opposing counsel. He looked at the judges. He took yet another deep breath and said, "Mr. Chief Justice, and may it please the Court: that is all."

The silence that greeted Neil’s words was deafening. Even the justices seemed dumbstruck by what he’d just said. A small wet spot was forming in the front of his pants, but no one seemed to notice.

Seeing as the justices seemed to have no questions for him, Neil made a move to sit down. It was as if movement was the trigger for the pandemonium that followed. It took a moment for the gallery to settle down. "What… What do you mean that is all?" said the Chief Justice. "Are you telling me that you won’t present any arguments?"

"Yes, your honor," said Neil. "I’m aware this is very unorthodox as regards this Court, but my co-counsel and I have come to the conclusion that the best argument for our position is no argument at all."

---

Ever since he decided to take on this case, life had become a long series of one stressor after another, and Neil needed a break from it all. Luckily, today proved to be a slow day with not much of anything happening and he could justify taking an hour off preparing to face the Supreme Court. The court date wasn’t for another month yet, anyway.

Not much was open at the late hour other than bars and clubs, and Neil didn’t really want to go too far from the office. He settled for the nearest location and ordered something with a nice kick that would let him, at least momentarily, forget his problems.

Neil hadn’t gone to a gay bar, and thus wasn’t expecting much, if any attention, from the clientele. He was pleasantly surprised when a handsome man, about his age, wearing a nice tank top under a leather jacket that complemented his handsome, angular jaw, came up to him at the bar.

"Hey handsome," said the guy, leaning on the counter just beside Neil. He didn’t even bother to take a seat. He glanced at the drink that Neil was currently nursing. "You look like you could use a little bit of fun tonight. Think I might be able to help?"

Neil chuckled. He had to admit, the guy was pretty attractive. If the offer was genuine, which he hoped it was, he wasn’t going to complain. He hadn’t been laid in a while—nor had he had the time to even jerk off.

"I think you might," said Neil. He knocked back the last of his drink and held out a hand to the guy. "Neil," he said. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Good to meet you too, handsome," said the guy. "Name’s Dale. What say you I buy us another round and then we head to my place? It’s pretty close by."

Neil briefly considered it. It wasn’t like he had never hooked up before, he just had more experience being in a committed relationship. Not that he’d been in one for a while, now. "Ah, what the hell?" he said. "Sure, why not?" There wasn’t anything else he had to do until tomorrow.

Dale turned to the bartender and said, "Give us something fun to drink." He smiled at Neil as he took the seat next to him. His smile was adorable. The way his cheek dimpled as the corners of his lips turned up made Neil’s heart skip a beat.

When the drinks arrived, Neil noticed straight away that they were stronger than he preferred. He didn’t feel like turning them down and appearing rude, though, so he picked up his glass, made a toast with Dale, and took a sip.

---

"Are you sure that’s what you want to do, Mr. Abbott?" said the Chief Justice. Contrary to the Court’s normal procedure, some of the justices seated on the bench were conversing with one another, probably discussing how to approach the unconventional "defense" that Neil had presented.

Neil looked at his co-counsel. They were shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unable to meet his eyes. They also had wet spots in their pants that were, fortunately, largely hidden from view. "Yes, Mr. Chief Justice," said Neil. "We are absolutely certain."

There was a faint buzzing sound coming coming from around the defendants’ table. The noise was quiet—so quiet, in fact, that Neil didn’t even notice it until he sat down. They were fortunate that the chairs had cushions and weren’t made of bare wood, otherwise the noise would have been much louder.

"Mr. Abbott, you do realize that if you refuse to argue your case before this court, the only arguments we will be able to deliberate are the appellant’s," said the Chief Justice. "With that in mind, do you still wish to end your arguments there?"

Neil stood out of respect though he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last given the increasingly intense buzzing that he felt inside him. "Yes, your honor. We understand your concerns, but this is the strategy that we think is best for us," he said. He promptly sat down again, stifling the moan that was threatening to escape.

The Chief Justice shook his head. "Alright. Thank you, counsel, I suppose." He turned his attention to opposing counsel and said, "Mr. Stewart, you have seven minutes remaining. Given that the defense didn’t leave much for you to rebut, I’ll let you use your time to make a few more remarks if you’d like and then we’ll end it there."

---

Neil was buzzed. He could scarcely stand on his own two feet when he and Dale burst through the front door of Dale’s cozy little apartment. Luckily, he didn’t have to stand, because Dale pinned him up against the wall as soon as they were inside and treated him to the hottest make-out session of his entire life.

When they parted, Neil felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him. He wasn’t just buzzed, he was dazed and unabashedly horny.

"Hey," said Dale, holding Neil up by the waist. "I don’t know how kinky you are, but I’ve always wanted to fuck a guy in chastity. Do you think you might be into that?" he said.

Neil had never really given kink much thought. Being a lawyer he had very little time to explore his sexuality, much less participate in any actual kink. But Dale looked so hopeful that he didn’t think he could refuse. "You know what? Tonight’s a night for new things," he said. "Why don’t I give it a shot?"

"Awesome," said Dale. Neil stripped off his jacket, which fell to the floor as Dale leaned in and kissed him again. Dale’s fingers made quick work of his dress shirt and pulled his tie loose. Without parting, Dale slid the shirt off Neil’s torso and pulled the tie off his neck. "I swear you won’t regret it," said Dale, breaking the kiss for a much-needed breath.

As they kissed for the third time, Dale undid the buckle of Neil’s belt, slid it out of the loops, and unhooked the waist of his slacks. His fingers lingered momentarily just above the outline of Neil’s erection before he pulled the fly down and worked both the pants and the underwear down Neil’s legs.

Neil stepped out of his shoes and out of his pants which Dale tossed to the side, leaving him naked in only his socks. His cock was so hard he wondered how Dale would ever get it into a cage, but he imagined Dale had a plan for that.

"This will make it more exciting," said Dale. Before Neil knew what was going on, his world went dark. Dale used his tie as a blindfold, knotting it tightly against the side of his head so that there was no chance of it slipping.

This was a lot kinkier than Neil was accustomed to, but he liked it. Normally he was a top, but there was just something about Dale’s can-do, take-charge attitude and easy confidence that brought out the submissive inside of him. Before he could really think of what he was doing, he found himself just going along with what Dale was telling him to do.

Neil followed Dale into the living room, or at least what he imagined was the living room. Dale gently lowered him onto a couch and then disappeared for a moment.

When Dale returned, Neil felt the cushion of the couch dip beside him. "This might be a little uncomfortable, but I promise it’s going to feel so good later." Before Neil could really ask what was going to be uncomfortable, he felt it: a bag of ice right on top of his hard cock.

The cold was enough of a shock that Neil felt like he was going to jump out of his own skin. To say that it had the desired effect of softening his cock up was a bit of an understatement. It did that and more, forcing it to retract quite possibly a few inches back into his body.

"Get up," said Dale with a tap on Neil’s ass. Neil followed the command without a second thought. "Turn toward me," said Dale. Neil did as he was told. Following Dale’s commands was like second nature, all of a sudden. It was weird, but it was also strangely arousing.

Dale gently pulled Neil’s balls one after the other through a cool metal ring. "Are you sure you want to do this for me?" said Dale.

Had he been a bit more clear-minded, Neil might have said no but he was buzzed and dazed and horny and had just discovered a hitherto-unknown submissive part of himself. "Yes, I’m sure," he said, standing there as the cold metal bars of the chastity cage were fit snugly around his softened cock. He stood there, his cock slowly filling with blood as it warmed, and waited until the lock had clicked shut.

Neil flinched when he felt Dale’s hands on his shoulders. "Get on your knees on the couch," said Dale. His body practically vibrating with anticipation, Neil did as he was told. He didn’t fight when Neil gently bent him over the back of the couch.

Dale poured something cold and slippery on Neil’s back. Neil’s hole twitched as it dripped down his back, brushing against his sensitive virgin pucker. Dale rubbed a finger up Neil’s ass crack and gently swirled it around Neil’s quivering hole, slicking it up with the lube.

Dale teased Neil for a few minutes like that. By the time that Dale gently pressed his finger against the center of Neil’s tight bud, Neil’s cock was already straining in its cage. Neil let out a little gasp as the pressure applied by Dale’s finger overcame his sphincter and pushed inside him, dragging some lube along with it.

Slowly at first, but gradually increasing the pace, Dale fucked his finger in and out of Neil’s tight hole. He dribbled a little more lube on top of his finger for good measure before introducing a second finger once he was satisfied that Neil had been stretched enough.

Neil moaned. His hole burned around Dale’s fingers. He’d never had more than a single finger up there before, and two made him feel weird. At first, Dale moved them together, fucking them in and out of Neil’s hole as a single unit. Eventually, though, Dale started moving them separately, moving them apart and then together to stretch his hole even more.

Neil wasn’t used to the sensation. It was so intense but it wasn’t at all unpleasant. His cock dribbled pre-cum onto the couch between his legs hut he couldn’t find the words to apologize.

A quiet grunt was all that Neil managed when a third finger slipped into him all the way to the knuckle. He was glad that Dale was taking his time because he wasn’t sure he would have been able to handle a real cock without any preparation.

The fourth finger never came. Just when Neil felt like his hole had been worked to its limit, Dale pulled out of him entirely. He had only a moment’s reprieve before he felt something hot, hard, and blunt pressing up against his hole. Not being able to see only served to intensify the sensation and the anxiety that came with it.

Before Neil could say anything, Dale thrust his hips forward. The sharp pain was brief, lasting for all of a blink of an eye before Dale’s cock head popped into Neil. The dull pain, the burn of his hole being stretched wide open around Dale’s girth, was what lingered.

Neil groaned, feeling as if he were being stuffed to the brim as inch after inch after inch of Dale’s prodigious cock slid into him. It was larger than he had imagined, and the sheer size of it made him feel like he was going to split in half.

When Dale started moving, Neil’s legs turned to jelly. Only Dale’s grip on his hips kept him in his position as the intense feeling of being fucked for the first time in his life coursed through his body.

Neil’s high-pitched moaning quickly turned into brief grunts as Dale’s fucking picked up speed and force. Every slap of Dale’s hips against his jerked Neil forward, and made his cock in its little cage swing back and forth between his legs. It was nothing like Neil had ever felt before and it was amazing.

All the pain that Neil had felt before, at his hole being stretched beyond what it was used to, faded into exquisite pleasure. Every thrust brought another surge of orgasmic bliss throughout his body, driving him ever closer to that edge but never quite over it.

Neil would have reached for his cock to stroke himself to completion but he knew that it was a fool’s errand. In any case, the feeling of his cock impotently swelling and straining against the bars of its cage only served to intensify the sensations that were coursing through him.

With a loud growl and a few particularly vicious thrusts, Dale slid his cock as far up Neil’s asshole as he could and came. Neil faintly felt the shots of cum splattering his insides, but his whole body felt all numb and tingly from the vigorous pounding that he’d just received.

Neil heard a wet slurp as Dale pulled out of him. Then, he heard the rustling of cloth as well as a few grunts as, presumably, Dale cleaned off his dick. "T-That was amazing," Neil murmured, as he felt Dale’s cum trickling down the inside of his thighs. "Should I keep the blindfold on?"

"Yeah. We’re not done yet," said Dale. Neil’s fingers fumbled around something rectangular that Dale pushed into his hands. "Here’s your phone. I don’t want to leave it with your clothes in case I accidentally step on it somehow." Neil smiled. That was thoughtful.

As soon as he was able to stand on his own two legs again, Neil pushed up off the couch. "Here, let me guide you to the bedroom," said Dale. The two of them walked for a little bit, though since he was still a bit woozy, Neil wasn’t really able to follow where they went.

Neil heard the sound of a door opening. "Go through," said Dale. Neil did as he was told, eager to get fucked some more by Dale’s magnificent cock. A moment later, he heard the door close behind him.

Neil waited for a good minute before he realized that Dale wasn’t with him. "Dale?" he said. When he got no response, his heart sank. He pulled the blindfold off his face and squinted in the light. He was outside. In the hallway. Naked. "W-What the hell?!" he said. He turned around and tried the door, but it was locked.

"Dale, let me in!" he said, thumping his fist on the door. At that moment, his phone rang. He didn’t remember putting Dale’s number in, but there it was. "Dale, what the fuck? You can’t do this to me. Let me in! What if someone sees me?"

"Well, then, I guess you should be quiet if you don’t want to wake the neighbors," said Dale. "I can’t fucking believe you fell for that. That’s fucking hilarious. Guess they were right. Fags will believe anything you tell them if they’re horny." Dale laughed so hard he snorted.

"Oh yeah, if it wasn’t already obvious, I’m not a fag like you," said Dale. His tone of voice was filled with derision and yet, surprisingly, it only made Neil’s cock strain more in its cage. "I’m straight and I’m conservative. I just like to fuck with faggots."

"W-What about the cage?" said Neil. It was the only thing that he could think to say as he leaned his forehead against the door. Part of him hoped that Dale would open the door and tell him that locking him out was just a joke, but he realized that the seduction, the caging, and the fucking had been the joke the whole time.

"Yeah? What about it, fag?" said Dale. "Why don’t you come back next week, kneel in front of me, admit that straight guys are better than fags, and I’ll think about unlocking your cock?"

Neil’s eyes widened. "But—!" Before he could get another word in, Dale hung up. The realization that he’d just handed over the keys to his sex life to a man who was, in some ways, everything he’d been fighting for his entire career, was too much. Neil shuddered, his cheeks burning with shame as the familiar sensation of an orgasm rose up inside of him.

Neil’s toes curled against the floor. He balled his fingers into fists as his back arched. His cock swelled and strained and throbbed pathetically against the bars of its cage and with a loud grunt he came, splattering the floor and the bottom part of Dale’s door with cum.

As his cock deflated and as he tried to catch his breath, Neil received a message on his phone from Dale. "You better not leave a mess out there, faggot, or I might just decide to throw the key away entirely. I don’t care that you don’t have anything to clean it up. Lap it up like a dog if you have to."

Neil moaned. It was so wrong to be turned on by the verbal abuse, the degradation, and yet it made his cock rock hard again. Well, at least as hard as it could get in its cramped cage. He lowered himself to the floor and tentatively stuck his tongue out at the first pool of pearly semen that he’d splattered all over the floor.

---

Neil stood alone on the front steps of the Supreme Court in front of the gathered media, the rest of his team having slinked off to avoid the spotlight.

"It was a very bold move on the part of the defense to present no arguments to the Court today," said a reporter from a local network. "can you provide any details as to why you and your team decided to use this strategy for arguably the most important case of the decade?"

Neil swallowed and took a deep breath. The buzzing had only increased in intensity since leaving the court and showed no signs of abating. He was just glad that in the crush of reporters and the absolute chaos of it all, no one had noticed the sound.

"As I said before, my team and I considered many different approaches when it came to this case. Sure, we could have presented compelling arguments to the Court that could have made our case stronger but the fact of the matter is, this isn’t even a question that should be up for debate," said Neil.

"Gay people have hopes, dreams, and ambitions just like everyone else. We fall in love like everyone else. Why shouldn’t we be able to get married like everyone else?" said Neil. "This matter should already be settled, but there are those who will stop at nothing to spread their hate."

"My team and I came to the conclusion that the most powerful statement we could make was no statement at all," said Neil. "Because if the highest court of justice in the land can’t see how unjust it is to take away the right to marry from a group of people who aren’t doing any harm to anyone else, then maybe the system is broken on such a fundamental level that no amount of argument will guarantee that the right thing will be done."

Another reporter jumped in. "Are you saying, Mr. Abbott, that you want the Supreme Court Justices to make a judgment in support of the fundamental right to marry of two consenting adults, regardless of gender or orientation, without having to be persuaded to do so?"

"Yes," said Neil. "That is exactly it. The Court has a unique opportunity to stand on the right side of history with this case. Why should we have to beg and scrape to be recognized as equal citizens to everyone else just because a small group of people with very hot—I mean, oppressive—very oppressive views are making a fuss?"

"I’ll take one more question," said Neil, pointing at a young man whose credentials he couldn’t quite make out.

"Are you sure you weren’t just so scared that you couldn’t think of anything to say?" said the young man. A ripple of laughter made its way through the gathered reporters.

"W-Why do you say that?" said Neil, his composure shaken by the rather crass comment from a member of the press. The young man had a pen in his hand and answered by way of pointing it toward the wet spot in the front of Neil’s pants that had grown considerably since the beginning of oral arguments.

"O-Oh," said Neil. He laughed, nervously. "Ignore that," he said, swinging his briefcase in front of his crotch, wincing as it forced the cage around his cock to pinch his balls. "I just accidentally spilled some water on myself. Anyway, that’s all I have to say on the matter. Thank you. I hope the Supreme Court considers the morality of denying people their rights when they deliberate this case."

The sea of reporters parted as Neil walked down the steps. There was a limo waiting for him on the street, most likely being driven by a chauffer who didn’t even bother getting out to open the door for Neil.

Neil let himself in and sat down as the limo gently pulled away from the curb. He slipped off his jacket and pulled off his tie as he stepped out of his shoes.

As the limo picked up speed, Neil stripped off his shirt and removed is pants. Once he was fully naked, he slid onto the floor of the limo. As quickly as he could, he folded all his clothes and set them on a neat pile on the seat he’d briefly occupied.

Without speaking a single word, Neil shuffled over to kneel in front of the only other person in the limo. He kept his head down, as he’d been trained to do over the last month. "That was a good performance, fag," said the now-familiar voice of Dale. "I think you deserve a bit of a reward."

Neil licked his lips, already salivating as he heard the sound of Dale pulling down his zipper. "Come get your reward, fag," said Dale as his hard cock sprang out of his underwear. Neil shuffled forward and swallowed it all the way to the root as he was supposed to, and before long he felt the warm jet of piss hitting the back of his throat and slowly filling his stomach.

---

Neil couldn’t focus on preparing for the case. The metal cage weighing down on his cock was a constant reminder of his failure and his humiliation. It was impossible to ignore, and every time he noticed it because he sat down wrong or tugged on his pants the wrong way, he remembered the utterly degrading naked walk home and the shameful, pathetic way that he’d cum all over himself the moment he walked through his own door. If not for the fact that he’d been locked out of his apartment enough times to hide a spare key, Neil would have ended up having to sleep in the hallway just outside while waiting for someone to come by and let him in.

For a week now, Neil had struggled and failed to keep his focus on the case. The only reason it wasn’t dead in the water was because his team formed probably the most formidable group of gay lawyers this side of the country, and they were more than able to pick up the slack.

Disgusted with himself, and as hard as he could be in his cage, Neil grunted and excused himself. He tried not to look too grumpy as he made his way to the washroom to lock himself in one of the stalls.

Sitting down on the toilet seat, Neil pulled his pants down. He looked at his cock, cradled his tender, full balls with his fingers. He’d spent an entire week without cumming before but somehow the cage made the horniness so much more intense. Probably because it thwarted any of his cock’s attempts to even get half-hard.

Neil could hardly even call it his cock anymore. Every time he looked at it, that small metal plate stared back at him. Engraved on it were the words "Conservative property. Do not touch." The shameful thing was, just looking at those words made his cock strain.

Neil looked at his phone again, at the text that he’d received from Dale that morning reminding him that it had been a week, and telling him what he needed to do if he wanted to ever be unlocked again. He refused to do it. He knew he shouldn’t, for the4 sake of his dignity as a man.

But there was a part of Neil, a steadily growing voice in the back of his head, that wanted him to go and do exactly what the superior straight main was telling him to do because it was what he wanted, and the true purpose that he served in life.

It was wrong. So wrong. And yet, repeatedly, over the last seven days, Neil had been drawn to the idea that straight men were superior. There was nothing he could hope to gain from porn, but he watched it anyway, especially porn where fags were degraded for the pleasure of a superior man.

If he watched one where the superior was vicious enough, whose insults landed close to home, Neil got the momentary relief of feeling a weak stream of cum dribble out of his locked cock. He never even touched it. Like the plate said, it wasn’t his property anymore, and he wasn’t allowed to touch it without permission.

Neil shook his head. He needed to get a grip. He was a lawyer, a dignified gay man with a successful career. He wouldn’t let some dickwad like Dale order him around anymore.

Pulling his pants back on, Neil resolved to go to Dale’s place and give the guy a piece of his mind. He wasn’t going to get bullied anymore, and he was going to use his knowledge of the law to set things right. He hoped he would be able to compel Dale to unlock him with the threat of a lawsuit or even charges.

About half an hour later, Neil stormed up the stairs to Dale’s floor. He needed the time to think about what he was going to say, about how to frame his threats.

Neil had spent a fortune at law school and had emerged near the top of his class. He was a damn good lawyer, and he was confident that he could get Dale to play along to his tune. At least, he was when he entered the stairwell on the first floor. He was a shaking mess by the time he entered the hallway that he’d walked naked a week ago.

All the strength and willpower that Neil had mustered deserted him by the time that he stood in front of Dale’s door. He knocked, softly in the hope that Dale wouldn’t hear it, but the door opened anyway.

"Hey. Look what the cat dragged in," said Dale. "Welcome back, fag. Guys like you never could resist superior, straight, conservative cock. Strip as soon as you come in. Let’s not pretend that you don’t want to be here when the bulge in your pants makes it pretty clear that you do."

The resolve that Neil had stormed through the lobby of the building with crumbled in moments once he crossed the threshold into Dale’s apartment. Without even thinking twice he did as he was told and stripped. The door was open behind him and stayed so until Dale commanded him to close it.

"Follow me to the living room, fag," said Dale. Quietly, meekly, Neil followed Dale. Dale sat on the couch, legs spread, arms draped over the backrest. Dale pointed at the ground between his legs and said, "Come here fag. If we’re going to talk properly, you need to be in your proper place."

Neil took a step forward, but Dale clucked his tongue. "Do you really dare presume to walk around this house like a real man?" said Dale, the corner of his mouth twisting into a lopsided smirk. "Crawl like you’re supposed to, fag."

Neil lowered himself to the ground and crept on his hands and knees toward the spot that Dale had pointed. He knelt there and kept his head bowed, face burning with humiliation but cock straining and leaking with arousal at being treated like dirt.

"Is there anything you want to say, faggot?" said Dale. The disdain with which he emphasized the word "faggot" sent a shiver of pleasure right down Neil’s spine. His cock twitched and released a glob of pre-cum that dripped to the floor.

"S-Straight guys are better than fags," Neil murmured.

"What was that?" said Dale. He placed his feet between Neil’s legs and cradled Neil’s swollen, full balls with his toes. "I didn’t hear what you said. Are you sure that you want to be unlocked? Maybe you want to keep your cock in this cage for the rest of your life…"

"Straight guys are better than fags!" Neil blurted out, a milky white pearl beading at the tip of his cock as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Straight guys are better than fags, Sir! Please unlock my cock!" he begged.

"I promised I would think about it," said Dale. He pursed his lips together, crossed his arms, and tapped a finger on his lips. "I’ve thought about it, and my thoughts are, basically, not a chance." Neil whimpered. "But I have another offer."

"Throw the Supreme Court case," said Dale. "Make sure the right thing happens and fag marriage is revoked. If you can do that, I’ll give you the key so that you can remove that brass lock. Then, I’ll replace it with a stainless steel one, snap the key off in the lock, and make sure it can never be taken off again."

Neil’s cock throbbed. "I-I can’t," he said. Even though he wanted to. Even though it was wrong on so many levels and a betrayal of the principles he’d spent his whole life fighting for. He wanted to, but he couldn’t, despite the increasingly loud voice in his head telling him that fags like him didn’t deserve rights and deserved to be pushed down by their straight superiors.

"Why not?" said Dale. "It looks like this pathetic little clit of yours is ready to blow at the thought of being the fag that made sure fags lost the ‘right’ to marry."

"M-My team, Sir," Neil stammered. Even as head counsel, he could only do so much. Unless the rest of the team was onboard, he would just get replaced. Even if it was wrong he wanted to do what Dale was asking him to. He just couldn’t. Not in any reasonable way.

"Don’t worry about that," said Dale. He patted Neil on the top of the head, like he would have a dog. "Don’t you think it’s about time you introduced me to your team? All you libfags are the same, anyway. You can’t resist the temptation of a superior straight, conservative man’s cock."

---

It had been two weeks since oral arguments were heard on the MacDonald v. Ayers case. Neil had no idea how things had played out after that day. He was a house fag, now, reduced to doing chores and servicing his master in order to waste his potential like a fag was supposed to.

Later that evening, as Dale was using him like a glorified fleshlight, Neil finally heard the first update he’d had about the case. "The Court ruled unanimously against you," said Dale. "They overruled Hodges v. Obergefell. The boys on the hill are working on making that retroactive so that none of the fag marriages that happened ever since will remain valid."

Neil moaned, his cock straining in its cage. He could already imagine the outcry, the claims of oppression, and it only made him hotter. It was a horrible, terrible, frightening thing but it was so fucking hot, too.

"This is just the start, fag," said Dale. "It’s fag marriage today, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? Maybe mandatory fag registration and mandatory permanent chastity for fags. What do you think? Are you looking forward to the day we make this country right again?"

Neil whimpered. He could feel the orgasm coming on, especially if Dale kept fucking him the way he was. His prostate was taking a pounding and he didn’t know how long he could hold on to his weak, pathetic fag load.

"Anyway, since you did what I asked, I’ll fulfill my end of the deal," said Dale. He pulled Neil off him, and retrieved a small box. Inside was an integrated lock like the brass one currently in Neil’s cage, a set of keys, and a tube of what looked like liquid weld.

Dale produced the key to Neil’s cage from around his neck and gave it to Neil. Neil accepted it with trembling fingers. "Unlock it now," said Dale. Neil did as he was told and returned the key and the lock to Dale.

Dale grinned and handed Neil the stainless steel lock and its key. "Now put this in," he said. Neil shivered. Once he did this, there was no going back. He realized, he didn’t Want to go back. He slid the lock into place and turned the cylinder. "Snap the key," said Dale.

Neil kept turning the key and wiggling it back and forth until he heard a snap and the wide, flat part of the key came away in his hand. He whimpered, his cock spurting thick ropes of cum without being touched. "Now weld it permanently shut," said Dale, handing Neil the tube.

Neil uncapped the tube and made sure that the epoxy inside was right at the applicator tip. "Before you do that," said Dale, "I want you to look into the camera and say who you are, what you are, what you’re doing, and why you’re doing it."

Neil gulped audibly. He looked at Dale’s phone camera and said, "I used to be called Neil Atwood, esquire. Now, Master calls me Faggot. I used to be a lawyer, but the truth is I’ve always been a faggot." Neil squeezed the tube, pushing the epoxy into the lock. "I’m locking my faggot clit permanently because it’s a distraction from my true purpose, which is to serve superior straight conservative men."

As he spoke those words, Neil felt another orgasm coming. Dale laughed behind the camera and pointed it at his little fagclit straining against the bars of the cage. Every last shot of Neil’s liquid shame was caught on video and had been spread through the internet and some of the news networks by the next morning.