Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/23165714/

Trapa stared at the gibbet for a long time as it swung on it’s chain from the ceiling. He had worked at the museum for only two days when he had found the abandoned medieval section and ever since had always wondered why this section had been shut down.

For the civet it was clearly the most intriguing part of the museum and he got stiff at the idea of being trapped in the device. He had always been into bondage and the whole device gave him mixed feelings. He understood that this was a recreation of a device that would have been tortuous and unpleasant to it’s victims and he never wanted to disrespect that or it’s victims, but at the same time, the idea of being in a body size cage, helpless had him transfixed.

He knew this must have been a recreation, although a good one, no where in the history books did it ever talk about a cock cage for the victims. As such, he felt like it was perfectly okay to lust over this recreation. It had never truly taken a life. It had never been built to be the devices of torture from the past.

Tonight, he had everything arranged. He had set up his camera, and prepared everything. The night staff had gone home, this section had been locked up and the security guards would not bother coming. He was going to have all night to play, and enjoy feeling the gibbet for the first time.

He carefully unlocked the locks, and hung the key from a string. The key would be his safe release. He tries to reach the string, but it was much too long. He cut the string in half and tried it again. This time the key was the perfect length. Long enough to reach it when he wanted out.

He was so stiff now, he could paw off and not even have to get into the thing, but he knew that he would be unhappy. He had studied the gibbet several times. He knew that he had to put his head into the cage, and close the back half of the head. Then he would close the body, and a single lock would ensure that none of the catches came free.

With care he put his muzzle into the ring. He knew that the muzzle was built into the gibbet, but he had no idea how tight it would force his mouth closed. As he had closed the back half of the head cage, it forced his muzzle even further forward that he was comfortable with, and his teeth were absolutly touching together firmly by the time he had the head cage properly closed. There would be no talking, yelling for help, or begging of any captor putting him in this. It made him relentlessly horny,and his cock bumped up against the cock cage.

He reached down, and carefully adjusted himself into the torturous cage. He felt the back half of the gibbet swing closed and he reached up and looped the lock through it’s hasp and clicked it shut. This was the moment he was waiting for. He closed his eyes, he felt the raging hard on build. He was trapped in this devious device and no one would let him free. He pulled at the metal bars, he pushed with all his might trying to force the cage open and nothing helped.

He really got into it, imagining a captor, imaging a Lioness come to torture him. He was so horny he needed to get off, and he reached down to rub his cock and the cock cage did it’s devious job. He tried, he needed to get off, and he poked a finger but his paw pads couldn’t help him. He tried to put a claw through the bars of the cock cage, and immediately knew that that wasn’t going to help him. He moaned and tried to scream his frustrations but his muzzle was still held shut.

He needed to get off, and it was time to get out of the cage. He was so horny and desperate. He finally opened his eyes, and looked to grab the key, but it wasn’t there. The key was gone. He looked down at the floor, and his gut twisted. There on the floor was the end of the string, He couldn’t twist his head or lower his muzzle to look closer, but sure enough, the string… on the floor. The key had fallen and he was well and truly trapped.

He instantly came despite the cage, and he moaned behind his gag as he realized his utter helplessness. He spent the next hour clawing, pulling prying, anything he could do to get the lock open, to get out of the cage. Despite everything he tried, none of it worked. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for his co-worker dough to come find him, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. He was sure that dough would make sure to use the rear-access to his advantage when he did find him.

What he didn’t know, is that while he had been struggling, the ring on top had simply shifted, he had rotated away from where the key had been hung, it was still well within reach, but simply behind his head, out of view. And one the floor, the string that he had cut earlier when he had hung the key. His fantasies and desire to be trapped clouding his logical thinking, preventing him from realizing freedom was simply within reach.

Dough did find the civet the next morning, and even would eventually tell him where the key was, where it had always been, but not until after he had made use of the civet, and had taken several pictures to ensure that the civet would be returning to try the other devices in the museum.