Disclaimer: the following story is a purely fictional account. Any relationship to any real person living or dead is coincidental. The narrative contains consensual male-on-male sex and bondage. It is intended for mature readers who wish to view such material, and for whom it is legal to do so. Unlike most of my stories, for this one I can honestly and enthusiastically say: the author wholeheartedly supports and promotes the acts depicted in this story in real life!
Copyright © 2019 by POW. For spam prevention, an animal name has been added to the author’s e-mail address. Remove the animal name to get the actual address: POWauthor zebra at yahoo dot com. This story may be freely copied and distributed so long as it is copied in its entirety, unchanged, including the author credit information and disclaimer. Other POW stories are available at https://powauthor.wordpress.com. The author welcomes feedback.
Note: When I started writing this story, all three of the chastity devices described in it were available from Mr. S Leather. During the time I was writing it, the two metal ones disappeared from their web site and as of October 2019, the only remaining options are plastic and silicone. A pity! I hope Mr. S finds replacements for these products, because one thing I find very, very hot is a dick imprisoned in strong, unyielding steel.
Locktober 2019
Monday, September 30
“That’s it… that’s it… aw, yeah, look at that! Niiiiiiiice…” Mike crooned as he watched Ben jerk himself to orgasm with a grunting, twitching finish, jets of sperm shooting out of his dick.
He gave Ben two minutes to come down through the afterglow phase and then lifted the chastity device. “OK, pal,” he said. “Almost ten o’clock. There’s still two more hours before this thing has to be on, but you’ve got work tomorrow and a bit of a drive tonight. Unless you want to spend the night here? Do the ‘walk of shame’ in the morning, go in to the office on Tuesday still wearing your Monday clothes?”
Ben worked in New Britain and lived in Manchester, about a 25 minute drive under optimal conditions but nearly double that during peak traffic hours. Mike’s home in West Hartford was much closer to Ben’s office, and was even sorta-kinda on the route between the two locations. As a result, when the two got together, whether to play or just to share dinner, it was often at Mike’s place after Ben’s workday ended and before he drove home. On very rare occasions, usually when they met up on a weeknight, Mike would bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush and spend the night, then make the much shorter drive to work the next morning.
Tonight, he had not packed any extra clothing. “No?” Mike continued. “Well, then it’s time to start getting this puppy in place.”
Ben looked for a moment as if he wanted to protest or to plead for just a few minutes longer – the least pleasant time to put a chastity cage on is right after an orgasm. But he acquiesced. Mike was as gentle as he could be, though a certain amount of testicular manhandling is necessary when you’re trying to squeeze a guy’s junk through a silicone ring that is just barely large enough for it to fit through. Ben flinched once and winced several times but endured.
“I’m really glad you shaved,” Mike said. “I gotta admit, it looked pretty strange when you got here and I first saw your new look. But it’s definitely easier to put this on without all that hair in the way.”
“Yeah,” Ben replied, grimacing as Mike thumbed his ball to squash it down through the ring. “That’s exactly the reason, too. After you suggested this little idea, I went and did some online research…”
“Oh, is that what porn is called nowadays?”
“Ha! Yeah, definitely! And there looked to be a pretty strong correlation between chastity and shaved crotches, so I figured, why not?”
“Well, I like it. Looks good on you.”
The process became easier as Ben’s cock shrank back down to its softened state… a state that it would not be able to change without Mike’s permission for the next 31 days.
Once the whole package had been worked through the base ring, the sheath slid easily over Ben’s still-lube-slicked penis. Mike fastened the strap in place, then slipped the slim metal shackle of the lock through the plastic post on the device. Click. The clock showed 10:06.
“OK, stud, you’re locked. That was the last time you get to touch your dick for the next month.”
Ben inspected his now unreachable cock. “The little spikes in the tip aren’t as bad as I thought they’d be,” he said.
Mike laughed. “You forgot to say ‘yet’. I bet you have a different opinion in about five hours when you’re sound asleep and your dick tries to get hard and it wakes you up by stubbornly insisting on trying to shove itself through those spikes. ‘The Punisher’ is definitely wearable long term, but the first few days are probably going to be an adjustment for you.
“Now, to recap: I don’t want to hear from you for three days, because all you’re going to do in that time is bellyache. You’re going to complain that it hurts, or it itches, or the skin of your scrotum is all bunched up under the silicone, that it’s not what you expected it to be like, that you’re sooooo horny, that you’re not sure you can do this, that you’ve changed your mind, blah blah blah. When you catch yourself thinking those thoughts, just remind yourself that everything you’re feeling is totally normal, and you will get through it. Got it?”
“Got it. No callee,” Ben replied as he pulled his clothes on.
“No call, no e-mail, no text, no sad-puppy-eyes meme picture, nuthin’. On Thursday night, the third of Locktober, that’s when you come back. Any time after work is fine – I’ll be here. I’ll unlock you and do an inspection and at that time you can tell me any of the thoughts you’ve had between now and then that you still think are important enough to mention. But I bet by then you’ll have gotten over the initial discomfort and be ready to go for the long haul. Any questions?”
There were none. Ben departed. Mike went to bed himself, smiling at the thought that when he got a 3AM hard-on this coming morning… or the next… or the next… there would be nothing to stop it from growing to full size and rubbing itself against the soft, smooth sheets. Unlike poor Ben…
When Mike had first proposed the “Locktober Challenge” to Ben a few months earlier, their positions had been very much reversed. Mike had been suspended from the rafters in Ben’s basement, supported by straps running on either side of his crotch. His arms were cuffed behind him and his legs were stretched out to either side. His head was propped up by a posture collar and a blindfold kept him from being distracted by the sights around him, letting him focus all his attention on his cock, which had a vibrator attached to it. The vibrator was set at a frustratingly low level, just right for a sustained, long-term scene: strong enough to provide the necessary stimulation… eventually… but only if he was able to concentrate enough to get in the right head space to reach a climax.
Mike had been dangling for a while, trying to work himself into a horny mindset. It just wasn’t taking – the position was too comfortable, maybe? He found it was always a turn-on for him to have to work his muscles in some sort of predicament bondage, but here he was just relaxed, floating. His thoughts kept wandering away from his dick and the too-gentle buzzing of the vibrator. Random topics kept flitting into his brain – a mental note to do the garden weeding early tomorrow because by afternoon the day was going to be stinkin’ hot with thunderstorms… which meant he could go to the post office in the afternoon to mail his mom’s birthday present… no, picture putting clamps onto Ben’s nipples, ah, that was better… clamps, yes… clamps or maybe pliers… long needle nose pliers like the kind he needed to go to Lowe’s and get because the ones he had now were too short and stubby to reach into the space inside the filing cabinet so he could unjam the drawer so it would open again… no! Sex! Think sex!
“You know, this would be a lot easier if you would uncuff my hands and let me handle the dickwork myself,” he said out loud, possibly to himself because he wasn’t even sure Ben was in the room to hear him.
Ben was, as it turned out. His voice sounded from fairly close to Mike’s right ear. “Sorry. That area is off-limits to all but approved personnel and their designated automated assistants. Besides, ‘easier’ isn’t really what I’m aiming for here.”
“Well, shit.” Mike endured another minute or two, trying to force himself to feel stimulation that the vibrator just wasn’t providing. He pumped his hips a bit, uselessly fucking thin air. “Do you have any idea how frustrating it is not to be able to touch your own cock?”
“Oh, I understand your frustration,” Ben purred. “Sometimes I want to touch your cock but you’re all the way across town instead of tied up in my basement.”
“Ha ha, funny. I think it’s only fair… some three or four years from now after this damn vibrator finally finishes doing its job… for me to take charge of your dick for a while. A month, let’s say. Lock you up in chastity and only let you out when I’ve got your hands tied so you can’t reach yourself.”
“A month. You expect me to go an entire month without getting off?”
“No, I’d let you come. Just… on my terms. I’d want to let you stew long enough to get really, really horned up, then slowly, sloooooowly take you over the edge. Oh, yeah, veeeeeerrrrry slowly, gee, can’t imagine why I’m thinking of that right now. But yeah, you’d get to come a couple of times. Twice, let’s say. Or three times if you behave.”
“You’re not really in a position to talk about me behaving,” Ben noted.
“Yeah, that’s true… for now,” Mike agreed. “But after I get you locked up? That’s a different story!”
“IF I agree to do it. And even then, you know that the only truly 100% secure chastity devices are the ones that pierce the skin. You aren’t proposing that I should get extra holes down there, I hope!”
“No, this would have to be at least partly honor system. I own three different types of device and I’m sure you could pull yourself out of any of them. BUT! You wouldn’t be able to put any of them back on without unlocking it first. Which you couldn’t do without either having the key or destroying the lock. So I’d know.”
“True enough…”
Ben was kind enough then to nudge the vibrator to a slightly higher setting and Mike’s attention was drawn to the buzzing on his cock. Slowly, slowly, he edged his way closer to an eruption, stimulated by both the sensation and at the prospect of being back in the dominant role, of taking control of his bondage buddy’s cock away from him. Later that evening, over dinner, they would work out the broad outlines of how Locktober would play out, but that would come after Mike had laboriously worked his way up to a sputtering climax, after he had lost himself in the shuddering, twitching throes of mechanically-induced ecstasy…
… and after Ben finally turned off the vibrator, having left it running for far longer than necessary after the explosion.
Thursday, October 3
“Hey, you made good time. Come on in.” Mike took Ben’s jacket and hung it up – the New England days were still warm this early in the month, but once the sun went down the evenings cooled down rapidly. “How was the traffic?”
“Not bad. A little jammed up around Westfarms but that’s normal for a Thursday night.”
“That’s normal for any day that ends in Y. Can I get you something to eat?”
“No, thanks, I stopped at Panera after work.”
“Something to drink then? Want a beer?”
“No. Thanks. I’m good.”
“I was just sitting down to watch the hockey, you wanna…?” Mike had to stop when he saw the expression on Ben’s face, unable to keep the act up without cracking a smile.
“Very funny, sir,” Ben said. “You know darn well why I’m here!”
“Oh, ‘sir’, is it?” Mike asked. “Better be careful saying that, I could get used to hearing it…” He led Ben up to the bedroom.
“Any thoughts so far?” he asked on the way.
“Mmm… it’s been manageable. Not pleasant! But manageable. You were right about the night times. Those are definitely the worst. I wake up in the middle of the night because my body is trying to get hard even though my brain knows it’s impossible, but my body keeps trying while I’m in this kind of half-sleep. And I am so tempted to reach down and rip that thing off, but I can’t because I’d never be able to get it off with my dick half-hard. The only way I could take it off is when I’m completely un-horny and everything is as small as possible, which I am by the time morning comes, but by then I’m back in control and I figure I can tough it out for one more day. So, basically… you were right. So far, at least!”
They reached the bedroom. “You know the rules,” Mike said. “No touching your dick this whole month. So before I take your cock out of its cage, I’ll need to secure your hands so that you can’t reach it.” He lifted a steel restraint from the bed, a pole with a large central hole for the neck and two smaller holes at either end for the wrists. He secured the restraint in place around Ben’s neck, careful not to pinch the skin, then fastened the wrists and locked each of the clasps.
“Try not to bang into the walls, ‘k?” Mike led Ben into the bathroom and had him stand in the tub, then removed his shoes, socks, pants, and underwear. The process was awkward for both of them, Mike because he was reaching over the low tub wall to fumble at Ben’s clothing and Ben because Mike’s movements were constantly nudging him off balance; with his arms fixed the way they were it was not always easy to remain standing. Before long they were both laughing at the absurdity.
“Hey,” Ben said after narrowly avoiding tearing a hole in the shower curtain as he lurched to avoid falling, “how about next time I take off my own clothes BEFORE you break out the hardware, huh?”
“Heck yeah,” Mike grumbled. “Why should I be the one doing the work here?”
“I hope your plan for the rest of the month is a little more well-thought-out!” Ben gibed.
“Oh, have no fear of that,” Mike muttered, wrestling with a sock.
Ben finally figured out that he could twist to position one palm against the tile and that gave him enough stability that Mike could finish undressing him. When he had been stripped from the waist down, Mike fished a small key out of his pocket and inserted it in the lock. With a soft click, the lock opened. Mike drew it out from the plastic post, then undid the strap that held the sheath in place. Ben’s dick, which had been soft up until this point, began to grow as Mike’s fingers manipulated the cage around it. Mike was able to remove the sheath before the thickening shaft made that difficult and soon the sheath was pressed up and to the side by the force of Ben’s fully-engorged dick standing up straight and proud.
“Ah, jeeeez, that feels good,” Ben murmured.
“I bet it does,” agreed Mike. “But you’re going to have to get it back down again pretty quick. Today I’m only taking it out for a brief inspection, and then it’s gonna go right back in. So you need to either soften yourself up quick, or I’m going to have to do it for you.”
He leaned in and peered at the shaft. Three days of confinement had given it a fairly strong odor. “I see you’ve got some red marks where the spikes were digging in. How do they feel?” Mike rubbed his palm over the head of Ben’s dick, triggering a gasp from above. “Sensitive, eh? Mmm hmm.” He leaned back. “Looks good. Keep using the cream. Have you been doing that?” Ben nodded. “Just a little dab on your pinky finger, fit it in through the hole at the tip, smear it all over the head. That’ll keep things moving smoothly around inside. Otherwise those red marks will turn into welts and you’re really going to be sore down there.”
He released Ben’s dick, still hard and throbbing in time with Ben’s heartbeat.
“Now, I’m going to wash you off, cream you back up, and get you snugged back down inside. And I’ll remind you again that you need to be soft for that to happen. I’m going to wash you with warm water… but warm water is a privilege, not a right.”
He lifted the shower head down from its hook and turned on the water, aiming the nozzle at the floor of the tub. Ben moved as far away as he could to keep the not-yet-warmed water from pooling around his bare feet. When it had warmed up, Mike directed the stream at Ben’s dick and balls, soaking them thoroughly. Soap followed and the act of rubbing the lather over Ben’s genitals only served to strengthen his erection. Another spray from the nozzle rinsed the soap and the remaining aroma away. Mike turned off the water and stood up, looking pointedly into Ben’s eyes, then down at his crotch, then back up to his eyes, this time holding the stare.
“Just two minutes, OK?” Ben begged, his voice cracking just a bit. “Two minutes?”
“Sorry, friend,” Mike said. “I want that thing locked back up now.”
He knelt down again, turned the water back on, and aimed the spray where it had been aimed before. Then, deliberately, he cranked the temperature control all the way to the right. There was no immediate reaction – the change had to propagate up from the valve to the top of the stall where the shower fixture emerged from the wall, then down the flexible hose to the nozzle in Mike’s hand. But when the cold water had traveled all that distance, the effect was immediate.
“Ah, shit!” Ben exclaimed. “Fuck, that’s cold!” He twisted and dodged, trying to get his dick out of the frigid stream. Mike followed his every move, though the dancing motions meant the icy water hit Ben’s waist and thighs more than its primary target. “This would be a lot easier on you if you would hold still, you know,” Mike lectured, but Ben continued to squirm.
Three long minutes later, Ben’s dick had shrunk down enough that it could fit inside the sheath again. Mike shut the water off, quickly slathered Ben’s shrunken penis with a layer of cream, stuffed it inside the tube, and locked the device down again.
“All set. Now go home! Come back on Saturday and we’ll have some play time.”
“I’m assuming ‘play time’ will not involve an orgasm,” Ben said grumpily.
“For you, no. It’s way too soon. You’re nowhere near horny enough yet.”
“Oh, I would dispute that statement!”
“You think you’re horny now? Oh, my friend, it is only the third of Locktober. You have no idea what you’re in for!”
Saturday, October 5
Ben arrived a little after 1:00 in the afternoon. “I know I’m not getting off today, but do I least get to get unlocked? You know, stretch out for a bit?”
“Not a chance. You’re going to stay locked up tight for the entire time while I work on your nipples. I’m gonna absolutely destroy your tits today. They’re going to be sore until the middle of next week.”
“Ah, fuck you.”
“Not on today’s agenda. Another time.”
Mike led Ben upstairs, had him strip off his clothes, and secured him to the bed.
“Man, this under-mattress bondage harness was one of the best purchases I ever made,” he said as he fastened the various straps that would hold Ben down for the next several hours. “Doing this same work with ropes was such a pain. Now I can get you hooked up at wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles in half the time and a whole lot more comfort so you can last a nice looooooong time. There!”
Ben tugged experimentally at the restraints. He was in a very effective spread-eagle – there was some movement allowed to him, but not much. His wrists were attached to the corners of the bed at both top and sides; his ankles were similarly attached at two points each, limiting the available movement of each of his limbs to a small area. His knees and elbows were each attached to the bedsides, and on top of that each elbow was connected to the knee on the same side. That connecting strap had then been pulled out and attached to the bed frame. All of the points where the restraints met his body were soft lined leather cuffs. There was no strain on him… as long as he held perfectly still with his limbs in exactly the places Mike had placed them. Any movement at all would create a force that would try to push his arms and legs back to their “home” position. Ben would grow sore from holding the position and become desperate to move, and would probably exhaust himself fighting the bondage, but no pinch points would affect his nerves or his circulation and require Mike to let him up.
Satisfied with the arrangement, Mike removed his own clothes and began gliding his fingers over Ben’s body, from wrists to soles and back again. He caressed the light fur of the chest, stroked the tender tits, brushed the sensitive inner thighs with his fingertips. He then allowed his fingers to gently nudge the testicles, which were poking out from the underside of the chastity device with a silicone divider running between them and pressing them out to the sides. Ben’s dick started to swell from the attention, but rapidly hit the limit that the cage would allow. Mike examined the head and noted with satisfaction how it was mashed firmly up against every one of the spikes, which appeared as slightly-darker dimples through the semi-transparent silicone.
“Mmm…” he drawled. “Better get used to the way that feels, because I’m going to keep you like that for a long, long time today. Jammed right up against those spikes while my own equipment, as you can see, gets to stretch out much more comfortably.”
Two hours of titwork followed. Mike began with simple clothespins placed horizontally, one on each nipple. They sat there while Mike continued exploring Ben’s body, touching every part of him, bending down to explore the inside of Ben’s mouth with his tongue, nuzzling up against his balls. After ten minutes, the clothespins came off.
“You get a one-minute break,” Mike informed him. “Then they’re going back on vertically”. Mike timed the break exactly and replaced the clamps the moment sixty seconds had elapsed.
More caresses, more stroking, more kisses. At one point Mike gave the head of Ben’s caged cock a squeeze. Ben yelped. “Shit! I’ve squeezed it myself a few times the last couple of days, but it felt nothing at all like what you just did! That really caught me off guard!”
“Yeah,” Mike murmured with his face buried in Ben’s neck. “It’s weird that way. Kind of like tickling yourself, maybe? If you do it to yourself, not much happens. But if someone else does it…” he squeezed again. Another yelp while Ben’s arms tried to yank free of their restraints. “… it’s a completely different experience.”
After ten more minutes, Ben got another break from the clothespins. And then after another precisely-timed one-minute break, they were replaced by clover clamps. These focused their squeeze on the tip of each nipple. Ben grunted as they were put on and squirmed slightly from side to side on the bed as he adjusted to the sensation. Mike ran his tongue alongside the clamps and blew on the wet nipples, cooling them and causing them to shrink and tense up under the bite of the clamps. More teasing caresses, and then it was time to remove the clamps, wait a minute, and replace them, rotated ninety degrees.
By this time, Ben was starting to moan. His cock had been swelling against the silicone tube for half an hour and the head remained stubbornly pressed up against the tiny spikes. “You want me to rub this for you, don’t you,” Mike sang softly as he groped the stifled genitals, “but that’s not gonna happen today, no it’s not. Your dick is locked, locked up tight and it’s not coming out of that cage today, ’cause the only dick that’s gonna get rubbed today is mine.”
After the clover clamps came small, green-tipped spring-loaded steel vise grips from the hardware store. Ben bucked when these were placed on his nipples. “If that’s how you react when I put them on at the base of your tits, I can’t wait to see how you react when I place them right on the tips. But that’ll be a while from now, because I think you can take the full ten minutes. Each way, of course, so twenty minutes total.”
“No, no, I don’t think I can take ten minutes of this, please…” Ben whimpered.
“Yeah. You can,” Mike replied, then stuffed his dick in Ben’s mouth. Ben began sucking hungrily on it, distracting himself from the strain in his limbs and the pain in his chest and crotch by focusing on worshiping the cock in front of him. His head was trapped between Mike’s crotch and the pillow, and Mike knew from his own experience what a helpless position that was, that Ben had no choice but to take Mike’s cock into his mouth and throat as deeply as Mike felt like shoving it. He plunged in a few times until he heard Ben making muffled pleas for air, then pulled out to let his captive breathe a bit and slather his dick with his tongue. Then in again until he started to feel himself coming close to the tipping point… just as the timer sounded. He pulled his cock out and removed the clamps. Ben grunted with each removal; Mike responded by mashing his thumbs down on the tender nipples, flattening them and bringing a genuine yell from Ben’s mouth.
One minute later, the clamps went back on vertically and Ben bucked and squirmed again. “Ah, fack!” he blurted as the first went on, followed by “shit, no, no, no” as the second bit down. Mike inspected the chastity device – still fully packed. He put his dick back into Ben’s mouth. Ben went back to work enthusiastically, seeking any way to transmute his discomfort into sexual energy. The ten minutes flew by with Mike skating very close to the edge, and then it was time once more to unclamp Ben’s tits. Ben shouted once more when they came off and thrashed when Mike’s thumbs pressed into the spots where the clamps once were.
“This time we’re only going to go three minutes,” Mike said. “But I suspect you’re going to think it feels longer than the last twenty.” Carefully, he squeezed both the clamp and Ben’s left nipple and placed the one on the other as close to the tip as he could get it while still being sure it wouldn’t slip off. He let go of the clamp’s handles slowly, letting the pressure on Ben’s tit build and build and build until the sound of high-pitched squealing filled the room. He did the same to the right side and by the time he was done, Ben was lying with his eyes closed, concentrating on breathing in and out, steadily, one heaving breath at a time. Mike checked his crotch: the first sign of softening was there; his captive’s cock was no longer pressed quite so firmly against its enclosure.
“Three minutes, starting now.”
“Take ’em off, take ’em off, ah jeez, please take ’em off…” Ben mumbled in barely coherent words. Mike said nothing in response but instead stroked and squeezed Ben’s cock through the thick silicone sheath that encased it. Ben thrust his hips up and down, trying not to move his chest in the process, in a futile attempt to turn pain into pleasure. Mike was gratified to see the trapped dick swelling back up to completely fill the confined space. All too soon, the timer sounded and Mike removed the two clamps simultaneously. Ben exploded and tried to curl inward on himself. “And you know the rule,” Mike said over his captive’s shouting. “Whatever we do horizontally, we also do vertically.”
“NO! No no no, ah jeez, no…”
One precise minute later, the clamps went back on and Ben squirmed in helpless frustration, gasping through the following three minutes.
“Funny how you can get used to things, isn’t it? I mean, those clamps hurt something fierce when they first go on, but the longer they stay there, the more you grow accustomed to it. It’s only at the changeover – when the clamps go on or when they come back off – that the pain is at its worst. That’s why we’re only going to go three minutes at a time now. Your nipples have been thoroughly mashed and the tissue is starting to swell and become tender. So they’ll hurt all the more when that tender, swollen tissue gets recompressed and then re-expands later.”
“Please… don’t…”
“Sorry, bud. I’m enjoying this too much to stop.”
The green-tipped clamps went on and off several more times, demanding more and more of Ben’s focus as time passed. After perhaps thirty minutes, Mike pulled out a new toy: a set of alligator clips.
“No fuckin’ way!” Ben exclaimed when he saw them.
“Yes fuckin’ way,” Mike said, gently massaging each of the overworked nipples with his left thumb while dangling the alligator clips in Ben’s field of view with his other hand. “I’m at the point where I really need to come, and what’s going to push me over the edge will be the sight and sound of you squirming under me while you try to cope with these things biting into your chest. Right on those sensitive, very-well-tenderized nips.”
“No… please…” Ben begged as Mike squeezed his right nipple and opened the jaws of the clip. Mike took his time, carefully centering the clip on the pink, swollen nipple and gently, gently, letting the jaws close. The pitch and volume of Ben’s begging both rose as the tiny steel teeth bit in further and further. “Please… oh shit no… ah, fuck!”
The second clip went on the same way once it was on, Mike straddled Ben’s body and looked down at his friend’s face. Ben’s eyes were closed, he was whimpering softly, and his muscles were tensed from head to toe. Mike began stroking himself, occasionally reaching down with the other hand to nudge one of the clips, which always drew fresh gasps out of Ben. It didn’t take long. Mike’s cock erupted with a jet of semen that struck Ben in a line from the center of his chest up to his chin. A second jolt left a second line angled next to the first, and the subsequent spurts merely dribbled out to form a puddle between the two clips. Mike’s pistoning fist slowly stopped pumping and he let out a long, satisfied sigh.
“Please… take ’em off now… take ’em off, oh fuckit,” Ben pleaded.
“Hang on, I’ll get there. Whew. Damn, that was good!” Mike responded. Swinging his leg over Ben’s body so as to kneel beside rather than over him, he took one of the tits between his fingers and squeezed, then opened the jaws of the clip up and carefully pried the teeth out from the indentations they had made in Ben’s skin. Ben flailed and whooped. “Hey, quit bucking!” Mike complained. “I know how to do this to minimize your discomfort. You moving around doesn’t help.” Soon enough, the second clip was off as well. Mike set the two clips aside, then mopped the sticky goo off Ben’s chest with a T-shirt. Then he collapsed on the bed next to his friend, awkwardly fitting himself on the side of the bed since Ben was taking up the middle and all four corners.
“Damn,” Ben said after a few minutes. “I am as horny as I have ever been, and you’re not going to let me do a thing about it, are you?”
Mike chuckled. “Nope. Not today. Like I promised, you’ll get to come this month. Twice at least, maybe three times. But not today.”
“When, then?”
“Oh, when I think you’re ready.”
“Dammit, I’m ready now! My dick is still as hard as it can get! You’re all after-glowy and satisfied and I’m just… just…”
“Frustrated. Yeah. That’s what chastity is all about. This month, that’s your role: to be sexually unfulfilled. Because I want you that way.”
“Are you at least gonna untie me?”
“Mmmmm… not just yet. I’m kinda drowsy after all that work I did while you were just lying here. Let’s just spoon a little.” Mike nestled up against Ben’s stretched-out body, throwing his leg over Ben’s thigh and resting his head in the crook of Ben’s shoulder. He let his fingers trace gentle, idle patterns on Ben’s swollen, inflamed nipples until the sound of steady, even breathing revealed that Mike had fallen asleep.
Ben continued to lie there for the next half hour, cockhead pressed into the spikes of the chastity device, simmering in helpless frustration. His arms and legs had resigned themselves to being immobilized. He knew they would be afire with pins-and-needles tingles once they were finally set free, but for the time being he was comfortable… if frustrated. He wanted to move, he wanted to rip the fucking monstrosity off his cock, grab hold with both hands, and start stroking. It wouldn’t take long, just ten or twenty strokes, and then he’d be finally satisfied, finally able to think straight again… but instead, he was trapped in a vicious circle: thinking about getting off just made him want to get off more. He had to try to distract himself, and yet every thought eventually led back to his imprisoned penis. He was going nowhere, and neither was his dick.
At last Mike began to stir, just as Ben had finally managed to get his dick to soften enough to allow the head to stop squeezing itself into the spikes. “Ah, that was refreshing!” Mike yawned and stretched. “Let’s get you untied and order some Thai.” Ben fixed him with a puzzled stare until Mike realized what he had said. “Oh! Ha ha! No, I meant like, spicy shrimp and fried noodles. Although we can see what the delivery guy looks like when he gets here, maybe give him a nice ‘tip’, y’know?”
Ben, freed, took a few minutes to restore the circulation in his limbs while Mike placed the order. They ate and then, while Ben had cooled down enough and was distracted enough that his cock had a chance of remaining soft for a few minutes, Mike took him into the bathroom to give him a wash. Instead of the neck yoke that had proved so awkward the last time, he cuffed Ben’s hands behind him and attached the cuffs to a waist chain to keep them pinned in place at the small of his back. Once in the tub, he removed the silicone device entirely and lathered Ben’s cock and balls up with soap, then rinsed them off and dried them and sent Ben over to stand by the bed.
“I’m going to set you up in a different cage,” he informed him, holding up the new device so Ben could see it. It was roughly teardrop-shaped, with a fist-sized fat end tapering to a narrower top. The back side was solid metal; the front was a mesh of bars. It had a hinge on the bottom such that the front half could swing down, exposing the inside. “This one is a ‘Skeletor’ cage. Your dick and balls go through the hole in the back, your balls get bound up by this leather strap attached to the inside back surface here, and then the whole thing folds closed.”
It took some doing to get the cage in place. Ben kept stiffening up and Mike kept having to wait for him to soften again. “I like this one because it’s an intense head trip,” he remarked at one point. “Not only your dick but also your balls are locked up inside. And the bars at the front look like they have spaces between them that are wide enough to poke your fingers through, but if you try you’ll find you can’t. You’ll be able to see yourself and touch yourself with the tip of your pinky, but you won’t be able to do anything useful with it. These are some serious iron bars you’ll be locked up in! But there are downsides. The thing is heavy, so you’ll want to support the weight with something other than your skin because that gets uncomfortable pretty quickly. Also, we want to make sure that the skin behind your balls is completely smooth and straight. It’s OK if it bunches up around the sides or the front, but you want the back to not have any folds. If any are there, you’ll feel it pretty bad in an hour or two, and it’s a lot easier to fix them when the cage is open.”
Getting the cage situated correctly took a lot of attempts: Mike would rearrange the folds of skin until Ben’s swelling cock made the process difficult, then they would wait until the pressure had fallen and start again. “Lotta work you’re doing there,” Ben remarked at one point.
“Yeah,” Mike responded. “I think I’m only going to keep you in this one for a couple of days. I do want to make sure you wear it to work at least once. I’m going to have fun on Monday imagining you walking around your office with this monster hanging between your legs. Bet the nosy ladies make admiring comments about your package when you’re out of earshot. Wouldn’t they be scandalized to know the real reason for the bulge in your pants?” He folded the hinge shut, trapping Ben’s dick in its cell. He used a hex key to tighten down the recessed screw that held the two parts together, then slipped a small padlock through the walls surrounding the screw and clicked it shut. The shaft of the lock now blocked access to the head of the screw, preventing it from being removed.
“There. Same deal as before – you can probably work this off if you try, but it’ll be tough. It’s possible you could find yourself with your dick out but your balls still inside, held in place by that leather strap and supporting a hefty chunk of metal. You could probably get the strap undone, maybe using a pair of tweezers to reach in through the bars. But no matter what, you won’t be able to get the cage back on after you get it off, so I will know you cheated.”
Ben held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“One last thing, then…” Mike threaded a shoelace through the top bars of the cage, looped it around Ben’s waist, and tied the ends together. “That’ll help support the weight. Makes it a bit easier.” He uncuffed Ben’s hands and let him explore the prison that now held his junk locked away. Sure enough, he could poke no more than a small fingertip inside the cage. He squeezed the metal, then rapped on it with his knuckles. “Dang. I can’t feel anything through this!” Unlike the silicone cage, the metal version was incompressible: there would be no stimulating his cockhead by squeezing it.
Ben then turned his fingers toward Mike’s crotch, which was starting to swell from watching Ben explore his condition. Ben sank to his knees and hungrily gave Mike’s erection all the attention he wanted to devote to his own, but after perhaps ten minutes Mike pushed him away. “Go on now, you horny dog. Get on home. I’ll let you know when I want you back here.” Ben made sad puppy eyes in response, but obediently got dressed and prepared to head out. Mike saw him to the door.
“Oh, I almost forgot. When you pee, try to aim between the bars, right?” Ben saluted and headed for his car.
Sunday, October 6
Mike’s phone dinged four times during the night. He heard the third one, squeezed an eye open, saw that it was a message from Ben, and tucked his phone under the neighboring pillow. He was asleep again before the fourth chime came.
In the morning, he read:
1:31AM Holy crap! Feels like my dick is trying to strangle my balls!
1:43AM Dang, I can’t get it to go down! It’s taking up all the room in that little ring and nothing can get through!
1:44AM If I’m not sleeping, you’re not sleeping either!
1:56AM Finally. Blood is flowing again. ‘Course, now I’m completely NOT SLEEPY.
He quickly typed back “Man up, buttercup. I was planning to switch cages to something more comfortable tomorrow evening, but if you bother me again tonight that one is staying on another day.”
The stream of observations continued slowly throughout the day.
9:45AM I don’t think I’m going to try to stand while peeing. That was possible with the other one if I got things lined up right before starting.
9:45AM This thing is just too heavy, though. Hard to aim!
11:56AM This thing really cuts off any stimulation. I just closed the fork drawer by nudging it with my pelvis instead of my hip like I would usually do.
11:57AM Didn’t feel a thing. Like, I’m used to guarding that area, protecting it. Don’t have to any more!
11:59AM I opened and closed the drawer a few times and found I could slam myself against it and feel ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.
12:41PM Tits are so effin’ sore… grrrr!
2:02PM CRAP! BALL ITCH!
This was followed by an animated emoji of a frustrated face that cycled through various shades of yellow, orange, and red as its eyes boggled in and out. Then, later:
4:12PM Able to slam car doors on his crotch with a single pound! It’s a nerd, it’s a brain… it’s CHASTITY MAN!
Mike didn’t reply until just after 9 PM to say “I’m putting my phone on Do Not Disturb now. I’ll check in the morning to see whether to sentence you to another day in that cage. Behave!” Ben responded with an animated salute GIF.
In the morning Mike checked his phone to find only a single message, sent just fifteen minutes earlier.
6:30AM Gee whiz, it sure was swell to have such a great night’s sleep! No troubles at all, no sirree, not here!
Mike responded “Smart@$$. Come over after work tonight. It’s edging time.”
Monday, October 7
Ben’s cock and balls dangled freely in open air for the first time in a week. No silicone, no metal, no impediments of any kind enclosed them. He couldn’t reach them, of course. His hands were attached to the ceiling; his ankles were held apart by a spreader bar.
Mike had removed the iron cage and washed what had formerly been held inside it, then fastened Ben in a standing spread-eagle. Now he was slowly, patiently, stroking Ben’s dick. The two had already had dinner – now the evening loomed before them, a long, uninterrupted stretch where Mike was going to bring Ben right up to the edge of orgasm once, twice… a few dozen times.
It wasn’t difficult to get Ben close – it had been a week since his last orgasm and there had been plenty of buildup during that time. Mike tried to keep the stimulation soft and gentle, but Ben was too revved up. The slightest friction at all was enough to get him going. Soon enough, Mike had to let go completely or risk Ben splattering the carpet. He waited half a minute, then resumed.
“Tits feeling any better?” he asked a short while later after feeling Ben’s dick swell beneath his fingers for the third or fourth time, his cue to release the throbbing organ and let it bounce a while once more in the empty air to cool down.
Ben opened his eyes, humping the air with a few futile pelvic thrusts before replying. “Yeah… mostly. Still kinda sore, but yesterday every time my shirt slid across my chest I’d jump. They’re much better today.”
“Glad to hear it,” Mike said, bending to stroke him once more as Ben moaned in response to his touch.
Some time later, perhaps the tenth or twelfth time Mike brought Ben right up to the brink of satisfaction before abandoning him unfulfilled, Ben said “Please… please… please let me shoot.”
“Not gonna happen. You’re still not ready.”
“PLEASE! Goddammit, I can’t possibly get any readier!”
“True. Which is exactly the way I want you. You can’t possibly get any hornier… but you can stay at this level for a nice long while. You’re at your peak of horniness right now, and that’s where I want to keep you.”
Ben shook his arms, tugging uselessly on the restraints. Mike resumed stroking – he could only get two or three pulls in before having to withdraw his hand again lest he push Ben’s aching, swollen dick into an explosion.
Some three hours later, he finally stopped. Ben’s eyes were glazed over and he was allowing the wrist chains to support some of his weight. Mike sat back and simply watched. It took a long time, but eventually Ben’s dick began to soften. With glacial slowness, it drooped down below horizontal and gradually continued to sink down and contract. Mike waited until it was thoroughly soft before quickly putting the next device on.
“You’ll wear this one for the rest of the month,” Mike said. “It’s good for long-term use. No spikes and a little more freedom for your balls.” The device had a steel ring that encircled both shaft and nuts and a small metal rod that extended out over the top of Ben’s cock. At the end of the rod was a small rubber noose that Mike slipped over the head, which was starting to stiffen up again. Quickly he slid the last piece in place, a silver tube that completely encased Ben’s dick.
“There,” he said as the lock clicked shut. “This is a good one. The noose holds the tip of your dick against the end of the tube, which both prevents you from pulling it out and helps to make sure when you pee it comes out the hole in the end instead of puddling up inside the tube.”
He released Ben’s hands. Ben gently lowered them, not eager to make quick movements with limbs that had long been held immobile.
“I am serious when I say this,” he said, “but I have absolutely got to shoot a load. I can’t stand it.”
Mike kissed him, not something they ordinarily did. He held the kiss a few seconds, pressing his crotch into the metal sheath covering Ben’s as he did, then broke away, his hands behind Ben’s head holding him close. “I know,” he whispered. “But I’m not going to let you.”
Ben let out a little sound, halfway between a squeak and a sob.
“However, I do want to blow a load myself. How about you and your mouth help me out a bit?”
So Ben dropped to his knees and channeled his raging horniness into Mike’s cock instead of his own, sucking and licking, squeezing the base with his fingers, pulling Mike’s balls toward his chin so as to force the dick deep down his throat. Ben’s cock swelled against the unyielding metal of its prison and he occasionally reached down hoping to stroke his own erection, knowing that his fingers would touch hard steel instead of soft flesh but doing it anyway. He was so desperate for release, hornier than he had ever been, and yet all he could do was deliver the pleasure that he craved for himself over to Mike instead.
It took only minutes for Mike to reach the brink and then hot salty fluid was spurting into Ben’s mouth, filling it up as fast as he could swallow it down. He kept working even as the aftershocks of Mike’s explosion faded away until Mike finally had to physically shove him away.
“No!” Ben moaned. “More! I need more…”
“Damn, down, you animal!” Mike exclaimed. “Enough already!” Ben knelt there on the floor, mouth open, tongue still flicking at his lips to vacuum up the smeared residue Mike had left there, breathing heavily, eyes glazed over with lust. Mike pulled his pants up and waited for Ben to cool down. Eventually Ben’s breathing eased and he sat back on the floor, legs still held wide apart by the spreader bar.
“I don’t think I can take this,” he moaned.
“Yeah,” Mike replied. “You can. This is exactly how I want you. As horned up as you can possibly be.” He bent down to release Ben’s ankles from the spreader bar.
“Keep one evening this weekend free, OK? Friday or Saturday, doesn’t matter which. Until then, I want you to watch a lot of porn. Whenever you get a chance, I want you to be thinking of sweaty men having sex with each other.”
Ben stood shakily, his first chance to have his legs directly beneath him in several hours. They wobbled slightly as he sought his balance. “I am pretty sure I’m not going to be able to think of anything else,” he murmured.
Mike laughed. “So let me know, then. Friday or Saturday, you pick. Now get dressed and go home!”
Wednesday, October 9
9:38AM (Ben) I have Friday evening free.
9:55AM (Mike) OK
Thursday, October 10
11:01AM (Ben) So what do you have in mind for Friday?
2:40PM (Ben) You there?
8:43PM (Ben) At least tell me what time. Should I come by after work?
8:47PM (Mike) Yes. Come over after work.
8:47PM (Mike) I want you to fuck me.
Friday, October 11
Ben arrived at Mike’s place to find the garage door unlocked and a small note above the doorknob. “I’m downstairs” was all it said.
Ben walked in and locked the door behind him, then made his way down to the basement. He had a pretty good idea of what he’d find there, and sure enough, when he reached the base of the steps, he could see Mike lying in a sling suspended from the rafters. He had done a bit of self-bondage, attaching his ankles and wrists to the support chains of the sling, leaving his ass hanging over the edge, fully accessible for Ben to use.
Ben’s cock pressed up against the sheath, swelling to fill the entire space it was allowed. “I like what I see,” he said softly.
“Thought you might,” Mike replied.
“This is unusual… you don’t often like to be on the receiving end of a fucking.”
“True. What can I say, I’m just in the mood to take a nice, thick schlong up my ass today.”
“Well. I’m delighted to hear that. And I’ll be happy to oblige you.” Ben had crossed the distance and now stood at Mike’s side, running his fingers over the leather cuffs around his wrists. They were held in place with spring clips, something Mike could easily release himself from. He reached out and gave Mike’s nipples a squeeze. “I see your nipples are looking rather vulnerable. I haven’t forgotten how you treated my nipples last week, you know.”
Mike gave a little moan and thrust his chest up towards Ben’s fingers. “I bet you haven’t. I was kind of expecting you might want to inflict a bit of payback for that.”
“I’ll be happy to oblige you in that, too,” Ben cooed. He looked around and saw some toys sitting on a nearby table. He selected a pair of clamps with a moderate bite and set them in place. “Mmmmmmmmmm”, Mike hummed.
Ben turned his attention to Mike’s cock, which was fully engorged. He stroked it a few times, bringing more moans of pleasure from Mike’s throat. His own cock remained trapped in its prison, and after Monday’s edging session and hours of frustrating porn consumption in the following days, he was more than ready for it to be set free. The idea of burying it deep in Mike’s ass only made it press still harder against its metal cage.
He jacked Mike’s dick more with one hand while probing at the opening of his ass with the other, crooning dirty talk at him ass the while. “You want dick, huh? You want a nice fat dick to fill you up, is that right? Aw, yeah, I’ll fill you up, buddy, I’ll fill that ass, fill that ass right up for you.”
“Awww, yeah,” Mike muttered in response. “Give me that dick, I need that dick.”
This went on for a few minutes with Ben’s fingers slowly loosening up Mike’s hole, until Ben finally gave voice to the issue he would have thought was obvious. “I’m gonna need that key, then.”
“What key?” Mike asked.
“The one that will let you get that dick you’re craving.”
“Oh, we don’t need a key for that.”
This brought Ben up short. “I’m confused,” he finally said.
Mike nodded to the toy table. “That’s the one I’m talking about.”
On the table, half-hidden in the pile of cuffs and chains and ropes and e-stim attachments, was a strap-on dildo, seven inches long and as thick as two thumbs placed side to side. Ben’s face fell as he realized the implication. “Oh, fuck. Oh, you are fucking kidding me!”
“No joke,” Mike replied. “If you want to fuck me, that’s the dick you’ll need to do it with.”
“Shit, you utter bastard! I thought I was going to get to finally unload tonight, but this was just another one of your mind games!”
“Hey, I never said I’d unlock you, let alone let you have an orgasm! You jumped to that conclusion all by yourself!” Said with a tiny smile and just enough smugness in his voice to make it clear that he knew perfectly well the role he had played in the “misunderstanding”.
Ben threw his head back and laughed. “What if I decide to change the game, huh? What if I replace those spring clips at your wrists with padlocks? What if I tell you you’re staying locked there until you tell me where the key to this cage is and I give you the solid ass-fucking you so royally deserve with a real dick?”
“You could try that,” Mike admitted. “But we’d be waiting a while. I mailed the key to myself. Dropped it off at the post office this afternoon. There’s a small chance the package might arrive tomorrow, but it’s pretty unlikely. It’d be more likely to get here Monday… except that Monday is Columbus Day so there’s no mail, so I’d say you’re locked up until Tuesday at the earliest. That’d be a long time to keep me chained up down here. Surely it’s better to do it my way?”
“You fucking bastard,” Ben fumed with resignation. “I can’t believe you sometimes.” Mike merely grinned.
So Ben picked up the dildo and strapped it on over his hips. It jutted out in front of him, long and thick and black, obscuring his own silver-coated cock that sat tucked down behind it. He lubed it up and, none too gently, pushed it into Mike’s ass. Mike gasped a bit as his hole stretched to accommodate Ben’s artificial penis, then let out a satisfied moan as Ben thrust it in deep.
“Oh, yeah… hold it there, that’s it, hold it in nice and deep…” Ben complied, pressing his hips into Mike’s ass cheeks, a motion that his body associated with the satisfying feeling of a tight warm hole embracing the sides of his cock. But his cock felt… nothing. His brain was telling him that he should be feeling sensations from his dick, but there were none to be had.
“Now in and out,” Mike commanded. “Nice and slow.”
Again, Ben complied, not because he had to but because there was no reason not to. As he pushed the fake dong forward and back, he was again struck by the conflicting sensations, feeling the motion of his leg muscles that his brain associated with approaching sexual fulfillment, but getting absolutely nothing from his locked-up dick. He couldn’t even feel his balls pressing up against Mike’s skin – the harness and the chastity cage kept them away.
“That’s it,” Mike moaned. “A little faster now.”
The clamps had been on his tits for a little while now. While picking up the the pace of his thrusting, Ben reached down and swiped them off. Mike’s eyes flew open and he gasped at the sudden shock. Ben kneaded the nubs with his fingers, then replaced the clamps, rotated so as to squeeze the opposite direction. Mike moaned even more as they bit down.
“Yeah, fuck me,” he groaned. “Fuck me with that fat, hard cock”.
Ben did, accelerating the tempo to plow the black shaft deep into Mike’s ass then yank it out until the tip almost emerged, over and over in a motion that should have brought Ben to a climax himself but instead was only bringing pleasure to the man on the other end of the dick. Without being directed to, Ben took hold of Mike’s cock and started pumping it. Mike’s moans doubled in volume and Ben upped the frequency of his pistoning hips just a hair.
“You are just a human fuck machine, you know that?” Mike crooned. “Just a machine, delivering dick at the speed I want it. A dick-delivery device, feeling nothing for yourself. A fuckbot. Fucktoy. Just a machine, just a fucking machine…”
Ben hadn’t noticed before, or if he had he’d never paid attention, but he realized now that fucking was actually pretty tiring work. Every other time he’d done it, there was a such a reward attached to it that he never cared how much effort was involved. Now, with his dick shut away and only the fake black imposter making contact, he became aware that this activity was just a lot of boring repetitive motion. Machine-like. Exactly what Mike had described him as.
Why not? He settled into the role. Sure, he’d be a fuckbot, a machine tuned to satisfy its owner’s desires without needing to be told what they were. He kept his strokes smooth and steady, each one exactly like the last, coming at the same rhythm and sinking to the same depth. He disregarded the steadily-building tiredness of his legs: machines did not tire. His cock kept straining at its cage, but he ignored that too – his role was to fuck, not to derive pleasure from the fucking.
Without warning, Mike’s cock pulsed and spat, spraying semen up to his chin then shooting out several more bursts onto his chest. Ben kept up the pistoning motion as well as the stroking of Mike’s dick until Mike’s moans changed to cries of distress and he began to thrash at the overstimulation. Still Ben persisted until Mike finally said the keyword: “Stop”. Only then did he slow down, release Mike’s dick and, after one final, hip-deep plunge, pull the dildo all the way out of Mike’s ass.
“Machines don’t stop just because you come, you know,” he said. “You have to remember to turn them off.”
Mike let out a burst of laughter, a single explosive sound. “OK, machine, how about taking the tit clamps off?”
Ben cocked his head and put his fingers to his chin, pretending to consider his options, then reached down and removed them. Mike grimaced as the blood started flowing again. “I still owe you about four hours of tit torture, but I will save it for later,” Ben said. “Some time in, say, November.”
Ben picked up Mike’s shirt from the table and used it to wipe the spunk off Mike’s chest while Mike unclipped the wrist restraints from the chains. Once cleaned and dried, he leaned forward to detach his ankles. Ben bent down to pick up his own clothes and began to dress.
“It’s been a couple of days since your last washing,” Mike said, reclining in the sling now that all four limbs were free. “You want me to unlock you and clean you up down there?”
Ben spun to face him, pants halfway up his legs. “HEY! You said you mailed away the key!”
“I did!” Mike protested. “I did mail… one of them.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve got a spare.”
Ben threw the cum-soaked shirt at Mike’s face.
Tuesday, October 15
12:34PM (Ben) We’re halfway through the month. Not that I’m complaining, but you did say something about “two or maybe three times” and so far there hasn’t even been one… ?
12:34PM (Ben) Again, not complaining because I know if I do you’ll just make my situation worse somehow. So… not complaining, just making a casual observation that half of October has passed.
12:38PM (Mike) You’re right. You’re due. What does your weekend look like?
12:41PM (Ben) Friday night “team building” exercise i.e. “suck up to the boss and try to make it bearable with beer”
12:42PM (Ben) Hiking trip on Saturday with Amy and family (and yeah, I’m happy to not be wearing that heavy iron thing for a four-hour hike!)
12:42PM (Ben) Sunday all clear. You?
12:57PM (Mike) Sunday works. Come over in the afternoon. And bring work clothes for Monday – plan to spend the night.
12:58PM (Mike) I promise you’ll get what you’ve been craving.
Wednesday, October 16
8:31AM (Ben) I’m amazed at how much easier the nights have become. I never thought I’d be saying this, but I’m actually getting used to the wee-hour wakeups… and they’re not even waking me up all that much any more, some nights not at all.
8:34AM (Mike) All part of my sinister plan, heh heh heh.
Friday, October 18
6:23PM (Ben) This sucks! Too many heteros!
6:24PM (Mike) Ah, yeah. Hangin’ with the hets. Bro banter. Forced socializing with people you have nothing in common with except physical proximity 40 hours a week.
6:27PM (Ben) This week it’s 40 hours plus two more. On a Friday night, no less!
6:28PM (Mike) That’s just sadistic.
6:29PM (Ben) Sadistic, yeah, and not in the good way.
6:31PM (Ben) Can sure think of a way I’d rather be spending this time. We’re still on for Sunday, right?
6:34PM (Mike) I’ve got the key ready and waiting for you. Have fun with your sister and nephews tomorrow.
Sunday, October 20
“Strip.”
Ben was still standing in the entryway of Mike’s home, but promptly shucked off all the clothes he was wearing until only artificial item he wore was the shiny metal cock sheath. Mike fastened a leather collar around his neck, then attached his wrists to the sides of the collar.
“Upstairs.”
Ben meekly climbed the creaky staircase to the second floor and stood in the bathtub while Mike pulled out the key and unlocked the cage. Slowly he slid it down and away, unleashing a rank aroma into the room. Mike turned on the water and let it warm up while he removed the base ring. Unlike previous washings, Ben’s cock did not swell and thicken during the process. Mike took note of this but did not remark on it. Soon enough, Ben’s groin had been lathered up and rinsed off and the smell began to fade away.
“On the bed,” Mike commanded.
Ben laid himself down and waited while Mike attached his legs to the corners of the under-bed harness, then released his wrists from the neck collar and stretched his arms out to the bed’s other corners. Mike set a blindfold in place over Ben’s eyes and settled himself on the bed next to him in the space near Ben’s exposed ribs and armpit.
“Before we begin,” he said, “I want to have a little talk. I notice your dick is still soft. Do you have any thoughts on why that is?”
Ben chewed his lip for a moment before replying. “I dunno. The week before last I was pretty much constantly on edge, getting hard all the time, even at work, and it was great because I knew it wouldn’t show because the tube would stop my dick from tenting out my pants. So I’d be daydreaming in a meeting or standing in line for lunch and all I could think about was men, men, men. I’d be watching porn, groping my balls even though the cage wouldn’t let me get hard, but still all revved up. Then we had that fuck session last week, and I was horny during that and for a little while after. But then, by the next morning, the feeling had ebbed away, and for the whole rest of the week, I didn’t really think about my cock. Not during work, not outside work. I haven’t even felt like watching porn lately. I don’t know why that is. I was thinking that once I got here, once the cage came off and we started getting into it, it’d stiffen up, but…” His voiced trailed away.
“I have a possible explanation,” Mike said, beginning to trace idle patterns across Ben’s chest with his fingers. “I think it’s because your dick has finally recognized that it doesn’t belong to you any more. It has a new owner. Your dick belongs to me now.”
He let the words sink in for a moment, still gently stroking Ben’s skin.
“Think about it. Your dick has spent the last twenty days locked up. During that time, it has tried to get hard dozens of times. When you’re awake, when you’re asleep, when you’re thinking about sex, when you’re thinking about something else. Every single time, it has been thwarted… except when I have allowed it. When you’re apart from me, it has not been possible for you to get hard, and your body has finally gotten the message. Your body knows that trying to get hard will not succeed, that it will only result in frustration. It has been trained to associate erections with futility. And so it has stopped trying. It has been conditioned.
“Then last weekend, I had you fuck me with a substitute dick while your own stayed locked up tight. All your horniness got channeled through the silicone shaft instead of the one you were born with. And your brain found it could work just fine thinking sexual thoughts without the participation of your dick. Your body learned that it doesn’t need to get hard to have a sexual experience. So you went away, sated just as if you had shot a load yourself. You had a satisfying yet non-orgasmic time and your dick has learned that its participation wasn’t required. It wasn’t needed. It has learned to submit to the cage. It has accepted that erections are impossible.”
He slid his hand down and began to fondle Ben’s cock and balls, hanging open and exposed between his spread legs. And with his touch, blood began to stir where no stirring had occurred until that moment. “Or, more accurately,” Mike purred as he felt the first swelling beneath his fingers, “erections are impossible unless I permit them.” Blood continued to pour in and Ben’s dick began to fill and stiffen. “And when I permit an erection, I don’t merely permit it, I require it. When I want you to get hard, you will get hard. When I want you to shoot a load, you will shoot a load. And when I want you soft again, then soft is what you will be. You have no choice, no say in it at all. Your dick belongs to me now.” The appendage in question was now standing straight upright, nestled in the embrace of Mike’s curved fingers and palm. “You don’t get to decide what happens to it. I do.”
Ben’s hips began bucking and thrusting, attempting to fuck Mike’s hand, which Mike pulled away and out of reach.
“See that?” Mike asked. “Your dick knows. Thirty seconds ago you were wondering why you couldn’t get it up. You were nervous, thinking that maybe you had gone impotent, wondering if maybe the cage had somehow damaged you. But it wasn’t damage the cage was doing, it was training. Your dick can respond just fine, as demonstrated by the fact that you’re now so horny you’re humping the air. What made the difference is that I want you hard, I want you horny. And so in thirty seconds you have been transformed from sexless drone to hormone-drenched beast. Your weeks in chastity have trained your body to respond to my will. Not to yours. Your body knows that I am now in charge of your erections and your orgasms. It responds to me, not you.” He squeezed, hard. “This dick is my dick now.”
“Yes sir…” Ben groaned. The “sir” came out a mere whisper, but it was there.
“Now what we’re going to do here tonight is: I am going to rev my dick” – he squeezed again to emphasize which of his two dicks he was referring to – “up again like it was when I edged it a couple of weeks ago. I am going to bring my dick to the brink of orgasm over and over without letting it shoot. But unlike before, tonight I am eventually going to take it all the way, and my dick is going to shoot a load like it’s never shot in its life. During this time, you are going to be lying here feeling the sensations from my dick. To help you focus on those sensations, you’ve got this blindfold on to block out any visual distractions. And when we’re done talking, I will put in some earplugs, which I will cover with headphones that will be playing white noise. And I will be putting a gag in your mouth, the kind that fills your mouth and covers the entire bottom half of your face. You will be disconnected from the world. The only sensations you will feel will be the ones radiating out from my cock… the cock that has submitted to me… the cock that now responds to my will, not to yours. Any questions before we begin?”
Ben shook his head. His – or rather, Mike’s – cock stood at full attention, aching for its master’s touch. The earplugs and gag went in; the headphones went on. Ben was sealed away from the world with nothing to do but feel the sensations Mike’s dick offered him.
Mike started out slow and took a long time to ramp up the intensity. He stroked and pulled, squeezed and massaged. He used soft, thick cream that he slathered up and down the throbbing shaft and smeared all over the pulsating head. He varied the intensity, keeping Ben’s attention focused on the sensation but not letting him get into a rhythm. He took long breaks during which he devoted attention to Ben’s nipples or arms or belly or legs. But always the focus would return to Mike’s cock, straining towards the ceiling from between Ben’s thighs.
Closer and closer to the tipping point, nearer and nearer to the edge. Mike could tell each time Ben would get close because the cock would swell in his hand and he would let go to let it bob helplessly in the air, desperately seeking any source of friction to send it that last fraction of the way over. But Mike was an expert and never let him get close enough to go. No ruined orgasms, no partial dribbles of cock phlegm – when the moment came, it would come full-force.
It was not quite an hour and a half in when Mike decided that it was time at last to grant his cock release. Nothing changed in the motion of his hand (now quite sore and tired after such a long effort!), and there was no way to be certain when the point came when Ben realized that this was finally going to be the climax he had been anticipating for nearly three weeks. After so many false alarms, the cock had been trained to expect letdown. Just as the chastity cage had trained it to associate attempted erections with frustration, the relentless edging sessions had taught it to associated impending climax with sudden sensory withdrawal. It had to be coaxed into believing that this time was for real, that the beautiful warm embrace that was currently driving it toward explosion would really keep going this time and not quit before the point of no return was reached as had happened so many times before.
As a result, Ben spent what felt like weeks right on the very lip of the precipice, teetering forever on an edge that he could not quite cross. Mike could tell by the way his entire body strained upward, muscles clenched and knotted, breath coming in ragged gasps when it came at all, arms and legs stretching helplessly against the restraints that held him pinned as he mewed plaintively into the gag. Mike’s cock was full to bursting in his hand, so engorged with hot blood that it fairly burned his palm, sending “now? now? now now now now now?” signals to Ben’s brain until at last the moment arrived.
With a gigantic heave, Ben’s entire body convulsed and a jet of sperm shot out from Mike’s second cock so hard that it struck the wall above Ben’s head. Another jet followed only an instant later, this one landing on the leather gag with a wet splat. Mike’s cock kept pulsing out load after load, forming thick white puddles on Ben’s abdomen. Ben let out a guttural moan perhaps two-thirds of the way through his orgasm, his breathing starting up again as the electric shocks charging through his nervous system began to dissipate.
Mike kept pumping. The cock spasmed and jerked in his hand, then finally began to relax. Still Mike stroked. Ben’s moan changed in pitch and he tugged still harder on his restraints. He began to pitch back and forth, to the sides, up and down, anywhere to escape what was fast becoming a pummeling onslaught of overstimulation. Still Mike persisted, letting up perhaps just a bit but continuing to stroke his cock with firm, solid strokes, paying special attention to the head every fifth or sixth pass. Ben’s moans became pleas and even a few screams, but they were muffled by the gag such that no intelligible words could escape and besides, Mike had no intention of stopping any time soon anyway.
At last enough time elapsed that the phase of hypersensitivity had ebbed and Ben’s frantic cries settled down to gentle moans. Mike’s dick had softened up a bit but was still somewhat more than half erect, stiff enough that Mike could keep pumping. His arm was tired indeed now and he shifted his weight so as to rest his elbow and move only his forearm and wrist, letting his tired upper arm muscles rest a bit.
Perhaps five minutes after the last sputters of orgasm had faded away, the turning point came: the half-mast cock in Mike’s hand began to swell again. It never quite regained the skin-straining tautness of ten minutes before, but it definitely attained a state of erectness. Mike’s hand continued sliding up and down his shaft, coaxing it to life once more. The residue of the previous climax was still melting into translucency on Ben’s belly and dribbling down the wall and off the bottom of the gag, but Mike kept up the drive toward a second one. Slow, steady pressure. Even, rhythmic stroking. Unlike the previous buildup, which had aimed toward denial and frustration in rising and falling cycles, this one was a straight ascent, slow and steady.
Ben clearly didn’t want to try to shoot again. But it was Mike’s cock now, and Mike wanted it to erupt a second time. And so Ben was dragged along against his will, unable to ignore the sensations radiating from his crotch that demanded his attention and forced him to cooperate in the effort.
Bit by bit, stroke by stroke, Mike’s cock drew closer and closer to another orgasm. Mike could feel it stiffening in his hand once again, but he kept up the same slow, steady stroking. His arm was aching and would no doubt be stiff and sore tomorrow, but he forced himself to keep going. Closer… closer… Ben’s breathing had once again begun to come in stutters and explosive gasps. He squirmed on the bed, stiffening his thighs and pulling hard on the restraints once more… and then, some fifteen minutes in, it came.
The second climax was nothing like the first. Mike’s cock pulsed in his hand but only a thin spray of liquid came out to join the existing puddle on Ben’s abs. Ben tensed and clenched like before, but in only half the time, it was over. Mike could feel his cock deflating like an opened balloon, losing bulk and rigidity until it slid out from between his fingers and thumb.
He wiped his hand on a T-shirt, then used the shirt to mop up the rest of the mess. Ben lay there, limbs splayed, still quivering with aftershocks. Mike lay down next to him and pulled a blanket over them both – the autumn nights were starting to get chilly and the room was much cooler than when they had first entered it. He lifted the headphones off Ben’s head but left the blindfold, earplugs, and gag in place.
“Can you hear me?” he asked. He spoke in a slightly louder than normal voice, not exactly shouting but more than a conversational volume. Ben nodded in reply and made a sound that might have been “uh huh”.
“Pretty soon I’m going to ask you to make a choice. Not right now. Take a few minutes to think about it. Remember how I told you back before this started that you’d get to come twice, maybe three times this month? Well, that was twice. The choice you need to make is: is it going to be three times?”
They lay in silence for a minute or two, Mike running his hands idly over Ben’s splayed chest.
“If you want to make it twice,” he continued, “then I’ll put the cage back on now. If you want to make it three times, I’ll give you a couple hours’ break and then we’ll start again. Maybe I’ll blow you – I know you enjoy that and besides, my arm is tired. And then I’ll put the cage back on a little while after your third load comes out. No matter which you choose, though, you’re going to be spending the night here, with me, just like this, stretched out in a taut spread-eagle with your eyes, ears, and mouth all plugged up. I bet that prospect would make that dick stir if I hadn’t just drained it dry.”
A few more minutes of idle silence passed as they felt the warmth slowly seep back into their bodies, the blanket absorbing their body heat and re-radiating it back to them. After perhaps ten minutes, at a point where he was nearly ready to doze off, Mike roused himself and told Ben it was decision time. “Grunt three times for three orgasms, anything else for two.”
Three clear, distinct grunts emerged from Ben’s muffled mouth.
Mike chuckled. “You got it, pal. Sleep now. I’ll wake you when it’s time.” The headphones went back on and Mike pulled a pillow over to rest his head on so he wouldn’t cut off the circulation in Ben’s arm by lying on it. He dozed off. Ben probably did too, but Mike was out cold and didn’t notice.
Orgasm Number Three came at about 2:00 in the morning. Mike had stirred around 1:30 to find Ben breathing deeply and evenly beside him, snug and warm under the blanket. He crept down, trying not to rouse Ben, and took the limp dick in his mouth. His tongue began moving and Ben’s… Mike’s… dick responded, swelling and puffing up. Within a minute or two it was stiff enough that he could start sucking in earnest, lips and tongue sliding up and down the shaft. At some point Ben must have awakened because he was cooperating as best he could, straining his legs, thrusting his hips, pushing himself toward his third climax of the night. When it came, there was very little physical evidence. A few ragged drops spurted into Mike’s mouth and very soon, the spent cock was flagging and drooping, an exhausted soldier ready to head back into his barracks.
Mike obliged it. The base ring went on easily and the tube slid smoothly down over the shaft. With a tiny snap, the lock clicked back into place and the little soldier was safely secured once more. Mike got up and unfastened the restraints, and Ben gratefully pulled his limbs in to his body for the first time in hours. Off came the blindfold, the headphones, the earplugs, the gag. Mike slid back under the blanket and the two men snuggled together, trying to replace the heat that had been lost while they had been distracted with other pursuits.
“What about you?” Ben murmured into the darkness.
“We’ll take care of that in the morning,” Mike replied. “I’ve got something in mind.”
Monday, October 21
They woke again at 6:00 AM. Ben was due at work at 8, and Mike worked from home and set his own schedule, which gave them plenty of time. Each took a turn in the shower, although Ben’s dick was kept in its prison and so didn’t get washed. They shared a breakfast, and then…
“Now it’s time for my turn,” Mike informed Ben. “I want you back up on the bed, lying on your back. Use your hands and your mouth to get me off, but when I shoot, make sure it lands on your chest, right between your pecs. Then, I want you to rub it in, all over. I haven’t shot in over a week, so there should be a lot for you to work with. You’re going to smear it all over your chest, all over the top half from the midline up to your collarbone, from one armpit to the other. Then you’re going to lie back and wait until it dries, at least 20 minutes.”
Mike could feel his dick getting hard as he spoke, watching Ben strip his clothing off before lying down. He wondered whether his other dick – the one in the metal sheath attached to Ben’s pelvis – was also trying to stiffen, or if it was too spent from the activities of the night before.
“All day at work, you’ll be wearing my mark,” Mike continued, climbing up to kneel over Ben’s body, straddling his chest with his dick pointing straight at Ben’s mouth. “You’ll be smelling my scent all day long, wafting up to your nose from underneath your shirt.” Ben began to lick and stroke. “Every time you move, every time you stretch or turn to the side, you’ll feel the crispy crackling of my juice dried into your chest hairs and pulling on them as you change position. You are not to wash it off until at the earliest 8:00 tonight. You will spend a minimum of twelve hours publicly wearing evidence that you are my cum dump.”
“Mmmmm… khhir, yehhh hhhhir!” Ben mumbled from around Mike’s cock.
It only took a few minutes for Ben’s liquid garment to emerge, ready to be dried and worn.
Tuesday, October 22
7:44AM (Ben) Hope you don’t mind, sir, but I left the “undershirt” you gave me on until this morning. Wanted to keep feeling it all night.
7:46AM (Mike) Ha. Not a problem… boy. Glad you enjoyed it.
7:46AM (Ben) It lost some of its crackle over the course of the day. But I knew it was there all the same. Loved it.
7:48AM (Mike) Good boy.
Wednesday, October 23
3:56PM (Ben) Need anything tonight, sir? I’d be happy to drop by if so.
9:33PM (Mike) Nope. Thanks for the offer, but I’m all set.
9:44PM (Mike) Come by tomorrow after work for a cleaning.
9:47PM (Ben) Just a cleaning, sir? <wink>
9:47PM (Mike) Ha! OK, maybe a wash AND a wax!
9:48PM (Ben) Whatever you say, sir!
Friday, October 25
9:15AM (Ben) Thanks for letting me, um, “help” you with that swelling you were having last night, sir. Wish you would have let me go all the way to a solution. As it is, I think I only made the problem worse!
9:18AM (Mike) Ha! Whatever meeting you’re in must be pretty boring. But yeah, I wanted to save it up. Got something planned for the end of the month.
9:20AM (Mike) Sure is nice to have the choice as to whether to save it up.
9:24AM (Ben) I wouldn’t know, sir!
Tuesday, October 29
Ben stopped by after work to have his cock cleaned once more before the end of the month. Mike greeted his friend at the door.
“How’s my dick doing, boy?”
“Good, sir.”
“Staying out of trouble, I hope?”
“Yes, sir. No trouble, sir.”
“Good boy. Come on upstairs.”
Ben stripped without being told when they reached the bathroom and submitted meekly to being restrained in the metal bar that kept his wrists cuffed over his shoulders to either side of his neck. He stood in the tub and waited while Mike unlocked the cage and slid the metal sheath off. Ben’s cock did not react at all to being exposed to the open air, remaining soft and relaxed. Mike released the head from the small rubber noose and sprayed it with warm water from the hand-held shower nozzle. The soft nub of flesh still did not stir; this process had become nearly as routine, and as un-erotic, as taking a leak. Mike soaped it up, rinsed it off, toweled it dry, and had it locked back up again in under two minutes.
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Now. While you’re here, I want to talk about what’s going to happen two nights from now. Halloween. The last day of Locktober.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be setting you free just after midnight. Before that happens, though, I’d like to propose something to you. Don’t feel like you have to do it. But I’d find it really hot if you did. It’ll take a while to set up, so you’d need to take the afternoon off from work, maybe even the whole day. Is that possible?”
“It should be, sir. I’ll check.”
“Good. Because here’s what I have in mind…”
Thursday, October 31
The first of the trick-or-treaters arrived at 6:01. There were no official rules about when it was OK for small children (and more than a few larger ones) to start canvassing the streets soliciting handouts, but there were a few unwritten neighborhood guidelines. Only go to houses that had their porch lights on; have at least a token costume on; and try to keep the panhandling to between 6 and 8 PM. Mike usually wasn’t much into Halloween. He would set a pumpkin (not a jack-o-lantern; carving took too much work) out by the front door and would sometimes hang some fake cobwebbing over the door. This year, though, he had put more effort into the decorations. There were plastic tombstones in the yard and cobwebs hanging from the trees, complete with large black spiders nestling in them. There was an infrared beam sensor set up at ankle level across the front walkway that triggered a maniacal laugh whenever the beam was broken by passing legs. Orange mini-lights gleamed in the bare trees and fake bats fluttered their wings whenever a breeze blew through.
And on the porch was a life-sized mummy, stiff as a board and propped up to lean against the wall, buried among cornstalks and hay bales. Its face and body were completely shrouded by grey strips of fabric, the ends of which hung raggedly from the figure’s limbs and torso.
When those first trick-or-treaters arrived, they pressed the doorbell and were startled when the mummy a few feet away emitted a very realistic-sounding groaning noise. Two of them, a little princess and a pint-sized Captain America, jumped a bit and the princess let out a squeal of surprise. But then the door swung open and the group chorused out their “trick or treat!” line, and Mike distributed candy to the charming cherubs as the mummy lapsed once more into silence. He didn’t spare a glance for it, but closed the door when the kids had gone on their way.
And so it went for the next two hours. Kids would come in bunches, and sometimes multiple bunches would all come at once like waves overlapping in the ocean. Every time the doorbell rang, the mummy would let loose with its eerie moan. Some of the adults gave it a wary eye, as if suspecting something were not quite right about it. Was that thing actually breathing? No, surely just a trick of the wind ruffling the bandages. Mike caught one of the moms at the door looking openly at the mummy’s groin area, which did indeed bulge out rather more prominently than one might expect from a kid-themed party decoration, as though someone had placed extra padding there when putting the thing together. He smiled to himself after the group had departed.
After 7:30, the rate of visitors slowed to a trickle. Instead of large groups, there were duos or triads. The last arrived at 7:50, a young hobo and his mermaid consort. 8 PM arrived and Mike assumed that would be it for the night, but he waited until 8:15 just to be sure. At quarter past the hour, he turned out the porch light and went outside, ringing the doorbell as he passed it. The mummy groaned as it had with every previous press.
He walked over to the mummy, bent down, and disconnected a pair of wires that trailed down from the mummy’s waist, through the hay, and back into the house. Bending to drag and manhandle it toward the door, he breathed into its ear. “You have no idea how fucking hot it was to know you were out here all that time.”
With great effort, he got the mummy in through the door and locked it behind him. He lugged it into the kitchen and set about removing the grey fabric from every place except the head. As the strips came away, they revealed various medical-style prefabricated casts on its limbs along with coatings of plaster at some of the larger joints, joining the separate casts together into one immobilizing whole. Removing the plaster took some effort and the thin whine of a power saw soon filled the air. Bit by bit, limbs were set free and were allowed to move again after hours of enforced stillness. The hood, however, remained on, still covered in ragged fabric strips.
“I want to fuck you,” Mike said. “I want to fuck you with your anonymous face and your locked-up dick.”
Ben only moaned in response – he was incapable of making recognizable words through the gag that filled his mouth underneath the hood that the carefully-arranged fabric strips had hidden from view for the last several hours. Judging by the tone, the words might have been something like “yes, sir, please fuck me sir”.
Up to the bedroom, trailing flecks of plaster all through the hallway and up the stairs. Mike threw a blanket over the bed then pushed Ben down onto it, face up with his legs hanging over the sides. Mike lifted Ben’s legs and then carefully, slowly, pulled the electrified butt plug out of Ben’s ass. Connecting the e-stim unit to the doorbell had been a fairly trivial piece of electronics work – with every press of the button, the e-stim unit sent pulses of current in through Ben’s ass and out through the metal cock cage for ten seconds, then switched off again to await the next press. Out came the plug, its job finished; Mike slipped a condom over his already-hard cock, lubed it up, then propped Ben’s ankles up on his shoulders and pressed himself in toward Ben’s ass.
The hole received him eagerly, having been stretched open for so long. Mike barely had to pause at the opening before plunging deeply down inside. He held himself at the point of maximum insertion, then pulled back and began to stroke. The locked-up dick in front of him swelled with his motions until it was straining at its confinement. It throbbed in time with each thrust, as if Mike’s two dicks were a single unit, connected together into one physical whole via a bridge through Ben’s guts. Each push of Mike’s hips pressed his original dick into his acquired one like a tongue pressed against a cheek, forcing the captive one to bulge outward into the encircling metal tube. Mike pushed in, pulled out, over and over, drilling into his friend’s hole for five, ten minutes while Ben whimpered and moaned on the bed. Ben’s hands kept creeping to his crotch, encountering the metal there that thwarted any attempt at stimulation before falling away again.
“That’s right, can’t touch yourself, can you?” Mike grunted. “Don’t bother trying. You just focus your attention on pleasing my cock in your ass, boy, not my cock in the cage, aw, fuuuuuuuuuukkkkkkkkk…” Mike’s words trailed off into an incoherent growl as cock juice squirted into the condom’s reservoir. He buried himself hilt-deep in the warm opening, pressing deeply through the last throbbing blasts of his orgasm and savoring the aftershocks as they trembled through his body.
At last, sated, he pulled out. Stripping off the condom and discarding it, he lay down briefly, awkwardly, on top of Ben, his hips pressed into Ben’s ass with Ben’s legs still raised up into the air. He groped at the captive cock – still stiff – and nipped at Ben’s tits with his teeth. At last, standing, he reached down to the inert boy on the bed. “C’mon,” he said. “Up you go. Let’s get that hood off you and get you showered up.”
By the time Ben had emerged from the shower, finally free of plaster bits, the clock read 11:40. He didn’t bother dressing but lay on the bed next to Mike, who trailed his fingers idly across Ben’s chest.
“Twenty minutes to freedom,” Mike remarked. Ben said nothing.
After a minute or so, Mike reached down to inspect the dick in the cage. It was calm, quiescent.
Another few minutes passed.
“I can’t help but notice,” Mike observed, “that you don’t seem like someone who is excited about nearing the end of his chastity sentence.”
More silence.
“Hey. Ben,” Mike said. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
It still took Ben a while to marshal his thoughts into words, but eventually he spoke. “I’m kind of disoriented. I’m realizing I’m not the same person I thought I was before this started. And I’m not sure what’s going to happen next. Sir.”
“I think I’m not too surprised,” Mike said. “But go on.”
“You know what things were like before this month,” Ben said. “We took turns at various roles in our play. We’d slide easily from top to bottom and back, sometimes within a single scene. We didn’t really have fixed roles. There were times we’d both be tied up together, like that time when I had you in a hogtie, then handcuffed myself to the support pole, remember? Sitting down with my hands behind my back?”
“Yeah,” Mike smiled. “One handcuff key was over your head, frozen in a chunk of ice. The other was all the way across the room on the far side of the basement. My challenge was to get myself across the room to fetch the key, bring it back, and unlock you before the ice melted and you could free yourself. Damn, that floor was dirty! I felt like I needed three showers after worming my way across it and back.”
“You did it, though,” Ben said. “You brought the key back and opened the cuffs with your teeth and you won the challenge, and as I recall you very much enjoyed your reward afterward.”
“I did,” Mike said. “That was a very satisfying blow job. I’m glad I didn’t re-cuff your hands because you did such wonderful things to my balls with your fingers while your tongue was taking care of my cock.”
“Yeah, good times, good times… but the point is: if I had won, I would have enjoyed having you work your mouth magic on me instead of the other way around, and I would have taken pleasure in dominating you. But now… now I’m not so sure I could do that any more.”
“I mean,” he continued, “at the start of this month I was a lion. I agreed to let you cage me, but I fought the cage. The cage was external, oppressing me, and I just needed to make it through the month and be a free lion again. Then, as the days passed, I got used to the cage. By about a week in, maybe ten days, I was more like a porcupine than a lion – not a prey animal, but no longer a predator either. I was still waiting for the cage to come off, but I wasn’t fighting it any more. It was just part of the environment.”
He took a deep breath before continuing. “And now, here at the end where I’m only minutes away from finally getting the freedom I craved so badly during that first week, I find… I’m afraid…” The words all came out in a rush. “I wonder if I don’t really want it anymore and that thought scares the hell out of me.”
Mike completed the metaphor for him. “You’re worried that you’ve become a rabbit. Transformed completely into a prey animal. The cage is safety and protection.”
“Yes,” Ben whispered. “I’m so torn, because part of me wants that. Part of me wants you to tell me that you’ve decided to extend my sentence until the end of the year, and we’ll revisit at that time whether I should be released then or have my sentence extended even further. And I have these elaborate fantasies where you never release me, that you convert me into a slave or a pet or an object and my sole purpose in life is to satisfy whatever urge you want me to satisfy. I’ve been calling you ‘sir’ this past week or so, ever since that time you started referring to my dick as your dick, and then you made me wear your cum on my chest to work. God, what a head trip that was… and I’ve never called anyone ‘sir’. Not in a sexual context. And you never asked me to do it, and yet it felt right and so I did… and that’s not who I was a month ago and I… God, I don’t know what happened. It’s just a fucking chastity gadget! How did it get in and mess with my head?”
“I said earlier I wasn’t surprised,” Mike said, “and I want to clarify something about that. I did NOT mean ‘I have known all along that deep inside Ben there is a total pig bottom who has been waiting for a chance to come out’. That spending a month with your dick under my control brought out the ‘true’ you that you’ve been repressing all these years. That is not what I meant at all.
“What I meant was: I’m not surprised that you’d be feeling these feelings. Research has shown a clear link between a person’s mental and emotional state and their physical condition. We smile when we’re happy; we tense up with adrenaline when we’re scared. The thing is, the link works both ways. If you’re having a crappy day and you force the corners of your mouth up into a smile, you can actually make yourself feel happier. If you want to feel more confident, strike a confident pose: head up, chest out, back straight. Changing how you stand will literally change how you feel.
“You’ve spent a month with your cock locked in a cage. You have been physically dependent on me for erections and orgasms. It’s only natural that your emotional state would swing around to match. And of course I’ve played that up over the last month… telling you it’s my dick instead of yours, telling you to focus on my pleasure. So it’s not surprising that you’ve internalized that. In fact, it’d be surprising if you could just turn it off at the stroke of midnight.
He patted Ben’s locked-up dick. “But you’ll get your mojo back. It won’t happen right away, but I bet you’ll be domming it up again before too long.”
“So you’re not going to make me your full-time slave, then? Sir?” For the first time all night, a hint of playfulness crept back into Ben’s voice. A hint of playfulness, but also a hint of relief and even of wistfulness, as though looking in the rearview mirror at the turnoff to a road not taken, a road that would have led to fascinating unexplored places but that could only be traveled in one direction.
“Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how much work keeping a slave is??? I mean, sure, it sounds great, ‘oh, I’ve got this slave who’ll do anything I tell him to do’, but in reality it’s just work-work-work for me! I have a hard enough time managing my own life, I don’t want to manage yours as well. You think it was easy casing you up in plaster and schlugging twice your normal weight out to the front porch? Oy, my lumbago!” Ben cracked a smile “You think it was easy edging you to that mind-blowing climax on the bed the weekend before last? No it was not, buster, that was a chore, my arm was sore for days afterward, I couldn’t even jerk myself off, I was so tired from doing you! Next time you want to shoot a load after four hours of buildup, you go dig out that vibrator of yours! Oh, and I am totally sick and tired of cleaning your junk for you, so you can just get that thought out of your head if you think I’m going to keep doing it for months and months with no end in sight. I’m aspiring to bigger things, my friend. I don’t want to my resume to read ‘B.S. Structural Engineering, eight years experience municipal systems planning with excellent crotch washing skills’.”
Ben was actually laughing now, his belly convulsing with giggling spasms.
“And on top of all that, as if all that weren’t enough to deal with, I have to be your psychotherapist as well! Who’s got time for that, I ask you!”
Ben rolled to the side and kissed Mike, mostly just to get him to stop talking. “Point made”, he said, breaking away. “Thank you.”
“What we need to do,” Mike replied, “is have a little ceremony, I think. It is now” – he twisted to look at the clock – “12:04. The month of Locktober is over and it is time for me to formally hand control of this cock back to its rightful owner.” He reached into his nightstand drawer and withdrew a small brass key. “Your freedom. Sir,” he said, handing it over. Ben took it and lay back. He held it for a moment, looking at it, then reached down and inserted it into the lock. With a small snicking sound, the lock slipped open. He eased the metal sheath off, then the tiny noose, then finally the base ring. His cock lay limply on his month-long growth of pubic hair.
“And now,” Mike said, “my final order to you regarding your genitals – which you may choose to obey or disregard as you wish since you are once again a free agent – is this: you should stroke yourself off. You haven’t shot a load in ten days, and I would very much like to watch you pleasure yourself. And before you freak out about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if it took you a while to get hard. Your dick has spent the last month being punished and thwarted every time it tried to grow, so it’s gonna be a bit shy at first. But it’s important that you do it yourself without me helping, and I bet you can coax it to life with a little effort. And I would very much like to watch you make that effort.”
It did indeed take a few minutes for Ben’s dick to wake up, but wake it eventually did. Ben lay back, eyes closed, while Mike lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand. Ben pulled and tugged and stroked and soon enough, a small yet still significant load of semen pulsed out to land on his chest and belly. Mike reached out and smeared the result up to thinly coat the space between Ben’s nipples.
“There,” he said. “My mark on you is now washed away, replaced with your own. Your dick is once again fully under your control. Congratulations on successfully surviving Locktober!”
Ben laughed, one loud, long exhalation of breath that was still slightly shuddery from the aftereffects of orgasm. He lifted his slightly-sticky right hand to his forehead and gave a sloppy acknowledging salute. “You know,” he said, “it just now occurred to me of a way I could ‘get my mojo back’, as you phrased it. You haven’t, by any chance, touched your own dick in the last fifteen minutes or so, have you?”
Mike thought a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure not, in fact.”
“Well, then,” Ben responded. He reached down and found the recently-discarded chastity cage. “Your last orgasm was at least an hour ago, all the way back in October. It’s a brand new month now. What would you say to participating in ‘No-Nut November’ this year?”
Mike did not react at first, then slowly smiled. He said nothing in response but merely lay back, put his hands behind his head, and spread his legs wide apart.
“That’s my boy,” Ben said, rising up and bending over to fit the ring in place. “This will definitely help me dust off my dom side and get it back in shape.” He fit the noose in place and slid the enclosing sheath smoothly down.
“I hope that was a really good orgasm you had last month, because the memory of it is going to have to last you for the next thirty days,” Ben said, his words almost – but not quite – drowning out the tiny snick of the lock clicking shut.
POW's Fiction - Gay S&M Stories 
2 responses to “Locktober 2019”
Great story, thank you. have a chastity fantasy myself, if only!
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Awesome story! Really enjoyed this one.
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