A gay sex stories: How I Found a Keyholder Ch. 10 Author’s note: This is the end of this story, at least for now. In the elaborate outline I sketched out for this story (now over four years ago!) this section actually marks the halfway point, or the end of “Part I” overall. And of the two dozen story-segments on the rest of the outline, there are actually several in various states of completion. But life being what it is right now, I don’t think they’re going to make it onto the page any time soon. Someday, hopefully. And, probably, there will be other stories to come before those. In any case, thanks for reading… and even if it’s been a while since I’ve posted a story, I do keep an eye out here and on my “special” email, so feel free to send along your thoughts, fantasies, lewd photos or requests for same. Cheers!
10.a: The end of privacy, part 1
I was naked, standing just inside the side-door to my apartment building. My clothes, wallet and phone were locked in the heavy camping cooler I was holding in front of me. They’d been locked there all weekend long while I was out on a road trip, serving as a sort of bondage slave to my friend James while he was attending a comic convention.
I had just found out, when James had dropped me off, that he never even had the key to the lock on the cooler! One of Sir’s blue-shirted couriers had it, and was presumably about to give it back to me after letting me into the building.
Or it wouldn’t be quite that simple.
“I’ll meet you up by your door,” he said, turning to walk away from me. “I’m taking the elevator.”
And I guess I’m taking the stairs.
Sneaking up and down high-rise stairwells was not something I thought I’d be getting used to, but it was something I’d done a bunch over the past three months since I’d found my keyholder. It felt a bit more dangerous to be doing it in my own building, though. If I get caught, could I get evicted? Let’s try not to find out.
On top of that, I was not in a state where I was relishing climbing eight floors. I’d been in bondage for most of the weekend, and my buttocks were still stinging from an intense spanking James had given me at a pit stop on the way home. Plus, this damn cooler was getting heavier with each half-flight of stairs.
Or maybe I should be thankful for my grousing, as it kept me from worrying too much and in the end, I was soon peeking out down the eighth-floor hallway from the stairwell. Down near the far end I could see the dude in the blue shirt waiting by my door.
Well, hopefully no one else is going to be getting home just now, I thought as I pulled the door open with my elbow and stepped out into the hallway. Luck was with me, though who knows, of course, if anyone was looking through their peepholes as I went by.
I was worried that we’d have to be standing in the hallway for a couple minutes now, as I assumed the dude would unlock the cooler, and then I’d have to dig around in my clothes to find my keys and get inside. But as I got to my door, I realized something wasn’t right. The deadbolt lock was gone, and there was a numeric keypad in its place.
Wait, what?
“I have a single-use code for this,” he said as he punched in five digits on the pad. “You’ll be assigned your own code after.”
Assigned a code… to get into my own apartment? What’s going on?
The lock clicked and the guy opened the door for me. I stepped in to the little entrance hallway inside, and again, something was off.
Why is my chest of drawers out here?
The guy, of course, didn’t know what my apartment was supposed to look like, so he wasn’t fazed. As I set the cooler down and peered around, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key on a plain key ring and handed it to me. “Can you empty that out right away? I’m supposed to take it with me.”
I grabbed the key and crouched to unlock the cooler. I started grabbing the folded clothes in there, and then looked over. Beside the chest of drawers was a new piece of furniture, a bench-like thing a couple feet wide with an extra lower shelf. Conveniently placed to put clothes on, but I didn’t give that any more thought as I pulled all my stuff from the cooler, setting my phone on the chest of drawers as I finished.
After putting the padlock and key in his back pocket, the dude pulled out his phone. “Just gotta get a picture to show I’ve done the job,” he said, snapping a picture of me. Then he gestured for me to turn my right hip toward him so he could get a shot of the QR code tattooed there.
“Great, that’s all I need.” Without any further comment, he closed the cooler lid, picked it up, turned and left. As the door closed behind him, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before trying to assess what was going on here.
Okay. So, for some reason, my chest of drawers had been moved from my bedroom and was now across from the closet in my entryway. And there was an envelope on top with my name on it which I snatched and tore open. There was a note inside. Unaddressed, but obviously from Sir.
“SOME ADJUSTMENTS HAVE BEEN MADE TO YOUR APARTMENT TO BETTER SUIT YOUR ROLE.
“YOUR CODE TO YOUR APARTMENT DOOR HAS BEEN TEXTED TO YOU.
“NEW RULE #1: YOU WILL BE NUDE AT ALL TIMES INSIDE THIS APARTMENT. NO EXCEPTIONS. WHEN ARRIVING FROM OUTSIDE, YOU WILL UNDRESS HERE. YOU WILL ONLY PUT ON CLOTHES IMMEDIATELY BEFORE LEAVING.”
That took a minute to sink in. Sir was extending his jurisdiction, and it was no longer enough for me to be naked when I was presenting myself to him at his place. And beyond that, he had changed the locks on my door! (I wondered for a second how he had gotten my keys to get in here, but I quickly realized there were quite a few times that I had left my keys unattended when I was at his place, so it would have been quite easy.)
Sir had already basically taken over my phone, and I had gotten used to that. Now, he was in charge of my apartment, and he’d presumably know exactly when I got home thanks to that electronic lock on the door.
I stood there for a minute to let that sink in. It left a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I realized it was a reaction similar to when I was being tied up and being fucked. It was that sense of recognition that I was being dominated. And as weird as all this was, I realized that I’d gotten off pretty much every other time I’d been dominated up to now.
The shock of all that had distracted me, but suddenly I remembered how sore and tired my body was. I wanted to stretch out on my couch, or maybe just go to bed. I grabbed my phone. Even if I hadn’t been using it, it hadn’t been charged since Friday, so it was only about five per cent charged. First thing, gotta get that plugged in.
I stepped around the corner into the living room. And then I stopped again to take stock as I tried to take in several things at once.
Because I was looking in that direction to get my charger, the first thing I saw was that my computer was gone. But there was a different computer tower in its place. But that got filed away for the moment.
The long wall opposite my picture window had been changed. My collectables were gone!
Yes, nerd that I am, I had put up several shelves to put my cool stuff on display. My hand-painted D&D figures from back in high school were there. I hadn’t been on a campaign in years, but they were important to me. I also had some action figures and other Star Wars collectibles on display — it had allowed me to sort my friends that were mocking me from my friends that were mocking me with love and respect. They were all gone.
In their place, the shelves were filled with my sex toys. The dildos, buttplugs and vibrators that were kept in the special chest in my bedroom closet were now on display. In fact, I noted there were some new ones there as well, including a couple particularly large dildos. There were some cuffs and bondage supplies I had never seen before, as well as a small heap of straps that I realized was a strap-on harness. (I’d find out a while later while looking in my bedroom that all my collectibles had been shifted to the chest that used to hold my sex toys, and it sunk in that I was being given a message as to what part of my life was quite literally out of the closet now.)
Most strikingly, my Empire Strikes Back poster was gone. It was my prized possession, an original theatrical poster that had been autographed by several of the cast members. One of the first things I did after getting my first “grown up” job was to get it properly framed, and I had it hung on the wall beside my shelves — it was the thing that would draw your eye when you came into the room.
It was gone, but there was something in its place. A photographic art print, which was about the same size, and equally well-framed. It looked like something that could have come from a gallery. Well, a kinky gallery, as it was an explicit photo. In the foreground was a sub on his knees, bowed down and facing away from the camera, hands bound behind his back. (If you leaned in and looked closely between his legs, you could see the glint of a ring around the sub’s balls, indicating he was probably in a chastity cage.) In front of him, and literally dominating the picture, was another nude man, hands on hips, looking down at the sub. His tremendous, thick cock was rigid and erect. Though not overly muscled, he radiated strength and confidence. You could tell from looking at the picture that he was in his right place, as was the sub, supplicating and ready to do his bidding.
I stared at the picture for a couple minutes. I had never seen anything, no piece of pornography that had turned me on so much. It was like someone had reached into my brain and illustrated this from my deepest fantasies. I knew that I should feel embarrassed that this was on open display in my living room, but I was in awe of it.
I lay down on my couch for a couple minutes and looked at the photograph. My balls ached, and the desire to jerk off, to stroke my cock, was stronger than I’d felt since I’d been locked up.
I almost dozed off there, but realized I needed to take a piss. As I got up, I was surprised that I wasn’t cold, being undressed. (Another discovery I’d make later was that I had a new thermostat, which had been programmed to keep my apartment a few degrees warmer at all times than it had been before.)
I walked back past the entryway to go to the bathroom, and as I reached over to flick its light on, I could feel there was something wrong with the space here as well. I looked around, and it took a second for it to hit me: the door was gone! In the place where you expected the most privacy, I was now being told to accept none.
There was a smaller change here as well: the framed animation cel that had been hanging here had been replaced by another photograph. It was of the same two men as the picture in my living room, but now the dom’s cock was soft… and he was pissing into the sub’s mouth. The sub’s hands were still bound behind his back and he was on his knees, head tilted back to receive his master’s piss, with a look of ecstasy on his face. Like its bigger partner it was beautifully composed and shot to give it a vividness beyond any mere porn shot.
And now it was hanging on the wall opposite my toilet. I’d be looking up at it every time I sat down to piss. As for now, I had to wait a minute before I could go, as my caged cock was hard and pushing against my cage.
I went on from the bathroom to my bedroom, and this time I was less surprised that the door here was gone as well. There was another photo hanging here, with the Master laying back in a bed, at repose, hands behind his head, and the sub curled up beside him, head resting on the Master’s hip, looking at his beautiful half-hard cock, either just about to start or just having finished servicing his Master. The sub’s cock cage was fully visible in this shot. As with the others, it conveyed a powerful sense of rightness, of two men both in their appropriate roles, and each happier for being in their proper place.
At this point, I looked at my bedside clock and realized how late it was, and all at once I was utterly exhausted. I went back through the apartment and shut out the lights. I grabbed my toiletries bag from the entryway, brushed my teeth, and finally remembered to plug my phone into the charger on my nightstand. I fell asleep quite quickly, images of the Master with his beautiful cock and his locked submissive bottom dancing through my head.
* * *
Monday morning, I woke up from a deep and satisfying sleep. The only thing that felt unusual was a sore rawness where by butt was rubbing against my sheets. With that, all the events of the past weekend flashed through my mind. Then I looked up and saw the new picture of the Master and sub hanging on my wall, and I suddenly remembered all my discoveries from last night, when I came home from my roadtrip and found that Sir had been making alterations to my apartment.
I didn’t have to be at work ’til after lunch, but I had slept in, so it was pretty much time to get ready and go. I still had enough time I didn’t have to rush my shower, which felt great, and was utterly necessary as I hadn’t showered all weekend. When I had dried myself, I headed back into my bedroom to get dressed before realizing I was no longer allowed to get dressed until I was leaving.
So, instead, I had a leisurely brunch in the nude. I found that there was one last new photograph in my kitchen: it was a closeup of the Master’s amazing cock above the sub’s face. The sub’s head was tilted back with his tongue sticking out, and it was coated with what looked like a full load of the Master’s semen. In fact, the last drop was clinging to his cock, just about to drip onto the waiting tongue below. Mmm, what an excellent meal.
While I was sniffing my milk to make sure it was still good, my phone buzzed; it was a text from the number that gave me Sir’s instructions.
“NEW RULE #2: YOU WILL ALWAYS ANSWER THE DOOR WHEN YOU’RE AT HOME”
I set the phone down and was choosing which cereal box to grab when there was a knock at the apartment door. That’s probably not a coincidence.
I was walking past the shelves of sex toys when it occurred to me that I’d be answering the door in the nude.
I got to the door and reflexively leaned in to look out the peephole — only to discover that it was now painted over. There was another knock at the door.
Fine, fine…
I opened the door a crack to peep out, and it was another dude in a collared blue shirt. I looked at him, trying to place his face as he pushed against the door. I stepped back to let him enter the apartment.
Blond guy, pornstar ‘stache… ah! He’s the guy I swapped shirts with!
“I just need a picture to confirm you answered the door,” he said, pulling out his phone. I let him take the picture, and then pivoted my right hip toward him so he could take a picture of my QR code as well.
“I’m also supposed to tell you you’re allowed to suck my cock if you want.”
I looked him up and down and licked my lips. “Yeah, I’d like to do that.”
I dropped to my knees and quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling out his cut cock and low-dangling balls. He had a bit of a sweaty smell, maybe from biking here.
I stroked his cock, feeling the smoothness of the shaft and the spongy flare of the head. While I kept touching his dick, I licked at his balls, around and under them, trying to taste some of that sweaty essence. He was half-hard by the time I started licking up and down his shaft.
I looked over at that new bench beside the chest of drawers. “You want to sit?” I asked.
He nodded and shuffle-stepped over, undoing the button on his fly and dropping his pants and boxers as he sat.
As he sat down, I remembered how turned on I was by the smell of the shirt he was wearing.
“Can I… er, sniff your armpits?” I asked, looking up at him.
He shrugged as if it made no difference to him, but when I stood up in front of him, he stretched his arms up over his head. I leaned forward and lowered my face in — held it there, inhaled. There was a bit less deodorant this time, and more of… him. It was fabulous. I breathed in again, then switched to his other armpit, which smelled as good.
“Fucking amazing,” I muttered.
I lingered there a little longer, but I didn’t want him to get bored, so I dropped back to my knees in front of him. I moved between his legs, and took the opportunity to run my hands up and down his strong thighs as I repeated my previous attentions to his balls before starting to lap at his cock again. As I about to start to properly suck him, I noticed that he had his phone out and he was filming me. I smiled up at him and took him in my mouth. Fully hard, he had a pretty typical cock, probably a bit less than six inches.
I started working up and down the shaft, slowly exploring how deep I could take him and still breathe without triggering my gag reflex — it turned out I could take most of it, so I settled into a groove, working up and down. Whenever I needed a deeper breath, I’d pull most of the way off, and then go back in deep, momentarily taking the tip of his shaft into my throat.
After a couple minutes, he moaned a couple times and shifted beneath me, so I tried to step it up a little. I was taking him less deep now, which meant I could give more suction with my mouth and really let my tongue work on the underside of his cockhead. I could guess from his breath he was getting close, so I pulled off to look up at him. “Do you want to come right in my mouth, or do you want to shoot on my face?”
I preferred the former, of course, but I thought he might want a classic money shot for his video.
“Yeah, I’m gonna do that,” he said as his free hand reached down to start stroking his slick cock. I leaned down to lick his balls while he finished himself, and after a few seconds I felt the one under my tongue hitch up and down. Showtime!
I leaned back and tilted up my face to give him a target, and quickly he was shooting jets of semen across my face and on my tongue. We both moaned.
When he was done, I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and theatrically swallowed, tasting his salty-bitter load, then showing him my empty mouth.
“So good,” I said, as I leaned in to start licking his cock clean. “Thank you.”
He let me clean him for a minute or so, then when he started fidgeting I moved back, giving him space to stand. He quickly pulled up boxers and pants. He gave me a nod, the turned and left.
I took a second to catch my breath and stood up. I hadn’t really registered it yet, but I saw that that there was a new mirror thoughtfully hung on the wall above the bench so I could check everything was correct when I was getting dressed. At the moment, though, I just saw a naked guy with come smeared around his face. I used a finger to scrape as much as I could into my mouth, then stepped over to the bathroom to wash my face.
Then, back over to the kitchen. That was a good breakfast, but I should still eat something. Out of habit, when I had my bowl of cereal I went and sat down at my computer desk, and then realized this was one of Sir’s changes I had put off investigating. My PC was gone, and there was a new computer tower in its place. It didn’t have a brand name on it — it looked like a custom job. I couldn’t even see the power switch.
You know what? I don’t even want to deal with this now. Instead, I went and sat at the table and checked my email and messages on my phone while I ate. Then it was time to get dressed for work. After some confused poking around, I found that my shirts and pants were all hanging in the entryway closet — even my laundry basket was in place on the closet floor, so everything I needed was right there. I sat on the new bench as I pulled my socks on, and when I stood up I checked myself in the new mirror to confirm I was ready to face the world. Just a regular guy in clothes, definitely not a naked sex freak!
As I walked to the elevator, everything felt a little strange, and I realized it was the clothes that felt weird on me. I’d been continuously naked for almost three days now — long enough to get used to it a little.
Work was mostly fine. I was shifting around in my seat more than usual, on account of my butt still feeling a little sore from that spanking yesterday. And there was a big stack of stuff on my desk I had to deal with — this was the consequence of having taken a weekend off. Someone was supposed to do most of this while I was away, but they’d gotten lazy, so I was stuck getting caught up. But at least that made the day rush by.
That evening I got home and got undressed and it felt… okay to get back to being naked. I was home.
Now, time to investigate this computer. How do you turn this damn thing on?
Slightly confused, I reached over and waggled the mouse, and the screen came to life.
The desktop picture was a hard, thick uncut cock. Okay, that’s new.
I was quickly lost in a sort of bizarro world — everything was familiar, but also off. Whoever had set this up had left things as mostly like my old setup, but then I’d run into a dead end. Like, there was a new toolbar in my web browser, indicating that there was a parental filter in place. I looked at my bookmarks, and the porn links I had hidden away a couple levels in were all gone. I tried opening one of them, typing in the URL from memory, and I just got a large “NO ENTRY” icon on a red page, telling me that website was blocked.
I checked the hard drive. I had an external one that had all my music, and movies I’d downloaded on it — as well as all the porn I’d collected. It was nowhere to be found. I did find that all my music and movies had been transferred to the new machine, but the porn was gone. That had me miffed a little — there was some stuff there that was hard to find online now, including everything I could find by one model who looked a lot like Beth, my ex-girlfriend.
I minimized the browser and looked at the desktop, trying to focus on the icons instead of that enticing cock pic. The first one that caught my eye was a smaller 8-bit pink penis, the label “PORN” beneath it. I double-clicked it, and a window popped up with video player controls. A video started playing, a gay BDSM scene with one guy tied up and suspended from a ceiling, with a couple other guys taking turns using his mouth and ass.
I got distracted for a few minutes watching that. It ended and a pop-up asked “PLAY NEXT VIDEO?”
I’ll come back to this, I thought, closing the window.
Just then, another window popped up, looking like it was from a messaging app.
“NEW RULE #3: YOU WILL POSE FOR CONFIRMATION PICS ON DEMAND”
I clicked OK and the window disappeared, then a second later another window opened. It was a picture of my living room… no, it was a feed from the webcam. I looked up at the top of my monitor and my old webcam was gone, replaced by a newer-looking one.
Another message window. “WHEN THIS WINDOW OPENS, MOVE BACK ABOUT FIVE FEET TO GET A FULL BODY PIC. COUNTDOWN AND SHUTTER WILL BE AUTOMATIC”
Indeed, when I clicked OK, a countdown from 10 started on top of the webcam image, so I quickly stood up and took a couple steps back so my whole body was in the frame. The window flashed white to indicate a picture had been taken, and then the window closed itself. I didn’t get to see the picture.
I dug around a bit and couldn’t find where the photo might be stored — in fact, I quickly discovered I did not have access to any of the system folders or most of the computer’s settings. The decisions on how my computer would be used were now being made for me.
I was still sorting through that when another message popped up.
“NEW RULE #4: KEEP YOUR LOG UP TO DATE”
I looked at the desktop and there was indeed an icon named DAILY LOG, so I double-clicked that. A window popped up, and I quickly discovered it was a form attached to a spreadsheet, with various fields to fill out to log different sorts of sexual events. I scrolled through the options and filled in the details to report the blowjob I had just given, including ticking a checkbox that asked if the event had been filmed. After that, it quickly became routine for me to fill this out every day — updating databases was what I spent half my time at work doing anyway.
When that was done, I discovered one more icon of note on the desktop. It was a picture of a file folder, with the title LEVEL 1 underneath it. I double clicked on it and confirmed that it was the folder of exposure images that Sir was collecting. Most of the bondage exposure exercises were there, as well as some videos Sir had taken and quite a few photos. The video that the chubby guy had taken in the hotel room on Saturday night was there was well, with a bright yellow NEW! icon below it.
I closed that and opened the PORN icon again. I was feeling somewhat wound up, and even moreso fifteen minutes later. The app, whatever it was, offered me a constant stream of steamy porn clips — most of them involved bondage scenarios or guys in chastity being used in different ways. Some just had more straightforward sex, but they were all hot as well. It was only when I realized I needed to shut it down that it occurred to me that they were all man-on-man clips.
I cruised the web for awhile, and it seemed that for the most part nothing else was filtered, so things felt more-or-less normal. At least until the webcam app popped up again and once more I stood up to let it take a picture of me. (I’d notice, a few days later, that some of these would start to show up in my LEVEL 1 folder.)
After a while, I went to bed and managed to fall asleep, despite feeling fairly agitated, both from the porn I’d been watching and the whole new set of circumstances under which I was watching it.
By Tuesday morning, things were feeling more routine. I didn’t sleep in so much, so I had some more time to kill before getting ready for work. My balls were aching a bit, so I clicked on the PORN icon once more to watch a video. I was just getting into the scene it was showing when the webcam app popped up with a new message.
“TIME FOR SOME BLOWJOB PRACTICE. ATTACH A DILDO TO THE BACK OF YOUR CHAIR, AND SET IT IN CAMERA RANGE. SUCK IT UNTIL THE TIMER STOPS”
I must confess that the whole idea of this turned me on, and as I went over to the shelf and selected one of my dildos, a six-inch “real feel” one that I’d already discovered was the best for practicing cocksucking. I rotated my chair ninety degrees and attached the dildo’s suction cup its back, looking over at the computer screen to see that it was centered in the shot. There was now a “READY!” button across the bottom of the window, so I clicked that and a timer from 10 started counting down. By the time it hit zero, I was on my knees, ready to start sucking the dildo.
Looking over out of the corner of my eye, I could see another countdown, now ticking down from twelve minutes. There was also a blinking red light in the bottom corner of the webcam image — the standard indicator for recording. But something was missing. I tried to focus on sucking the dildo for a minute before I looked back over at my computer and I realized what was missing — the new webcam didn’t have a corresponding light to show it was active.
Which meant, for all I knew, it could be recording me at any time and just not showing it on the screen. I closed my eyes as I went down deeper on the dildo, and a thrilling shiver went through my body. I have no privacy. I have no privacy.
Just like when James had been fucking me, my balls were pulsing with frustration, and it almost felt like I’d be able to blow my load just from having this fake cock in my mouth. But it didn’t happen. When the timer was done and the webcam app closed itself, I needed to shower down to clear my head.
Work was a bit more frustrating, as I was feeling bottled up all day long. In fact, when I was on my dinner break, I even went to watch some porn on my phone — and I discovered more of Sir’s interventions. The same web controls that were active on my computer were applied to my phone as well now — when I went to flip through my special porn twitter account I found it was blocked. But my phone had a couple new apps as well, one with porn photos I could flip through (I had to rate each pic before I could go to the next one), and the other with videos like on my PC. I had a corner of the staff room to myself, so I spent most of my dinner break looking at those. And after, the same observation filtered through my head: it’s all men! I don’t think I’m allowed to see straight porn anymore.
That conclusion was a little frustrating, but the frustration was once more kinda arousing. The choice was being made for me, and that fact turned me on.
By the time I got home, I was eager to keep watching whatever that porn feed was going to give me. I was in a rush to get undressed when I arrived, and was pretty quickly sitting in front of my computer watching a video with a group of guys taking turns fucking a dude in a sling. My balls were aching, and watching this made it worse, but I couldn’t stop. I looked over at the shelf of sex toys, and was thinking about using one of the dildoes on myself while I watched when there was a knock on the apartment door again.
With most of my mind on the video and another glance at my toys as I stepped past them to step into my entryway, I was pretty distracted. Is Sir going to send someone to check on me once a day? I wondered to myself.
I remembered about the peephole not working, but I didn’t even think to open the door a crack and peek out to see who it was. In my mind, it was going to be another one of Sir’s minions, and my mind was already a couple steps ahead wondering if I’d be allowed to give this one a blowjob as well.
I flung the door open. The woman standing there had a sudden look of shock on her face.
“Jesus, Da– what the fuck?! ”
I was frozen in place as a dozen things went through my mind.
Annie? What’s she doing here?
Annie was the best friend of Beth, my ex-girlfriend. We had a bit of a complicated past. About a year ago, Beth and I hit our first really rough patch, after we’d been together for about eighteen months. We mutually decided to take some time from each other. Not long after that, I ended up having a one-night-stand with Annie. The sex was quite good, but I think we both felt a little awkward after, so it didn’t happen again. Then Beth and I reconciled, and until our final breakup this summer, it had never seemed right to bring up the night with Annie, though in the back of my mind I felt a little guilty.
Probably only a couple seconds passed before we both unfroze.
I need to cover up. The fact that would break Sir’s rule raised a little error flag in my brain; but worse was that all my clothes were right here in the entryway. I didn’t think Annie would patiently wait while I opened a drawer to pull out some underwear. No. Retreat!
So I ducked back around the corner, into the living room area. Even as I did so, I realized I had made a tactical mistake. I should have gone the other way, into the bathroom. Then I could have grabbed a towel. I could’ve said I was just getting into the shower and…
I heard the apartment door thump closed, and relief flooded my brain. Okay, she left. We have time to work out an excuse.
Instead, Annie came around the corner, and in a panic I took several steps back. I bumped into the back of my couch behind me. My brain didn’t think to step around it, or jump over the back of it, or do anything to try and conceal my nakedness from her. Instead, for some reason, my brain pivoted and tried to pretend this was somehow a normal situation.
“Annie! What are you doing here?”
Social convention seemed to enforce itself in her mind as well. She lifted her left hand, showing me a couple books she’d been holding. I suddenly remembered having loaned them to her, ages and ages ago. “I’m moving next month,” she said. “I’ve started the cleaning and purging process. I was going to toss these, but I thought I could drop them off for you. I figured you were still working the same shit hours, so I figured you’d just be getting home from work now, and…”
She was visibly losing her train of thought as she took in my living room. I could see her eyes move from my cock cage, to the shelves of sex toys, and then settling on the large framed photograph.
“So… wow,” she said, now in a different tone of voice. “So you’ve finally come out?”
“No, I… what?”
She was looking at the framed photograph, then back to my caged cock. “This makes so much sense… you were always so…” she broke off her thought. “I read an article about men in chastity… I could definitely see you being… into… that.”
“Wait… why?”
“You were so awkward in bed. And the… the premature ejaculation. Beth blamed herself, you know that? And that night that we… I mean, I was so embarrassed for you.”
What?! I’d never thought I was the last of the white-hot lovers or anything, but I thought I’d been pretty decent in bed, and attentive to making sure the woman got off. I mean, maybe I didn’t last forever, but…
“God, I can’t wait to tell Beth about this. Actually…” she set the books down and pulled out her camera. “I’ve got to send her a picture.”
I was frozen again. I’d gotten used to people taking pictures of me in compromising positions, but this was different. But as Annie became increasingly assertive, I found it easier to just follow along.
She took a picture of me, still standing against the back of my couch. Then one of the large photograph. Then a couple of my shelves of toys. They seemed to intrigue her, and she stepped over to look at them closer.
“Beth always said you were trying to get her to do butt stuff. I thought you were just addicted to porn and trying to imitate it, but did you… did you really want to get fucked up the ass all along? Is that what you do now?”
“I… well, I mean, yes, but…”
She picked up the dildo harness that had showed up with my other toys. “I always wanted to try one of these.” She stared at it for a few seconds, then looked over at me. “I think I’m going to fuck you up the ass.”
I was simultaneously thrilled and embarrassed — I didn’t know how to react.
“You better find yourself some lube,” she said. “I’m gonna pound your ass!”
Whatever the status of my inner conflict, I basically acquiesced when she gave me the order. I finally moved, and started to walk past her.
“Wait, what’s that?” she said, raising a hand to stop me. She was looking at the QR code tattooed on my hip. “Does that really work?”
She still had her phone in her other hand, so instead of waiting for an answer, she pointed it down and took a picture of it. “What’s this?” she asked, looking at her screen. I could guess her browser had opened up the page with my exposure folder.
Instead of trying to explain anything, I walked past her, heading for the bathroom to find my lube.
“This is insane!” I heard Annie say from the living room. “I’m sending this to Beth right now… she’s not gonna believe this.”
I momentarily wavered; maybe this would distract her from her idea of fucking me with the strap-on.
“You were always so normie! How can you be dirty like this? Fuck… hurry up and get your ass out here.”
She was obviously into this, but I couldn’t really read why she was into this. Was she “dirty” too? Had she been eager to humiliate me all along?
I quickly squatted in the bathroom, licked a finger and penetrated myself. Partially to check that I was clean enough to be ready to fuck — that seemed okay — and also to then add some lube and open myself up a bit. I had a hunch that gentle foreplay wasn’t at the forefront of Annie’s mind. I quickly worked in a couple fingers and twisted my wrist back and forth, stretching my hole as much as I could. It wasn’t a lot, but I should be able to take a dildo without it feeling uncomfortable now.
I came out from the bathroom to see that Annie had kicked off her shoes and pants and was untangling the straps of the dildo harness to pull them up her legs. She’d attached a dildo with the straps and snaps — it was one I’d used a fair amount myself, more or less like a real cock but scaled up a bit to about seven inches, and nicely firm.
Once she had tightened the straps around her hips to her satisfaction she acknowledged me, and with a nod, gestured to where I was standing before. I handed her the bottle of lube I’d brought with me and guessing her intentions, I used the back of the sofa to hold on to, facing away for her, leaving my butt on offer. She walked behind me and put her hand on the small of my back. I obliged by bending over and sticking my ass out.
Annie squeezed some lube along the dildo and set the bottle down, and then I felt her running the head of the dildo back and forth along my asscrack. Finding my opening, she plunged the length of it in all at once — thank goodness I did prep myself a little.
“No resistance at all, huh? I bet you’ve been taking it up the ass like a champ.”
With that she started thrusting her hips, driving the dildo into me repeatedly. “Never took to it myself, most guys weren’t gentle about it.” She made a hard thrust into me and I gasped. “You seem to like it though.”
She fucked me without further comment for a spell. It felt pretty incredible from my end. I didn’t think this would do anything for her physically, but Annie seemed to be getting off on the power dynamic, and maybe even the visuals as well, as she started a running commentary on how my hole was accommodating the invader.
I moaned a bit as something nice was starting to happen around my prostate; I was wiggling and pushing back against her a bit. “Yeah, that’s right, why don’t you do the work?” She held in place and allowed me to grind myself back on forth on the dildo.
After a couple minutes she laughed and started smacking my butt — fairly light blows compared to what I’d been getting lately. Then she pulled the dildo out. I looked back at her over my shoulder.
“This doesn’t look like much of a challenge to you,” she said, walking back over to the shelves. She was releasing the snaps that held the dildo in place and pulled it loose from the harness. She set it down, then looked along the array of silicone phalluses.
“Maybe this will make you squirm,” she muttered as she grabbed the largest one on the shelf. It was nearly ten inches long and was at least an inch thicker than the one she’d been using on me. It was one I didn’t use a lot, but I’d had no problem playing with it before.
Of course, “before” didn’t involve having someone else trying to shove it into me with forceful abandon, so I was less than fully sanguine. Once Annie managed to attach it to the harness (the dildo was almost too thick to go through the ring that held it in place) it dangled quite lewdly from between her legs as she walked back over to where I was waiting.
“Yeah, this is more like it.” She gripped it at its base and smacked my buttocks several times. It felt thick and heavy. “Better grease this up,” she said, leaning down to grab the lube, “’cause I’m gonna split you open.”
She laughed. “I think I get it why dudes get so… aggressive with their cocks.” She leaned in and grabbed my cage, tugging at my balls a couple times. “Well, not you, obviously. Well. Let’s see how you like this one. Ask me nicely to put this in you.”
“Annie… will you fuck me with your cock?”
“Naw, c’mon. Beg me.”
“Please? Please fuck me.”
“Do you love dick?”
“Yes, I fucking love dick.”
“Are you gonna take this like a bitch?”
“Yes, I’ll take it however you give it.”
She laughed again. “I think you’ve really found your thing. You weren’t half as eager when we fucked.”
Now she was rubbing the head of the dildo along my hole again. Without being able to see it, it felt immensely larger than the other dildo.
And even moreso when she started pushing it in. I could feel my hole getting stretched a lot further than it had been before. It wasn’t painful, but when she stopped, pulled back and pushed further in there was a bit of discomfort as my sphincter tried to get used to being spread so wide open.
“C’mon, bend over some more. Yeah, that’s a good boy.”
Whatever it was doing to my hole seemed to be turning Annie on. She gave me a string of commentary as she worked the tool into me. “That’s right, you slut. You’re just a fuckhole, aren’t you? I bet you love it, having men use you as a fuckhole. Huh? Right?”
I had my eyes closed, caught in that space between feeling the discomfort of the penetration and the immense satisfaction it was whispering to me. God, I want this in me. “Yeah, I like being used as a fuckhole. It’s what I’m good for.”
Annie was jerking back and forth now, ramming most of the length of the shaft in and out of my hole. Every time I adjusted and was feeling like I was taking it without effort she went in deeper. Part of my mind was thinking about how thick this dildo got near the base. Then I gasped as I was invaded further — it seemed like Annie wanted to see all of this fake cock inside me.
She shifted her feet, moving them up so they were almost right beside mine. And she was bent over me now, her hands gripping my shoulders. She was positioned so that nearly all the shaft was buried in me, and the motions of her hips more involved her partially withdrawing it so she could slam it back into me.
She was almost bucking into me as she fucked me, and she seemed to be getting excited by the intensity with which she could pound my ass, muttering a couple syllables every time she thrust into me. “That’s right… bitch… c’mon… take it… yeah…. get fucked… you slut.”
It was almost too much — I knew I’d be feeling this tomorrow. But the intensity of it meant I couldn’t help but get turned on. This giant dildo was definitely brushing against my prostate, and I could feel that glow in my balls starting to radiate out. Once more it felt like this rough treatment could actually get me off if it kept going.
But instead, after a last few forceful thrusts, Annie eased off. She pushed herself up to a fully-standing position and moved her hands to her hips, but she was losing steam now, and it wasn’t too much longer before she slowed to a stop.
“Phoo, what a slut! I can’t believe you took so much dick.” Again gripping the base of the dildo, she started slowly pulling it out. It felt like there was yards of it wedged into me, and then one last stretch as the head came back out through my sphincter. I felt a little wobbly when it was pulled free of me,
Annie smacked my ass. “Get down on your knees, bitch. You can undo this damn thing at least.”
I dropped to my knees and pivoted around so that the dildo was right in my face. I reached for the snaps and released it, and tilted it up so I could pull it back through that ring. It was a little awkward to pull loose, but finally I had it. I was impressed as I felt the weight of the thing as I set it on the floor.
Then I loosened the harnesses that held the harness belt around Annie’s hips. As I leaned in to do so, I was fairly close in to her crotch and panties. I caught a whiff that I hadn’t smelled for awhile, a different mix of sweat and funk than I’d been experiencing lately. Mmm, pussy. God, I love that smell.
As the harness dropped to the floor around her feet, I moaned quietly and tilted my head back to try and catch her odor a little more, but I didn’t presume to try and touch her. Annie looked down at me. “Oh, you still remember what a pussy is? Well, you used to be devoted to licking it. Eager, if not exactly skillful.” That nearly caused me to wince — I thought I’d been more than decent at eating pussy.
“Are you going to thank me for fucking you like that? Maybe see if you can get me off with your tongue this time?” One hand moved down to her hip, one finger curling into the waistband of her panties.
Oh Christ. There was nothing more I wanted to do than to eat her pussy. I loved eating pussy, just like I now loved sucking cock. That smell was still wafting towards my nostrils. I was about to tell Annie that yes, I would do everything I could to show my gratitude.
Then I caught something from the corner of my eye. I turned my head a little, and saw the large framed photograph that now dominated the wall. And the man in it that dominated his sub. A bunch of stuff from the last couple days flashed through my mind — the limits on the porn that I was allowed to watch now. The delivery guy that had let me suck him off (“you’re allowed to suck my cock if you want.” Allowed.)
I moaned and looked up at Annie as I moved back from her crotch, settling on my haunches. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t think I have permission to eat pussy.”
Anger briefly flashed in her eyes, but then she laughed at me. She looked over at the photograph, just as I had. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “you’re somebody’s bitch, aren’t you?” She must have read my answer from my body language, as she started laughing again.
“Wow, Beth is going to love all of this.” She grabbed her jeans and pulled her phone from the pocket, opening it, then turning it toward me to take some more pictures of me, on my knees on the floor, a pair of slick dildos beside me.
Annie pulled her pants on and quickly smoothed herself out, then grabbed her shoes. “Don’t get up,” she said. “I’ll see myself out.”
She stepped over to me, and patted my head. “I’m actually glad I saw you. It really does seem like you’ve found your place. I hope you’re happy.”
She turned and headed over to the entryway. Rounded the corner, and then I heard the door open and close. I exhaled. I didn’t know if I was feeling humiliated any more — although there was a definite sting to my pride as I imagined Annie relating everything to Beth.
I saw something flicker from the corner of my eye. I looked over and saw that the computer monitor had come on. The webcam app had popped up, and I could see a still shot of me bent over, Annie fucking me with the strap-on. I hadn’t considered it, but we’d been right in line with the webcam for the whole thing. And I knew my computer didn’t need me to control it any more.
I wondered what Sir will have thought of that little escapade. For some reason, it made me feel better that I had refused to eat her pussy at the end. I hope I’m following Sir’s rules correctly.
10.b: The Poker Game (2)
The next day after Annie’s visit was my usual Wednesday check-in with Sir. I confess that I was positively squirming to have Sir say something about all of these recent developments, but as usual, he has content to inspect me in silence. And once more, right before dismissing me, messing with my work life by telling me that I was to show up at his place on Saturday night.
This was starting to get problematic. I had acknowledged to Sir that I was willing to disrupt my schedule to serve him, but I did have to deal with the ramifications of that… something I was expecting to hear about at my next performance review. Before meeting Sir, my plan to get out of my current crappy work hours was to keep my head down and be in a position to slide into a better position in my company when one opened up. But with all the extra days off I’d been wrangling, it was possible that if a position with better hours opened up it would just go to someone else.
But, once more, that worry would be pushed off. At least with a couple days’ warning, I could fake some cold/flu symptoms on Friday to make the sick day I took on Saturday vaguely plausible.
Of course, having an extra day off at home on Saturday gave me some more time to be mildly freaked out (and turned on) by the new arrangements at home, as I spent a couple hours exploring the porn that my computer would let me view. By the time I had to head over to Sir’s place, I was definitely hoping I was going to get fucked.
Various possible scenarios were spinning through my head on my way over. When I arrived and got undressed, a pair of lined leather cuffs were waiting for me.
As I put those on, there was a call for me coming from toward the dining area, so I shuffled my way there. Entering the room, I saw an unusual contraption in the corner. It had a vertical pair of thick PVC pipes a couple feet apart from each other with a horizontal pair of pipes connecting them. As I moved closer, I noted the pipes were emerging from a heavy, solid base. Beside that there was a plastic bucket with some plastic tubing on top.
Before I could inspect this any more closely, Sir entered the room, and he gestured me over to the contraption. Following his instructions, I moved up beside it and raised my arms, staying on my knees. The two pipes were just the right distance apart for my raised arms to lean against, and Sir quickly clipped the hooks on my wrist cuffs into eyelets on the pipes.
Is this going to be some sort of bondage thing? It feels like I’m at the right height to suck cock…
Without bothering to explain anything to me, Sir was still busy. Two more straps went lower on my arms, just above the elbow, holding my whole upper arms tightly against the pipes. Two belts above my knees secured my legs. The bindings weren’t uncomfortably tight, but there would be no easy way for me to get myself out of this, especially as the weight of my body was helping to pin the entire thing down to the floor.
While he was binding my arms, I realized that the two horizontal pipes were against my forehead and below my chin. And once my legs were secured, he attached some sort of harness to the back of my head, and straps on the top and bottom hooked to the horizontal bars. He told me to try and move my head and I found that, although the bindings weren’t uncomfortable, I couldn’t move my head more than half an inch in any direction.
I was fully secured to this device. I wasn’t going anywhere. I could only watch as he moved back and forth through the apartment, clearly getting ready for something. But I would only be seeing the zone in front of me, mostly a view of the dining room table.
Correction: a couple minutes later, Sir stepped in front of my and attached some sort of blindfold to the straps holding my head in space. I wasn’t going to be seeing anything.
From there, it was mostly waiting, with Sir heading in and out of the room. He was setting something up, but I had no idea what. After a while, I could feel him moving behind me. There was a squelch of something cool and wet against my asshole, and then something pressing against it. I relaxed and tried to ease the buttplug’s entry. It was fairly large, but not quite as big as the one I’d had in me for my treadmill run. He tugged and fussed with it for a few seconds before he was satisfied.
And then, he grabbed hold of my cage and lifted it up. Without seeing, it was hard to figure out what he was doing, but it felt like he was wrapping something around my cage and balls. And then, something like an elastic band snapped into place behind my cage’s ring. Was he putting a cock ring on me? Why? Hopefully that means something is going to happen with my dick tonight.
And then, after he left the room and came back, I got one more insertion, this time into my mouth, with something protruding back that pushed my tongue down. It was a gag of some sort, large enough to make a solid seal with my lips. Then something was attached to that, though of course I had no idea what that was. I was trying to work it out when there was a knock at the door, and a few seconds later I could hear Sir letting someone in. Voices came closer to me.
“Ooh, I see your toy has been moved out from the tub,” an unfamiliar voice said, his tone dripping with wry amusement and the faint whiff of a British accent.
“Yeah, I wanted to keep things moving this time, so now you won’t have an excuse to run off after every hand.”
“Well, I can’t help that I love be-” the response was interrupted by another knocking at the door, and shortly after that a third voice entered and the previous conversation was basically repeated over again. While Sir went into the kitchen, the guests were chatting to each other, and I could tell they were walking around me, looking me over like a new objet d’art before there was a sudden pinch at my nipple.
I grunted through the gag and there was laughter and then more hands on my body as I heard the pfft of cans opening in the background. I got the faint whiff of beer; I was guessing the poker game was on again.
There was one more knock at the door and a gruff voice entered. I recognized it as the dude with the big moustache that had fucked me here a while back. Was that going to happen again? Maybe I’ll get to service four men instead of two!
Instead, I could hear the men sitting down at the table. Sir said, “All right, five card stud to start, usual stakes. Tom, we’ll get to your goddam Texas hold ’em later on.”
It was indeed poker night. So why am I here this time? Maybe a prize for the winner? I had a moment of nervousness when I wondered if Sir would be allowed to use me as collateral.
It seemed like this was an established ritual for these guys, so their play moved along quickly and without excess chit-chat. There would be a little banter between hands, and often the pfft of another beer opening. I was trying to follow the action, but even then I was barely following the conversation when I realized they were talking about me.
“He seems to be taking this well,” one voice said. I thought it was the second guest, the one called Tom.
“Ah, he doesn’t even know what he’s in for yet,” Sir said.
Well, that much is true! I thought.
“Well, he a cute enough thing,” said the faintly-accented voice of the first guest.
“A bit of a project,” moustache guy said. “He needs a lot more training to be useful for anything.”
“He has been showing potential…. he’s advanced more than I expected,” Sir said, and something (pride?) swelled in my chest.
“Can I take off the blindfold? I want to see his face,” the first one said, and after Sir grunted I heard footsteps coming toward me. There was some tugging at the straps around my face and I had the presence of mind to close my eyes before the blindfold was removed. Even in the dim light of the kitchen my eyes took a minute to adjust to the return of light.
The guest who had taken off the blindfold bent down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be using you later,” he stage-whispered to me.
There was laughter from the table. “I’m surprised you haven’t had to already!” a voice responded as my liberator returned to the table.
Even once my vision was restored, I couldn’t see all that much, as there was something in front of my face, attached to the gag in my mouth. When I looked up, as much as I could look up, anyway, there was something else attached to my top forehead strap, or possibly to the pipe.
I couldn’t make any sense of it, so I tried to focus on the table. The moustached guy who had fucked me was sitting with his back mostly to me, and Sir to his left. Beside Sir was an elegant, older dandy — I tried to place him before I realized I was thinking of Mr. Humphries from Are You Being Served? By voice, I could tell he was the one who had taken off my blindfold. The last was a muscled guy who I imagined probably owned a lot of leather, although there was none in evidence right now. He looked like someone Sir would hang out with at the bar.
They played for at least a half-hour, with minimal fuss and serious intent. They were playing with real folding money, mostly twenty dollar bills.
As another hand started, the muscled dude named Tom threw his cards down in disgust when the first raise came to him. “Nothing can save this crap. Well, gotta break the seal,” he said, pushing out his chair.
“See? It’s not always me that has to go first!” said Mr. Humphries.
Tom stood up, and he should have gone to his right to go over to the bathroom. Instead he moved to his left, toward me, and I figured he must have been going to the kitchen first, to get another beer. Instead, he stopped in front of me, taking a step up on something I couldn’t see to raise him about six inches higher above me. And then he unzipped his fly, which I heard, but couldn’t see, my vision in front and above me being blocked. I guess he fished his cock out as well, but I couldn’t see that either… and right at that moment, my brain finally put it all together.
Oh Christ. I’m the urinal!
Right after that registered in my mind, I heard the sound of his piss-stream hitting something, and then, a moment later, there was piss flowing into my mouth. I instinctively swallowed; the piss was strong but not bitter. It was with a rising sense of excitement that I swallowed it all.
It’s not like I would have had a choice, anyway. With the tube strapped to my mouth and the rear part of the gag holding down my tongue, there was little else I could do.
After a medium-long slash, Tom’s piss flow stopped. I could see his arm shaking his cock, then hear the zipper going up, and he stepped down and away from me.
If that was a thrill and spectacle for me, it was a non-event for everyone else, as play had continued at the table as the hand finished up. But I was flushed and dizzy. This was so passive… I was truly being used. And not even sexually, from their perspective. I was just closer and more convenient than going to the toilet. But sensing all of that just made me more excited, and I could feel my cock straining against my cage as I felt a full-body flurry of horny excitement.
After the next hand, Mr. Humphries did indeed use me. At least he seemed less indifferent towards me, looking down and beaming a smile at me as his piss flowed into my mouth and down my throat. He patted my head fondly before returning to the table. Unfortunately, his piss had a strong ammonia-like tang that left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
Sir and his mustached friend seemed to be having an informal competition to hold out the longest before having to piss, and they each drank another full beer over the next few hands, so it was a stretch before I was used again. In the meantime, I felt the first stirrings of my own bladder, but I tried to ignore it for now.
Finally, after winning a larger-than-usual pot, Sir conceded the bladder-capacity challenge and stepped over to use me. As always, his piss was delicious, and this was the biggest dose of it I’d ever had at once. I felt faintly dizzy after he was done, belching out an air bubble as he put his cock away.
Moustache dude waited a couple more hands before he deigned to break the seal. This time, the other players actually turned to watch as he stepped up in front of me and delivered a truly heroic amount of piss into my mouth. Given he’d already had maybe three beers, it was more watery than the other piss-loads I’d swallowed, but still quite compelling.
As his strong, steady stream continued, he leaned down and his left hand fumbled around a bit before finding my nipple. He squeezed it, hard, and I had to fight not to choke as my body tried to wince away. But even if I could move, he had a vice-like grip on it, and it stung when he finally let it go before finishing off. The other players gave him a mock cheer, and in response, he leaned forward, hawked and spat into whatever was serving as the top of the urinal. A few seconds later, I could feel some of his slimy spit-snot oozing into my mouth.
And then the game went on. However, as time passed, I had an issue that I could no longer ignore: I had been drinking a lot of liquid, and that needed to come out. I also had to piss, and it was fast becoming a pressing issue.
But I couldn’t exactly raise my hand or ask Sir if I could get up to use the toilet. What was I supposed to do? I thought if he used me again soon, maybe I could grunt or gesture with my eyes to give him the message that I needed to be released so I could piss. But he was absorbed into his game and there was nothing I could do, and I was sure that if I tried to get his attention he wouldn’t be thrilled at being interrupted.
So I waited a couple more hands, and then a couple more. And then, it was something of a desperate issue. But the play was getting intense and there was no sign of anyone getting up.
I knew if I pissed on the floor I’d be getting a punishment, but by this point, the discomfort I was feeling gave me no other choice. With a vague sense of dread, I gave up and unclenched.
I had to piss so badly it actually took a few uncomfortable seconds to relax, but finally I started, my mind flooding with relief. And then confusion, as I didn’t see the piss below me, or feel it against my leg. Then I heard a faint gurgle, and my peripheral vision tried to interpret the white blur at my side. All at once I remembered the bucket and plastic tubing that had been beside me, and the sensation of Sir wrapping something around my cage. he had set up a collector for this eventuality, but without telling me. He must have known how worried I would have been about pissing on the floor.
The intense wave of relief that hit me, both physical and mental, was almost sexual. There was a strong ripple in my prostate that sent tingles through my belly, and for a few seconds there was a lingering sexual peak like I had just ejaculated.
I squeezed my eyes closed. Wow. That was… intense.
Whether any of the players had heard the sounds of my pissing (or maybe the beer was just working its way through their systems now), there was a rush to use me as they took a short break, stretching and getting food from the fridge, so despite having just released a monumental amount of my own piss, by belly was soon full once more. Everyone’s piss this time was more watered down, with just enough of a tang to give me a constant reminder: I am drinking piss. I am a urinal for these men.
Before coming to use me again, Moustache dude headed out of the room. As I’d seen before, he was familiar with Sir’s toys, and before he pissed in my mouth again he attached a biting pair of nipple clips to me, looping the chain around the tube and crossbar in front of me so that anyone using me could just reach in front of them and tug at the chain, sending jolts of pain through me. “Now we can flush him properly,” he joked, before repeating his hawking and spitting into the top of the tube connected to my urine collector.
Sir availed himself of the opportunity to tug at the nipple chain as I drank his piss, and Tom did as well, although Mr. Humphries left me in peace. The taste of his piss improved a lot as he had his beers, so despite (or because of?) all the indignities, I was relishing the actual fact that I was getting to drink all this piss.
That also left a strange ambiguity in my mind: was I enjoying this too much? It’s not like it was supposed to be a punishment, as Sir generally reserved punishments for times when I had broken his rules. I remembered once more his description when he made the contract with me: any pleasure I received was just an accidental by-product of him getting what he wanted. So there it is: he wanted a convenient urinal for his buddies to use; it was just a coincidence that that fit into the desires that I was now discovering had been lying dormant within me.
And thus the evening played out — and a long evening it was, with the poker game going on into the dead of the night. The drinking had tailed off as things got to an even more intense and serious phase of the game, so I was eventually being used less and less, the fatigue in my joints pretty much the only thing keeping me from nodding off.
And eventually the game ended. Tom seemed to have come out the furthest ahead, Mr. Humphries the furthest behind. The others seemed to have come out more-or-less even. Wrapping things up meant that everyone took their turn emptying their bladders, and this time everyone’s phones were out, taking pictures and videos of me drinking everyone’s piss. That was another thing that would have phased me a lot more a just a few weeks ago; now, it just seemed part of what I did.
It was only once all the guests had been shown out that sir got around to releasing me, removing the tube and gag before releasing my head-straps, and undoing the other bindings. Once I wasn’t being held up, I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sore all over, and possibly a bit drunk on second-hand beer. I followed his instructions to drag the bucket filled with my piss to the bathroom and dumped it down the toilet. After that I removed the buttplug and cleaned it, and shuffled back into the kitchen where Sir was cleaning up.
“That’s it for you for tonight. Get out of here.”
I started to move off, and he spoke again.
“Oh, by the way… on Wednesday you’ll be coming for your inspection in the evening instead of the afternoon. I’ll text you to let you know when.”
And then, he added more, sounding disingenuously casual: “you’re going to get to have an orgasm, so don’t be late.”
He laughed at my reaction to that, which spurred him on to taunt me more. “And I guarantee you it won’t be a ruined one this time.”
With that he turned away and I made my way to the entrance hall, dressed, and left. I was almost trembling with anticipation at what he’d just told me.
There was still enough liquid in my system that I realized as soon as I was outside I’d need to find a discreet spot to piss. But that wasn’t so unusual, that’s just typical Friday night drunks on their way home stuff. I felt boozy and dozy and very, very horny as I made my way home.
10.c: New cage/New phase
I was nearly unbearably agitated for the next couple days. Being denied the right to come on my own terms meant that when it did happen it was a big deal. I tried to think back to when I had last ejaculated… back when I was at the mall food court, I guess. A month ago already! And that was such a weird experience… when did I last get to have a full, proper release?
With only a few hours’ sleep, I was a zombie on Sunday; Monday and Tuesday weren’t any better. I was sure that it was not at all accidental that Sir’s reveal was making me twitchy with aching balls.
And then having to get through my day off Wednesday — when I was at home and in the nude — was even tougher. I ended up doing a monumental amount of housework just to distract myself.
Sir had texted me to be at his place for eight in the evening, and I was there on the dot, straining in my cage as I got undressed.
Sir was at his usual spot in front of his computer and I made my way over to him. As usual, I had to wait a while for him to finish whatever he was doing. Then he swiveled in his chair to look at me.
“You have done well at obeying. To obey is to follow orders, and you have shown you can do that. Now, you must learn to submit. Do you understand?”
“I… think so, Sir.”
“I don’t know if you do. Submission is not merely following orders — it’s the deliberate process of allowing your will to be subordinated to a stronger will. Are you ready to learn to submit?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I have a friend who is going to help to teach you.”
He turned back to the screen, and it was a minute or so before he addressed me again. “Go back to the playroom and wait there on the bed.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Almost shaking with anticipation, I headed down the hallway, past the bathroom. My mind was buzzing with memories of what happened last time I was in this room, when Sir took my cage off and nearly drove me out of my mind with a series of ruined orgasms.
Maybe he has something like that in mind again, I thought to myself as I reached the room. The fact that room was set up quite similarly let that idea echo in my mind: again there were a pair of video cameras on tripods, although this time there was a chair beside the bed as well. In the center of the bed was two pairs of leather cuffs, a large buttplug and a tube of lube. Figuring those were for me, I got them in place, then lay on the bed, waiting for whatever was going to happen.
I waited for what must have been at least half an hour, anticipation and boredom alternating in waves. After a while, I could hear a muffled conversation down the hallway; it sounded like Sir’s friend had arrived. I strained my ears but couldn’t make anything out, so I let it just become part of the background noise. Finally, Sir entered the room. Without comment, he attached my wrists and ankles to short chains hooked to the railings at the head and foot of the bed, leaving me spread-eagled. Then he fussed with the cameras before he left the room again. I could see the lit red light on top of each of them that indicated they were running.
He was only gone for a minute this time, returning with another man in tow. His friend was probably in his late forties, fit but not buff, looking solid under a plain white t-shirt. He had a neatly-trimmed goatee and short sandy hair. His eyes caught mine as I was examining him, and I felt a weird buzz at the intensity of his look.
As Sir leaned in behind one of the cameras, the newcomer sat in the chair after shifting it so he was sitting beside my torso and angled to look right at my face.
“My name is Mark,” he said. Despite his intense eyes, he had a calm, soothing voice. “We’re going to talk about helping to guide you to a deeper sense of submission. It sounds like you’re already doing well with accepting your place in chastity, but we’ll do some work to reinforce that too. Sound good?”
I nodded.
“Great. A lot of this will be like… learning some mantras that you can repeat. And so you really absorb those, we’re going to start by getting you really, really relaxed. So I want you to look into my eyes and really concentrate on the sound of my voice. And we’ll do some breathing exercises to start…”
It was easy to get lost in his eyes and his voice, as we patiently went through a series of breathing exercises that he said would encourage deep relaxation. Then he led me though this sort of complicated logic problem, where I was supposed to remember the order that various items were arranged on a table. I quickly lost track of it, but he was keeping me focused, and still doing the breathing exercises. And relaxing…
I think I zoned out.
I vaguely remember him repeating a few phrases. He was echoing what Sir had said before sending me in here, that submission meant allowing your will to be subordinated to someone else’s. I couldn’t quite follow all of it, but it seemed to make sense; and then, like a tide washing up on a beach, it was all swept away. I was feeling very
relaxed
and I was drifting somewhere. And I wasn’t really paying attention to what my body was doing. And that was fine.
And after some amount of no-time, there was a voice. It was Mark. He was saying something, but it seemed to take a little while for the sounds to form into words. Wake up now. Okay. No wait… I wasn’t sleeping, I was listening to Mark talking and…
Things sort of clicked in all at once, and for a second, I was confused and overstimulated, like I’d stepped from a dark room into bright sunlight. My body was trying to tell me several things all at once, and it was such a rush of impressions, it took a few moments to start sorting them out. Several things were unusual — my brain was trying to absorb them all together, but it would make more sense for me to relate them sequentially:
First, there was the fact that my jaw was sore, and there was a strange taste in my mouth. It took a few seconds for me to realize it was a lot like the aftertaste of semen.
Second, there was a strange throb in my balls, like they had been emptied and now they were suffering from a painful emptiness. I looked down at my stomach, which was covered in a thick, dripping pool of semen. Is that mine? Did I come?
From the aftereffects in my belly and balls, it seemed clear that I had… and yet, I didn’t remember coming, though it must have just happened.
And all of that served to distract me from the most striking sight: my pink Holy Trainer was gone, and my cock was encased in a gleaming metal cage.
Wait… when did that happen?
The sight of (what must have been) my jizz, as well as that new, smaller cage sent a jolt through me, and my cock immediately twitched, wanting to get hard. The unforgiving metal quickly pressed against my engorging flesh in a battle of wills… and quickly my cock seemed to give up.
All of this must have zipped though my mind in seconds, but it felt like it took me much longer to decode what I was seeing and feeling as I tried to reconcile all this with the fact that I didn’t… really… remember any of this happening. That was strange. But it’s fine, I thought to myself. You don’t have to worry about it.
I was stirred from my reveries by Sir’s chuckles. “Congratulations on graduating to your first real chastity cage. It seems like it fits really well, though we’ll keep an eye on it for the next few days.”
Now I was distracted by a sinking feeling, as it was slowing becoming clear to me that I had had the full orgasm that Sir had promised… and I didn’t even remember it.
“I hope you enjoyed that,” he said as I eyed the ejaculate that was slowly oozing down the sides of my belly. “That cage is going to stay there for a good long while. Much longer than you’ve been locked for so far.”
He let that soak in for a few seconds. “But how long you’re locked up for is up to you.”
Mark was still in the chair now, leaning back, that stark intensity in his eyes now obscured. He smiled at me as I looked over at him.
“You told Mark about some of your deepest fantasies.” (I did?) “One of them is illegal,” Sir said, “and I’ll have no part in it. But I’m going to let you try out other one on Saturday night.”
With that, the two men headed out of the room, leaving me alone to try and sort through all that. I was probably there for another half-hour — and even with that, I still hadn’t managed to unpack whatever it was that had happened. Although I also realized it wasn’t something I needed to worry too much about.
Eventually, Sir came in and released my wrists and ankles and indicated for me to follow him back to the living room. Mark was sitting on the sofa, and Sir picked up my phone from his desk and handed it to me. “I put some relaxation files on here that Mark made for you.”
“You should listen to one every night when you’re falling asleep,” Mark commented. “You wouldn’t want to listen to them at any other time anyway.”
I took the phone. “No, of course not. Thank you.”
Sir didn’t have any further instructions for me, so I just made my way over to the entryway and started getting dressed. As I pulled my underwear on over my new metal cage, my cock twitched — there was a piquant sensation that it made everything feel a little different, and I guessed just the fact of wearing it would make me horny for the next few days. And that, in turn would make me more frustrated, which would make me more horny which would…
It was strange; after all these months, it felt like my chastity was just starting now.
I wondered how long it would go on for.