By David Cody Ledon

I have been a cock/chastity slave now, for 6 months. My master, Thomas, and I had initially started dating after meeting for coffee. We had met on an online hookup site that had no connection to kink, S&M or bondage, and had gotten to know each other for several weeks while we had conventional, but very hot sex. I became his slave last July when he talked me into letting him tie me down one night, at which point he locked me in a chastity device and a shock collar and spent the rest of the weekend dominating and humiliating me.

Thomas is 28, 5’4, and 140 pounds. Like many guys his age, he can eat pretty much anything without it affecting his weight, although I suspect when he turns 30 that may change. It never occurred to me that a guy who is so young and so small would be such a nasty, merciless dom.

I’m a good bit older (52) and larger (6’0, 175 pounds) and reasonably nice looking. Thomas came after me, and while I was surprised by his interest, given our age difference, I was also very flattered. I ended up falling right into his trap.

After the first weekend when he captured me, he made it clear that if I ever want to shoot a load, it will be his decision, and only if I’m completely obedient. I have tried to get the device off, but it’s both reasonably comfortable and very secure.

During the week, I live at my place, go to work and the gym (more on that later), do my grocery shopping and keep up with friends and family. But on Friday night, I go to Thomas’ place. I usually get there before he does. I let myself in, strip, and lock on the leather wrist and ankle restraints he has waiting for me. I put my clothes and keys in the top drawer of a cabinet by the front door, which also contains a transmitter for the shock collar in the bottom drawer. Then, I get the collar from the kitchen, where it sits in its charger, and lock it on. Once it’s on, I can’t get near the front or back doors (there’s a transmitter there too), and I can’t get at my belongings. I sit on the floor just out of range of the front door transmitter and wait for Thomas to come home.

I’ve tried soap, baby oil, lube, and anything else I could think of to get the damned chastity device off. It won’t budge. Thomas keeps the keys to the device and to the padlocks on the leather restraints in a small safe. It’s similar to the ones in hotels, where you have to set the unlock code each time you lock it. He told me he changes it regularly, so I have no idea how to get at the keys.

A typical weekend starts when Thomas walks in the door Friday evening. His first command is usually “lick my boots” and my response is always “yes, Sir”. Depending on his mood, he might make me give him a blow job, or he might fuck me (I was a top, albeit not a dom, before he captured me). If I don’t obey him exactly, I get an incredibly painful shock from the collar, and potentially lose my chance to shoot a load that weekend.

A relatively new addition to his control is my physical condition. At some point, he decided he wanted me to work out and get in better shape. I wouldn’t mind, except for the punishment I get if I miss a fitness goal. I get weighed every weekend, and he has one of those home body fat testers. If the numbers aren’t what they’re supposed to be, I end up spending several hours tied to a chair with a buttplug up my ass. Each time, he uses a larger buttplug, so I’ve been really motivated to meet my goals, and I’ve actually lost five pounds and gained some muscle mass.

I’ve been working with a trainer at the gym, which was Thomas’ idea. He got off on the idea of someone else training me for his use, and actually bought a gift certificate for me for the first session, at a downtown gym in the city’s “gay ghetto”.

At the gym, I meet with the trainer every Wednesday. The guy, as you’d expect, has a stunning body, and in fact, competes as a bodybuilder. He’s 6’3 and 240 pounds (I googled him and found him on a bodybuilder site) and is around 45 years old.

I’m typically his last appointment of the evening. One Wednesday, after we were done, I hit the locker room to shower. I deal with the chastity device by wrapping a towel around me before I drop my pants. It looks a little goofy, but not nearly as humiliating as people seeing the device. The gym has shower stalls, so it makes it easier to keep it hidden. My trainer, Rick, was also changing, and we were both getting dressed at the same time after showering. My towel started sliding as I was pulling on my underwear, but I hoped I had grabbed it in time. Fortunately, no one else was in the locker room when he said

“Interesting jock strap you’ve got there.”

I turned beet red and froze. He had clearly seen the device when my towel was dropping. His grin turned to a look of concern.

“No worries, I’ve seen those before. You’re not the only guy who wears one. I was just commenting because I hadn’t seen that model before.”

I was pretty surprised. “You know different models of these things?”

“Well, yeah. I lead a kind of interesting life.” He grinned. “Look, we’re both done here, let me buy you a cup of coffee. I’m really sorry for putting you on the spot.”

A cup of coffee with a guy like Rick, despite the fact that I couldn’t follow up, sounded pretty nice. I was curious about what “interesting life” meant too.

We walked around the corner to a small coffee shop and placed our orders. Rick picked up the tab and we sat down.

“So where did you get that thing? I’ve not seen that one before.”

“Uh, I didn’t actually purchase it.” I think I was turning red again.

“Oh? From your boyfriend?”

“Not exactly.” I felt, and probably looked, like I wanted to drop through the floor.

Rick smiled gently at me. “Look, I’ve applied a few of those myself. Believe me, I’ve been around a bit, and very little surprises me anymore. More people than you realize are into all sorts of kinky stuff.”

Still flushed, I looked at him and said “I’m not into kinky stuff. I don’t really have a choice about this thing.” Rick was the first person I’d ever said that to, and it was every bit as mortifying as I had feared. I stared down at my coffee cup in embarrassment.

Rick mulled that over for a moment. “Look, I figured you were just embarrassed because your kink went public. I’m into kinky stuff, I thought it would be fun to compare notes with a like-minded person. What is actually going on?” He looked genuinely concerned.

I told him the whole story, how Thomas had basically ensnared me, how careful he was to make sure he didn’t interfere with my job, finances or family, but how pretty much everything else in my life was under his control.  As I told the story, my voice dropped, and Rick had to lean in to hear me by the end of it.

“Wow. Sounds like a pretty ruthless character” Rick looked more amazed at my story than sympathetic to me. “I didn’t mean to pry. Thing is, I only do fitness training part time. So in the interest of true confession, I should let you know that I make most of my money as a professional dom.”

To my shock, the evening had just gotten even weirder. On the other hand, it made perfect sense. He had a killer body, he worked in a neighborhood with a large gay population, and he was hanging out with a lot of hot men. Why shouldn’t he make money dominating guys?

“Look,” he said, you don’t need to worry about what I think. Like I said, I’ve seen so many kinks, fetishes and offbeat sexual behaviors, and have participated in a ton of them that it’s pretty hard to shock me.” He squeezed my hand encouragingly. “Keep working out, your body looks really good, and if you want to have coffee again sometime, I’ll be happy to.”

***

Friday night, per usual, I got to Thomas’ place before he did. I let myself in and glumly went about giving up my freedom – coat, clothes, restraints, lock the collar and wait. Tonight, however was different. After I sat down on the living room floor to wait for Thomas to come home, I heard footsteps behind me coming from the bedroom area. I initially thought that Thomas had gotten in before me (his house has parking in the back, so you can’t tell from the street). When I turned around, however, I was shocked to see Rick standing there in leather pants and a harness, looking happily at me.

“He has you trained very well.” Rick commented. I was too stunned to say anything. What the fuck was he doing here?

“Come back to the bedroom, you’ll like what I have to show you.” I mutely followed, too dumbfounded at this point to even feel embarrassed.

In the bedroom, Thomas was spread-eagled to the bed, much as he had done to me the night he captured me, and, for that matter, most weekends since when he would, if I pleased him, jerk me off before cleaning me up and locking the chastity device back on and sending me home for the work week. But there were some key differences.

For one, there was a electro-stim unit attached to leads on his cock, balls, and nipples, and on a buttplug that had been inserted in his ass. He was gagged, with the plug gag I recognized as his. And there was a sound, also attached to the electro stim unit, that was inserted into his piss slit, and presumably down into his cock.  His t-shirt had been ripped off of him. He looked at me pathetically. I looked at him in amazement, and then at Rick. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Your story on Wednesday intrigued me,” he said. “You told me all about your weekend schedule, and you also said that Thomas here had bought you a gift certificate for your first training session with me. I saw an opportunity.” Thomas and I were both hanging on his every word.

“I looked up the gift certificate, and called Thomas yesterday. I told him, truthfully, how I came to know your story, and how impressed I was with him as a dom. I told him about my other job, and said, if he wanted to meet here today at lunchtime, I’d help him set up some additional fun for you for this weekend. He jumped at the chance.

“I knew from your story he had chains already attached to the back of the headboard. I also have about 100 pounds and around a foot of height on him. He’s small, and not in very good shape. I’m big, and in excellent shape. Getting his hands secured wasn’t challenging, the most he was able to do was squirm. After that, the rest was pretty easy.

“My goal was the combination to the key safe. I started nicely, but Thomas here wasn’t cooperative. After that, I just kept hooking up electrodes and bumping the power until he finally gave up the combination. Care to see a demo?”

My head was spinning. Rick had the key to the chastity device, and he had Thomas tied to the bed. Thomas was again looking pleadingly at me. “Sure I said, show me what it can do.”

Rick adjusted some dials on the control box while Thomas, as near as I could tell, pleaded for mercy through the gag. Rick flipped a switch and Thomas yelled into the gag until Rick turned the unit off.

“I’m only at 25% power. But I moved it up slowly. It was more fun before he finally gave me the combination.”

“So you have the keys to this chastity device? You can free me?”

Rick looked at me coldly. “Your former master is chained to bed with a half dozen electrodes attached to him. Do I really strike you as a rescuer?” I was stunned.

“The keys to your chastity device, your collar, and the restraints on your wrist and ankles are in the bottom drawer of the cabinet by the front door where you put your clothes. I’m not rescuing you, I’m stealing you. You belong to me now.” I’m not sure whether Thomas or I was more stunned.

“It was true what I said about Thomas. He’s a smart, calculating, ruthless dom, and he did an awesome job capturing and training you. I’m just picking up where he left off. I train people all the time to be slaves. They pay me for it. It’s fun, but it’s also my job. You, on the other hand, have been trained. You’re low-maintenance. You’re going to be my personal slave. How often can I get one pre-trained?”

Rick put his hand on the back of my neck and walked me out to the living room. He got my clothes and keys out of the cabinet and hand my clothes to me, pocketing my keys. “Get dressed. Don’t worry about taking the collar or restraints off.” I complied.

Next, he pulled out a couple of leather bondage mitts and put them on me. He secured each one to the restraint on my wrist by looping the padlock through the mitt and the restraint. Then came a lightweight cloth hood which he pulled over my head. I no longer could see or use my hands.

It was late January, and I had arrived in a heavy down parka. Rick put it on me and zipped it up. Then he removed the collar and said “don’t go away” with a little snicker. I heard him go back in the bedroom and talk to Thomas. He came back in about 10 minutes and said, “I unlocked one of Thomas’ hands and gave him the keys. He’ll get himself free in about 5 minutes. He won’t be any further trouble.”

Rick walked me to the back door. “It’s dark out now, so even if someone saw you, you’d probably just look bundled up against the cold. But my SUV is parked out back, no one’s going to see me load you in.” That apparently was the case, because he walked me out the door and through Thomas’ back yard to the driveway, where he put me in the cargo area of his SUV. Then we drove off.

***

The ride wasn’t long, probably just 10 minutes, but I had no idea where I was. When the vehicle stopped, Rick opened the back and helped me out. It was fairly warm, and I was pretty certain he must have a garage attached to his house. He walked me in, and took off my coat and the hood. We looked at each other, me questioningly, him appraisingly.

He next pulled off my shirt, and then the rest of my clothes, placing them on a chair in the living room. I still had the leather mitts locked on my hands, and the wrist and ankle restraints.

“When you told me your story at the coffee shop, it really got me thinking” he said, as he led me downstairs. His basement was divided into three rooms, each with a range of bondage equipment. He led me into a room with a padded table with rings running along the edges. He turned me to face him and then pushed me back and down on the table, face up, and continued talking to me while he locked down my wrists and ankles. The mitts were going to stay on, apparently.

“A lot of subs fantasize about being captured and forced to do what their master tells them. They come to me, and pay me, and I give them that fantasy for an hour or so. But really I’m working for them.  But a lot of doms also fantasize about capturing a guy and making him do whatever they want. But that would not be viable in the real world. You keep someone in a dungeon without permission, that’s a huge problem. It’s also a lot of work.

“Thomas figured out the dilemma perfectly. He found you, captured you, trained you, and all the while no one else knew. You were so humiliated you didn’t dare tell anyone, and as long as no one knew, you didn’t dare leave. Plus, your risked losing your only chance to cum if you tried something stupid and it didn’t work. You were perfectly trapped.” I just looked at Rick. He pretty much had me figured out.

“I’m not really looking to change much. You’ll be here on weekends now. I have a much wider range of toys – and punishments – than Thomas did, and you’ll experience all of them in due course. But for now, we’ll keep it simple.”

Rick pulled a lever under the portion of the table where my head was resting. The end of the table dropped, and my head was suddenly unsupported and fell back. Not surprisingly, as my head was hanging backwards off the table, I saw Rick’s cock coming toward my mouth.

“Open up and get to work.”

I managed to get out a “yes Sir” before his cock went down my throat.

***

Update from Metal: This story is a re-post from 10 years ago originally posted under the name pennagwm. The author has subsequently added to this and turned it into a much larger book-length story, called An Error in Judgment, available on Amazon.