By nyc49

The rest of the week dragged on. I couldn’t get my mind off the fact that I was locked up. Not just that I was locked up, but that I had locked myself up. I’m usually pretty risk-averse, but here I was with my dick locked up, and I had sent the key off to God knows where. I might never hear back from Ted, if that was even his real name, I might never see that key again. I was beginning to understand what it meant when I wrote “I give up control” on that envelope. The key should have reached him by Thursday, but as of Friday night, he had not sent me a message letting me know it had arrived or when I could come to him to get unlocked.

I woke up on Saturday, hoping that there would be something in my inbox to let me know I was going to be released. Nothing. I didn’t want to leave the house in case he sent an e-mail and I didn’t get it, so I sat at the computer. Not much point in looking for porn, given that I was locked up, but maybe I could find something to distract me. Finally, I heard the “ping” that I had a message.

“Be at the Trenton train station at 3.”

I checked the schedule. I was going to have to leave the house right away in order to make the next train.

“I’ll leave now, but if I miss that train, I’ll text you and be on the next one.”

“I won’t wait for you. If you’re not there at 3, I’ll leave, and I’m not sure when I’ll have time to get together with you again.”

Given that it could be weeks and weeks before he could be free again, the possibility of missing this chance was too big a risk. I got dressed, remembering to put on the jock strap like Ted liked and headed out the door. He hadn’t instructed me to wear it, and in fact he hadn’t given me a whole lot of instructions other than where to be when, but I figured there was no point in giving him a reason to be displeased with me.

I still needed to make that train. There were a million things that could go wrong – hat if my fare card didn’t work and I had to waste time buying another? What if the subway was delayed?  It’s not like these things were uncommon. My stress levels, already elevated because of the chastity, went even higher. I made it to Penn Station and walked quickly to the ticket vending machines. There was always a line for the New Jersey Transit tickets, and in the past I had nearly missed trains because of how long I had to wait. This time was no exception, and I looked daggers at everyone ahead of me. Why couldn’t they press the buttons faster? Why couldn’t they figure out how to use the machines faster? All the same, while Ted had given me practically no time to get ready, the reason I was locked up was because I had done that to myself.

Finally I got to the front of the line, bought my ticket and ran to the train platform. The doors closed behind me and we pulled out. The train was scheduled to get in at 2:50, so I had some breathing room, and I napped a little on the train, perhaps a bit tired out from the adrenaline rush.

By 2:45, we were almost at Trenton when the train slowed to a halt. Eventually the conductor announced that there was traffic ahead of us and we would be moving “shortly”. I hate it when things like that make me late, but this was almost too much to handle. Could it really be that I was going to go through the next weeks with no access to my dick because of … traffic on the rails? The train started again, moved about a hundred yards and stopped. And started. And stopped. My mind raced at all the permutations about what could happen: we could get there almost on time, which would be good. Or we could get there late, but still before three o’clock, and I would have to run through the station to meet Ted. Or we might arrive just after three. Would it be worth running? Maybe Ted was bluffing? But so far he hadn’t done or said anything he hadn’t meant.

Finally the train lurched forward. I looked at my watch: 2:52. That had been a very stressful seven minutes, and all because I had been reckless enough to click that lock on the device. Four minutes later, we arrived at the train station. I jumped up and headed to the door, running along the platform and up the stairs. I began to notice that the combination of a chastity device and a jock strap was not the best when it came to comfort, at least not when I was running.

I got to the front of the station and spotted Ted’s car. I opened the passenger door, and he pointed to his watch. “I was about to leave. Still, you’re here, so let’s get started. First, put this on.” He handed me a chain with a small padlock. “Around your neck.” I was too flustered to hesitate, but I looked at him. “You’re not collared, but we’ll need it for what I have planned.” I pulled the chain around my neck and clicked the padlock shut. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, which they weren’t, but all the same, I tucked the chain under my shirt. It was short enough that I wasn’t going to be able to get it off without undoing the lock, but not so short as to be restrictive.

Ted reached inside my shirt to make sure the lock was secure. Then he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocked. “These, too.”

“What if we get pulled over? Won’t the cops want to know why I’m in handcuffs?”

He reached to the back seat to get a sweatshirt. “You can put these over the cuffs. It will be like a perp walk.” I put on one handcuff, then the other, a little awkwardly. Ted pulled out a handcuff key and double locked the mechanism.

“Good to know you have the keys with you.”

“Let’s see. No, I only have three keys on me: one for the car, one for my house, and one for the handcuffs. Good to travel light.”

“But what about the padlock I just put on my neck? And the chastity device?” I tried not to sound too desperate.

“I don’t have those right now. Buckle up.” It was awkward for me to reach the seatbelt, with my hands cuffed. I started to notice how every movement I made was restricted in some way by having to keep my hands together.

He pulled the car into traffic, and soon we were on a bridge. “Wave goodbye to New Jersey,” he said, waving. I raised my hand and quickly put it down again, remembering that my other hand was going to have to wave, too. I also realized that we were driving into Pennsylvania. So, here I was, with locks around my neck, my wrists and my dick. I knew that the keys I needed to be free weren’t even in the car, and now we were driving away from the place where I had sent one of those keys. What was going on here?

We turned off the bridge, down smaller and smaller roads, until we were in what I considered to be the countryside. Eventually (how long? How could I tell?) we pulled up a long driveway. There was a house, well away from the road or any other neighbors, and behind it was what might have been a small barn or a large shed. Ted got out of the car, and I opened the door on my side, again with both hands together. Ted took the sweatshirt from me and told me to strip.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“This place belongs to Len and Bill, some bondage friends of mine. They said they would come over later, and I promised them a treat. Now, take your clothes off.” I looked around again to make sure there was no one who might see and reached down to take off my sneakers. Ted popped the trunk of his car and started putting my clothes in a bag he had stored there. Socks next, then pants, then my jock strap, all in that bag. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to take my shirt off, but Ted took out the handcuff key and unlocked one wrist. There was no point in resisting with my partial liberty, as I still had other locks to be undone. I took off my shirt and handed it to Ted, who then re-locked my wrists, but with my arms behind my back. As I stood in the back yard of this house, stark naked except for the chain around my neck and the chastity device on my cock, Ted put the shirt in the bag, put the bag in the trunk and slammed it shut.

“We’re going in there,” he said and led me to the barn. It was awkward walking with my wrists bound, but I followed him inside. The door was open, and inside the space was empty except for a few wooden columns. He pushed my back against one of the columns, which had a metal ring at the height of my head. I stood still while he walked over to the corner, and underneath a small tarp he pulled out some more things I couldn’t quite see. As he returned, he showed me the first: another padlock. He took the chain at the back of my neck and locked it to the metal ring. It was not so high that it was choking me, but it was high enough that I definitely was not going to be able to sit down, or even bend my knees much.

“Now I know you’re secure, I’ll undo your wrists again.” He unlocked only one, and pulled my hands behind the column, locking and double locking the cuffs. The second item was a set of shackles, which he quickly locked around my ankles, with the chain going behind the column. My legs could move, but not very far.

The last item was a ball gag. “Let’s get this in you.” He strapped it around my head, and instinctively I started trying to talk, not that I was sure what I wanted to say.

“Nope.” He silenced me. “Let me tell you a little more about what the plan is. My friends should be back in time for dinner, but they may come back sooner. Or maybe much later. Their plans can change a lot. I’m going to head over to Home Depot to pick up some supplies for tonight. I should mention – Len and Bill are trying to sell this place. The keys to the house are in one of those real estate broker lock boxes out front. I don’t have access to it, but Len tells me that’s where he put the keys to the locks he’s lent me. You know, this one (he pulled on the chain around my neck), this one (he pulled on the lock connecting me to the column) and this one (he grabbed my crotch). So, what that means for you is a couple of things. First, there might be a broker stopping by to show the house, and he might take the clients in to see the barn. That should be fun for everyone. It also means that other real estate brokers might have accidentally taken the keys from the box, which would mean you’re going to be locked up here until we sort that out. Of course, I still have the handcuff keys, so at least there’s that. See you soon! Well, not too soon, I guess.”

I looked at him, pleadingly, and grunted. “Not too much you can do about it.” He rapped on the chastity device again and walked out, closing the door behind him. I heard him get in the car, start the engine, and drive away. I assessed my situation: I was naked, in a stranger’s barn, at a location I didn’t know. My clothes were driving away, locked in the trunk of a car of someone whose name I wasn’t really sure of. My neck was chained to a column, my hands and feet were cuffed, I was gagged, and my dick was locked up. The keys to most of this were inaccessible to the one person who knew I was here. Any minute, I could be discovered by an unsuspecting real estate agent, or I could be met with the owners, who were “bondage friends”. What did that even mean? And the only people who could unlock me were probably coming back tonight, but not definitely. And Ted had driven away – how far I couldn’t be sure, but there didn’t seem to be a Home Depot or any other stores nearby.

Ted was right. There was not much I could do about it. In fact, absolutely nothing.

 

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Metal would like to thank the author, nyc49, for this story! If you liked it, please leave a comment for the author.