Fire Island Chastity

By Pisslurper

My friend Metalbond invited me out to Fire Island, where he has a house share.  I was going to leave work early on Monday afternoon, spend the night with Metal on Fire Island, and leave mid morning on Tuesday to head back for an afternoon meeting at work.  Monday morning, I threw a swimsuit, pair of shorts, sandals and two t-shirts in a bag.

I had been considering putting on a chastity device —  one with spikes — for the trip.  I love being in chastity, and I particularly like the sensations of the spikes on my cock combined with the frustration of not being able to access my cock.  I decided to go for it, and I locked on The Punisher and left the keys in my apartment.

Work was dead slow, so I left even earlier than planned to take the 1:30 ferry to Fire Island.  I changed into my shorts and t-shirt before I left work, and drove out to the ferry terminal in Long Island.  I love how The Punisher felt under my shorts, and it made a pretty obvious (to me anyway) bulge, especially when I was sitting down.  But there was no time for modesty, or reconsidering, as I had a ferry to catch and the keys were back in the city.

Being Monday, there ferry wasn’t crowded at all, but most of the guys were hot.  I fantasized about their cocks swinging free under their shorts, or their cocks encased in jock straps under their shorts, and wondered how many of these guys had ever been in chastity, or even knew about chastity.  Metal met me at the dock in Fire Island Pines, and we walked the short distance to his house.  One of his house mates — a hot Italian guy — was in the pool, and I got a secret thrill from meeting him knowing that my cock was locked in a spiked cock cage.

I changed into my swimming trunks, and the three of us went for a walk on the beach, where we met another of Metal’s housemates, another hot guy.  Once Metal and I were alone, I told him that I was wearing the spiked Punisher cock cage, and he got a big smile on his face.  Metal and I are platonic friends, we don’t fool around sexually, but we both share an interest in bondage and chastity.

So we had a nice walk on the beach and came back for a swim in the pool (all with my swim trunks on, so no cock cage visible.)  Both of Metal’s housemates left to take the ferry home after dinner, and Metal and I had a relaxing evening catching up, enjoying swimming and hanging in the hot tub, all with our swim suits on.

Punisher Cock Cage with painful spikes

That night, after showering in the outdoor shower, I slept naked with the cock cage.  As normal, the pain of getting hard in the middle of the night woke me up several times, but I got a pretty good sleep and woke up the next morning around 6:30.  Metal was still asleep in the back bedroom, so I turned the coffee pot on and slipped naked into the pool for an early morning swim.  I was particularly (and happily) frustrated because I imagined that Metal had gone out the night before to have his cock sucked or perhaps he had beat off looking at internet porn — all while my own cock was being continually tortured with no release.

After a short dip, I dried off, threw on my shorts (with no underwear) and headed off for a walk on the beach.  Not many people were out that early in the morning, but at the end of the walkway to the ocean there were four young construction workers checking out the beach before they started work.  All of them were hot, wearing Levi’s and blue t-shirts with their company logo on the back.  Again, I imagined their big cocks unrestrained and begging to be sucked as I walked by.

The morning was foggy, but the fog layer was only about 150 feet thick, so the sun was shining through it.  The visibility on the beach however was only about a hundred yards or so.  I passed one man walking a dog, but otherwise the beach was deserted.  At the start of the part of the clothing optional beach between the Pines and Cherry Grove, I decided to take off my shorts and walk naked.  My heart raced at the potential embarrassment of someone seeing me naked and sporting a spiked cock cage.  Slipping off my shorts, I decided that I had to walk naked for at least two minutes.  The morning air and the fog felt great on my skin, and I got a particular thrill out of the feeling of my caged cock being out in the open air.  As it turned out I walked the entire distance between the Pines and Cherry Grove with my cock cage out for anyone to see.  The more I walked, the bolder I felt, and I was actually hoping that someone would pass by.  No luck, and I put my shorts back on as I got to Cherry Grove.

I had heard so much about the Meat Rack, so I was interested in wandering through this infamous location on my way back to the house.  Of course, I didn’t expect to see anyone or any activity at 7:00 AM on a Tuesday morning, but I had to check it out.  The scenery was beautiful and other worldly with the fog and the low trees and marshes.  Like I said, I didn’t expect to see anyone, and wasn’t sure what I would do if I did.

The Meat Rack at Fire Island

Sure enough, I was wandering through a wooded area when around the bend appears this guy, sort of leather daddy looking, maybe 50-ish, wearing only board shorts and solidly built with gray face scruff and a furry chest and abs.  He saw me before I saw him, and he was massaging his cock through his thin board shorts.  I was a little taken aback since I wasn’t really expecting to find anyone.  I eyed him working his cock to a semi-hard state in his shorts, and as we got close he reached for my crotch.  Inwardly I cringed, because I had no idea what his reaction would be.

He felt my cock cage, and after a second of surprise, he said, “Take off those shorts!”  With my heart pounding, I stepped out of my shorts and stood naked in front of this guy.  “I wasn’t gonna use that thing anyway” was all he said as he pushed me down to my knees and whipped out his cock to shove into my mouth.  His cock was fantastic, nice and meaty and uncut with a great musky taste.  In two seconds he had grabbed a fistful of my hair and was fucking my throat.  My cock was straining against the spikes, with an erotically painful result.  As I reached up to pinch his nipples, he calmly ordered, “Don’t touch me.  Keep your hands behind your back.”  Soon he was moaning, and he pulled his cock out of my mouth, and with one hand still grabbing my hair, he pumped his cock for a few seconds until he spewed a nice thick stream of cum across my chest.  He yanked up his shorts and was off down the path without saying a word.

I did my best to play with my cock inside the Punisher, but of course there was nothing but pleasurable pain as it strained against the spikes, and wonderful frustration.  I rubbed his cum into my chest hair, put my shorts back on, and headed back to Metal’s house, completely amazed at my good fortune.

I showered in the outdoor shower at the house, and Metal walked me to the ferry.  I still had the cock cage on (of course) when I went to work, and now, as I write this at home I’m still reluctant to unlock myself and jack off to the memory of my Meat Rack encounter.

 

Metal would like to thank his friend for sharing this true story.

2 thoughts on “Fire Island Chastity”

  1. Loved this story.
    Back in my day…. (two decades ago)
    For a couple decades i owned a house in Cherry Grove.
    Actually it was my residence and i lived there pretty
    much year around but would visit a close friend in Miami
    and then the winter in the mid-west… where i had a small
    place i rented out during the spring summer fall months
    which was winterized etc.. During that time i spent a lot
    of time locked. Remembering a former master……
    Who i have never gotten over losing…..
    Because death did us part !
    Below is a story i wrote about him …
    Which is posted in my fet-life page.
    _____

    The Chastity Belt
    So maybe it is time to post something
    myself and my sexual history in case
    some one might be interested.
    i was a fairly arrogant top for many years.
    i am now embarrassed by my way of being so.
    i was very amateurish.
    i was well to do at the time and buff.
    i had a large home with a well stocked dungeon.
    i had a herd of young boys as slaves
    i had one though that was different.
    i had basically groomed him from a street urchin .
    he was twenty-four when i met him
    he wasn’t strong and buff
    he had a raspy voice due to child hood surgeries.
    his chest was a mass of scars
    he drove a beat up old car.
    he lived in a dump of an apartment.
    he was going to college finishing grad school.
    he really didn’t go into his desires etc
    he was the first slave that i wanted as 24/7
    he was the only one i ever wanted 24/7
    he was a quick learner.
    he was smart
    he was the perfect sex slave
    he knew what to do and when to do it.
    but
    he would not move in or agree to 24/7
    he would be graduating in the late spring.
    he was the one i had been looking for
    he was everything i wanted
    he was incredible
    he was indispensable.
    he was my biggest frustration.
    he seemed to be measuring me one night with his fingers.
    he said he was figuring out what size to get for my Xmas present
    he was so cute about it that i told him to measure away.
    he was very upset at Xmas because my present hadn’t
    arrived yet
    he wasn’t consoled that i wasn’t upset
    he smiled when i told him a great blow job would do.
    He showed up on a rainy valentines day.
    He had a present and card for me.
    He had measured me for a “bill jones” chastity belt.
    He politely corrected me when i thought it was for him.
    He didn’t flinch when i became angry that it was for me
    He only commented that

    “if i could wear it for a month and remain dominate
    in every other way
    he would agree to be a 24/7 slave no questions ask.
    but if I did not He had the keys.”

    i knew he couldn’t go 24 hours with out sucking me off
    i knew he would want me out in a day or two
    i lasted less than a fraction of a second after the second lock clicked shut.
    i watched and felt the instantaneous exchange of power in total horror.
    i grabbed something to cover my embarrassment and shame (crotch)
    i realized it covered nothing important any more.
    i looked at Him in terror.
    He half smiled and said he would come by in the morning to check on me.
    He then just turned and left.
    i for once was with out words.
    i just stood there in horror for the longest time.
    i then fussed with it trying with out success to get it off.
    i was on my knees begging for it to come off the following night.
    i sucked him off for the first time hoping for a release
    i remained locked, “anyway”, for the next three years
    i was always secured down when it was removed for cleaning.
    i only experienced orgasms through prostrate massage
    i never experienced an orgasm stroking like a real man.
    i was cleaned and milked by prostrate massage once a week.
    He never moved in but had complete run of my house.
    i spent weekends locked in “my” cage in “my” dungeon
    i spent summer weekends chained to a tree in “my” back yard
    naked except for the belt.
    i lost the ability to become erect after a few months.
    i would moan and groan when being milked but cum only oozed out.
    i would be secured and then milked for amusment of His friends.
    i felt the humiliation of former slaves seeing me caged or milked.
    i felt the humiliation of former slaves laughing as
    i only moaned and oozed cum.
    i felt the humiliation of servicing former slaves
    i felt the out rage of watching Him have sex with my former slaves
    and others from my cage in my basement dungeon.
    i felt the out rage and jealousy of watching him while chained to a tree make love and have sex in my pool at night only to be left out there while He went inside and played in “my” dungeon with them.
    i learned to get over it.
    i learned to be grateful for the times i was allowed to service him.
    i learned to be grateful for the attention i received.
    i learned to be grateful for him showing me my true identity.
    i began to respect him for being smarter in every way
    i watched him become the point blank hottest Dom around.
    i felt the honor of being his number one slave.
    i began to crave his control
    i only wanted his control
    i only needed his control
    i only desired to please him
    i was able to concentrate on my business and it went from
    successful to incredibly successful.
    i was to the world this power house business man
    i was to him and the gay S/M community a sub human sex slave.
    i felt so content and happy with things the way they were.
    He graduated from grad school and became a nurse in the local hospital OR.
    i was so proud to be his slave
    And be the only person ask to attend his graduation.
    He began to talk about removing my balls when he massaged my prostrate
    He would talk about how i didn’t need them anyway.
    He talked about how life would be with out them
    He talked about how i wouldn’t need to wear the belt
    He talked only of that every time i had an orgasm for
    close to two years.
    He talked about how with his training he knew how to make it happen.
    He talked about how he knew how to turn me into an “it”
    He warned me that one night He would just do it
    He warned me that every orgasm could be my last.
    i began to associate cumming with castration
    Then one night he came over and was very distraught.
    He showed me a letter.
    He had been offered an incredible job that only a fool would refuse.
    He would have to move to distant city if he accepted it.
    i knew He needed to accept the job.
    He new i had a business to run and a mother in a nursing home to look after etc.
    We discussed our options …. actually He went over them and i
    listened as i had learned to do.
    i did comment that he really needed to accept the position.
    He said he would need to return the key.
    i begged him to keep it.
    He said that was not an option.
    Two weeks later he left town.
    i was devastated, especially when i found the keys on the kitchen table.
    i spent six months weaning myself out of the chastity belt
    i felt naked and vulnerable with out it.
    i spent another six months getting an erection and cumming per stroking.
    i spent years learning to cum with out thinking of castration.
    i considered donating mine to a man i knew who had a ball collection.
    i didn’t go through with it.
    i felt like a wimp for not going through with it.
    i became despondent
    i went into shock and depression a few months later when my mother passed.
    i began having trouble with my business
    i was totally wiped out financially when some men took my business
    i lost the big house thanks to them also.
    i was broke living in my van
    i was taken in by a friend.
    i was to proud to contact Him.
    i began to get stable again.
    i was living out east
    i was still struggling financially
    i got a phone call a couple years later
    it was a friend in common who had run into him
    He mentioned he wanted to see me again.
    i didn’t think twice
    i put on the belt and drove 800 miles plus on the outside chance
    He did want to see me.
    WE looked at each other and i handed him the keys before either spoke.
    WE were so right together.
    He was so right for me
    i was so right for him.
    WE made love all night.
    He came several times.
    i didn’t , i couldn’t , and that was how it should be.
    i returned home the next day driving 800 miles back.
    i cried the whole way.
    He had said i would hear from him soon.
    He had a strange hesitancy in his voice.
    i didn’t understand.
    i received a certified letter a few weeks later.
    it contained 1 key
    it was from a close friend of his.
    it said that He had to have surgery to re-correct child hood problems
    it said that He had not survived the surgery
    it said that He had ask that this key be sent to me
    That i should unlock what ever was locked and remove it.
    it said He had been buried with the other key.
    it closed with the writer saying that he never understood what
    went on between Him and i but he knew it was incredibly intense.
    i cried for weeks
    i buried the key in my family plot close to my stone
    i still keep his picture on my alter years later.

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