By BondageChallengeGames

Andrew had one hour to torture the lockbox code out of me and get the key to his chastity cage. We’d come up with the idea of the scene a few weeks ago, as a fun way to do some interrogation with actual consequences and a goal. A way for me to get to endure some of the torment I enjoy during bondage, and a motivator for him to really try and break me.

We didn’t expect to get as emotionally charged as we did.

By the day he brought me into his garage for the scene, he’d been kept in chastity for over a week. Andrew’s husband had loved the idea and served as his keyholder. Andrew was finding chastity to be so much more frustrating than he’d thought. So as he led me handcuffed into his garage, I could tell this wasn’t going to be the carefree fun scene we’d both thought, rather this was his only chance to finally get out of the cage he’d grown to despise.

Likewise, I was a lot more motivated to keep the code a secret than I thought I would be. Over the course of the week, Andrew’s husband, Tom, had called me over four times. I enjoy joining them for bdsm, usually once every two weeks or so. But apparently Andrew was insatiably horny with his cage on, and Tom was enjoying how desperate his husband was and wanted me to join the fun more frequently. Normally I sub when I’m with them, sometimes dommed by both, sometimes subbing with Tom as Andrew dommed us. But this week, Tom and I were in control. Andrew was so willing to do anything for any sort of stimulation, he’d suck us off, let us fuck him, and let himself be tied up and used just for some amount of sexual pleasure. It had been a very fun week, and the thought of Andrew trapped in his horny state for another one was incredibly appealing.

And so, as the scene began, Andrew was ready to do anything to make me talk, and I was prepared to endure anything to keep him as a horny desperate sub.

With my hands cuffed behind me, he led me over to a wall in his garage where he and Tom had drilled eyebolts into the wall. He locked the handcuffs to one of the hooks, and then pulled my jeans and briefs down, helping me step out of them, and exposing my already hard dick. He attached locking leather cuffs to each ankle and spread my legs apart, locking each one to a hook with a heavy padlock. Reaching around me, he unlocked the handcuffs and the lock connecting them to the wall. He grabbed one of my wrists and put a locking leather wrist cuff on it. As he led my cuffed hand to a hook, I used my free hand to grab his jeans, feeling the cage underneath.

“Are you excited for another week?” I taunted.

He padlocked my wrist to the hook, slapped me across the face, and grabbed my other wrist to lock it in a cuff. His grip was strong and bordering on painful; I could tell this wasn’t a game to him anymore.

He locked my other wrist to a hook so that my body made an X, spreadeagle standing up against the wall. He grabbed the white tank top I wore, the last piece of clothing on my body, save for the blindfold, and tore it off, leaving my back to touch the cold garage wall, and my chest exposed for him to abuse.

He grabbed my neck, firmly, but not so hard as to choke me.

“What’s the code, Kyle?”

“Fuck you.”

He let go of my neck and slapped me across the face again, harder than the last time. I felt a sharp pinching pain on my nipples that remained as he hit my stomach with a flogger.

My hour of torture had begun.

To be continued …