By Hunter Perez

My pal Jock is the most beautiful man in the world – or, at least I think so. He stands six-foot-five and has wavy reddish-blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin and the body of a muscle god. His voice is deep and soothing, and he’s been successful at everything he’s done.

I’m the exact opposite of Jock in terms of presentation and pursuits. We also have very little in common regarding life experiences or interests. Still, we’re the best of friends. I sometimes feel that his devotion to me is because of an uncharacteristic action on my part – I saved his life the first time I met him. (It’s a long story, which I’ll share with you another time.)

And while I cherish him as a friend, I freely admit that my bond with him has a foundation in unrequited lust. He doesn’t feel that way about me, but I’m fine with that.

Sometimes, I have difficulty hiding my lustful thoughts about Jock – especially if we’re poolside or at the beach and he’s tucked himself into the tiniest of swimwear. When that happens, I have to find a way to disguise the boner that inevitably pops up when Jock is exposing so much of himself.

That’s not the situation tonight in his kitchen – not because he isn’t his usual gorgeous self. In his tight emerald green t-shirt and even tighter khaki shorts, he would give me a pants-breaking erection if I could have one. Unfortunately, I found myself in a titanium chastity belt locked around my groin and waist – and Jock is the only guy I know who can pick locks.

Jock is rarely at a loss for words, but he was unusually quiet as he examined the belt that was secured around my body. He tapped its surface a few times and then dropped to his knee to get a closer look at the metal cup that imprisoned by balls and dick.

“Okay, Bingo, how did you get yourself into this?” he finally said. Jock refers to me as Bingo – he’s the only one who calls me that. (There’s also a story behind that, but I’ll tell you another time.)

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Can you get me out of it?”

“I like long stories,” he replied. “If I didn’t have the pleasure for your metallic company, I’d be on my couch reading ‘Atlas Shrugged.’ But I’ll trade that long story for yours – how did you get yourself into this?”

I tried to make eye contact with Jock, but I felt embarrassed and stared past him instead. “Well, I saw this belt in a video with JimmyUSMC, and it looked so hot on his body. I love watching him squirm when he’s in bondage situations.”

Jock stood up and shook his head in disbelief. “Bingo, you need to differentiate between fantasy and reality. I can assume that JimmyUSMC does not get himself stuck in titanium chastity belts when the cameras aren’t rolling. So, what happened to the keys? You’re not a careless person, Bingo, so I know you didn’t misplace them.”

I could feel Jock staring at me with disapproval, but I didn’t want to return his gaze. “Someone has them and won’t give them back. Come on, Jock, can you get me out of this?”

“I won’t do anything to help you unless I know the circumstances behind your problem,” he said firmly. “Now, come on, I’m not going to pass judgment on you. Who has the keys?”

“Ivan and Vlad,” I blurted out, still not looking directly at him.

There was a long silence, and then I felt Jock’s fingers on my jaw and he moved my face in his direction. “Ivan and Vlad?” he asked. “I never heard you mention them before. Where do you know these guys from?”

It wasn’t a dumb or intrusive question – I confide in Jock about everyone I come in contact with, but I never cited them before. I wanted to tell Jock a lie about them, but Jock always knows when I am not telling the truth.

“They are bodybuilders from Estonia,” I said at a much lower decibel level than my usual voice. “I met them on an escort site.”

Jock groaned and paced away from me. “You allowed yourself to be locked in a chastity belt by a couple of Estonian bodybuilder escorts? Come on, little guy, why would you do something like that?”

“Please don’t call me ‘little guy,’” I protested. “Just because I’m five-foot-seven…”

“You’re five-foot-five,” he corrected. “I know that – I’m exactly one foot taller than you. And why do you need to be hiring escorts? You’re a good-looking guy, Bingo, you don’t need to pay for companionship.”

I started to become upset and sat down, allowing my head to drop to my chest. Jock came over and put a muscular arm around me. “It’s okay, Bingo – I’m not finding fault with you. You know that you mean the world to me.”

I looked to Jock and smiled wanly. “Can you get me out of this thing, Jock?”

Jock walked to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of soda. He opened them both and handed one to me. Between sips, I started to explain.

“Well, I originally hired Ivan and Vlad for role play and domination, before I got the belt,” I explained. “It was a lot of fun worshipping them and being dominated by these two huge muscle guys. And I’d go ape shit when they would flex and pose for me. I always wound up making a mess of myself – I’d shoot cum by the gallons whenever I played with them. When I got the belt, it fit perfectly and I was very excited – especially when I tried to get hard, because my dick is in a tube and whenever I get excited the tube keeps it firmly in place, which is an incredible feeling while I’m throbbing in carnal ecstasy.”

“Throbbing in carnal ecstasy?” Jock repeated with bemusement. I looked at him defensively and his broad shoulders sank. “Sorry, Bingo, I’m not being critical – I never heard that expression before. Hey, my idea of a good time on a Saturday night is reading, so who am I to pass judgment? Please continue telling me what happened.”

“Well,” I said. “Playing with Ivan and Vlad while belted was even more exciting to me. The more they dominated me and flexed and posed, the harder I became and the tighter my dick felt in the belt. The denial aspect on my cock was even more invigorating than being able to cum like Niagara Falls. One night, we were drinking and I guess I had too much – because I said that I would love to have my dick locked up by them and to be their cock-slave. The next thing I knew, Ivan had me in a headlock and Vlad pulled the keys from my pants pocket and put them in a wall safe.”

“And how long have you been locked in that thing?” Jock asked between swallows of his soda.

“That was three weeks ago,” I said, sheepishly. “I’ve asked for it back, of course, but they insist that I wanted to be enslaved by them and they are honoring my request. I’ve seen them several times to play and it’s still a lot of fun, but they said that I’m their property now and the earliest they would consider letting me out is in at least six months from now. Jock, please can you get me out of this thing?”

Jock took my now-empty soda bottle and put it with his in the kitchen sink. He turned and leaned on the sink, shaking his head sadly while folding his arms across his chest. Jock didn’t realize it, but his muscular arms folded tightly over his beefy chest was an arousing vision for me, and I grabbed my crotch and started to rock.

“Can you please not stand that way?” I asked. “You don’t realize it, but you’re damn sexy when your arms are crossed that way – your biceps pop and that’s starting to impact me down in the tube.”

Jock shook his arms loose and grinned slightly. “Sorry, Bingo. I didn’t mean to give you a hard-on like that. But back to you – shouldn’t you call a locksmith or maybe the fire department to get you out of that? You know, I haven’t picked locks in a long time. And I did promise that handsome cop that I would never do that again after he caught me trying to break into that store.”

“I can’t go to a locksmith and ask him to unlock my cock – I’d be embarrassed,” I protested. “And I’ve seen several stories online about firemen having to use power tools to rescue guys in this situation. I don’t want to be all over the Internet as the guy who got trapped in a chastity belt. Come on, Jock, can you please get me out of this?”

Jock shook his head and sighed before opening a cabinet door under the kitchen’s sink. He pulled out a small toolbox, which he rested in the sink. After a minute of searching through the toolbox, he pulled out a long, thin metal rod. He came back to where I was sitting and got on his knees before me.

“Okay, I will give it my best – and I’m glad I kept this thing as a souvenir from my delinquent past,” he said. “I don’t know if I can still do this and I hope that I don’t make a bad situation worse. Just hold still while I try to pick the lock.”

Jock leaned forward and studied the belt’s lock before reaching forward to insert the metal rod. As I watched him, his emerald green t-shirt seemed to grow tighter on his pale muscular torso. My caged cock began to throb in its metal prison and I found myself rocking in my chair while kicking my feet.

“Please don’t fidget, Bingo,” Jock said. “I need you to sit still while I work on this.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, shutting out the vision of Jock’s physical beauty. But what I couldn’t see, I felt with his forearms resting on my legs and could inhale with the intoxicating aroma of his cologne. My imprisoned cock kept revolting against its restraint, causing the rest of my body to rock. I opened my eyes and saw Jock glaring at me with disappointment. I started to apologize when Jock stood up and left the kitchen, muttering that he would be back in a few minutes. He kept his word, returning with a few belts in his hand plus a small thin box.

“I’m sorry, Bingo, but I have to make sure you don’t fidget while I’m picking the lock,” he explained. “The last thing I want is to break the metal rod in the lock. Please put your hands behind the back of the chair.”

I obeyed Jock’s request and he stepped behind the chair. I heard a metallic jingle and within a few seconds I felt handcuffs snapped on my wrists.

“We’re not doing our own JimmyUSMC video – this is just so you can hold still while I work,” he said. Within a minute, he had my ankles, my ankles and my waist secured to the chair with his belts. Jock asked if I could move and attempted motion, but found myself immobilized in place on the chair. Jock patted my head and went back to being on his knees while studying the belt’s lock.

“This really is quite a contraption,” he said, squinting while he slowly inserted the metal rod into the lock. “Except for not getting hard, there is no pain elsewhere? No problems pissing or cleaning yourself?”

“No, those aren’t problems,” I said. “And my cock isn’t in pain – it is a strangely arousing sensation, but not a painful one.”

“You’re still hard in there?” Jock asked. I nodded and he grinned.

I looked up at the ceiling and tried to calm myself, which was not easy since the restraints that bound me to the chair were tight and my cock still ached in its metal prison. Jock worked quietly, his forearms heavy on my legs. After a few minutes of silence, I heard a faint click – followed by Jock exhaling “Yes!” I looked down and saw Jock withdraw the metal rod from the lock as the front of the belt hung open.

“To answer your question: Yes, I can get you out of that belt,” he exclaimed with a big smile. “Honestly, I didn’t think I could do it, But, damn, I could get you out.”

“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Jock!” I yelled. “If I wasn’t tied up like this, I would hug you and kiss you.”

Jock laughed as he stood up. “Of course you would, Bingo. I’ll work around your current restrictions.”

Jock bent over and put his face before mine. I closed my eyes and puckered my lips. As Jock’s lips touched mine, I felt Jock lean slightly into me – which was then followed by another click. I quickly looked down and saw Jock’s hands squeezing closed the briefly opened belt.

“What did you do?” I cried. “You locked me back in!”

Jock stood back and winked at me. “I know. You asked me if I could get you out of that belt. And I could. But why should Ivan and Vlad have you as their cock-slave? We’re best friends, Bingo – if anything, you should be my cock-slave.”

“You’re not going to let me out of this?” I whimpered.

“Eventually, but not at the moment,” he said, slipping off his t-shirt. “Besides, I’m doing you a favor. Why should you have to pay Ivan and Vlad to see their muscles when you can see mine for free?”

Jock started to enact bodybuilder poses in front of me, showing off this highly muscled torso. My imprisoned cock became engorged in its metal captivity – the belts and handcuffs kept me tight to the chair, internalizing my carnal convulsions.

“What are friends for, Bingo?” Jock asked as he straddled my lap and held his right bicep under my nose. “We ought to do this more often – this really is a lot of fun.”

As Jock weighed down on my lap while enacting lat spreads within an inch of me, I could only think to myself: How do I get myself into situations like this?

The End