Side Effects – Chapter 8

By GratDelay

male BDSM storiesIt was crazy what we were doing. Why? Adin was clearly devastated, just as I had been the day before. But this was his second time, and I knew in my heart that I would do it again if I got the chance. Even knowing that while it was happening, I would know, again, beyond any doubt, that I had made a terrible mistake. Even before Adin showed up with his improbable drug, I had spent a lot mental energy on figuring out ways to make that unbearable feeling last. I had told Adin that this drug was too much, way too much, because the need outweighed the pleasure; but at this point I was wondering how many doses were in the canister, if I’d ever get my hands on it again, and if Adin or someone would administer the rites, as it were.

I said ‘Adin or someone’, but I meant Adin. I had received his message loud and clear, I thought, about our relationship; but this was something else. We now shared a bond of a different sort. It really was a rite, a rite of passage, that we two, and no one else, had survived. I had called it a near-religious experience, but now I was taking the notion more seriously. I knew, for instance, that if I ever did find someone I cared about as deeply as I did Adin, that I would want him to share this rite with me, with us.

Adin had quieted down. “Fuck me.” he said. He said it in the tone that meant jeez I’m over-wrought .

“So, would you say stimulation adds a little something to the overall experience? You should be taking notes, you know. For science.”

“Science can fuck me too.” he said, “There is no comparison at all. If I could have, I would have chopped my dick off or smashed my head with a hammer to get away.”

“You need to work on your sexy talk.”

He was being serious, “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. But please don’t tell me you’re thinking about harming yourself. Since my brother… I take these thing seriously.”

He looked up at me intently, like he was inspecting the inside of my skull. I guess he sort of was, if that other drug did what it seemed to do. I wished I had some of that in me, so I could read him right now.

“I don’t know, Liam. The paralysis part is almost like a built-in safety system. It might be better if it lasted even longer. I think you should always do the bondage thing too, like we did.”

“You’re talking like there’s going to be a next time.”

He grinned, then tried to squirm. “Does that really surprise you?”

“I’d been thinking about how to get you give me the canister, but I figured that’s for me. Even though you’ve done it twice now, I didn’t assume you’d ever want to again.”

“I have a different perspective now.”

“Cuz of your other magic drug.”

“No, not really. Sort of? You’ve gone on and on about edging, and it always sounded crazy.” He blushed a bit. “To be honest, I thought you were into it because you tend to get off too quickly. I’ve never had a problem with that.”

I blushed too. I’ve always hated how quickly I come. Even in my goddamned expensive chastity belts! But Adin was still explaining, “But I hadn’t experienced it. Edging, I mean. Making it last and being edged aren’t the same thing.”

I nodded vigorously. “Even when you’re trying to make it last, you get to a point where you say ‘fuck it’, or your body does, and you shoot your load. But the real edge experience starts when you get to that ‘fuck it’ point and sail right past it.”

Adin nodded back. “What I’m saying is, I never imagined what it would be like, I never could imagine what it would be like.” He looked up at the wall behind him. “So I guess the other drug is involved, just because it unlocked something in me, that just let me try things. Things that weren’t on the list of things I do, just because.”

I sort of got that last part. “Well, however that worked, I’m glad. Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll ever have another weekend as intense as this in my whole life.”

“Oh, more emo crap!”

I gave him a noogie. Then a wet willy.

Adin discovered, to his dismay, that I didn’t need to release him from the sack to pee. With some effort, I slid him off the bed and stood him up. I strapped him upright to one of the bedposts, and then brought him a milk jug, a hose, and a strange funnel I’d learned about at Burning Man of all places. “It’s a pee funnel. Women use them to pee standing up.”

“Why would they want to do that?”

“Have you ever been in a port-a-potty that you wouldn’t want to sit down in?”

“Like you mean all of them? I get it now.”

“Anyway, I figured out they work just as well for me. Makes Folsom Street Fair a lot easier.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, “Folsom Street Fair, Folsom Street Fair, yadda yadda yadda. I told you I’m not going, so drop it!”

“Hey, this hose doesn’t have to go into the jug, you know.”

Adin got a very wary look. The sleepsack gave a creaking sound that I recognized. His fight or flight instinct had just gone ping, and his body decided to test its bonds again.

I looked him quizzically. “Did you think I would really do that?”

Adin said, “Please don’t.”

Was I disappointed? I had been sure I would never, and now I would never, because he didn’t want it. But I thought I didn’t want it. Or had I thought Mr. Cross-Every-Boundary was going to compel me somehow?

While sorting out these unsortables, I unlaced an opening (finding out that getting the funnel into the right position was harder than I had expected with he legs pressed together), let him pee, and laced him back up.

Or maybe he misread me, I thought. Is his emo drug wearing off?

I stood in front of him, popping open the tit flaps and kneading his pecs and nipples. “So, now what? Call of Duty? CounterStrike?”

“I was thinking we could go to the Renaissance Faire.”

“Finally, something interesting to do!”

Adin grinned, then got solemn and said, “Actually, now that I’ve gone this far, I want to go a little further.”

I was very interested.

“I want to try being gagged. And hooded.”

My cock tried to surge yet again, but I hesitated. “Adin, I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Is this more of you deciding that I’ll be weirded out? After all this?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that at all. The hood, no problem. But the gag… look, I love gags, conceptually, but I almost never use them. Especially not in a first-time situation like this, and extra because your uh, heightened arousal. It makes communication a lot harder.”

“Uh, yeah! Duh, it’s a gag!”

“Exactly! Look, almost every time I ask to be gagged, I immediately start freaking out. What if the top wanders off and doesn’t monitor me? What if I need to tell him I’m having a real problem, physical or mental, and can’t? What if he decides to cross a boundary we haven’t discussed, and I can’t get him to stop? What if he’s just incompetent and I have to tell him he’s doing it wrong.”

Adin got that brain-inspecting look again. “You have control issues.”

“This is news.”

“No, I mean it. I think I understand why you have all this gear and almost never play with anybody.”

I felt a bit wounded, but it was true.

“I thought it was just because you were mooning over me, but there’s more to it. You love bondage, but are afraid the real deal won’t go exactly the way you think it should. You can’t possibly prepare enough, can you? You can’t find the perfect top who knows exactly what to do and how to do it, and what not to do. You can’t communicate all of your requirements.”

I sat down on the bed next to him. My cock actually pulled back in the tube, for the first time since he had put it on me. Maybe his emo drug wasn’t wearing off.

“Too much emo?” Adin said, sympathetically. “You can get me to stop, you know. There is a way to shut me up.”

Cripes, how did he do that? I stood up. His literally withering criticism had a corollary of course: say yes. Try things, and see what happens.

“Alright alright already! But now you don’t get to choose the gag!”

I chose the one least likely to actually cause gagging, at least on me, and it happened to be best at preventing actual talking. In the stories, gags magically made it impossible for the victim to get any words out, and some of them caused complete silence. That would be cool! Actually, most gags can be talked around. But not my inflatable rubber butterfly gag. It was a bit tricky to get its odd shape into the right places, but we did it, and I pumped it up enough to scare him, then backed it off a bit. “You’ll actually get used to it, and then you might think it’s deflating, but it isn’t.”

He nodded, working his jaw, exploring how this thing interacted with his lips, teeth, tongue. It squished around, never getting out of the way.

“So, when you’ve had enough of it and want it out, just say, ‘Liam, please remind me again what my safeword is.’ Try it now.”

He chuckled, then tried talking. I couldn’t understand a thing he was saying.

“Right about now, you are thinking of things to say. Maybe to describe what the gag feels like, or how comfortable it is, or how long you would like to wear it. So you need to understand, the main feeling of the gag is not from its shape in your mouth. It’s how it feels in your mind when you realize you can’t tell me those interesting things.”

I’d waited for years to give that speech to someone! Would it work?

Adin tried to talk again, then groaned. Then I think he tried to say, “You fucker!” but I’m just guessing.

“I hope you realize how hard this is for me,” I said, “Every time you try to say something, I have to fight off the urge to pull the gag out. What the hell is Adin talking about now? Is it important?”

He glared at me.

“Oh well. He can tell me later.”

He shook his head violently, not in negation, but trying to shake the gag loose.

“So, to continue the communication theme, I brought you these.” I held up some foam ear plugs. They were the latest nano-foam kind, with a dB rating of 100.

Mumble mumble MUMBLE.

“Yeah, I thought so too,” I said, as I rolled one up and stuffed it in his left ear. I turned his head the other way and did his right ear. Sound would be seeping away gradually, as the foam expanded.

“How does that sound?” I said, loudly and clearly.

He looked at me intently, then shook his head. I gave him a thumbs up.

I had the perfect hood for this situation. It was made of padded leather, great for muffling sound, not that that would be an issue; and great for keeping all light from reaching the eyes. But it left the mouth exposed, which meant I could pop the gag out quickly and easily if needed. I held it up in front of Adin, so he could contemplate it.

I pointed at his head with an inquisitive look. He didn’t react immediately and enthusiastically. His jaw worked again, and he jiggled his head, still trying to dislodge something, but then, more determinedly than cheerfully, he nodded.

This is one of those hoods that I could put on myself faster than I could put it on someone else, just because that’s the angle I was used to working from. Still, I knew what I was doing, and got it place over the nose correctly and settled the rest of it from there, and laced it up in back. I ran my head down one side of it, and then down his chest. He gave out a sort of puppy-dog whine. His head turned this way and that, as if he was trying to see where the light had gone.

I figured 10 minutes would be enough. He probably didn’t realize how far awry his time sense would go in a sensory deprivation situation like this.

I stood back, taking in my handiwork. I had two conflicting impressions. The first was a feeling of being cut off. This was the first time I was out of contact with him since this crazy event started. It felt a little lonely, and I immediately wanted to talk to him about that. Stupid gag!

The second impression was like a jolt of adrenaline. That was Adin in there! Adin was my captive. After years of fantasies and un-mentioned impulses (plus many flirty hints which he had put up with), something I thought impossible was happening. “This is happening!” I said aloud, to myself.

What was I thinking?? I grabbed my camera off my dresser, starting shooting pictures. That only took a minute or two. I went back to drinking in the sight.

He was upright before me, strapped to my bedpost, in a heavy leather sleepsack, laced up with thick red cord. His head was encased in more leather, with only a bit of skin visible around a black gag strapped into his mouth.

Inside (and I could see it all, in my mind’s eye), his arms were pinned at his sides by leather sleeves. His legs were pressed together by the tight confines of the sleepsack, but I had been considerate enough to put a padded insert between the bony parts of his knees and ankles. Around his waist was a steel belt, from which hung another steel band that ran down across his tailbone and between his ass cheeks, flaring out a bit for an opening near his ass (though this opening had a metal plate over it at the moment), and then rising straight up across his junk, terminating back at the belt. Behind this vertical band was a metal tube, which held his poor engorged cock straight down. Right where his cock should have been pointing outwards, a marbled black and white silicone shape pointed instead. It was clearly phallic, in an ultra-modern stylized way. It stuck several inches out through the otherwise closed up opening of the sleep sack, bracketed by the diamond-pattern of the thick lacing.

Behind the free fake cock and the imprisoned real one, deep inside his pelvis, a smooth cylinder of steel was nestled up against his prostate. As he flexed various muscles in there, it moved about, keeping the prostate happy. A bit of rubber tubing descended from the steel cylinder to a steel disk on the other side of his hole. He may not have found this out, but the steel band of the chastity belt was keeping him from expelling the metal invading his chute.

And in his brain, a strange chemical was zinging his hypothalamus, causing a cascade of signals through his body that turned his sex drive up to eleven. At the same time, it was sending another signal to the nervous system, forbidding orgasm.

So poor Adin was in a bind. No doubt that was why he was squirming so much. I moved closer to listen. He was moaning. I was becoming an expert on the range of his moans, and I could tell he was really really horny, but not at the breaking point. I remembered this stage, where the balance of pleasure and need was close to the edging-lover’s ideal. Sweet! I guess the sensory deprivation and gagging suited him.

Still, I remembered feeling cut off and isolated when he had hooded me, so I laid my hands on his shoulders, just to let him know I was there. He flinched at the unexpected contact, then relaxed. I thought I sensed that a certain tension eased out of his body. He started squirming again. Did he just waggle that dildo at me??

I wanted to do something with that dildo. My ass was feeling left out of the party. I wondered what a plug would have felt like while I was still under the influence of the brem part of the brem drug. Could I take it? I wanted to find out. But for now… I sighed.

I let Adin stew for another 10 minutes. Yeah, I went longer than I had intended, but I was listening to his breathing and vocalizations, and he didn’t seem to be tiring of his situation. If his ass and jaw didn’t become tired of their intruders, he could go like this for quite some time; at least under normal circumstances. But he was new to bondage, new to sensory deprivation, new to being gagged, new to being plugged, and the sexual pressure was surely mounting again.

I wanted to talk to him about my impressions, to ask him exactly how he was doing so I could know when to let him out, to resume our usual banter. Damn that gag! I laughed. It was exactly this frustration that made gags a big turn-on for me — and it did cause the fear Adin had identified. He’s right again I thought, I have to say yes more. Experience it rather than plan it to death. Here he was, first time in bondage, as far as I knew, and already doing the things that I dreamed about and mostly shied away from actually doing.

Adin groaned, and it sounded… grumpy? I patted one shoulder, then wiggled the gag. He nodded vigorously. I pressed my mouth up to one side of the hood and shouted, “What do you say?”

He gave a loud sigh through his noise, then carefully enunciated thirteen incomprehensible syllables. Close enough! I tugged until the bizarre black balloon popped out of his mouth, a trail of saliva following it. I saw his tongue and jaw working, and he swallowed a few times. The he said, too loudly, “Ha! I fooled you. I said, “Liam go fuck yourself and the horse you rode in on.”

I answered, “I missed you too!” Unfortunately he couldn’t hear me.

I closed all the curtains and turned off the lights before removing the hood. I pulled the plugs from his ears. I found I was glad to see his beautiful face again, even sweaty and marked as it was, with pressure points from the hood and the strap that had held the gag in. As soon as I saw it, I knew what he needed. I ran to get the water bottle, this time filled with an electrolyte drink. He guzzled it gratefully.

I started unstrapping him from the bedpost. “Are you balancing yourself?” I asked, and he nodded. Once the straps were all set aside, I maneuvered him back onto the bed. Unexpectedly, he sighed contentedly, so rather than unlace him, I propped a pillow under his head. “Are you doing alright?”

He grinned up at me. “You should come on in here. It’s super comfy, though a little cramped. Makes it hard to move around inside, you know?”

I put my leg over and sat on his chest. “Oof!” he said. I popped open the tit flaps and pinched his nipples. He hissed. “You are such a natural at this!” I said.

“What does that mean? All I’m doing is being here, inside the bag, feeling what it feels like.”

“What does it feel like? What are your impressions of your first bondage experience?”

“It’s fun!” he said.

“Fun? Not hot? horny? erotic? stimulating?”

“Fun. You know I’m horny and why. I’m liking the experience of resistance to anything I do. It’s a trip to have all your options eliminated. It’s sort of like meditation… a meditation on choicelessness. And you can kinda go wild if you want, safe in the knowledge that you won’t break a lamp or something.” He paused, thinking, “What else… oh yeah, I’m horny as fuck and want to get off sooooo bad.”

“ ‘Misery loves company’ trope.”

“That’s not a trope, that’s an aphorism.”

I picked up the sticky gag and waved it threateningly in his face.

“Help help, I’m being repressed! The truth will out!”

“You’re just asking to see the violence inherent in the system, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am holding forth the sword Excaliber, though my arm isn’t clad in the finest shimmering samite.”

I remembered my responsibilities as top. “How is your ass, by the way?”

He wiggled under me and said, “fine, I guess? How’s yours?”

I wiggled back at him. “It’s lonely.”

He wiggled again. I grinned. “Seriously?!”

Another wiggle. “Really seriously?”

“As long as I can watch your face.”

I jumped off of him and the bed and ran around in a circle. I didn’t realize that was what I was doing until I had done it. I was trying to get ready, to build a quick checklist in my head and check it off.

Adin said with fake dejection, “I thought he’d like that idea.”

I ran back to the bed and grabbed his head so I could kiss him on his forehead.

Then I snatched up the lube, and ran to the bathroom to fill another shooter. Lucky me, Adin had made me clean my ass out earlier.

I was rushing. Why was I rushing? Haha, even if he said he changed his mind, he was trussed up tight, and he couldn’t take back the proffered implement. I forced myself to breath a few times. Okay.

I went back into the bedroom. Adin was still there, still trapped in my bondage gear, still smiling at me. I felt a bubble of joy welling up. Also, I dripped precum on the carpet.

Some knot in me that I hadn’t even known existed silently came undone. Even then, after everything that had happened that weekend, I was still letting go of something more. Something that I was… I don’t know… hiding under? I couldn’t really define it. But what became clear was that my ‘respect’ for people’s boundaries all my life had meant me trying to stay away from them entirely. Which was stupid! because I had no idea where their boundaries were. And it was as if I was afraid if I came in contact with a boundary, it would collapse, crushing the poor soul inside. Was I really so powerful? Was the person I hid inside really such a monster that everyone would run screaming if they caught a glimpse? Maybe people were made of sterner stuff, and my kinks weren’t so appalling.

I figured out the words later; what really happened in that moment was like a switch flipping. I hoped it would stay flipped, but realized I’d probably have to practice.

Anyway, I reached the bed, climbed onto it, and sat on my feet next to my best friend, the man who was shattering my little world. One last time, I asked, “Really?” and he waggled the strap-on dildo suggestively. So I turned away from his head and straddled him. I scootched backwards, imitating what he had done to me less than 24 hours earlier. Was that right, less than a day? Anyway, I presented my ass to his face, mere inches away. I dropped my head and looked at him between my legs, past the steel strap that he had locked on me. He was pressing his head back into the pillow, looking none too happy. I said, “Did you want to try something new, like I did earlier, in the shower?”

He shook his head, lips clenched shut.

“Okay,” I said, sliding away from his face. “Never come that close before, have you?”

Sounding a little tense, he answered, “No. Well, actually… there was judo.”

“Oh, that’s right! You’re already an experienced butt-muncher!”

He laughed, and I felt him relax beneath me. I hope he saw how I had been taking his advice. He said, “Hey we wore protection! Cotton protection.”

“Gay!”

“Are you gonna do me or what?”

“On it.” I answered, and then made him watch me lubricate my hole, slipping the lube shooter past the steel cable that ran through my ass crack.

I swore and clambered off of him. I’d left the bottle of lube in the bathroom. Details, details.

I came back and lubed up the daunting shaft. At that moment, without me noticing how it happened, it had gone from ridiculous looking to daunting. I wished it was his shaft that I would be impaling myself on, but at least there he was beneath me, staring at me.

He wasn’t smiling. He was watching quite intently.

I straddled him again, this time sitting on his belly, the dildo pressing against my belt. I paused, watching his eyes, which were focused were the action was about to happen. I waited, until he finally looked up at me. Our eyes locked. I was still waiting for something.

A slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes? Something revealed itself, and I could move. I rose up, reaching back to shift the rear cable out of the way, and I started the unhurried process of lowering myself onto his substitute cock.

I kept my eyes on his, but his were trying to take in two things at once: the sight of something like that going into my body, which I’m pretty sure he’d never seen before; and my face, as I reacted to what was happening at my other end.

What was happening at my other end was pretty calamitous. Fuck, it’s huge! was my first thought. My second was, Adin was wrong, this drug is still working on me, because every nerve in my asshole fired off signals at once, and sent them all to my groin. I hissed, and raised myself up. I felt Adin’s hips shift under me. I wondered if this did anything for him at all.

Down I went again, a little deeper. I concentrated on pushing out, just enough, not too much. Then I breathed and remembered the trick of it. Just like that, I settled, taking the whole thing in.

The funny angled tip gave my prostate a knock as it went by. Yeehaw!

Adin laughed.

“Did I say that out loud?”

With fake solemnity, he replied, “Say what out loud?”

“Hmmmmm.” I shifted a bit, enjoying the feeling of fullness.

“Does it… hurt? You don’t look like it hurts.”

“Not this time.”

“How can you do that? It’s fucking enormous!”

“I guess you just have to be ready for it, and not fight it.”

He gave an experimental twitch of his hips. I smiled. “Be careful. If you keep that up, you will be fucking a guy… In the gay place.”

Adin laughed and started bucking up and down, as much as he could trussed up like he was.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down!” I said, “I’m not quite ready for that!”

“Ooops, sorry.”

“It’s all right, let me just work up to it.”

I started my own movements, using this deep probe to explore the shape of my own ass. It’s weird to learn how much detail you can feel in parts of your body that normally seemed virtually absent. There were all kinds of sensory nerves that your body used to process, for example, food, and it took a while to raise their signals up to you conscious awareness. That’s how it had been for me, anyway. I suppose Adin, the natural, already got it all, in 3D.

“How’s your plug doing in there? Still sending you happy thoughts?”

“Yeah, I thought the batteries had died, but now they’re zinging away again.”

I was glad to hear it. Maybe this was more than an academic exercise for him. Now that I had concealed the dildo in my body, he mostly kept his attention on my face. I’m sure it was a sight to see, because I was getting the hang of this sex toy. I knew just how much to lift up to get the slightly edged bit to interface with my prostate. Then it was like a lab rat that had learned to press the button on the pellet dispenser. Zing! Zing! Zing! Bolts of pleasure shot up my spine. Every nerve in my cock and balls lit up, and the steel shaft trapping my cock felt fantastic. My whole groin was aglow with pleasure.

“Nnnnnnnnngahhhh,” I said, or something like that. Adin was humming appreciatively, that sort of rhythmic “mmmm” that they all do in the porn I watched. His face looked less studious and more… soft?… open? I wanted to bend down and kiss him, but I didn’t think I could with this semi-rigid pole impaling me. Something passed between us, something I can’t describe, but it seemed to encapsulate all that we shared and all that we could and couldn’t express for each other. It was like an eternal and holy nod to each other as we went about our lives together.

Then Adin came. Only not, of course.

I guess he was more worked up than I had thought. The drug was still in its primary effect phase with him. The sight of it flipped all my switches on, and my whole body spasmed ecstatically. I think we both were pretty loud at that point.

I didn’t come either.

“Fuck” Adin said.

“Fuck me” I agreed.

I rose again, moaned again. Good lord I was hot! This went on for a while, as I tried everything I could think of to get off. At one point Adin eventually got to buck up and down, fucking my ass. We ended up laughing at the ridiculousness of it.

It gets to be a problem, when lovemaking can’t reach its natural conclusion. You have to come up with an alternate ending. In this case, it was our asses. Adin had lasted much longer than I had expected with his first anal experience; and I had a much larger pole violating me, but we had both reached our point of diminishing returns. We were both still wildly horny, but our chutes were fatigued. With a sigh and a shudder, I un-impaled myself. I thought about how ludicrous our lovemaking had been, with both of our cocks sealed away from each other. In a way, we had still not had sex with each other.

Adin was staring at a corner of the ceiling, looking nettled.

I grabbed a hand towel and wiped off the dildo before unlacing and unzipping the sleepsack. I had an urge to hurry, worried that he was sick of it and shouldn’t have to endure it second longer. I unsnapped the collar and unzipped the internal sleeves. He reached out and flexed everything beyond his shoulder joints, than sat up, extricating his feet. The dildo suddenly went from daunting back to ridiculous. I was glad he hadn’t left the other one on my belt.

I was still anxious that he had had too much of the bondage, but as soon as he got out of the sleepsack he grabbed me in a headlock and ground his knuckle into my scalp. “Owwww!”

“Thank you,” he said. I pulled out from his arm so I could see his face again, even though I’d been staring at it for what seemed like hours. “Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah. That was intense. I had no idea.”

My throat constricted and my eyes wanted to water. “Thank you, Adin. Thank you.” I couldn’t think how to express how much gratitude I was feeling. It wasn’t just about fantasies impossibly coming true. He had smashed something apart in me, and I felt like I was free.

Hugs were problematic with the schlong sticking out, so he rested his hand on my chest, and I on his.

“Okay, that thing has to go. It’s supposed to go down after.”

“I told you Liam: you can’t satisfy my sexual appetites.”

I pawed through things on the dresser until I found the keys to that belt. I unlocked it and slid the dildo off. I carried it to the bathroom wrapped it in the towel, then washed my hands. I went back to the bedroom and reached out to unlatch the rest of Adin’s belt, but he grabbed my hand. “That still wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“You were serious about needing a belt the first time?”

He nodded. “And you still need yours,” he said, answering my question before I asked it. I responded with a disappointed, “awwww.” The rest of the weekend was going to be rough. At least Adin was sharing my dilemma.

“Oh crap, I forgot! Sorry!” I said, grabbing him and pushing him towards the bathroom, “Let’s get that plug out of you.”

As we cleaned ourselves up, and I showed him how to shower with a chastity belt on, I got him to admit that the prostate made all the logistics and hygiene worthwhile. I resolved to buy him a prostate massager, to let him go all tantric on his own ass.

After we showered, we realized we were in time for a late lunch.

— Fin —

Metal would like to thank GratDelay for this story!

male bondage

3 thoughts on “Side Effects – Chapter 8”

  1. Loved it, every word. Characters you can identify with and a story line that is totally erotic and believable.

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