By Matt

Hey Metal,

I look over to your site anytime I want to get off. I’m done looking through several different pornographic sites trying to find just what will do it for me, it’s all in one place on your blog.

Anyway, you recently wrote that you wanted your readers’ chastity stories, so here goes:

A few years back, I met this super hot man on a gay cruise.

He’s about 6’4″, built like a brick shit house, and a cock you could plug a tailpipe with. Naturally, I got along with him just fine. Little did I know his plans for me.

This was a gay cruise, not necessarily a kinky cruise, so we were both pleasantly surprised to find each other’s kinky side. I had brought restraints, which he used to keep me safely secure on the bed while he pounded me again and again and again. He told me he hadn’t brought any equipment of his own, but to come with him once we docked.

The port we docked at was Miami, and I went with him to a toy store (don’t remember the name). There, he bought a CB2000. He didn’t ask me, there was no negotiation, he brought me behind the alley and told me to lock it on myself. This took quite a while, considering how hard I was this whole time! I actually had to ask him to leave because just seeing him had always, and especially now, brought my cock to attention.

He used the plastic lock because we both had to fly home. He lived about seven hours’ drive from me, and gave me his phone number and email. Basically, as I learned when I got home, was I had to send him a picture each day with some sort of date-specific artefact (I used newspapers), and beg him to let me come over. In the end, it took two weeks.

The first night was the worst. Not only was my mind still full of him and all the sexy times we had shared, not only was my ass still good and sore (nothing turns me on more than a tinge of pain when I clench my ass), but sleeping? Forget it! I think I got about two hours’ sleep that first night. Every hardon would push and push painfully.

The first day back at work I learned I had to sit in my office chair a little differently. As the first week, then the second week, wore on, my dick and balls were getting nothing but sorer and sorer.

Of course, he’d send me hot pictures, or call me and tell me in that deep sexy voice of his that I was his, that I would have to wait to cum. Sometimes he would even make me talk to him to get him to cum on the phone while my dick strained painfully in its cage. It was AWFUL, but so wonderful at the same time!

Finally he said I could drive up to his place. I had ensured my weekends would be free in case he’d give me such an offer, and he finally did. I don’t recall exactly how fast I drove, but I know I was well over the speed limit!

I arrived to find him shirtless, in just a pair of tight Levi’s that showed me everything. He told me to kneel, which I dutifully did, and he slipped a hood over my head. He led me to a table, on which I was told to lay, and he took off my clothes. You better believe my cock was straining hard at this point! I felt restraints go around my wrists and ankles, as he tied me down inescapably to the table. A moment passed, then I heard a snip, and felt a tremendous release of pressure from my cock!

“Hmmmm…” he said.

“What?” I asked, though it probably sounded more like “mmph.”

He then undid my restraints and removed the hood. I looked down and saw what the cage had done to my cock: it was bruised, with the skin rubbed away in some places to form open sores.

“Sorry, but I’m not interested in getting herpes.”

“No! I don’t have herpes! It was the cock cage! It was rubbing against–”

“I think you better go.”

And so I drove the seven hours back, and had a very painful and sad masturbation session at home.