By Aquala Guy

Part One

This work is entirely a piece of fiction, and written from the author’s fantasy.  Names used are strictly an indication of the author’s fantasy men, and are not in any way a reflection or indication of the proclivities of any person besides the author. No inference should be made about anyone, except that the author is waiting for the day when he really does get a piss hood locked on his head.

For years I have wanted to find out what it would be like to have a piss hood locked on my head with no way of removing it, and feeling the discomfort of the piss gag build the longer I wear the hood. I’ve known that wearing the hood would automatically mean that I’d be drinking piss, and I’m cool with that … I mean, what sense does it make to lock a piss hood on if it’s not going to get used, right?  Otherwise you may as well just have a plain old boring gag in your mouth.  There’s no fun in that.

For the past couple years, I have been going to some piss oriented websites and posting, regularly, my “ad”.  It reads:

“I will do whatever it takes to find out what it’s like to have a full coverage piss hood locked on my head.  You, as the keyholder, will be the ONLY person to determine how long I wear the hood.  Whatever you want me to do, let me know.  As long as it ends up with me getting a piss hood locked on my head with no way out of it, I’m game.”

After almost three years of posting this same ad to various piss websites, I finally got a reply.  The guy’s email address simply indicated that he might be some kind of celebrity, but there was no way to confirm this.  He talked like he knew his way around Hollywood, though, so it was a good game.  A few informal email exchanges passed, then I got this from him:

“So, you really want to wear a piss hood with no way out?  Here’s what you’re going to do.  You’re going to give me your mailing address so that I can send you a very special package.  When you get this package, you will be required to put on everything that is inside.  This will be critical, because it will show me how sincere you are about becoming my piss slave.”

Needless to say, I sent him my mailing address and got the next email from him:

“OK, piss slave, your package is on its way.  When you get it, you’ll have to decide if you want to be my piss slave, or if you’re just all talk.  Your instructions will be inside the package.  Follow them exactly if you are sincere about being my piss slave. “

The package arrived the next day via FedEx.  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hide from him the fact that I’d received it, because I had to sign for it.  When I opened the package, there was an envelope addressed to “piss slave” and a bulky something wrapped in plain brown paper.  I opened the envelope, and was surprised to see a photograph of S c o t t  C a a n  in a wetsuit, along with a list of instructions.

“Hello, piss slave.  Yes, this really is me, and yes, I will really make you my piss slave if you want it.  Right now, you will prove me that you deserve to be my piss slave.  You will strip, then you will put on the enclosed jock.  This jock is specifically designed so that once you have it on correctly, it is impossible for you to take it off again.  You will have to come to me if you want to get out of it.  When you do come to me, you will be required to submit to a full coverage piss hood before the jock will be removed.  The piss hood will lock on, and once locked, there will be no way out of it for you.  There also will be no mercy shown to you, so if you discover that you don’t like drinking piss, it will be too late for you and we will not care.  Once you have the jock on, you are to email me photographic proof that you are wearing it.  I will acknowledge your picture with further instructions.”

I unwrapped the package to discover a steel Carrera chastity jock and a lock, swung to the open position, with no key. I could see what he meant by no way out, because this jock was designed to completely encase my junk with no access from any direction.

I stripped and worked my junk into the Carrera jock, taking time to make sure nothing was pinching.  My dick was throbbing, so I had to wait to calm down in order to close the jock up.  I figured that it would defeat the reason Scott had for sending me a chastity jock if I whacked myself off, so I waited until I was soft.

Once my dick cooperated, I started to close the pouch over myself.  I adjusted a bit to make sure no pinching would occur.  As the jock closed, I could feel the tightness gripping my junk.  There was absolutely no room inside at all for me to get hard. Once the pouch was totally closed, there was pressure on my balls that I couldn’t relieve at all.  I took the lock and slipped it in place to hold the pouch closed.  I went through the package to see if there was a key to the lock “just in case” but there wasn’t.  This was serious.  I knew that if I locked the jock, I would not be getting out of it.  Then I saw a copy of my ad, and after reading it again, I knew that I had no choice.  I snapped the lock shut, trapping my junk inside, with absolutely no possibility of getting hard, getting off, or getting out.  After taking a couple pictures with time stamps to prove that I was locked up, I emailed Scott the photos.

“Hello, piss slave.  So you’ve locked your junk up.  Excellent.  I own you now, and there is no possible way for you to get out of that jock.  You will come to me sooner or later in order to get out of it.  Every one of my piss slaves has come to me, each wearing his chastity jock, just like you.  So here’s what’s going to happen.

“You are prohibited from contacting me in any way.  You must go for 30 consecutive days without contacting me.  If you make an attempt to contact me, any time you have put in wearing that jock will be erased, and you will have to start over … only you will have 30 more days added to your time.  Each attempt will have the same consequences, so you could go thirty days, or have to start over and go 60, or 90 or … you get the idea.

“Once all your time has expired, I will contact you.  You can depend on this because I’m looking forward to converting you to my urinal.  When I contact you, I will give you directions on how to get to me.  You can arrive any time you want after you get the directions.

“You can reply to this message to let me know you’ve received it, and you can ask any questions you have.  This is a one time opportunity for you.  Once I respond to your questions, you will be cut off.  Your 30 days will start at midnight, my time here on the West Coast. Email me that you have received this notice, and if you have any questions, now is the only opportunity you have to ask them.”

I knew I was in trouble, because I like to jack off every day.  But I also knew that this was a requirement, and after so many years of, literally, begging to be made a piss slave like this, I figured I had to pay this price.  I had read about guys who had worn chastity devices for a lot longer than 30 days, so I thought I could do it.  I replied to Scott, and asked him what his intentions were for me as his piss slave.  How long did he plan on keeping me?  How long would I have to drink piss? How often?

“As my piss slave, you don’t need to know how long you’ll serve.  You’ll wear the piss hood for the purpose of being used, not for pleasure.  You will be used by me and any of my buddies who desire to use you whenever we need you.  I will tell you how long I plan on keeping you only after you’re sealed up and cannot try to talk me out of it … not that I would let you talk me out of it anyway.  As for how long you’ll drink piss, the answer to that one is simple.  You’ll drink piss for as long as you wear the piss hood.

“My buddies and I will not care if you change your mind, if you cannot handle drinking piss, or if you don’t like it.  None of that is important to us.  The only thing that will be important to us will be that you are wearing a piss hood, which is designed to force you to drink piss whenever it gets used.

“It is already too late for you to change your mind, since you are locked in that chastity jock.  The only way you have of getting out of that jock is to come to me.  When you come to me, you WILL have the piss hood locked on your head, with no exceptions and absolutely no mercy.

“This is the end of our communications.  You will not hear from me again until you have earned your release from the steel jock by wearing it without contacting me.  Your time starts at midnight. I will contact you after your time has expired, to give you further details.”

There was just a certain tone about that email that said he was not BS’ing me about not contacting him.  Suddenly, thirty days in the steel jock looked like a very long time.

Each day was torment, and I had to discipline myself to not try and write him.  By the time my 30 days had run out, I was used to the fact that I couldn’t get my dick hard … but I was hornier than hell, and I seriously needed to get my rocks off.

One day passed, then two, then a week, before I got an email from him.

“Hello, piss slave.  Here’s my address.  You may show up at this address whenever you are ready to be released from that jock.  I expect you to show up wearing nothing except your steel jock.  When the door is answered, you will shout, loud enough to be heard in the back of the room, this exact sentence. ‘I am your new piss slave and I am here for you to use me.’  When you shout that exact sentence, you will be admitted into the residence, and you will be taken to the prep room, where you will be gagged with your piss gag and your piss hood will be locked on your head.  After that, you will be told what to expect from there.

“You are still prohibited from contacting me.  The next contact you have with me will be in person, when you show up to get out of the steel jock.  Take as long as you want to get here, just remember that the longer it takes for you to get here, the longer your junk stays locked in that jock.”

Part Two

I Googlemapped directions to Scott’s place, based on his address, and the time frame indicated a two day trip.  I decided I had to go now, since I was screaming for release from the chastity jock, horny as hell.  So I got into my car and I drove cross country to Hollywood, and Scott’s place.

I was not prepared for what met me when I got there.  Scott’s address was a warehouse in the middle of nowhere … if you can be “nowhere” down in the warehouse district.  I looked for parking, and finally found it in back.  The parking lot was all stone, no pavement anywhere.  And there was more stone between the edge of the parking lot and the door entering the warehouse.  I remembered that he had told me to show up wearing only my chastity jock, so I stripped in the car.

Stepping barefoot onto those stones was very tough.  The stones were sharp, and I walked very gingerly to the door.  I figured that they used the stones to get the message across that you weren’t going to run away from them.  It took me over 5 minutes to walk the 50 meters to the door from my car.  I knew I didn’t want to cross those 50 meters again barefooted.  I stood in front of the door wearing only my steel chastity jock, and a shiver ran down my spine.  I knew that I was about to become a piss slave, and I was having second thoughts.  I remembered his email that said it was too late for me to change my mind once I put the jock on, so I worked up my nerve and approached the door to knock.

It sounded like there was a party going on inside when I knocked.  I stood there waiting for someone to answer.  I knocked again, more loudly.  After another couple minutes, I noticed a yellow sign that said “piss slaves must ring bell for admission.”  I rang the doorbell, and almost immediately the sound of the party got quieter.

I couldn’t believe it when S c o t t  C a a n really opened the door.  There he stood in front of me, wearing a wetsuit.  His manhood was on very prominent display in the body hugging neoprene, and I felt my dick respond immediately, much to my discomfort and regret.

Scott looked at me standing there wearing only my steel chastity jock.  “Can I do something for you?” he asked.

“I am your new piss slave and I am here for you to use me,” I shouted, and I stood there waiting for him to say something to me.  Instead he turned into the room and called out

“Hey guys, lower the noise.  I can’t hear this dude.”  The place got quiet, and he looked at me again.  “What was that you shouted?  I’m assuming that since you shouted you wanted everyone to hear you, so shout it out again, that way everyone will hear you.”

Again I shouted “‘I am your new piss slave and I am here for you to use me.”

Scott stepped aside and motioned me in.  I walked in to see immediately at least thirty hot guys, all wearing tight wetsuits. There was no way to keep my eyes off their crotches, as each guy’s maleness was on prominent display.  Scott closed the door behind me, and one of the other guys came up to me. He grabbed my left arm as Scott took me by my right. I was moved through the room to a flight of stairs, and without any concern whether I could keep up with them or not, I was taken down.

As we descended into the basement, it occurred to me that this was deeper than a standard basement.  It kinda made sense to me since we were in a warehouse. As we got closer to the bottom, I was noticing the unmistakable smell of stale piss. I was also realizing that if I tried to scream down here, nobody upstairs would be able to hear me.

At the foot of the stairs we turned a corner, and I was hustled down a corridor.  There were several rooms along this corridor, some with windows.  At one window I got a glimpse of a guy locked in a cage with his head outside the cage.  It almost looked like he had a funnel leading to his mouth, but I didn’t get to see long enough to confirm that.

The further down the corridor we went, the stronger the stale piss smell became. My escorts each placed my hands over their crotches, and I could feel both of their cocks throbbing in their wet suits.

“Scott, I have wanted to suck on your cock since I saw you in Varsity Blues with J a m e s  V a n d e r  B e e k.”

The other guy told me to shut up, and to not worry since Mr. V a n d e r B e e k would be putting in an appearance shortly, he was just running late.  I started to feel nauseated with the stench of stale piss building up, and I said something.

“Shut the fuck up, piss slave, you won’t be told again!” Scott commanded me. “There is nothing I like better than the smell of old piss, it makes my cock hard every time.”

We entered one of the rooms, and I was stunned by what I saw in the room.  A window looking out into the corridor showed me that all the guys had followed us.  In the center of the room was a steel cage, made out of rebar, spaced 6 inches apart.  The top of the cage was a set of stocks, with just an opening for my neck.  The back of the cage was open, and the cage was waiting for me to get in.  I could see that if I got in that cage, there was no way out for me.

Sitting on top of the cage was an Aquala dry suit and a full coverage piss hood.  I recognized the piss hood immediately.  The funnel was attached to a 2 foot clear tube that ran directly to the piss gag. It was all sealed up as a part of the piss hood, not one of those snap on gags. It also had a locking collar on it. This hood was designed for only one purpose; whoever wore it would be nothing more than a urinal.

“Here’s what is going to happen now, piss slave.” Scott said.  “You are going to put that piss hood on.  You will put your piss gag in your mouth where it belongs, and you will seal your piss hood tight, making sure that you have no way to push your piss gag out of your mouth.  If you seal the piss hood properly, you will discover that it is impossible for you to block off the piss gag.  I strongly suggest you seal the piss hood properly, because if we have to adjust it for you, the time factor you spend in that cage will be exponentially multiplied.

“Once you have your piss hood sealed, we will check it.  If you have sealed it properly, we will tell you to secure your collar.  If not, we will seal it for you and secure your collar.  The collar will be locked.  Like your chastity jock, the key to your lock is not in this building, so you’re locking the collar knowing that you have no way to remove the piss hood. After you lock your piss hood, you will put on the Aquala suit.

“Get a good look at that Aquala suit, because it has been altered so that it can be locked.  You will be 100% sealed in rubber, from head to toe once the suit is closed up.  You will be locked in the Aquala suit.  Again the key to unlock it is not in this building.  You will crawl into your piss cage where you belong, and we will secure you in place.  The cage will be locked once you’re in it. Once it’s locked, we will start pissing in your gag.  You will drink piss for as long as you stay in that cage.”

He let me take in the whole room, then he asked me if I understood what I was getting into.  “Yes, sir” I replied.  “Good, because there is no way you’re leaving here.  Do you have any final questions?”

“Yes, Sir.  When does the chastity jock get taken off me?”

The other escort laughed with a snort and said “after you get out of the cage.”

The look that must have crossed my face showed my sudden understanding of my position, and both men started laughing.  “I’ll grant you one last request before we convert you to a urinal.  You said something about wanting to suck my cock?  Prove to me you deserve to suck my cock.”

The other escort started to shuck out of his wetsuit.  “Suck him off.  If he’s satisfied with your performance, I’ll let you suck me off before you have to put your piss gag in place.”

I was driven to my knees and found myself facing my escort’s raging prick.  He pulled my head in and started to push his throbber into my mouth.  I started sucking on him as he kept pushing.  Deeper and deeper he pushed, until I started gagging on him. For more than a half hour I choked on his manhood, fighting to get what breath I could between his thrusts.  As he approached his magical moment he gave one final shove.  I tasted his cum filling my mouth as I choked up on his cock.  “Swallow, piss boy!” he commanded me. “Don’t you dare waste anything that comes from any man’s cock.”

I swallowed his load, and finished sucking the last remnants of my spit from his cock as he pulled out.  He looked at Scott and nodded.

Scott shucked out of his wetsuit, and pulled my head in to his crotch.  His throbbing cock looked like it was already prepped to explode.  Scott pushed into my mouth, and I started sucking on him.  He gave me about 30 seconds to catch my breath before he started to probe my tonsils with his rod. I started choking on him like I’d been on the other escort, and it was all I could do to keep from puking.

Another half-hour passed with me gagging on Scott’s fuckstick.  Finally as he blew off, he held my head tight into his crotch so that I couldn’t breathe at all.  I felt his cum explode against the back of my throat as my gag reflex forced me to swallow his load.

When he was done, he slowly pulled out of my mouth. He pulled his wet suit up to his waist.  He took the piss hood off the top of the cage and held it out to me.

“Ok, piss slave, it’s time.  Put your piss gag in your mouth where it belongs, and seal your piss hood up nice and tight, knowing that you’re not going to get this piss gag out of your mouth.”

I looked around, and there was no hope for me.  If I tried to leave this room, the sheer number of men standing there would make it impossible for me to get out.  I knew I was there to stay, and I knew I no longer had any hope of escaping my fate.  I took the piss hood from Scott’s hand.

Part Three

I got a good look at the funnel and clear tube leading to my piss gag.  The workmanship was expert, there was no obvious seam that would offer me any hope of piss leaking out.  I knew that every drop that went into the funnel would find its way down my gullet.

I turned the piss hood around and got my first view of the business side of my prison.  The piss gag itself was about 1.5 inches in diameter and would extend about 2 inches into my mouth.  It was hard rubber.  There was no give to it, so once it was in my mouth, I would not be able to close my mouth.  I could see that there was not any possibility that I’d be able to block the opening with my tongue.  The dimensions would not only force me to be available, but would also be quite uncomfortable.

“What are you waiting for piss slave?  There are men here who need your service. You’re keeping them waiting, and that is not going to do you any good.” I looked at Scott and saw his grin.  He knew he had me, and he knew I was having second thoughts.  “I told you there’d be no mercy.  I wasn’t joking.  Put that piss gag where it belongs, and get ready to become the urinal you know you are.”

One final look at the wet suited men starting to fill the room told me that my fate was sealed.  I opened my mouth and slid my piss gag in.  Pulling my piss hood over my head, I was rendered almost totally blind by the pinprick eyeholes that allowed me to see no farther in front of me than the piss hose running from my funnel to my gag. I’d be able to see when someone stepped up to me, but that would be all.

I pulled the piss hood to the back of my head and felt the front of the hood conform to my face.  I started to zip it closed, but the zipper would only move so far down the back of my head.  After fighting with it for about a minute, Scott laughed and told me “work the laces over the zipper, it will go faster and easier for you.”

I worked the laces through the first three sets of eyelets, pulling as tightly as I could.  I felt the hood yield to the force of the laces, but when I went to close the zipper some more, the laces loosened and the zipper wouldn’t close.

A new voice chimed in “tie the laces off after each set, piss boy.  You need to do that to seal it right.”  So I pulled the laces tight again and tied them off.  I went to the zipper and it slid closed a bit further.  I worked the laces through the next two sets and tied them again.  I continued this back and forth action, sealing myself into my piss hood.  I could feel the hood creating the watertight seal around my mouth as I sealed it closed, and I realized that I would drink every drop from now on.  As I finally got the zipper closed. I knew there was no way out of this piss hood.  I finished the last two sets of eyelets with the laces and tied them off.  There was barely enough lacing left for me to tie the final knot, and there was no way I could put a release bow in the lacing.

I felt hands checking the tightness of my piss hood, concentrating at my mouth to make sure my piss gag was properly sealed.  The wideness of the piss gag was getting uncomfortable quickly, and I could feel my tongue reacting trying to push out this invader.  It was impossible.  My piss gag was in my mouth to stay, and there was no possibility of me asking for mercy.

I heard Scott tell me to secure my collar around my neck.  I wrapped the collar around, and felt it cover up the ends of the laces as well as the bottom three sets of eyelets, meaning that my last two knots were inside the collar, as well as the zipper pull. I fastened the collar, and Scott checked to make sure he couldn’t get a finger in between my collar and my lacing.  I felt someone put a lock in my hand, and Scott told me to lock my collar.  “Once you lock that collar, piss slave, you will not get out of that piss hood.  Lock it on knowing that.  You have no hope, and no way out.”

I knew he was right, and I knew there was no use in trying to get out.  I knew that if I tried to undo the collar without locking it that I’d be overwhelmed and forcibly locked into the piss hood.  I knew my piss gag was in my mouth to stay.  How long was still an unknown to me, but I knew that it didn’t matter, since I couldn’t do anything about it.  I put the lock into my collar’s buckle and snapped it shut, sealing myself into the piss hood for good.  The reality of it hit me just then as I knew the piss gag was now a part of me as much as my now worthless cock still trapped in my steel chastity jock.

The two men stood me up, and I felt someone hand me my Aquala suit.  “Your handle is Aquala Guy, so that tells me you’re familiar with Aquala suits.  This one has the boots, gloves and hood all glued on, so that you’re wearing one continuous piece of rubber from head to toe.  Get into that suit, now, piss slave.”

I put my feet into the Aquala suit, and felt the boots grab hold.  I slid the suit up.  As I pulled it up over my chastity jock, the realization struck me that nobody would be able to unlock my jock while I’m suited up. Too late to do anything about that now, since I’d been told the key to the jock was not in this building anyway.

I put my arms into the sleeves of the Aquala suit, feeling the rubber gloves wrap around each finger.  Tactile sensation was all but gone as the rubber took control of me.  My gag reflex was working overtime, as each breath caused my throat muscles to contract.  I was swallowing more frequently than I usually did, and I realized the effectiveness of the design.  The piss hood was forcing me to swallow, so once they started using me, I wouldn’t be able to spit their piss out.

I pulled the hood of the Aquala suit over my head and realized that the lock on my collar was now inside my Aquala suit. There was now no way to unlock my piss hood as long as I wore the Aquala suit.  I felt Scott and the other escort zip my Aquala suit closed, and put my zipper pull over a locking post.  The lock was placed in and snapped shut, and I knew I was sealed in with no way out.  My body temperature was making the suit warm to wear, and I was starting to sweat. My jaw ached from the piss gag. I tried to reach up to rub my jaw but I felt them grab me and pull my arms behind my back.

“Too late, piss slave,” Scott said.  “You’re sealed in and there is no hope for you to get out.” I felt a pair of handcuffs snap closed around my wrists, and I was led to the back of my piss cage.  I was pushed into the cage and forced to my knees.  I felt hands at the back of my head pulling me forward into the stocks.  Then I felt the stocks close around my neck.  A couple of motions that I could sense told me that the stocks were being locked from the inside.  I heard and sensed the gate on the back of the piss cage close, and I heard one final lock snap shut.  I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I was now locked in the piss cage to stay.  I knew I wasn’t getting out.

I saw some motion in front of my face.  I couldn’t make out anything more than a set of legs in a black wetsuit, but somehow I knew S c o t t  C a a n was standing in front of me.  His voice confirmed my suspicions. “You are now a urinal, piss slave.  You have no hope of ever being anything but a urinal for as long as you stay in that cage.  Like the lock holding your piss hood and your chastity jock closed, the keys to your piss cage are not in this building.”  I saw the black wetsuit slide down leaving white legs in front of my face. “This is what you wanted, piss slave.  Enjoy yourself.  Or else learn to enjoy yourself, because I was not joking when I told you there would be no mercy.”

I saw the yellow piss flowing through my tube seconds before I tasted the pungent fluid filling my mouth.  I knew S c o t t  C a a n  was pissing in my piss gag, and I couldn’t stop him.  My gag reflex forced me to swallow, in spite of the fact that I did not enjoy the taste of Scott’s full strength nectar. I saw him step away from me when he finished emptying his bladder in my funnel.  I kept swallowing since I had no choice, and watched the piss level slide down the tube in front of my face.

Another set of black wet suited legs stood in front of me. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” I heard a voice say.  I thought I recognized it.  Then I heard Scott say “You should have been here before he put his piss hood on.  We’d have made him suck your cock for you.  Piss slave, let me formally introduce you to J a m e s  V a n d e r  B e e k.”  I saw the wet suit slide down James’ legs, and heard his piss hit the funnel.  I saw the yellow river flow down the tube to my waiting mouth, and tasted his salty urine fill my mouth. As I swallowed his piss, I started fighting with my handcuffs, fighting for an escape that I would never achieve.

I saw James step away from me.  As his piss flowed down my tube, he was replaced by another set of wet suited legs. I heard James say to Scott “I love it when we get a new piss slave.  I love watching them surrender to the realization that they are going to spend the rest of their life as a urinal.  This one will put up a good fight, but he’s not going to be any different than any other urinal.”

“Yeah, this one is going to be fun” Scott said.  “I figure we keep him here one day for each day he wore his chastity jock waiting to be converted.  In a month or so we’ll be able to sell him off and buy enough gear for two more urinal conversions.”

James laughed and said “I never thought this idea would take off when you first pitched it to me, but I gotta tell you.  I am really enjoying watching these guys come here and voluntarily submit themselves to becoming urinals.”

Their voices faded as the room filled with the other wet suited men. The final comment I heard was J a m e s  V a n d e r B e e k saying “It’s a good thing we record these conversions.  We can prove to future buyers that these urinals are in their cages because they wanted to be there.”

As another wet suit slid down a set of legs, I started to scream … just long enough until his piss filled my mouth and cut me off.  I was now drinking piss from an anonymous guy, and the realization struck me that I would never again know who was pissing in me … and just like any other urinal, I now existed only to be used.  As my struggling exhausted me, and men continued using me, I felt myself surrender  to the grip of my piss cage, the jaw numbing force of my piss gag, and the first release of recycled piss starting to fill my Aquala suit that was now my home.

THE END