By Marknorth

It had to be at least the fourth time, but it might have been the fifth or sixth.  I had lost count.  It was a Tom “Ropes” McGurk video streaming in a loop from my pay-per-view account.  The minutes remaining on my account were slowly ticking down which meant that they would soon be using my debit card to add more.

The hard part was it was one of my all-time favorites and had been part of my “play list” for years.  Any time I wanted to get off quickly, all I had to do was stream this video.

It would have been one thing if I could actually enjoy watching the muscular top dominate the young blond as he kept the guy bound and gagged, and fucked him mercilessly.  But my cock was caged and the internal spikes in the chastity cage caused intense pain with even the slightest hint of an attempted hard-on.  It would have been another thing if I could have looked away or tuned out the moans and cries of the sub as he was tormented, but I couldn’t.

It was a clever set-up and I had to give them credit for it.  Maybe it wasn’t an original idea, but they had made it overly effective.  A helmet modified with attached headphones and a set of video goggles that made the images seem like they were on the big screen; even though they were only an inch or so from my eyes.  The volume was too loud for me to doze off and all outside noise was blocked.  Sure, I could close my eyes but I was constantly drawn back into the video.  Even though it had been running for hours, my dick still struggled to get erect over and over.  The spikes brought tears to my eyes, but the gag that filled my mouth effectively cut any cries of pain to nothing but a muffled moan.

I had no idea how long they may have stayed and watched me suffer as I couldn’t hear them come or go.  I was so tightly secured in the small cage with heavy cuffs on my wrist and ankles that I could barely move.  I was naked except for the helmet and cock cage and I had already been in the cage for most of the weekend.  I needed to stretch out but I knew that wasn’t going to happen until they released me.

I had been under their control for the better part of a year.  Had I known that any of this would happen I would have never been so stupid as to freely post on the BDSM sites and blogs.  I had profiles up on all the major ones and was in contact with numerous, like-minded guys from all over the country.  I was in a rural area and didn’t get the chance to actually play with other pervs too often.  My fetishes were somewhat tame compared to some others out on the web; but they were extreme enough to cause a lot of problems for me if they ever came to light.

Which is how I got where I am.  I should have been far more careful, but I never thought anyone would ever find out about my little distractions.

They had been lurking in the background for quite a while.  It must have been for months if not more.  I had no idea I was being stalked; and that’s the only word I can use to explain it.  They were clever and took great advantage of my one careless mistake.

It started simply enough.  I came home from work to find a small package in my mailbox.  Not entirely unusual, of course, but I hadn’t been expecting anything.  I had set it on the counter with the rest of the mail and went into my bedroom to change.  I was planning on doing a little self-bondage later, so I threw on some sweats to get comfortable and went back into the kitchen.

I thumbed through the bills and then grabbed the package.  There was no return address.  Odd, but again, not that unusual.  When I finally found out what was in the box, I was a little stunned.  It was one of the most brutal cock-cages that I had ever seen.  I had played a little bit with chastity and had shopped all of the major gear sites, so I knew for sure what I was looking at.  It was expensive and well made.  Dull metal cock tube filled with small forward-pointing spikes to prevent any chance of pulling out, at least not without a great deal of pain once it was locked on.  The cock ring also had small, dull spikes, but nothing like the ones inside the tube.  The lock was integral to the cage and situated in such a way that it would be impossible to cut it off or even pick it.  The cock tube was short.  But then so was my dick.  It seemed to be sized perfectly for me.

But where the hell did it come from and, worse, how did anyone know my address and the fact that I was into this stuff?  I sat down hard at the counter and just looked at the cage for a while.  My mind was spinning.  And I was worried.  If anyone found out about my fetishes I would be ruined.  I’d lose my job and be humiliated right out of town.  My worry was starting to turn to panic.  I grabbed the box to see if there was anything else inside.  There was an envelope tucked into the bottom under the packing material.

My heart started to beat faster as I opened the envelope.  There was only one thing inside – a picture printed on plain 8 ½ X 11 paper.  The picture was of me.  Naked.  Wearing a leather collar, handcuffs, and ankle restraints.  Chains dangling from the locked cuffs.  And a cock-cage.  Face clearly visible.  No one would ever doubt that it was me.  I recognized the picture as one that I had taken and shared with an online buddy, it was also part of one of my profiles.  But he didn’t know who I was or where I lived and I certainly didn’t have that information on any of my profiles.

My mind was racing, did I have any other pics out there that showed my face?  I didn’t think so.  This had been the only that I had ever built up the nerve to share.  Of course, there were others on my hard drive, but this was the only one that I could remember sending or using on-line.

It must have been him.  He had somehow figured out who I was and where I lived.  Although I had no idea how he could have done that – but nothing is impossible.  But why send me the cock cage?  What was going on?

My cell vibrated on the counter letting me know that I had an email.  It was a momentary distraction, so I reached for it and opened the email.  There were actually several, so I started to scan through them.  Only one caught my eye and held it.  No subject and from a yahoo email address that I didn’t recognize.  It stopped my heart.

“We know you received the package.  We also are aware that you know how to use the cage.  Here is what you will do: Shave all your pubic hair and lock the cage on.  You will do that within the next 15 minutes and email a picture confirming that you have followed these instructions to this address.  It will be a full body shot with your face clearly visible, just like the one that was in the package.  If you do not do as instructed that picture, and others, will be posted on numerous sites.  Your Facebook page, your friend’s pages, even your company’s blog – right next to the pictures of the company picnic.  Maybe we’ll even post it on the local newspaper’s ‘share your favorite photos’ webpage.  In any event, it will be circulated widely.  We don’t think you want that to happen, so do as you are told.  15 minutes.”

I stared at the email.  What the fuck was going on?  Were “they” serious?  Who were “they?”  I didn’t know what to do.  I looked at the cage with fear.  If I locked it on there would be no way for me to get it off.  If I didn’t and they followed through on their threat I would be ruined.  It had taken me a long time to find work after the slow-down and I was lucky to have my job.  But there was no way my boss would keep me on after he found out about my fetishes.  It was a family business, he wouldn’t tolerate it, and I needed the job badly.  I was still up to my ass in student loans and I was just scraping by as it was.

Fuck.  I’ll just call the cops.  Blackmail is illegal.  But I couldn’t.  It’s a small town and the cops wouldn’t be able to keep their mouths shut.  I might as well just call the newspaper.  Fuck.

What would happen if I did lock it on?  What else would they want?  Crap, this was a disaster.

My phone vibrated again.  Another email.  From them.

“10 minutes.  We assume that you are looking for a way out.  We aren’t screwing around.  The pic goes out in exactly 10 minutes.  Just so that you know that we are serious, we are attaching another photo.  I’m sure you recognize it.  We have nothing to lose, but you have everything to lose.  Don’t you Jake?”

My name.  It surprised me to see it there in the email.  But of course they knew my name – dumb ass – it was on the address label, after all.

The picture they attached was another one from a profile, this one was of me on my knees collared and cuffed.  Face visible.

The clock was ticking and my mind was racing.  What options did I have?  I couldn’t think straight.  All I could see was myself being driven out of town on a rail, humiliated and jobless.  Fuck.

Before I really knew what I was doing I grabbed the damn cock cage and headed to the bathroom.  I couldn’t think of a way out.  I shaved.  And hesitated.  The clock was ticking.

I stared at the cage.  Once it was on it wasn’t coming off.  Once it was on I would be in pain with any little attempt to get erect.  Once it was on I would be even more under their control.

But I had to put it on.  And I did.  It was amazingly easy to slide into the tube.  My flaccid dick filled the length of the tube.  I wouldn’t be able to get hard at all.  The spikes didn’t hurt, but I knew they would as soon as my dick tried to grow.  I also knew that they would hurt when I took the cage off – or IF I ever took the cage off.

When I snicked the lock shut I knew that I was fucked.  I couldn’t believe that I had locked myself in.  But I didn’t have time to think, I needed to snap a picture and get it to them before my time ran out.  It wasn’t the best picture I ever took.  My hands were shaking so much that it was somewhat blurred, but it was clear enough.  There would be no doubt who it was standing in front of the mirror, naked, with a torture cage locked on his cock.  I sent the email.

And waited.

After what seemed like hours, but was only 5 or 10 minutes a reply email popped up.

“You made it with a minute to spare.  We were starting to wonder.  The pic is OK, but we’ll want a better one before the hour’s up.  Make sure it is in focus this time.  After that don’t send us another email, we’ll be in touch.  Just do as you are told and you’ll be fine.”

I didn’t really know what to do.  But, as I am sure you can understand as you read this, my dick decided that this whole thing was exciting enough to get hard over.  The pain was excruciating and I almost cried out.  My suspicions about how painful it was going to be were proven correct – only I had underestimated just how painful it would be.

As I dropped to my knees in pain, I realized that I had probably just made the worst mistake of my life.

 

To be continued