By surfbot
After spending a glorious week in bondage at my buddy’s place in the city [“One Fine Week“], while driving home I had a better idea than mailing him his chastity keys in a week: I realized I could come back next weekend. So I called him and we agreed on the details. I suggested he get theater tickets for Saturday evening. He complained that while he was in enforced chastity, I could remove my device any time once I got home. So when I got home, I went straight to my workshop.
My chastity is a ball-trapping device like “the curve,” except it is made of solid stainless steel and has a custom-made rod that goes down inside the top of the tube and engages the ring in my P.A. piercing — no pulling out for me. I had riveted it on before the trip, and had worn it for the past ten days. I set up a camera and made a video of me drilling out the rivet and replacing it with a numbered plastic lock (hand drill, be careful! gently!). After ten days it was so tempting to just take it off and relieve my tension with a good wank, but I just slipped in the plastic lock to seal my chastity device on. That was looser than the rivet or a real lock, and it would pinch where I don’t want to be pinched, so I added a plastic cable tie through the lock hole, tightening it up. I then emailed the video to my buddy, with a clear picture of the number on the plastic lock.
Now all I had to do was get through the week, which seemed interminable. I bet it went at a snail’s pace for my buddy as well …
Work was its usual craziness, but Saturday finally arrived. This time I packed a suitcase, got “dressed,” and drove off. I have modified a pair of running shorts with velcro in the crotch, and a T-shirt with velcro at the tops of the sleeves; both can be put on or off while wearing hand- and leg-cuffs. As usual, once I got on the highway I stripped down to just my chastity device — I love driving naked in warm weather. Just before entering the city I stopped briefly to put on my shorts and sandals, and got to my buddy’s place in mid afternoon. I deliberately left his chastity keys locked in my car and went up with my suitcase.
He answered the door naked except for his chastity, and was all over me like an excited little puppy, imploring me to unlock him, telling me how much sex and fun we’d have together, pushing his crotch into mine (clank!), and generally making a nuisance of himself. I knew he had gotten tickets to a show, and I told him firmly that his keys would stay in my car until after the show. With a great show of disappointment he relented.
We shared a shower, but with both of us wearing chastity devices it went nowhere. We then got dressed and went out to dinner. The sexual tension between us was palpable all evening long, even the waiter noticed we were like dogs in heat at an intense simmer. The show was marvelous, but long, which infuriated him even more. When the taxi dropped us off he tried to drag me straight to my car for his keys, but I had other plans, and reminded him who held his chastity key. So we went up. I had him strip and climb into his steel puppy cage. I then had him put his hands up between the bars of the top, and applied handcuffs, outside. “What’s that for?” he asked; “So you won’t jack off when I remove your chastity,” I said, locking the cage. I took his apartment keys and mine, and went down to my car to get his chastity keys. When I got back I unlocked the cage and removed his chastity. Seeing him sitting there, naked, with his hands cuffed above his head, legs spread, and dick at full attention, my heart just melted — he looked so vulnerable, and so luscious. So I quickly finished my preparations, stripping off my clothes and getting a scissors to remove the plastic holding my chastity on. I grabbed a handcuff key and a combination lock from my suitcase, turned out the lights, opened the curtains, climbed into the cage and locked it, giving us enforced togetherness until sunrise. I then unlocked his handcuffs and we started in on the first of many orgasms that night.
After a week of chastity for him, and over two weeks for me, we went at it for a long time, but finally we were both completely spent. We then discovered a side effect of our enforced togetherness: “I have to pee” he said; so did I. Pissing on the floor would make too much mess, and might leak into the apartment below, so we did the only thing possible — I drank his and he drank mine. Neither of us had ever drunk piss “straight from the source” before, and you have to be careful to not let it tickle your throat too much. In some strange way this exchange of urine brought us closer together than any of the many orgasms we had shared over the past year. The cage is small for one person, and with two of us it was positively crowded, but a comfortable and companionable crowd. We managed to get some shut-eye.
Sometime while sleeping I had sought more room by putting my arms outside the cage, between the bars. Somehow he managed to put the handcuffs on without waking me. When I awoke to the daylight, I found I was trapped, and he was dangling the key from his fingers with an evil grin on his face. “But you don’t know the combination to let us out,” I said. “Oh, you’ll tell me,” he replied, grabbing my balls and starting to squeeze. To avoid a painful mauling, I immediately told him, and with a mock-disappointed face he opened the cage and went to the bathroom after re-locking me inside. He then unlocked my handcuffs, and dropped them into the cage with a set of legcuffs. “You’re not getting out until those are properly installed, hands behind your back.” I managed to scuffle out of the cage so restrained, and as soon as I stood up he double-locked them and put a strap between my elbows, keeping my hands in back. I was then allowed to use the bathroom.
When I came out, he had hand- and leg-cuffs on also, and he announced that since he could get loose by himself and I couldn’t, that he was in charge, and we would cook breakfast. Naked. With legcuffs and hands cuffed in back. And we were supposed to keep each other erect throughout, no cumming allowed. There followed a pornographic comedy out of the Marx Brothers — his idea of breakfast was fried sausage, scrambled eggs, toast and orange juice. With hands cuffed in back we had to cooperate to manage the skillet and spatula for the sausage and eggs, which turned out to be harder than we thought. We found we were spending more time sucking each other erect than cooking, so we dropped that requirement. Still it took a while. He spilled the orange juice while pouring awkwardly behind his back; he licked up the counter while I licked his legs off. With much laughing and silliness we finally finished cooking and sat down to eat. He relented and we brought our hands in front to avoid a huge mess of eating. Cleaning up took a while, as he had us put our hands in back again; cooperation was the name of the game.
Then he decided we should put each others’ chastities back on and go running. That’s a challenge with your hands cuffed in back, but we got them on without too much pinching and tugging. He then removed our cuffs, we put on jocks, shorts, and shoes, and went out to run in the hot sunshine. We are reasonably matched, and both decided to work a bit harder than usual. We ended up doing about three miles along the river, plus two more there and back. When we got back we were comfortably exhausted, and by mutual agreement we just scooped up our chastity keys and the combination lock, and went straight into the cage, locking it behind us. There followed a sweaty, smelly, slippery series of undressing, unlocking, and fornicating, all in the very close confines of the puppy cage.
After we came back down, I suggested we put our chastities back on, and then we got out and took a much-needed shower. Lately it seems our shared showers all find us wearing our chastity devices. We lazed around naked for a while, just enjoying each other and our dreamy “runner’s high.” We made lunch, with bawdy jokes about how much easier it was without the handcuffs.
Then it was time for me to go. He suggested we mail our chastity keys to ourselves. I sensed he had some plan, but he just smiled when I asked. We carefully put the keys in envelopes and sealed them up, with stamps. I got packed, we dressed, and we walked together to a mailbox to mail them, and then to my car. We did not want the weekend to end, so I put my suitcase in the trunk and sat down, and he got in the passenger seat beside me. He checked that I had enough gas to get home, and then took charge, “Strip!” he ordered. He knew I liked to drive naked, but only on the highway, not in the city where being observed was much more likely. He also knew I had an attached garage with remote door opener, so my neighbors would not see my nakedness. He was adamant, so I removed my clothes, putting them in the back seat. I was parked on the street, and there were people walking by on the sidewalk, but they did not seem to notice. Then his plan appeared: he reached back and collected all my clothes. He went through the car from top to bottom, removing anything and everything I could possibly use to hide my nakedness: maps, books, my suitcase, he even told me “I’m taking the pouch for the spare-tire tools, they may rattle a bit.” All I ended up with was my locked chastity device, car keys, cellphone, and garage opener. “What if I get a flat?” I asked. “You’ll get embarrassed.” “I’ll get arrested.” “So call me and I’ll come bail you out.”
He then leaned in my window for an extended kiss, reaching down to fondle my chastity a bit, while his clanked on the door. “Drive Safely!” he said as he carried all my stuff back to his apartment.
That was a rather nervous trip. I always figured that if I got in an accident, my nudity would be the least of my worries, and for anything else I could just put on my shorts. Not this time. People passing by were unlikely to notice, but stoplights were a real concern, as I was visibly naked when seen from the right. I started off annoyed and worried, furious that he would put me in this predicament. But as the miles went by I mellowed out, relaxed, and enjoyed the trip. It is fun to drive naked, and the locked chastity just heightened the feeling. I had lots of time to contemplate our possible future together, and got home without incident, after One Fine Weekend.
The End
Metal would like to thank surfbot for this story.