That night and the next day, the devil didn’t play with me much. That holiday he added some clamps to my tits, but that was the only additional gear he put on me. Amazing as I found it to be, I was starting to get adjusted to that extreme position he kept me in while in that cage. I erupted about a half dozen more times before I was awakened Tuesday morning to get cleaned up and go to work.
The collar he kept at the base of my neck was closed with a special kind of key. There was no way I would be able to get that off. True to his word, he removed the top collar so I could get my shirt and tie on. My cuffs were also removed, as well as the gag. It was the first time I’d had the gag out since that Friday night when we met. I was also finally able to shit, though by then it had solidified and I couldn’t.
He got breakfast ready while I got cleaned up and dressed. I noticed the shirts he’d gotten me were tighter and heavier, with a higher collar than I usually wore, one with two buttons. With those on, I couldn’t see any sign of what lay underneath. But I could sure feel things.
He locked my cock in chastity. “Whenever you leave your house, your cock will always be locked up.”
On the way to work, and at work, as well as while eating breakfast and getting dressed, I couldn’t bend over. It took some getting used to. But when I walked, my back was straight. I hadn’t realized that I’d been bending over as much as I had until I couldn’t any more. I was a little concerned about my appearance at work, what the reactions would be from my fellow workers.
At first I got compliments on my improved appearance with my new clothes. But Skip, the guy in the next booth, said “you’re looking a little peaked this morning. Something wrong?”
“I had a stressful weekend. I notice you’re also looking a little peaked. Did you have a problem?”
“My roommate suddenly left, taking all his things. He never gave any indication that he wanted to leave. I’ve been wondering why.”
I had been noticing for the first time which ones walked straight and didn’t bend over, since that was now something I was cognizant of. Skip was one who always walked straight and never bent over. He also had aged considerably in appearance since I’d been working with him. I figured he must have been living a very stressful life away from work.
The devil had driven me to work in the morning, keeping me cuffed and gagged while in the back of the van. He parked a block away and let me out to go into work. I was wearing gloves to hide the marks. I had noticed before that Skip always wore gloves, and noticed that he wasn’t doing it today. I wondered whether his roommate had taken those as well.
At quitting time, my ride hadn’t shown up yet. He told me that he would be about 15 minutes late picking me up to allow the others to leave. Skip had been sitting there looking straight ahead for most of the day, paying no attention to his work. I didn’t realize that he had such an intense relationship with his roommate. His roommate leaving had obviously hit Skip hard.
At quarter after quitting time, Skip had gotten up and was talking to me. I had just told Skip, “how ironic. You lose a roommate and I gain one.” That’s when I looked up and said, “speak of the devil.” My thoughts of my clever statement were quickly quelled when I looked at Skip.
Skip looked over at him, and all the color drained from his face. Then it came back in a rush. “Why did you suddenly pack up and leave? I thought we were getting along great. Your leaving has left a big void in my life.”
“I decided to move on. I come and go as I wish.”
“But you left my cock locked up.”
“I wanted to leave you something to think of me.”
“I’ve got plenty of thoughts of you. I’ll never forget you as long as I live. But without you there, I need to start looking forward.”
“After me, you’ll never be satisfied with another. Cock locked up or not, you’ll never be able to cum again. Just think of the memories and be happy with those.”
Skip’s shoulders slumped down as he left. That started me wondering how long the devil would be staying with me. After the last two nights I could understand why Skip would be upset, assuming the devil was able to gratify Skip as much as he did me, which their conversation indicated was the case. I had things to think about as I was going back home, tightly secured in the back of my van.
On getting back home, I quickly stripped off my clothes for the devil to secure me in that cage as he’d done the previous night. I didn’t have any dinner, but I didn’t care. I was more interested in satisfying my cock than in satisfying my stomach. And I got what I wanted. Oh boy, did I get what I wanted. My cock was more than happy, even while put back into that spiked cock sheath. The pain was excruciating, getting any air into my lungs was a challenge, but the enjoyment was unbelievable. While like that, I didn’t care to ever go back to work or do anything else. The devil sure knew how to turn me on.
The next morning, restrained in the back of the van as the previous day for the ride to work, I was soon back doing my 8 hours plus lunch hour. I noticed that Skip didn’t show up for work. I figured he was still trying to deal with the loss of the devil. I realized that he would have a difficult time following a straight path after the pleasure the devil had given him. But I now had that pleasure. It was difficult for me to concentrate on work, thinking about that.
The rest of the week went like that. When the devil picked me up from work on Friday night, he said, “the spiked punishment collar has arrived. If you thought you were given pleasure and pain before, wait until you experience this.”
When I got home and quickly got my clothes off, the devil first cuffed my hands behind my back and gagged me. He also shackled my ankles. Then he brought out the spiked punishment collar and held it up for me to look at. I could see that there were spikes everywhere, outside the collar, on top of the collar, underneath the collar, and most important, lining the inside of the collar. The devil said, “this was something that was used during the Spanish inquisition, and is still being used today in some parts of the world. I got it to be the same size as the collar you now have on.” As I realized that this was a tight fit around my neck, pushing in, my cock started getting erect into that spiked cock sheath, and I started getting intense pain again from it.
When the devil saw this, his smile got bigger and he said, “I see that you’re anticipating what it will feel like having this on. Whatever your thoughts are, I can assure you that it will be much more intense than you can possibly imagine.”
The collar came already opened. He unlocked, opened and removed the collar I had on (bottom part only) after also detaching the connecting chain to the chain that went around under my rib cage. When he started to put the collar around my neck, he quickly closed and ratcheted it tightly shut. The spikes immediately cut into my neck and started giving me pain. While I was screaming into my gag, he picked up the chain that was connected to the one under my rib cage and locked it to a ring at the back of this new collar.
After I’d started calming down he said, “there is no key to this collar. Once on, it stays on and cannot be removed. Skip probably never told you, but he has one on as well, and he will never be able to remove it. He also has one of these chain harnesses, and has that spiked collar locked to that like you have yours done. You’ve probably noticed that he walks erect, just as you now do?” After I nodded my head up and down as best I could he said, “That’s why.”
He started setting me up to be backed into the cage. Soon I was set up as I’d been during the week. But the addition of that spiked punishment collar intensified the experience immeasurably. I’d never been in such pain and pleasure before in my life. This elevated things to a new high level. My cock was constantly erupting.
The next day, clamps were back on my tits. These were more painful than the ones the devil had put on me the previous weekend. But frankly, I hardly noticed the pain from my tits. There was such pain coming from other areas, my neck, my cock and my shoulders to name a few, that what pain came from my tits was minor. I still kept erupting on Saturday, and still again on Sunday. I don’t know how many times I erupted. The latter ones hardly produced any cum, but in my frenzied state, it didn’t seem to matter.
When I got dressed the following Monday morning, I was having a problem putting the shirt on over that spiked punishment collar. The external spikes would stick to the shirt as I would try to put it around my neck. The devil could see the difficulty I was having and stepped in to help. I soon realized that the collar was going to go higher up on my neck than I was used to. And when the devil tied my tie, he tied it as tight as he could get it. He was the one who did the laundry, and I noticed he heavily starched the shirt. He also heavily starched my cotton underwear. At breakfast I asked him, “why did you starch everything so heavily, including my underwear?”
“I did that so it would excite you more. Watch and see the effect today at work.”
I didn’t see how that would work, but I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and see. By noontime I realized that he was right. I was more excited from my clothes than I’d ever been at work. Unfortunately, with my cock locked up, it didn’t do me any good.
Skip again didn’t show up for work. Our boss was inquiring about him, since he hadn’t heard from him. He asked me if I knew of anything that would cause Skip to not come in, and I lied and said I didn’t. I figured there was no need to get our personal lives revealed to our boss, though I was tempted to say that it was because the devil had left him.
That thought started getting me thinking about what would happen if one of my other workmates happened to meet the devil picking me up, and wanted to be introduced. I didn’t know what his real name was. I figured I couldn’t exactly introduce him as the devil. When he met me at work and we started walking the block to my van, I asked him that question. He just smiled and said, “introduce me as the devil.” I hoped that situation wouldn’t come up.
That spiked punishment collar had been bothering me at work all day. It was the first day in which I wore it. I didn’t get much work done. I wondered if I would ever get used to it. My cock was desperate to get out of its prison with that thing on. I had had a chance to research it on the internet and found that the devil was right, that it was in common use during the Spanish inquisition and was still in use in some parts of the world today as a form of torture to get people to say secrets, or to punish them. It certainly was unbelievably punishing, but with the way the devil set it up for me at home, it was also extremely stimulating. I was erupting again when set up in that cage. I was having a life of constant stimulation, perhaps over-stimulation. I’d felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Or perhaps more appropriately, died and gone to hell.
Skip never showed up for work the rest of the week. I was starting to get concerned about him. As his best friend at work, on Friday our boss told me to go to his address and see what was wrong. I didn’t have my car to drive, so I took public transit. When I got there, I didn’t get an answer at the door right away. But finally Skip answered the door. He was drunk. He let me into his place. It was a mess. He kept talking about how his life was now ruined since the devil left. I finally said, “why don’t you come over to my place at night and on the weekend, after you’ve sobered up.”
“You heard him. He’s through with me.”
“I don’t remember hearing him say that. But I’ll ask him tonight if it’s okay if you come by. It’s worth a try. But you’ll have to sober up for me to do that. And you’ll have to come in to work Monday to get the answer.”
I felt good about giving Skip some encouragement to get his life back together. That night, on the walk to my van, I broached the subject with the devil. “Would it be possible for Skip to come over to my place to continue to get restrained by you as you used to do?”
“I can’t do it like I used to do. That would require more gear, such as another cage.”
“Make a list of the gear that is needed, and I’ll tell Skip on Monday to get those. I’m sure that he must have enough money to purchase those. I don’t think that would be a problem. He’s pretty desperate to get back with you again. He was devastated when you left.”
“That part doesn’t concern me. I’m now with you. If you want him also here, then I will do my best to satisfy both of you.”
That response surprised me. He would only do that to please me. I wondered why he was doing this, why he’d left Skip for me. And I wondered again what would happen when he would leave me. My life has turned into something special with him living there. Would my life turn upside down like Skip’s has if he left? And how would I get in touch with him if he suddenly left with no news of where he was going? Back in that cage, all those thoughts left my mind. I was back in my private heaven/hell again.
The next workday I told Skip what the devil had told me, that he was welcome, but would have to bring the necessary gear. Skip was surprised to hear that it would be possible to get back together again, and was more than happy to purchase what was needed. He told me he’d let me know when he got everything. Skip was soon back to being his normal self at work.
I’d been thinking more about what would happen to me if the devil left. I decided to talk to him about that. On the walk to the van that evening, after passing on Skip’s news, I said, “I’ve been extremely happy with having you move into my home. What can I do to help you?” I got no immediate response.
Later, after I was secured in the cage, the devil said, “I was surprised at your question. I’ve been living at a lot of guys’ homes, but they were all into receiving what I could give them. No one had ever asked me what they could do to help me. That all the previous guys were only interested in receiving from me was the main reason why I would leave them. I’ve given it some thought, and decided that, aside from putting me up and paying for all my needs, which you’re already doing, what you could do to help me is to get others to join us at your home. You’ve already done that with Skip, but I could handle more.”
I had more to think about while I was back in my private heaven/hell again. My life was now one of either being at work, going to and from work, or being confined in this little cage at home. I no longer had time to meet others. I figured that if I was going to recruit others I would have to have some other opportunities. I decided to broach this with the devil the next chance I had.
At work the next day, Skip still hadn’t gotten all the gear. He said he had to order some, and that would take a few days. He was starting to get antsy again, so I told him to just be patient, that it would all work out when the gear arrived. I noticed that his hair seemed to be turning greyer.
On the walk to my van that night, I told the devil “to be able to help you by getting others to join us, I would need to be able to have the opportunity to meet others. I suggest going to a club on Friday or Saturday nights to meet others who are into this lifestyle.”
Later, secured back into the cage, the devil said, “I expect to be needed here to deal with Skip, and any others that would join us. I agree that you will need the opportunity to meet others, but I think you should do that on your own.”
Thinking about that while I was back into my private heaven/hell again, I realized that he was right. I wasn’t sure how safe I would be, venturing out on my own as a sub into the leather bar I used to sometimes frequent, but I was willing to give it a go. On Friday, Skip told me that all the gear had arrived. He wanted some help moving it to my place, so after work, the devil and I helped him move. As those two were getting things organized at my home, I got dressed in leathers, put the cuffs on the sub side of my belt, and went to the leather bar. Since they still had things in the van to move into my home, I took public transit. I added a tie to my leather shirt to hide that spiked punishment collar that I still had on.
The bartender welcomed me back as someone who hadn’t been there in a while. I sat down, ordered a beer, and looked around to see who might be a likely person to want the devil’s services. Before I had hardly drunk any of my beer, my hands were forcibly brought behind my back and cuffed. When I started to say something, a gag was put into my mouth and buckled behind my head. After I was secured, I saw the guy go up to the bartender and hand him some money. The bartender smiled and put it into his pocket, walking away.
As the guy was strapping a leather collar around my neck over my shirt collar, he said, “hello, handsome. I haven’t seen you in here before. I can’t wait to get you to my place so you can find out what it’s like being dominated by a real he-man.”
I had dressed like I always did when going to that bar. I didn’t think. I’d obviously gone about my objective the wrong way, but it was too late to change now. Soon a chain was attached to the ring at the front of my collar and I was being pulled out of the bar. I wondered what I was in for, and for how long it would be.
To be continued …
Metal would like to thank Mister-X/Spartan for this story!