You’re In No Position to Negotiate – Part 01

By nyc49

I’ve been tied up by Charlie a few times, and I’ve been trying to get together with Ted for years – we both seem to know what gets the other excited, but we had never managed to find a time when we could both be free. Also, neither of us hosts, so this has been tricky to arrange. Charlie and Ted both live near each other in New Jersey, so I finally figured out that I could get all three of us together for some bondage fun.

Ted picked me up at the train station in Trenton. Ted had told me that his protocol is that I need to hand over all my clothing as soon as I enter the house, so as soon as the door was shut, I was instructed to strip, and he took my clothes away. I’m always a little worried that my host would have left some curtains open, but from what I could tell, I was safe – I’m not into sharing my bondage fantasies with the general public, I’m not into getting humiliated, and I don’t think it’s OK to bring “civilians” into our games.

We played for a few hours with Charlie’s excellent collection of toys, many of which lock and/or otherwise can’t be removed. The evening progressed through the usual steps of me getting more and more immobilized in his basement, and finally I was given some release. I’m skipping over some details, because that wasn’t really the point of this story. At the end of the evening, I was spent, tired and naked.

Ted and Charlie brought out a sleepsack, something I had always wanted to try, but the timing had never been right. Until tonight. They told me to relieve myself now, because I wasn’t going to be able to move until the morning. I followed their instructions, and when I returned, the sleepsack was laid out on the floor. Before long I was on the ground, in zipped up, tightened with rope and definitely unable to escape. The lock at the neck of the sleepsack made it quite clear I wasn’t going anywhere.

“We’ve got two more things to make this more interesting,” Ted told me. He moved the zippers to expose my crotch, and he pulled out his CB-3000 chastity device. He had talked about it before, and I had said I would be interested in trying it on for a few hours. I didn’t want to make the commitment to wear it outside, but in the safety of the dungeon? Sure. I couldn’t quite see what was going on, but soon I could feel that my dick had been squeezed into the hard plastic tube. Ted smiled at me as he closed his hand, and I heard the click of the lock. This made me get hard again, but not for long, as I filled up the device only as much as it would let me. I could fidget inside the sack, but there wasn’t much give.

“What was the other thing?” I asked. Charlie produced a hood that covered the top of my face, but not my mouth. “Normally we would gag you, too, but if you’re going to be here all night, it seemed safer not too. All the same, you’re not going to know if it’s night or day down here.” The hood went on, and I was in darkness. It was a little disorienting, but there was nothing I could do. And being in chastity for the first time for any length of time? Well, it was just for the night. I could handle that, right? After the adrenaline rush faded, I dozed off.

I woke up at least once during the night – was it still night? Couldn’t be sure. It was scary at first, not being able to move my limbs, but I quickly remembered what was going on. Finally, I could smell coffee being brewed and I could hear footsteps upstairs. I didn’t want to call out, because I didn’t want to appear to be weak, but I was ready to get out and go home. It had been a fun adventure, and I was ready to store it in the memory banks until next time.

Ted came downstairs. After a little teasing, he said he would let me up for breakfast. Of course, he didn’t have the key that would get me out of the sleepsack. He went back upstairs, and I could hear him talking with Charlie. But nothing about me, nothing about getting a key. I was starting to get worried, until I heard Charlie come down the stairs. He let me out, and as I stretched, I realized I needed to pee. Charlie looked at me as if to say, “so what?”, so I figured I would just have to pee with the chastity device on. Part of the experience, I guess.

I ate breakfast with the two guys, and it was a little odd being more or less naked, while they were fully clothed and made small talk. Eventually we got around to the subject of which train I should take back to New York. There was one in an hour, so if we left soon I would have no problem making it on that train. “So, can I have my clothes back?” I asked. Ted nodded and walked off to a different part of the house. He brought back a bag with my clothes, and he pulled out my jockstrap (he insisted I wear one, which I found exciting, as it made my “bondage” experience start at home). I pointed to the chastity device that was still locked on me. Ted smiled.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to push your limits a little and make you wear that all the way to the train station. I’ll give you a key, and you can head into the men’s room to take it off and bring it back to me.”

“But I don’t want to wear this outside. People will see the bulge, right? And what if we get into a car accident along the way?”

He reached out and grabbed my crotch, encased in hard plastic. “You’re not really in a position to negotiate right now, are you?”

He was right. I took my jockstrap and the rest of my clothes and got dressed. As he opened the door, I looked around to see if any of the neighbors were watching. They weren’t. I looked down at my crotch, and frankly my jeans were loose enough that I think no one could tell what was going on underneath. But I wasn’t 100% sure.

I was nervous as we drove to the station. Could people in the other cars on the road see I was locked up? What if we got into an accident? What if the cops pulled us over for something? I didn’t really know Ted – for all I knew the car could be stolen. The nerves I was feeling got me aroused, which continued to be a problem I could do nothing about.

We pulled into the train station, and Ted handed me the key. Finally. “Run into the men’s room. I’ll wait here so you can give me the cage back.” I walked quickly and awkwardly – what was this thing in my pants? I snuck into a stall in the men’s room, a little short of breath. I unzipped my pants and pulled out the device. My hands shook a bit as I put the key in the lock. But it didn’t fit. I tried the other way around (I’ve always been bad with locks). Nothing. I tried applying a little force, but that didn’t work either. They key was the wrong shape and wouldn’t go in at all.

“Very funny,” I thought. I pulled my pants up and left the men’s room to get the right key from Ted. However, when I got outside, his car was gone. My stomach dropped. Maybe he needed to circle the block? No point in getting a ticket while waiting for me, I guess. I waited a minute for traffic to go by, hoping to see his car. And another minute. And another. I remembered I could text him:

“Wrong key. Where are you?”

I waited for him to message back. Finally:

“I know. On my way home.”

“Can you bring me the key?”

“I shouldn’t text and drive. Go back to NY. Don’t contact me again until you’re home.”

The next train was leaving in a few minutes, so I ran to the platform, the sensation of running in chastity being completely new. I tried to find a seat on the train where I could get some, what?, privacy? Even though there was no visible bulge under my jeans, I worried that no matter how I sat, someone would notice.

It felt like the longest train ride ever, as did the subway home. I finally made it to my computer and sent Ted a message: “WTF?”

Eventually he e-mailed back: “You wanted your limits pushed. You got what you wanted.”

“This is way more than I bargained for. I have to go to work tomorrow.”

“You’ll just have to go to work locked up. Should help you concentrate.”

“When will you send me the key? The real key.”

“I’ll put it in the mail tomorrow. Should reach you in two days. Or a little more. You just have to promise me that you will return the cage according to my instructions.”

I promised (not sure what he meant – by FedEx and not UPS?) and sent him my postal address. He didn’t reply to acknowledge my message. In the past it was not unusual for me to send him a message and not hear back for weeks. This time his silence was much more ominous.

My next step was some quick internet searches for tips on life in chastity. How would I keep myself clean? Would I need extra time after the shower to dry the thing off? Would the lock rust? I really didn’t want to have the lock seize up on me.

I managed to get some sleep, and in the morning I put some tape around the lock to keep it from making a tell-tale rattling sound. I tried on a few pairs of pants before finding the ones that showed the least amount of bulge. Work was OK, after I got myself distracted enough to stop thinking about my crotch. I made a few changes: no peeing at the urinal, for practical reasons (and what if someone looked over? How would I explain this to anyone, let alone a co-worker?). I also used this as an excuse to skip the gym; compression shorts under my regular shorts could keep everything under control, but doing burpees and Superman stretches with something hard and plastic on my crotch wasn’t going to be comfortable. I also skipped the pool – no hiding this device under my Speedo or in the communal showers.

The mail from Trenton takes about two days, and by Wednesday, I was racing home after work to check my mailbox. To my infinite relief, there was an envelope with a Trenton postmark, no return address, and what felt like a key inside. My heart was beating hard as I got to my apartment. Rarely have I dropped my pants faster as I opened the envelope. The only contents of the envelope was the key. With my hands shaking again, I put it in the lock, and it worked. I still had to work everything out of the device, which was tricky as I was already getting aroused again at the prospect of freedom. I came quickly, free at last.

I sent a message to Ted to let him know the key had arrived.

“Remember that I want it back, and that you’ll have to deliver it the way I ask.”

“No problem. How do you want it?”

“You’ll need to deliver it in person.”

“OK. When are you free?” I figured this could lead to another great bondage session, right?

“Weekend after next. I’ll contact you next Sunday to start setting things up.”

This was a great relief to me. I didn’t want to have the device in the house, because it’s exactly the sort of embarrassing thing that a visitor would stumble upon, no matter how well you hid it.

I spent the next week wondering what Ted had in mind…


Click for next part


Metal would like to thank the author, nyc49, for this story!



3 thoughts on “You’re In No Position to Negotiate – Part 01”

  1. I love these writings. So much more intense than other sources.

    What I never understand is Doms who say “strip” to their boy. I do not give the boy the control to decide on what to take off, when, or in what manner. Each article of clothing is in My domain of control as is the rest of boy.

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