By nyc49

The sun was almost completely down by the time Ted and Len emerged from dinner.

“Come on inside. We’re almost ready, and Bill is looking for the combination to that lockbox.” They brought be into the kitchen. Apparently they had been enjoying a nice meal, which reminded me of the fact that I was getting hungry.

“We made something for you, too,” said Len, pointing to a bowl of oatmeal on the kitchen counter.  Ted took out the handcuff key and unlocked one cuff, re-locking it with my hands in front so that I could eat. I picked up the bowl and moved to the table.

“Nope,” said Len. “I don’t want your naked ass on my nice chairs. You can sit on that stool with the vinyl cover. Here’s a spoon.” I shuffled over to the counter and ate, though I had to bring both hands to my mouth with each bite. It was also a bit of a challenge getting up on the stool, with my ankles chained together. My butt cheeks stuck to the vinyl, and every time I shifted I had to be careful not to lose my balance, with my limited range of motion on all my limbs. It also felt really strange to be completely naked – apart from the chains and chastity device – in a room with three fully clothed men. My position and ranking in this scenario was abundantly clear.

As I finished my meal, I heard Bill say “I think I found the combination.” He went outside with a piece of paper, and I waited to find out if the keys I needed were still in that lockbox. After what seemed like longer than it should take to open a combination, her returned, jangling a set a keys. “I hope these are the right ones. Otherwise you’re going to be wearing that for a while.” He pointed to the chain at my neck. “And this,” he said, grabbing my caged package.

“We’ve had our dessert, so it’s time for your main course,” said Ted. “The bathroom’s down the hall. Use it now, because you’re not going to have another chance for a while.” I followed his instructions, glad that my hands were locked in front, not behind, though this still made the logistics tricky. When I got out, He told me to follow him to the basement. He opened the door, and I walked down the stairs carefully – not easy when each step is constrained by the chain connecting my ankles. For some reason I was expecting a dungeon, but the only equipment I saw was a massage table in the middle of the room.

Len and Bill followed, and Bill finally took the chain off my neck. It hadn’t been that heavy, but it was a great relief not to feel it anymore. Ted pulled over some bags from Home Depot and took out a roll of pallet wrap and some rolls of silver duct tape. Ah, time for mummification. I had been mummified before, but usually it was only partial mummification, with my feet and head uncovered, and with pretty loose application of tape. Still, I enjoyed it.

Ted asked, “Have you ever had your arms wrapped separately?” I told him I hadn’t and would like to try it. He unlocked the cuffs and put them in his back pocket. I rubbed my wrists for a few seconds, as this was the first time they had both been free since I got into his car this afternoon. He grabbed one hand and told me to make a fist. I did, and he started wrapping the fist in pallet wrap, and Len helped with the duct tape. They did the same to my other hand. The wrap continued up my arms, and then finally around my torso.

Ted kneeled down to unlock the leg cuffs, and I asked: “Are you going to unlock my dick now?” I wasn’t 100% sure he even had the key. “Why should I?” he replied, pulling down on the padlock, which did not budge. He pulled down on my balls, and when I grunted, he added: “Not like you could touch yourself anyway, now that we have your hands wrapped up.”

By now all three of them were in on the act, working as a team, wrapping, taping, helping each other cut off strips of tape to the right length. One thing that was new to me was that instead of just spooling the tape around and around my body and legs, they also included some strips that went up and down my torso and hips and legs. Soon there was nothing but silver tape from my neck to my ankles, though I thought I could see a bit of a bulge where the chastity device pushed against the wrappings. There were three sets of hands rubbing my body, which at first I thought was sensual, but then I realized was just to make sure that all the tape was sealed and stuck to the layers below.

“Time to get you horizontal,” said Bill, which was good, because there was only so much I could do to keep my balance. The three of them lifted me on to the massage table, and they got to work on my feet. When they were done, they stepped back to admire their handiwork, most of which I could barely see when I lifted my head up off the table.

“Let’s finish this off,” said Ted. He cut off a smaller piece of duct tape and attached it firmly to my lips. “No more talking out of you for a while.” Bill and Len then applied more wrap around my head, carefully keeping my nostrils open. Ted then added some more duct tape over my eyes, and soon I could see nothing, only hearing the sound of the tape coming off the roll and getting applied to the wrap over my head, connecting it to the tape on my torso. I was completely cocooned, with only the underside of my nose exposed.

I felt more hands on my head and my body. Feeling me up? Checking their handiwork? I couldn’t tell. And while the sound was muffled, I thought I heard them go upstairs. I couldn’t tell if they also turned out the lights, but I suspected that they had. No “goodnight”? No telling me what was going to happen next? I decided to relax and enjoy the mummification, but I was still concerned about where this scene was going.

I was relaxed enough, and perhaps tired out enough from the adrenaline surge that had been my entire day that I must have dozed off, because I woke up to feel someone’s hand on my crotch. I had no idea whose hand this was, but it seemed that he had scissors. Was the scene over? Were they going to cut me out of the duct tape cocoon so soon? I didn’t really like the thought of scissors being so close to my crotch, but the snipping stopped as soon as there was a big enough slit to pull out my caged dick. I heard Ted as he put his head close to my taped-up ear: “You’re finally going to get released,” as he jangled a key.  Finally!

The cage came off, and I was hard in no time. I felt a hand, cold with something slick (lube, I hoped), start to rub me, and then stop. I tried to thrust my hips a bit, but I could barely move. I realized this is what those vertical strips of tape were for: normally when I had been mummified, I could bend at the waist and the knees, but the tape going from my head to my toes eliminated even that kind of give. The only thing moving was my cock, in someone else’s hands. Which he soon took away. I tried to thrust again, without success.

“That’s right,” said Bill (how many were down here with me?). “If you want to get off, you’re going to have to wait until we’re ready. I got teased some more, and then it stopped. I heard some more footsteps, and it started again. Until it stopped. Then I heard someone going up the stairs. Was it two guys? More? I couldn’t be sure. The sound was muffled by the plastic wrap and the duct tape. This is what sensory deprivation was about. I heard more steps and another hand on my dick. A few more strokes. Then nothing. Then some shorter strokes. Then nothing.

I don’t know how long this went on, and during the “off” phases, I tried to imagine what I must have looked like: a silver package, with no resemblance to anything human, except for my erect pink cock sticking up straight at the ceiling. Apart from my heavy breathing, stretching the duct tape around my chest, there was nothing to suggest that there was a human being inside. I was just a dick attached to an object.

“Do you want to come?” I heard. I tried to nod my head and grunt “yes”, but I’m not sure the message got through. “We’ll let you come, but it’s going to be on our terms. Are you OK with that?” Of course I was OK with that – I wanted to come more than anything else I could imagine at that point. The strokes came harder and faster, and soon I shot my load. I don’t know how far or in what direction, but I gushed with great force, panting through my nose. Even after I came, he (who?) kept rubbing my cock, which was incredibly sensitive, and I writhed as much as I could trying to get him to stop, completely without success.

Eventually the torture stopped and my breathing returned to normal. I heard Ted’s voice again. “You said you wanted to come on our terms, so here they are. We’re going to keep you unlocked for the rest of the night.” This was the best news I could imagine. Also, it was still night, so that was a relief. “And we’re going to send you home unlocked, too.” This kept getting better. I was ready to be unlocked again, for good. “All you have to do is get yourself upstairs by the time we make coffee for breakfast.” Wait, what? “We’ll even leave your dick out to enjoy the fresh night air, but we’re not going to make it easy.” I heard some duct tape getting pulled off a roll, and then felt the gap at my crotch get reinforced around the edges. “Yeah, didn’t want to think that was going to give way.” I felt his hands move from my crotch to my hands. “Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t asked to have your hands wrapped separately, right? See you upstairs.”

I tried to unclench my fists, but they were securely taped. The only way I was going to get out of this on my own was to use my hands and fingers, but they were useless. Now I realized why they had spent so much time smoothing the tape down: it was to make sure there were no gaps that I could loosen in order to escape. What about finding something sharp to rub against? Maybe if I could get on the floor? But I remembered that I was on a massage table, and if I rolled over, I could land on my head and hit the concrete floor, not something I wanted to risk. I tried to rock from side to side to see if I could shimmy my legs over the edge, but even that didn’t get me anywhere. I couldn’t move; my fantasy of total immobilization had come true, and now I began to realize the truth to the saying that it’s not bondage until you want out.

I fidgeted and flexed as much as I could, but I made no progress. Before I knew what was happening, I smelled coffee: my deadline had passed. Soon I heard two sets of feet coming down the stairs. “Looks like someone’s going home locked up,” said Bill. “Let’s get you something to eat first.” My stomach was not the body part I was thinking about right now, but at least I would be making some progress. I felt some scissors cut from my crotch to my feet, and another set went from my crotch to my neck, and the tape and wrap were pulled off. Almost all of it. They left my hands in tape and my head wrapped as well. I sat up and immediately began to worry about hitting my head. They took my arms and marched me to the steps. I tried to feel my dick, which was swinging freely, but they made sure my balled hands did not reach that far.

Upstairs, they told me to go pee. I put my hands out and stepped carefully, hoping they had pointed me in the right direction. Eventually my feet touched porcelain, and I knew I was in the bathroom I had used before. If using it while locked up and cuffed was awkward, this was nothing. I wanted to pee standing up, a luxury to someone who had been in chastity, but I had no idea how to aim.

I finished and fumbled my way out. “We’re in here” I heard, and I carefully made my way to the kitchen, not sure who else was there. “Stand still”. Soon there were scissors carefully removing the wrap from around my head, leaving only my mouth taped. My eyes adjusted to the light, and the first thing I saw was the chastity device. “This goes back on.” I took a deep breath, but Ted and Bill were not paying any attention to my face or the look of pity and resignation I was trying to telegraph. With their four hands, the device was on quickly, and I heard the snap of the lock.

“Now that you can’t touch yourself, it’s safe to get your hands free.” The tape came off my hands, and finally torn off my mouth as well.

“Now you can eat!” said Bill, passing me some more oatmeal, which I devoured. Who knew that struggling all night could make you so hungry.

Finally, I asked what I had ben wondering all morning: “When do I get the key back?”

“What makes you think you should get it back?”

“But I never signed up for permanent chastity.”

“Look at yourself. You’re naked, in a stranger’s house, and your dick is locked up. You don’t have much leverage in this situation.”

“But – ”

Bill replied. “Len will mail it back to you.”

“Where’s Len?” I just noticed that I hadn’t seen him this morning.

“He’s on his way to the airport. Flight to Paris. Lucky, right? He said he was going to put the envelope in the mail before he flies out, so you should get it soon. Of course, sometimes he forgets to mail things. We nearly had the phones cut off once because he remembered to put a check and the bill in the envelope, but he forgot to put the envelope in the mail for a month or so.”

Ted got up. “I really do have to get going, so let’s take you outside.” I looked around, hoping maybe there was an extra key sitting on the table? Ted grabbed me by the chastity device, and I stumbled out of the house after him. He reached in his pocket for the key to his car’s trunk and pulled out the bag he had put my clothes in. I put on my jockstrap, then the rest of my clothes, which felt unusual after being naked for so long. He drove me to the train station. “I sure hope Len remembers to mail that key to you. Or that he doesn’t put it in his checked luggage. You know how that goes missing so often.”

When I got home, I checked my computer, hoping that there was going to be some kind of message letting me know when this round of chastity was going to end.  Instead, what I saw as I scrolled through some websites was a headline: “French postal strike enters third week; no resolution in sight.”

 

To be continued …

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Metal would like to thank the author, nyc49, for this story! If you liked it, please leave a comment for the author.