By nyc49
After I had been sent home with my dick locked up for an indefinite period of time, you would think that I would have learned my lesson. Eventually I got the key to the chastity device, and eventually I got myself unlocked. Still, I wanted to give my friends another try and see what challenges they could come up with. I arranged for another overnight session. By now it was winter, so I knew we wouldn’t be playing outdoors, and when we got to Ted and Bill’s house, I wasn’t asked to strip until I got inside. I thought maybe I would at least be allowed to keep my jockstrap on for awhile, they put everything away in a bag and told me to go down to the basement.
“You’ll see some instructions on the table and some toys,” Bill told me. “Read the instructions more than once, because once you start following them, you won’t be able to go back and double check.” This was intriguing. I turned on the light at the top of the stairs and walked down into the room where I had spent the night trying to escape from a duct-tape mummification. This time there was a roll of duct tape, a hood, a padlock and a pair of handcuffs laid out.
The instructions read: “First lock one cuff on one of your wrists. Then place a strip of duct tape over your mouth. Keep track of where the padlock and key are, because you won’t be able to see anything through this hood. Put the hood on, and when it’s comfortable, lock the padlock on the strap around your neck. Pick up the key and turn around two or three times. Then throw the key as hard as you can. Finally, attach the remaining cuff around your other wrist with your hands behind your back. Then wait.”
Pretty straightforward, I thought. And I understood why I would need to be sure about the instructions before I started. I put the handcuff on my left wrist. As I heard the ratchet click my heartbeat got a little faster. No way out now. Of course, I already had no idea where my clothes were or what the address was of this house, so I was already in a bind before I locked anything, but the finality of the metal was even more exciting. I ripped off a length of tape and sealed up my mouth. Taking one last look at the table, I put the hood on. It was padded on the inside, which was comfortable, but it also blocked out any light and almost all of the sound in the room. I fumbled a bit with the laces in the back, but I found the strap the closed around my neck. I felt for the padlock in front of me and closed it over the hasp. Definitely no way out now. I reached out for the key, and when I picked it up I remembered to turn around a few times and threw it. I think I heard it bounce off a wall, but I couldn’t be sure. Finally, I brought my hands behind my back and closed the other cuff over my right wrist.
So, here I was, naked, handcuffed, gagged and hooded. And not only was I hooded, but I was locked in this hood. And even if I wanted to unlock myself, I had no idea where the key was. And the guys upstairs now had no idea where it was. And if I knew, I wouldn’t be able to tell them, because I couldn’t speak. And if I had the key, I couldn’t unlock the hood with my hands cuffed behind my back. I definitely was not going anywhere, and my dick was definitely reacting to my predicament.
I heard some footsteps on the stairs, but muffled. Then I felt hands. More than two — four maybe? — all over my body. One hand worked my balls and another my dick. Was it two guys? Hard to tell. Emphasis on hard. Soon, they stopped. I felt something pull on my hood, and I tried to move my head forward, but they must have tied the hood off to one of the rafters. Then I felt something on my chest sting. And again, and again. Bill had talked about using one of his floggers on me at some point, and now I was helpless to resist. Without being able to see or hear him with his whip, I had no ability to brace myself or try to move back. It was infuriating, but apparently I must have enjoyed it, because I was still hard.
Once my chest and backside were feeling red, the whipping stopped. I heard some furniture getting shifted and some conversations. If I concentrated, I could hear snippets. It sounded like they were looking for the key to the hood but couldn’t find it. Sure enough, I felt an arm grab me as Ted leaned in close: “You did a good job of hiding that key, so we’re going to have you lie down for a while as we search.” My hood got detached from the ceiling, and I was led to the table. More hands guided my feet into what I realized was the sleepsack. Was I going to spend all night in this hood? I was getting thirsty, and the hood was really warm.
All the same, my arms were uncuffed and guided into the sleeves of the sleepsack, and I knew that at this point there was no point in resisting. The zippers got pulled up, and I felt another click as a lock was attached to the collar. Then the space inside got even tighter as the laces were pulled close. I tried wriggling, but there wasn’t much point. The zipper got pulled to below my waist, and a hand pulled out my cock and balls. I felt a cold lubed hand start to manipulate them, and I got close to cumming a few times. Clearly I was enjoying this. Then it stopped. A few minutes later, I felt something very cold – an icepack? I knew where this was going. Soon I felt something metal go around my balls, and my shaft got pushed into a cage. Click. Another night in a sleepsack and chastity? I knew I could do this. The question was: how long would it be this time?
Again, a voice next to my head: “We can’t find the key to your hood, but while we look, we thought we would keep you distracted,” Bill said. Distracted? Isn’t being immobilized with my dick in a cage the opposite of distracted? Then I felt myself being turned over. I tried to get comfortable – putting my weight on the cage was difficult, so I had to push my hips back, to the extent that I could. I heard a zipper – at my ass. I had forgotten that there was more than one entrance to this sleepsack. I felt cool air, then something a little slimy at my rectum, then something penetrating. My mind raced until I remembered having seen something that looked like a prostate massager in Len’s toy chest. I hoped that’s what it was, though at this point there would be nothing I could do.
The rear was zipped up again, and I was flipped back. I guess this qualified as a distraction, as I wriggled and struggled to try to get into a position that was more comfortable. Then I felt it vibrate. And vibrate more. I felt a hand on the exposed cage, and I heard “have fun!”
Given how disoriented I already was, I have no idea how long I spent in that sack with my prostate being gently (and not so gently) massaged. I know that had at least one ruined orgasm, and I could feel a sticky mess in my cage. Finally it stopped, and as my mind quieted down and my breathing got less heavy, I could hear someone say: “I think this is the key.” Hands lifted up my head, and I heard the padlock open and felt the hood being unlaced. I was expecting the lights to feel brighter, but the basement was pretty dim to begin with.
“Enjoy that?” Ted asked. After he took the duct tape off my mouth, I admitted that yes, I had, but I probably would have enjoyed it more if I had been able to be fully erect. “Too bad,” Ted replied, “we’re going to keep pushing your boundaries here.” I was taken out of the sack, the prostate massager was removed, and I got to stretch a bit. “Come upstairs and get cleaned up. We didn’t want you in that mess you made for the rest of the night.”
I walked upstairs and found a washcloth to clean up this new chastity cage: metal bars that curved down, padlocked and completely inescapable. My hosts poured me some Gatorade, as I had been sweating in the sack for a while. Then they led me back downstairs.
“There’s a mat on the floor and a pillow. Try to get some rest, since we have some fun plans for you for tomorrow.” This seemed like a great deal of freedom: before they had me sleep completely immobilized, but for the rest of the night I was relatively free. Admittedly, naked and in chastity, but I could walk around. I lay down on the mat, and from the top of the stairs I heard “Sleep well!” Did it have an edge when he said it? And was that the door being locked from the outside? It didn’t matter. Even though I thought I would have trouble sleeping, what with the new cage on my dick, the struggling and the adrenaline rush wearing off made it easy for me to nod off.
Until I felt my dick hurt. I remembered the pain of morning wood in chastity, but I wasn’t used to how this felt against the metal bars of this new cage. Still, once I was awake enough to realize what was going on, I remembered that there was an easy solution: morning wood is the body telling you to get up and pee. Simple. I got up off the mat, and while the basement was dark, I saw that my hosts had left a little night-light on the stairs. Then I noticed something else wrong: I felt something on my right ankle. That definitely had not been there when I fell asleep. I walked closer to the light to get a better look, and I heard a chain against the floor. I kept walking until I felt my right leg get pulled back. I reached down and pulled on the chain, and I realized that it was attached to something.
I got to the stairs and could barely reach up to the light, where I saw a note and a bottle of water. “If you’re reading this, you’ve noticed that we added some extra bondage for you. If you were coming upstairs for some water, here’s a bottle. If you needed to pee, well, here’s a bottle. See you in the morning.” With one long stretch I reached up to the light (the switch for the overhead light was at the top of the stairs, well out of reach) and for the bottle.
Since I was, indeed thirsty, I opened the bottle and drank it all. I didn’t want to have to worry about overfilling the bottle from the other end, as it were, and this had the potential to be a messy process. I emptied my bladder, and the pain against the cage subsided a little. With the help of the light, I could see that a leather cuff had been locked on my ankle (I must have been _very_ tired not to notice that), and a chain was locked from to the cuff and to a metal pole at the end of the basement. I was trapped, once again.
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.
