Be Careful What You Dream For

 

I never thought I would write story for Eunuch Archive, let alone a mostly true story (characters and events have been condensed). It all happened so fast. I was a middle aged divorced male, white, 5’8’, 165 lbs. I have two wonderful children. I raised them alone after my wife left because she decided she didn’t want to be married. Before I was married I had many girlfriends and a few after I was divorced. I though being gay was repulsive.

That suddenly changed within the last eighteen months. It started with the Internet, as many things do today. I was always a fan of porn and the Internet made it readily available. Never went to any web pages that you had to pay for though. I loved to look at pictures but especially loved to read the stories. Cannibalism stories fascinated me, and I read as many as I could find. Somewhere along that time I found the Eunuch Archive. These stories truly turned me on. I fantasized about being a eunuch or nullo. In one bulletin entry I found a reference to the Extreme Genital Modification Page. This was great. I was becoming more and more turned on by looking at men. I was also becoming obsessed with always being naked while at home. I began completely shaving my body except head hair.

I then became so bold as to put pictures of my body on the Extreme web page with a profile that I wished to be a nullo or castrated. Then it started to get serious. I found myself thinking about what it would be like to be screwed my another man, what it would be like to suck another man’s dick and swallow. When I jacked off I often ate my own come. I decided I wasn’t ready to be castrated and became interested in the large balls and dicks the pumpers had modified. I sent messages to several and one responded. This was the beginning.

We switched to meeting online privately. He showed me how to use a web cam and for the first time I was showing my naked body to another man in live action. This led to him leading me through ordering pumping supplies and starting to pump my dick and balls. I was now obsessed with having huge balls and a huge dick and was getting there. My balls were large and I loved it. Something else was happening at this time, he asked me to jack-off for him and I did. I kept jacking off whenever he asked me. He led me to the pumper’s page, where the chat room has a live cam feed. Now I was showing my package to a chat room of total strangers. It was fantastic; I had never felt so turned on.

The conversation started to be more about gay sex. I found my self-asking to be fucked. I wanted my balls to be pumped large and then I wanted to be fucked. I could just feel those big dicks fucking me. He invited me to his town. He said we could pump and he would help with saline injections, which would make my balls really huge. I wanted this and I wanted to put pictures on the web page so others could see me. I was following a path that would change me forever.

My new friend showed me dildo’s he had on hand. He said we could try these. One was shaped like a large dogs dick. This I found very interesting. I looked up bestiality stories on the net and became turned on by the idea. My friend mentioned slave master relationship and having read many stories in the Archives I was turned on with the though of being a slave. Things were escalating. I dreamed of being in a dog collar and leash and nothing else. I dreamed of being fucked and sucking dick. And really strange I dreamed of being held by a large dog and fucked by a dog. These dreams were closer than I could imagine.

My friend invited me to his city and amazingly I accepted. Me the straight stud who never even thought about gay things until the last year. I made arrangements for a suite and took some vacation time. I brought my pumping equipment and lots of rubbers. I was finally going to get fucked. How much and by how many I could not have guessed.

I arrived and we met at a restaurant. We had dinner then we went to his condo. He had a partner who was not home at the time. After some conversation we got down to the nitty gritty. We both had seen each other naked many times on the web cam but this was up close and personal. He was hairy but not too much as compared to my totally smooth look. After we were naked we immediately set our pump session. I was totally hard and could barely fit in the pumping tube. We pumped for a few hours till we were pretty large. It was great to have someone besides myself massage my balls during the breaks.

I was harder than I have ever been. At one point we were very close, as need be, when he leaned over and kissed me. A man had never kissed me before it was frightening but I began to love it. For the first time in my life I was the passive party, I was the bitch. Our tongues intertwined, it was wonderful. The next thing I knew he was pushing me gently down his chest, I licked and sucked his nipples, he groaned as I moved on down. Then it was there, my first dick up close. I licked it, the taste was not gross. I took it in my mouth; it was so smooth and silky. I liked the pre-come and tasted it on my tongue. Finally I sucked it; I took as much as I could in my mouth. I did the things I know I like. I licked the under side right behind the head. Slowly I sucked and licked until, again for the first time, another man came in my mouth. I swallowed it all, it tasted great. I felt this was right for me.

I stood up and we kissed more. His hairy body against mine felt wonderful. We went back to pumping until we were both huge. The rest of the evening we relaxed and talked. He said tomorrow things would get serious. I arrived early the next day. He took me to the living room and said take off all your clothes, which I love to do anyway. After I was naked he walked behind me and placed leather studded dog collar around my neck. This would be all I would wear that day and many other days. A leash was hooked and I was led to the bedroom where we pumped up for the day to come.

It was that afternoon, after we pumped, he hugged and kissed me again and gently led me to the bed. On the nightstand was plenty of lube. He laid me on my back on the bed. He lifted my legs and lubed my ass. I had never had anyone’s fingers up my ass before, it felt good. He placed my legs on his shoulders and his dick at my ass hole. Ever so slowly he entered my ass. It was a little painful at first but it felt so good I quickly became adjusted. Slowly he pumped me, I came on my stomach without being touched. I know this was right for me. He picked up speed as I became more comfortable. We both were moaning as I began to feel his cock swell, when I realized he hadn’t put on a condom. I didn’t care at this point. Then he moaned loudly, thrust hard and he came in me. I was amazed I could feel him coming in me. He stayed in me and held me for a while. I loved the feel of his hairy body on mine.

His partner was coming home that evening and I was in for more new experiences. I was naked all day except for my collar and leash. My friend helped me shave my body, reaching places I could never get to, my back and ass hole. It was a great feeling, I was hard constantly. My huge balls hanging out bouncing against my thighs was so great. I found it very erotic that my friend was dressed while I stayed naked. His partner came home to find me naked and leashed. While he wasn’t as interested in me as my friend, he was very nice. After dinner we went on-line to the Pumpers page with the live cams.

There we showed ourselves and pumped along with others. Many liked my smooth look and when during a pump break some noticed I was semi hard asked me to jerk off. I was too shy but my friend took charge and much to the delight of everyone watching he jerked me off, another first for me. I though my dick would burst it was so hard. We signed off and moved to the bed. My friend again gently pushed me downward, I took the hint and moved to his dick and began to suck. As I was doing this my ass was naturally in the air and soon I felt lube being applied as his partner slowly eased his dick into my ass hole. I was being fucked at both ends and loving it.

They both picked up speed and finally thrust into me and held me tight as they both came in me seconds apart. Again we forgot the condoms but who cared it felt so good. I could feel and taste the come. I spent the next day naked with my collar while we pumped till our dicks and balls were so big we couldn’t have fit them in any of our underwear. In one weekend I went from a heterosexual man with children and some fantasies to a naked, gay, bottom, that had been fucked from both ends and loved it. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend. My friend had some new things in store.

Finally the next weekend rolled around and I drove to my friend’s city. I didn’t bother with a hotel room this time. As soon as I entered the door off came my clothes and on went the collar. After dinner he said he had a big surprise for me. We were going out! Since I was naked it might be a problem. My friend had this solved. He put a graduation type gown on me. The collar and leash still showed as he led me to the car. We pulled up in front of a gay bar. My first time in a gay bar and I was basically naked and being led around on a leash. I should have said naked because as soon as we entered the gown came off. I was totally naked in a roomful of gay men. I was also totally erect, almost painful I was so hard. With my pumped up balls I was freakish. I was also very popular. Everyone was touching me as my friend, or should I now say it “Master” led me through the crowd. God I was turned on. We sat a table in the back as my Master talked quietly to many of the patrons. After a while he pulled my leash and we went to a special room in the back. It had a padded table in the middle with some towels and a bottle of lube. I was laid on the table and my Master rubbed me down then lubed my ass.

Then men started entering the room four and five at a time. I was fucked on my back flipped over and fucked on my stomach doggie style (which I liked the best). While I was being fucked dicks were stuck in my mouth and I sucked till my jaw hurt, swallowing loads of come in all flavors. Of the dicks in my ass some had condoms some did not. All I knew was come was running out all over my ass. I came several times by men jerking me off while they fucked me. I have no idea how many men fucked or I sucked that night but I was very sore. My Master, in anticipation, was thoughtful enough to have brought a diaper since I no longer could hold anything in my stretched ass hole. We went back to his house where he cleaned me in the shower gave me a big kiss and put me to bed.

The next day since my ass hole was already stretched my Master tried the dog dildo on me. It was very long but the knot just would not go in, it was too big even for my used ass hole. The length and strange shape did feel good. We pumped again, I can’t get over my huge balls, and I returned home sore but satisfied. I couldn’t wait to get back the next weekend.

The weekend started the same, enter strip, collar. After dinner the gown was put on and in the car we went. This time we drove out into the countryside. We pulled into a long drive leading to a secluded house. This was a friend of my Master, we left the robe in the car and I was led naked to the house. We entered and sat for some small talk. After a while my Master’s friend said let’s get started and I was led into a large den type room where I saw him. Him was a large dog. I don’t think he was a pure bred anything just a large dog like a Rotweiler or something. Buster was his name. I was placed over a small padded bench in the middle of the room, resting on my stomach my ass sticking out. The Master’s friend rubbed something on my balls and ass. As soon as he opened the jar the dog perked up and smelled the air. “Buster” moves to me and began to lick my balls and ass. I was rock hard at the thought of what was going to happen. My master slipped his hand between the dog and me and lubed my ass hole. It was going to happen, after all the stories I read and videos I watched on the Internet that turned me on so much I was about to fucked by a dog.

You cannot imagine how good it feels when the dog lays on your back with his very warm and furry body. It is like a living blanket. My own dick was about to explode when the dog’s owner lined the dog’s dick up with my ass. I want to tell you it is not very easy to be fucked by a dog. Their dick keeps slipping out as they hump very fast. With a little help from the dog’s owner he managed to keep the dog’s dick pumping in me pretty well. It is a fantastic feeling because the dog moves so fast and generates so much heat. My ass hole kept trying to suck the dog dick in me and keep it. Remember I could not take the canine dildo’s knot so I thought no way a real dogs knot would fit. However with the owners pushing and the knot being slightly smaller combined with plenty of lube the knot went in me.

You might not know this but after it enters the bitch it sort of turns sideways to stay in. It didn’t hurt for it to do this but there was no way it would come out without ripping me apart. Just after the knot turned and locked the dog in me, the dog began to come. It was more than I could have dreamed, it thinner that people come, and it just kept squirting. I felt so full. The dog then turned around swiveling his dick in me till we were ass to ass. I had to stay this way for about thirty minutes till the knot turned around and the dog could break lose out of my ass. The dog come then gushed out of my ass for about a minute and a half. I was so satisfied and happy. I hoped to do this again many times. It was especially great when the dog licked my dick and ass clean.

We alternated situations like these for several months, it was great. I had huge balls, was regularly fucked and I loved sucking dicks. But things were about to change and this is why this story is in the Eunuch Archive. It started a few months ago; I was living a regular life in my town and my weekends in my Masters city getting fucked and pumping. I began to feel soreness in my balls. They became very sensitive. I finally had to see an urologist. I chose to find a doctor in another city since my new lifestyle may have factored in to my problem. As luck would have it the doctor turned out to be gay and was very understanding.

The catch was my sore balls had nothing to do with my life style. It was a congenial birth defect something about my cords being tensioned. He said it was amazing that it didn’t bother me before. My balls were not getting enough circulation and constant pain would be the result. It would be like being kicked in the balls all the time. The remedies are heavy use of pain killing drugs with their side effects or double orchiectomy (take out my balls). They could put fake balls back in my sack so I would not look different and I could take testosterone to keep my masculinity. I thought about this and discussed it with my Master. Remember at the beginning of my saga reading about castration was a turn on for me. Now I had to make a choice give up the huge balls I get from pumping or constant pain. I decided to give up my balls.

Now the decision was how, when and where. The doctor was great he understood my dilemma and would help in anyway. The only way he was allowed to operate was thru the abdomen and besides that was the only way to remove my cords which were the real problem anyway. The doctor helped big time in two ways. First, he agreed to save my balls and return them to me even though it is against medical rules. He also contacted a plastic surgeon in the gay community to remove my sack and make me smooth below my dick. It helped that the urologist owned his own clinic with a surgical suite. I scheduled the surgery and took a months vacation and sick leave. Another handy thing was since it was a medical necessity to remove my balls my insurance was paying for it. The doctors agree to manage the plastic surgeons fees in the bill to insurance. My Master agreed to help me recover. My children thought it was hernia surgery.

Now I come to today, two months later. I am officially a eunuch. My stitches are gone and were my balls used to be is a fine little scar with still a little redness. My Master and I decided no hormones. My dick has already shrunk to the size of a big clit, no more fucking for me (like the look however, just a little button at the top of my groin). My hips are rounder and easier for my Master and others (including the dog) to grip. And another part I really, really like is my little breasts. They are so pretty. My nipples have gotten much bigger and I get so turned on when they are sucked. It is much easier to keep hair off my body since it has stopped growing dark and coarse. My whole body seems more sensitive. My weight has dropped to about 140 lbs. If I wear something tight I have the body of a girl.

I still live and go to work in my city. Nobody knows my secret, they think I was sick and lost weight. I wear baggy clothes to work. On the weekends I go to my masters. I am still naked and collared as soon as I enter. He still likes to fuck me and I like to suck him. We go to the gay bar about once a month, where they really like to feel me up. I don’t think as many want to fuck me as before. I must look too much like a girl now. I would like to dress like a girl but my Master pretty much keeps me naked so clothes aren’t necessary. I really love more than ever being fucked by the dog (or dogs I should say there have been more since the first). I do sometimes miss my pumped up dick. I can come rubbing my nubbin dick but it’s not the same. I don’t get that feeling when the come shoots out. But other sensations make up for it.

So that’s my story up to now. I started out being turned on by eunuch stories, moved to pumping and big balls and being fucked. Then in a round about way ended up a real gay eunuch and loving it. I want to get pictures posted on some web page soon so everyone can enjoy me.

Oh by the way, my Master brought my balls home in a jar and prepared them, then sautéed them and I ate one the he ate the other. Tasted good had the consistency of liver but was a delight anyway. I only regret I could only eat them once.

Thanks for sharing my saga.

Banded by Choice

Castration Bands Applied To Testicles

 

I’m a 35 year old bodybuilder who abused steroids in my weight training for many years. I achieved the body I wanted, but eventually developed serious problems which required my stopping the injections cold. Deprived of the drug my body had come to count on, my testicles went into overdrive, producing double the normal amount of testosterone. It sent me through the roof, causing aggressive behavior and an inability to control my sexual desires. Morning till night, I couldn’t concentrate on anything but sex. Work suffered, as well as, my relationship of ten years. As months passed, I believed that things would return to normal, but after several confrontations, my partner announced that he wasn’t going to tolerate my behavior any longer and would leave if I didn’t get help.

I went through several drugs meant to control hormone production, including those used in chemical castration of sex offenders. The side effects totally took me down, basically leaving me unable to function at work, the gym or at home. Frustrated with my options, I asked the question I had avoided for months. “Castration would solve the problem, right?” My doctor recoiled at the mention of the “c” word. He answered, “yes”, but that it was absolutely not an option he would consider as a treatment. I was on my own.

I sat with my partner that evening and I explained what I was considering. I told him that castration would eliminate the rage and since I had been on steroids for many years, the thought of hormone replacement therapy didn’t really bother me. Avoiding the obvious pun, this was going to fix everything and I had decided castration wasn’t the worst thing that could happen in my life. Lots of guys have lost their testicles to cancer, prostrate trouble and they’ve done just fine.

I was surprised by his calm reaction. He listened intently, then said, “I don’t know what to say, that’s a serious move, one that can’t be undone. I mean I’ll support your decision without question – but that’s a hell of a sacrifice.” From that I figured I had his approval. Now I just have to figure out how to “do the deed”.

The options for castration are pretty limited- cutting, clamping or restriction. I immediately ruled out surgery because it required a third-party cutter – an outsider I wouldn’t know or trust. Cutting my ball sack open really bothered me. I figured this was something I had to do myself, so I searched the web for options which came down to a Burdizzo or an Elastrator. I found information on their use, effectiveness and recovery. I figured I had to go with a bloodless method and tough out whatever pain was associated with it.

In retrospect, I guess I must have had some hesitation, because I ruled out the Burdizzo. It would be quick and over with one 30-second crush. Definitely no turning back once you started, plus I wondered if would I be able to hold the grip if the pain was intense. So I opted for the Elastrator which came with a bag of 100 green castrating bands and a “cat claw” band cutter. I looked at the bands and thought, “Which one of you guys gets to do the deed.”

I examined the instrument, loaded a band on the four prongs and squeezed the jaws open. It worked simple enough, over the sack and let it go. My heart began to race. What would it feel like? Could I really go through with it? I decided to test it out. I stripped off my pants and shorts – my ball sack was now vulnerable.

With the Elastrator fully extended the band formed a nice square which easily slipped over my scrotum. I slowly released my grip letting the jaws and the band close around my ball sack. It was uncomfortable, but then I realized the prongs were sticking me. I worked the band off the first prong and then the second, third and finally free from the Elastrator. The band restricted into my sack but felt more comfortable than before. I can’t say it hurt, more like a strong pinch with a really strange feeling beginning to build. After only a minute or two, my scrotum turned red which meant the band was doing what is was designed for. I reached for the band cutters, I took a deep snip and the tight green band came free. As the stabbing pain of blood rushing back into the testicles and scrotum hit me, I realized that cutting it off hurt more than leaving it on.

Later that night when my partner came home, I showed him the Elastrator and explained how it worked. He immediately asked, “Have you tried it?” After I described my experience, he answered, “Doesn’t sound like you’re exactly ready, but if, and when, the time does comes, I’ll be here.”

In the next couple days we had a lot of sex, mostly because my hormones were continuing to race and we both realized my rampant desires were going to come to an end soon. Afterwards, it always came back to the same thing – we’d start talking about “doing the deed”..

I was becoming more comfortable with idea. Especially after I had met a guy on-line who claimed he had been castrated with a Elastrator. His first-hand account was pretty graphic which made me think it really was his experience. He told me about the “sick” feeling in the lower abdomen which let you know the testicles have been deprived of blood and the most difficult part for him – waiting for the damn things to fall off. All-in-all, it didn’t sound as bad as I had feared. I was even more determined to proceed.

It was late Friday night and we were almost asleep when my partner got up and left the room. I heard the bath tub running which struck me a odd since we both shower. Ten minutes later he came in and said, “I think this is the night to do the deed. We’ve got the weekend to deal with whatever happens as a result of tonight.” His logic made sense and I was relieved to follow his lead.

There in the bathroom my razor, shave cream and several towels where neatly laid out. He said, “Strip down and I’m going to shave your balls.” I asked if that was really necessary. “Probably not, lets just say this is for me.” He knelt in front of me and proceed to lather and shave my ball sack. He took his time which meant he was really enjoying this.

When he was finished, I added hot water to the waiting tub and sat down trying to relax. He commented, “A loose sack and balls will make it easier for the band to take a good hold from the start.” I looked at him, “Sounds like you’ve been doing a little research on your own.” He flipped back, “I have.” He then produced a 30mg Restoril. “Take this, it’ll help you relax and get to sleep later.” I took the pill and continued to soak, my freshly shaved scrotum floated freely in the water.

As the sedative kicked in, he knelt down by the side of the tub and started talking to me in a low, calm voice. “I told you from the beginning that I would support you through this. This has been a huge emotional strain to get to this point…for both of us. I picked tonight because we either need to get this done or drop it. It’s totally up to you if we continue or not, but if we do, I need to hear your commitment that once the band goes on, it doesn’t come off for any reason until it falls off. Frankly, I don’t think I can go through this again.”

I responded that I couldn’t agree more.

I dried off and he brought me my favorite workout shirt. The warm bath did it’s trick, my scrotum was loose with my two balls clearly defined and hanging low in the sack. He put one hand around me and opened a draw. There lay the Elastrator, loaded with a band. “Let’s make this real easy, I’m going do it for you.” I nodded with relief. It somehow seemed easier knowing I wasn’t doing this to myself, but that my partner was going to castrate me, which he now seemed quite determined to do.

He gripped the Elastrator retracting the band to its full capacity. “It’s going to be okay”, he assured me. As he moved the instrument up under my scrotum, it slipped through the square made by the extended band. As he released the grip and the band closed in, he pulled my scrotum down to insure a tight fit to top of the sack under my cock. As before, I felt the prongs of the Elastrator sticking me. One by one he worked the band off the first three prongs, then stopped for a moment and looked at me. Remembering my commitment, I nodded my approval and the band slipped from the final prong embedding itself into my skin. The constriction was more intense than the first time, the loose sack did make it easier for the band to bite in and take hold.

The Elastrator immediately went back in the drawer and my partner put his arms around me and took me into the bedroom. “It will be better if you lay down.” That strange feeling was starting to come over me. My ball sack and testicle wanted to retreat, but the band restricted their once free movement. As I laid down the feeling crept into my abdomen just as I had been advised. A queasy belly ache – not really pain, but very uncomfortable none the less. Even with the sedative, it was difficult to relax. My body wasn’t happy about what was happening as the band continued to restrict tighter with each passing minute.

My partner laid down next to me stroking my chest and abdomen and finally reached down to my crotch and stroked my captured balls. “You doing okay?” It was hard to speak, I just nodded. I knew he couldn’t resist seeing his handy work and after about thirty minutes he took a look. “It’s definitely doing the job. Your sack is dark purple.” The ache had intensified and the pinch of the band had started to throb. I figured this was probably it, the point of no return and I tried to clear my mind of what was happening. As I rolled on my side, I could feel the ball sack had turned cold as it lay against my thigh. It already felt foreign, not a part of my body. With my partner spooned on my backside, his arm over me as a protector, I did manage to fall into a daze.

When I woke the next morning, I found my partner standing over me looking down at my crotch. Eight hours had passed since the band had been secured and pretty much the “deed” had been done. The ache in my belly had subsided and the only pain was from the compressed skin just above the band. I reached down for the first time and found my scrotum cold and without feeling. I worked my fingers around my testicles which produced no sensation either. I looked up at my partner and asked the stupid question, “How does it look?” His somber expression told me all I needed to know, but he answered anyway. “Well, it’s pretty black. I think it’s safe to say their finished. The band has cut into the skin to the point I can hardly see it.”

I spent the next two days in bed. My body was worn down by the trauma. But even by the morning after I realized that my over charged drive was gone. The band had done it’s work alright, cutting off the blood stopped the flow of testosterone. That perked my spirits. I had accomplished what I set out to do. But this black cold lump of dead tissue was starting to bug me. It had been more than two and a half days since I was banded. There seemed to be some uncertainty how long it would take to fall off on its own, but I wanted it gone now. So I called my doctor and made an appointment.

When the doctor came in I was wearing my baggy workout pants. He asked what was up and I flatly told him that he wasn’t going to be happy to see me.

When I pulled down my pants he grimaced at the sight. “I took things into my own hands. Now that it’s done, I want to have it rest removed…today, if possible.” He shook his head and said, “Unbelievable, you actually did it.” With great reluctance he groved his hands and began feeling around my black ball sack. I could tell the testicles had started to become mushy as I watched him probe around, but no feeling whatsoever. “I’m going to call a surgeon friend about this. This needs to be removed above the band and sutured closed to avoid serious complications. Under the circumstances, I’m sure he will see you today. It will be a fairly easy in-office procedure. Then I suggest you find yourself another doctor.”

It’s been five years since the banding and I haven’t regretted it for a day. My partner and I have built a strong relationship which really started that night when he releasing the band from the final prong. He will always be the guy that “did the deed” for which he takes full responsibility. I know it sounds sadistic, but that’s a bond that will always be there. And just to remind me, he comes home every so often and greets me with, “How’s my gelding?”..but only in private.

 

Becoming An Unwilling Piss Slave

 

From high school wrestling star to pathetic piss-bitch, it’s been quite a rapid descent for Card Stevens. In less than a year, he’s gone from big man on campus to a human urinal who spends his weekends in the bathrooms of a gay bar, sitting naked in his own piss while downing load after load of stinking bladder wastes from dudes he used to scorn as disgusting perverts. And even though he’s already swallowed enough pee in the last six months to float a battleship, he still blushes like a little girl every time a dude he knew in high school steps up, unzips, and unloads his stinking urine down Card’s frantically gulping throat. He’s an honest-to-God piss-bitch now but that sure as hell wasn’t the future he saw laid out in front of him when he first ran into his Master, when he first met Jackson Anders.

He didn’t know that the dude sticking his hand out and introducing himself as his new roommate was going to be his Master. No, Card didn’t have a clue what the larger boy had in store for him. He took Jackson Anders for what he purported to be, a fellow wrestler, another scholarship student destined to help out State’s fabled wrestling team win another National championship. Little did he realize that behind the placid demeanor Anders presented to the world lurked a brutal sadist who took particular pleasure in sexually abusing and degrading other jocks, turning them into cowering, pathetic fuck-toys who would submit to any sick perversion Anders’ mind could devise. But Card’s epiphany was not long in coming.

They’d only been roommates two weeks before Anders made his move. The two of them had gone out after classes were over on Friday for a few brews. Card was surprised at what seemed to Anders unlimited capacity, but he tried to keep up with the bigger boy. By the time they called it quits, Card was finding it difficult to focus and he never would have made it back to the dorm if Anders hadn’t been there to help him.

And Anders continued to help him once they got back to their room, helping Card doff his clothes, though at times it seemed that his lands lingered a little too long on the smaller wrestler’s body. However, it wasn’t until Card was completely naked that the true nature of his roommate’s interest in Card’s body became apparent. Card felt Anders’ fingers running up and down the cleft of his ass. “Dude,” Card asked, trying to shake Anders’ hand off his butt, “what are you doing?”

But instead of removing his hand, Anders fingers stopped at Card’s puckered sphincter and began pressing a rigid digit against it. A second later, Card was shocked to hear Anders ask, “You cherry, Card? You ever been fucked?”

“What the fuck you talking about, dude?” Card exclaimed, trying to move away from his roommate. In just seconds, the two of them were grappling with each other, tumbling onto Card’s bed. Even sober, Card was no real match for his larger roommate but in his inebriated state, the fight was over in less than two minutes. Card was still struggling underneath his roommate when Anders ripped off his own briefs and jammed them into Card’s mouth, muffling the smaller boy’s screams and protests. And there, on Card’s own bed, Anders raped his smaller teammate, destroying the boy’s asshole, turning it into his own personal fuck-cunt.

Anders kept fucking him the whole night. Or at least it seemed that way to Card, who passed out around three in the morning while Anders was plowing away at his hole for the third time only to wake up hours later just as his roommate’s creamed the boy’s aching pussy-hole yet again. By the time Anders finally yanked his cock out of the ruins of Card’s sodden asshole, it felt to the smaller boy like his roommate had fucked him with a blowtorch, his ass burned and hurt so much.

Card was lying on the bed utterly exhausted by the ordeal he’d just gone through. But even though he’d spent the better part of the night coring out Card’s no-longer-virgin boycunt, Anders didn’t seem tired in the least. Instead, he reached down and grabbed a shock of Card’s hair and yanked the boy to his feet. “Come with me, bitch,” he said imperiously, “we need to get you cleaned up.” The next thing Card knew, he was being pulled out of his dorm room and led, by his hair, into the dorm-suite’s showers. And there, as two of his suite-mates watched in stunned disbelief, Anders proceeded to shave Card’s ass, his pubes, and his pit-hair, explaining to the other two boys that, “I like my bitches nice and smooth where it matters.”

In retrospect, Card realized that then was the time he should have protested, should have told his suite-mates that Anders had forcibly raped him, that Card wasn’t a willing party to what was happening. But whether it was the shock of having been violently and repeatedly raped the night before or the sheer humiliation that overwhelmed him as his pubes and other body hair were publicly shaved off, Card failed to make any objection. It was therefore not surprising that when Anders, having finished shaving Card’s most private parts, proceeded to violently fuck the boy again, right in front of his two suite-mates, neither of them made any attempt to intervene even when Card began squealing and shrieking in pain. And when, after he had finished fucking Card, loudly screaming as he shot a fresh load of Man-cum up the teenager’s aching shitter, Anders pulled the boy by his hair back to their shared bedroom, it took less that five minutes for the rest of Card’s suite-mates to learn that Card was a faggot who was serving as his roommate’s fuck-bitch.

Anders kept Card naked, in their bedroom, for the rest of that first weekend. And when he wasn’t brutally fucking the boy’s ‘cunt,’ he was training the boy in his new role as the bigger boy’s fuck-whore. “The rules are simple, bitch,” Anders told him, “you do whatever I tell you to do and you do it without any hesitation or any backtalk. And understand, failure to do so will result in immediate and severe punishment. Do you understand, bitch?”

Card was kneeling before his roommate, a fresh load of Man-scuzz dripping out of his battered boy-bung. “Yes…yes, sir,” he replied, now terrified of his roommate, not wanting to do or say anything that might set him off. But all his meek acquiescence gained him was a sharp slap to his face. “You will address me as ‘Master Jackson,’ bitch, because that’s what I am – your Master.”

“Yes, Master,” Card quickly amended, his face flaring both from the slap and the profound humiliation he felt at his abject submission to the bigger boy. But even his immediate submission did not serve to keep Master Jackson from roughly hauling the boy over his lap and administering a brutal ass-spanking that left Card’s ass-cheeks a fiery red and left him sobbing just like any little boy who’d recently been punished for his misdeeds. And it was merely the first of many ass-thrashings that Card had to endure that first weekend.

And it wasn’t only Card’s ass that was the focal point for Master Jackson’s discipline. Card’s balls and cock – his boyvaries and boy-clit as he was instructed to call them – were squeezed, twisted, and pummeled so much that Card began to view them as merely a source of pain and agony rather than one of pleasure. But even the way Card’s boy-junk was manhandled paled when compared to the mistreatment his poor nipples – his boy-tits – suffered.

Card’s little nips had always been particularly sensitive and, sitting the way they did on Card’s well-developed pectorals, it wasn’t long that weekend before they came in for their own abuse at Master Jackson’s hands. And once his new Master discovered how sensitive they were to pain, they became his favorite way to inflict pain on his bitch, something he seemed to enjoy even more than fucking the boy. Master Jackson squeezed and twisted and pinched Card’s boy-tits mercilessly, bit them voraciously, adorned them with weighted alligator clips until Card was shrieking in agony. And when Card, almost insensate from the pain shooting throughout his body from his tortured boy-tits, was reduced to begging and pleading with his Master for mercy, Master Jackson would laugh at him and add more weights to the tit-clamps. And those hated tit-clamps were all Card was allowed to wear when, on Sunday afternoon, at his Master’s direction, the boy went door to door in his suite, telling his suite-mates to please feel free to fuck his ‘faggot cunt’ whenever they got the urge. Two did, right then and there, and it didn’t take more than a week later before all of his suite-mates had come round to routinely fucking Card’s pussy whenever they got the urge.

But if Master Jackson was definitely aroused by the pain he could inflict on his new bitch, he was even more excited by humiliating the boy, particularly when he could do so in public. Master Jackson forced Card to dress in the most revealing clothes for his classes – cut-off tank-tops that barely covered his perky and swollen boy-tits, shorts so tight they looked they had been sprayed on. And Card was never permitted to leave the apartment without wearing a stainless-steel chastity cage complete with a multi-balled butt-plug that forced him to groan in discomfort every time he sat down.

Master Jackson even made Card wear his chastity cage to wrestling practices, forcing Card to out himself as a pathetic fuck-bitch in front of all of his fellow-jocks. Card’s entire body was blushing a brilliant scarlet that first day as he lowered his shorts in the crowded locker room to reveal the metal cage encasing his boyhood and then, as he’d been instructed, go over to Master Jackson and ask his Master to ‘please remove my clit-cage so that I can put on my wrestling singlet.’ The initial round of shocked gasps from the other wrestlers soon gave way to derisive jeers and insults as Master Jackson unlocked the cage and removed it to expose not only Card’s pubeless groin but the large butt-plug that had been wedged up the boy’s fuck-twat. And when, a few seconds later, a large effusion of Master Jackson’s ball-scuzz began trickling past the boy’s swollen cunt-lips, absolute bedlam ensued. “Get that faggot out of here,” one teammate shouted while another, calling Card a ‘disgusting piece of homo-shit,’ literally spit on the boy’s face.

Card thought he’d die of shame the way they ragged on him, throwing one obscene epithet after another at him, and it wasn’t until two of the coaches came into the locker room that some semblance of order was restored. The coaches looked at Card with undisguised contempt, shaking their heads. Finally, Rock Stranger, the head wrestling coach, spoke up. “Get dressed, boy,” he roughly ordered Card, “we got a practice we need to get to. I’ll deal with you, later.”

It was a practice unlike any Card had ever experienced before. None of his opponents held back in the slightest and while most of them seemed to go out of their way to squeeze and molest his junk in ways that would never be permitted in an actual match, the coaches never called any of them on it. It wasn’t surprising, considering the constant mauling it was undergoing, that Card’s boy-clit was totally boned up during the entire practice, actually dribbling pre-cum that was staining the front of his singlet, which, of course, generated no end of slurs and caustic comments from his fellow-wrestlers. Card was sure the was going to be cut from the team and, by the time the practice ended, even he thought that might be the best resolution possible.

During the practice session, Card had noticed that Master Jackson in frequent conversation with Coach Stranger. He had no idea what was going on, though things became perfectly clear once the practice ended and they all trooped back into the locker room. Once they were all inside, Coach Stranger told the wrestlers to gather around him. When they did, the coach turned to Master Jackson and said, “go ahead, Anders, tell them what you’ve already told me.”

Master Jackson look around for a moment and then stared directly at Card. “Okay, bitch,” he ordered with a smirk, “strip.” His whole body once again flushing a bright red, Card did as directed, having already learned what failure to do exactly what his Master told him would result in. Card couldn’t believe how humiliating it was, stripping while everyone else snickered at him. And it didn’t help matters that his boy-clit was still fully erect. Once he was totally naked, he looked at Master Jackson and waited for his Master to continue forcing himself not to try to cover up his embarrassing erection, knowing that Master Jackson would be furious if he did so.

Master Jackson was grinning as he took in his bitch’s obvious embarrassment. Then, he turned to speak to his fellow wrestlers. “As most of you already know, I discovered this weekend that my roommate, Card Stevens, was a pathetic little faggot fuck-whore. I’d had practice dealing with fags before, so I knew exactly what to do – I fucked the living crap out of his faggot-pussy and started training him up to be a respectful faggot-bitch for Real Men to use and enjoy.”

At this point, Jackson Anders paused and looked around the room. “Now I know a lot of you have never fucked fag-pussy and some of you may be put off by the idea of it. But let me assure you that once you try it – and please feel free to fuck the bitch’s pussy whenever you want – you will enjoy it. As they say, a pussy is a pussy. And the thing about fag-pussy is that you don’t have to worry about the fag. You can fuck his pussy as hard as you want. And, if it hurts him, so what? He’s a fucking fag. Who gives a shit? I sure don’t. And you shouldn’t either. So please, all you guys, feel free to fuck my new bitch after every practice. Just like I’m gonna do right now.”

And with that, Master Jackson began shrugging off his singlet and in just seconds his big cock was buried balls-deep in Card’s still-sore boy-cunt, as Card squealed in renewed pain as the bigger boy began jackhammering his tender hole. By the time his Master had once again creamed his tortured cunt, a line of horny wrestlers had formed up behind him.

Over half his teammates fucked his pussy that first afternoon, and by the third practice session every one of Card’s teammate had tried out his ass-cunt at least once. They all pretty much still treated him like shit when they weren’t fucking him, which wasn’t surprising since that’s exactly how they treated him while they were fucking him. He wasn’t their teammate anymore – he was the team’s faggot fuck-bitch. And Card, who before had always looked forward to these practice sessions where he got to pit himself against his fellow wrestlers quickly learned to dread them.

But as bad as being bitched out to all of his teammates was, it wasn’t the worst thing Master Jackson did to Card. Not even close. Because as Master Jackson had discovered early on in his training of his fag-bitch, the one thing that Card hated the most was being forced to drink his Master’s pungent urine. At least when he was being used as the team’s cum-dump, Card could appreciate the sexual pleasure his teammates were experiencing as they pounded away at his boycunt. It was incredibly demeaning lying there as one dude after another jammed his cock up Card’s back-hole and used his pussy to get a nut, but Card could at least understand the pleasure they felt when they used him that way. But to serve as another dude’s urinal, his piss-hole, seemed to have no purpose other than to humiliate Card, to degrade him, to emphasize how far away from being a Real Man Card really was. The pleasure a man felt in pissing down Card;s throat didn’t come from his own sexual release but in Card’s total degradation and humiliation. There was nothing else that Master Jackson did to him that disgusted and embarrassed him nearly as much, nothing that Card hated more. And, unfortunately for Card, Master Jackson understood this. And so, sadist that he was, Master Jackson determined to turn Card into a groveling piss-bitch.

Twice every day, Card was required to crawl naked, as he always was kept in the suite, from room to room and beg his suite-mates to be allowed to drink their pee. The looks of shock and contempt that greeted this request the first time he was forced to make it made Card literally shake with humiliation, but that was nothing compared to the shame that overwhelmed him when one of his suite-mates took him up on the offer and peed down his throat, literally snorting his disdain as he did so. As the days passed, one by one, his suite-mates took him up on his offer and, in less than two weeks, he had become the urinal of choice for all of his suite-mates.

It wasn’t long after that that Master Jackson made Card drink his pee in front of all his fellow-wrestlers, laughingly telling them that he hadn’t used the porcelain urinal in his dorm suite in three weeks. “Why bother?” he asked rhetorically, “when I’ve got a human piss-hole right at hand to take care of it whenever I want? And all you guys,” he added as he zipped up, “should feel free to use the little whore the same way whenever you need to take a leak.” Within days, the wasn’t a single teammate who wasn’t routinely using Card’s mouth whenever he needed to take a piss during practice and, by the time any practice ended, Card’s belly would be visibly bulging out his singlet with all his teammates’ bladder-wastes.

But the worst of it all started a couple months later. Card knew something was up the moment Master Jackson returned from the post office carrying a large cardboard box. He recognized the gleam in his Master’s eye as something that always presaged some new humiliation that was about to be inflicted on him. And the moment his Master began removing items from the box, beginning with the large metallic funnel, Card understood what it would be used for.

Card knelt in front of Master Jackson, blushing furiously, as his Master affixed the metal contraption to Card’s head. It had been cunningly designed to keep his head in an upright position that forced Card to look straight up at the funnel that led directly down to his mouth. And as Card watched in humiliated horror, no sooner had Master Jackson fitted the gag firmly over his mouth than he unzipped his pants and proceeded to aim a torrent of his rancid pee into the funnel and down into Card;s frantically gulping throat. The disgusting taste of his Master’s piss was still permeating his mouth when Master Jackson ordered Card to make the rounds of their suite so that their suite-mates might have their own opportunity to try out Card’s new piss-gag.

Card had been serving as his dorm suite’s piss-hole for a couple of months now, but even though he couldn’t even estimate how many gallons of his suite-mates’ piss he’d downed during that time, he still found it repulsively demeaning every time he did it. And his new piss-gag seemed to make it somehow even worse. It made Card feel not merely that he was serving as a urinal but that he actually WAS a urinal, that being their human piss-hole now defined him even more than being their faggot cum-dump. Before, as a practical matter, Card had served each of his suite-mates as a piss-pit individually, kneeling before each boy as he emptied his bladder into him. It was disgusting and demeaning to be sure, but there was still an element of a personal relationship to the act. But the funnel at the top of his piss-gag allowed multiple boys to simultaneously pee into it. And that’s exactly what they did – two or three boys standing up and pissing together into the funnel, laughing with each other, enjoying the bonding experience of mingling their piss into the same hole, while Card just knelt there almost ignored, desperately swallowing as fast as he could, watching his fellow suite-mates enjoy an experience that seemed to exclude him even though he was literally at the center of it. It made serving as their collective piss-hole more dehumanizing than it had ever been before.

But it wasn’t until that weekend that Master Jackson truly unveiled the full depths of the degradation he had planned for the boy. Card knew something special was up when Master Jackson fitted his thighs and calves with multiple metal straps and then affixed his ornate metal cock-cage/butt plug onto his boy-clit and up his pussy. From past experience, this only happened when Master Jackson was taking him to a wrestling team party, where he would serve as the group’s entertainment. When Master Jackson ordered him to bring the box containing the piss-gag with him, Card’s heart sank since he was sure that this meant that all of his fellow wrestlers would be using him as a urinal the same way his suite-mates now did – with the piss-gag fixed firmly on his head and in his mouth.

But it wasn’t a party Master Jackson was taking him to, it was The Last Stop, the most notorious gay leather bar in town. Just walking into that bar was an agony of embarrassment for Card, dressed the way he was. Heads turned, wolf-whistles and catcalls greeted him as he followed his Master into the back bar, barefoot and naked except for his metal cock-cage and the metal straps around his thighs and calves. Master Jackson walked right up to another man who was standing behind the bar.

“This is the bitch I told you about,” he said.

The dude looked Card over and then just shook his head. “I never would have figured a boy like him would be a piss-queen, but I guess it takes all types. Okay, get him set up in the bathroom. Just remember, he cleans up any mess that he’s made at the end of the night.”

“No problem,” Master Jackson replied. Then, turning to Card, he said, “C’mon, bitch. Let’s get you ready to show all these Real Men what you’re really good for,” and then headed off towards the bathroom, leaving Card to follow behind.

Once inside the bathroom, Master Jackson directed Card to kneel between the two urinals. Then he took the box from the boy and began fastening the piss-gag onto the boy’s head. “Oh, please, Master, please,” Card started begging. “Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Please, Master, I’m begging you.” But Master Jackson just ignored Card’s plaintive pleas and they were soon cut off as the gag was jammed into his mouth. Once the gag was properly in place, Master Jackson ordered Card to sit his naked ass down on the floor and to spread his legs apart, blocking access to the other two urinals. That way, bar patrons would have no choice but to use his funnel when they needed to relieve their bladders.

“You’re here for the duration, bitch,” Master Jackson advised as he unzipped his pants and began whizzing into Card’s piss-funnel. “And remember, any mess you make, you’re gonna be cleaning up.” Card was still gulping down his Master’s accumulated piss when the Man zipped up and headed towards the door. “Have fun, bitch,” Master Jackson sarcastically added, as walked out.

Master Jackson hadn’t been gone thirty seconds before the door banged open and in walked a biker wanting to take a piss. “Holy Fuck!” he exclaimed when he saw Card on the floor with the funnel from the piss-gag sticking into the air. He looked around for a few seconds, uncertain as to how to proceed, but finally just shrugged his shoulders and walked up to Card, pulled his cock out and started pissing. “Drink up, faggot,” he sneered, as Card began swallowing convulsively. The biker hadn’t even finished washing his hands before he was joined by another patron.

“Motherfuck!” the new man exclaimed as he took in the sight of Card, naked except for his cock-cage, on the floor. “What the fuck’s going on?”

The biker at the sink, chuckled loudly. ‘Looks like we got ourselves a human piss-hole for the night.”

“God,” the second dude replied, “that’s disgusting. What type of sick pervert would want to spend the night downing other dudes’ stinking pee?”

“One sick motherfucker, you can count on that, bro,” the biker opined. “But, I figured, if that’s what floats his boat, that’s his problem. There’s a lot of really twisted pervs in this world. He’s a good looking dude, but who knows what else he’s into. Probably eats shit, too, sick motherfucker. But I figured. when you gotta piss, you gotta piss so I gave the little bitch just what he wanted – a hot load of my bladder juice.”

“Well, he’s welcome to mine, too,” the second dude said, walking forward and unzipping. “I gotta piss something fierce.” And with that he started whizzing away into the funnel leaving Card with no choice but to swallow as fast as he could. And even before he’d flicked off the last few drops into the funnel, yet another dude came into the room wanting to take a piss. “What the fuck,” the new dude muttered as the guy who had just finished peeing down Card’s throat turned to explain things to him.

And so it went for the first couple hours as Card sat there naked on the bathroom floor. Dude after dude would come through the door, express his surprise, and then his contempt, and then use Card for the obvious purpose that he was there – as a human urinal. For Card, it was an unending nightmare of abject humiliation as he had to listen to all their exclamations of surprise, contempt, and disgust and then still had to swallow their stinking pee, thereby seemingly validating every vile thing they’d said about him.

And, as time went on, things only got worse. It was bad enough when he looked up and realized that a dude was peeing into his mouth for a second and then a third and fourth time, but what was even more embarrassing was when, as happened on a number of occasions, Card recognized the dude pissing into him from one of his classes – and the dude recognized him, too. Knowing the way the news spread on twitter and other sites, Card realized that virtually all of his classmates would have heard about the disgusting display Card had put on in the bathroom of The Last Stop before he even made it out of the bar.

Roughly two hours after Card had started serving as the bar’s urinal, he reached the point that he’d been fearing from the very beginning. His belly was bulging, the multiple loads of piss that he’d down obscuring his abs, his stomach extending so far forward that it protruded well beyond his pecs, the need for him to piss almost unbearable. The breaking point came when three dudes joined in filling his piss-funnel to the very top. Card’s control over his own bladder finally gave way and he began pissing himself on the floor, to their raucous amusement and his own excruciating humiliation. Card pissed himself a good five minutes and, by the time he finished, he was not only guzzling down other dudes’ pee, he was sitting in his own.

From that point on, Card pretty much lost all control over his own bladder and he was pissing himself constantly throughout the rest of the night. By the time the bar closed at 3:00 a.m., nearly half of the bathroom floor was covered with Card’s recycled piss. When Master Jackson finally came in to collect him, Card knew he stank exactly like you’d expect a urinal to.

“You have fun, bitch?” Master Jackson asked contemptuously as he finally took off the piss-gag that Card had been wearing for the last six hours.

Card just stared at his Master, all the accumulated humiliations of his long evening forcing tears to his eyes. But when Master Jackson raised an eyebrow in a way that Card had learned to fear, Card knew what he had to do. “Yes, Master Jackson,” he replied. “Thank you, Master.” Just saying those words, thanking his Master for inflicting upon him the worst night of his entire life, crushed any last remnant of manhood that Card had somehow managed to retain through all the other degradations he had endured.

A huge smile lit up Master Jackson’s face. “I’m glad to hear that, bitch, cause you were a real hit tonight – everybody was talking about the piss-bitch in the bathroom. So much so that they’ve asked us to come back tomorrow night. And,” Master Jackson continued, the raw humor making his voice almost cackle, “assuming things go as well, you’re gonna be a permanent weekend fixture here from now on. Isn’t that great, bitch? Isn’t that great?”

Card didn’t want to cry in front of Master Jackson – he knew how much his Master enjoyed making his bitch cry like a little boy. But Card couldn’t help himself and the tears just started cascading down his face. Yet even as he was audibly sobbing Card forced himself to respond, “Yes, Master. That’s great, Master.”

His triumph now total, Master Jackson’s grin grew even bigger. “Okay, bitch. Now you need to get his place clean. And you know exactly how a bitch cleans up a mess he’s made – with his tongue. So get slurping, bitch. Get slurping right now.”

And as Card knelt down and began slurping his own recycled bladder wastes from the bathroom floor of a seedy bar, the tears kept flowing uncontrollably. He was a piss-bitch now. A human urinal. That was the life that now awaited him. And even with everything else that had already happened to him, Card couldn’t imagine a worse fate.

The Long Denial

It has been, a frustrating week to say the least. When James suggested that he should try chastity play with you it was initially enjoyable. A few hours in it and being on edge during that entire time was a new experience and having James there to be there and provide constant company and light teasing.

It was awkward to admit but that time caged up did make the orgasm much more… powerful at the end of the session. In a moment of weakness and post orgasm joy Jamie was able to pressure you to accept putting the cage back on afterwards and told you that he could not wait to ‘unwrap’ you in a few days from now.‘No big deal’ you thought to yourself. Having a big orgasm like that usually keeps you satisfied for a good long while.

Boy were you wrong. Even as you saw James leave with your key twirling around his finger you felt a pang of anticipation and a stir from within your pants.

Waking up the next day and showering was difficult, constantly feeling the slight weight of the chastity cage keeping your cock in place, pulling it down slightly and being reminded of last night’s experience really got your drive going strong. Despite your best attempts the chastity cage was securely locked on and stopped you from properly touching your dick and getting it fully erect. After an unfulfilled shower you get out to towel down and begin your day at work.

The constant reminder of having the metal cage not only locked around you but kept hidden under your work clothes for the entire day at work was quite an experience in denied edging and frustration. James had practice that Monday night, leaving you alone with yourself that night. It was rough to stay idle and NOT to do the thing you were explicitly denied to do.

The next day you dragged through your shift and tried to find James as soon as you could, but it looked like he was way too occupied with other people for you to approach him. Despite your cock straining against the cage since you first caught the sight of him. The idea of approaching him in public, alluding to your chastity cage, in front of other people was too much for you. With that your own modesty and embarrassment overpowered your longing to be free you dip out and turn to leave with your cock practically pleading with you to go back.

The week kept going, things increasingly more sensitive to you and your only option is to message your cock throughout the day, which ended up with you resigning to constantly squeezing your thighs together, trying your best to stimulate yourself to completion. You even caught yourself subconsciously continuing to carry out that rhythmic squirming as you were at job. Even the slightly thought of James had you pressed against the cage, constantly leaking pre to the point where you had to excuse yourself at work multiple times to dry your underpants off.

James had another scheduled appointment so there was no way to get him to remove it, and there was no way that he had the key on him during working hours. Either way you are resigned for another night alone. Against your best higher thinking, you started to surf the web for your favorite porn. When met with frustration that your even your favorite genre wasn’t enough to get you off, which was a fool’s hope to begin with, you wandered over to the niche chastity cage smut.

One part out of rejected frustration and one part just to see the faces of relief on those poor souls faces and the purposeful closeups of their money shots. Even by your standards these cum shots were incredibly impressive in volume and distance. As your own dick keeps grinding against the rigid metal cage you can’t help but wonder how voluminous your own load was going to be, you call it quits on your naughty nighttime viewing because you were seeping through your underpants again.

Almost by a miracle, you get a notification on your phone. A text message from James, “I know you must be pent up. This Friday you’ll go free, at my place :)” With that two lines of text gave you a spark of joy, hope and horniness.

Work was more manageable this Friday, save for the time you caught yourself wandering too much later tonight made you painfully aware of your cage and ended up getting too riled up and you needed to take a few deep breaths to recenter yourself to the present, ‘just a few more hours’ you repeat to yourself.

Soon enough, finally it was the end of your shift. As you clock out, on cue you get a text message from James just saying ‘cum right on over’. You rush to his place, seeping with pre to the point where it starts soaking through your underpants to leave a small but still noticeable spot on your pants. Almost barging through his front door you see James on the coach in the living room sitting with his most confident and cocky expression on his face, “Oh… a little eager today aren’t we?”

Knowing a split second too late that you walked, no ran, directly into this trap you let out a weak and meek, “y-yea, it’s been rough without you unlocking it-” “unlocking What?” James cuts in. “The chastity cage” you respond, feeling the words being pulled from your lips as it was met with a glint from Jame’s eyes. “Yes, your Chastity Cage. Remind me, what does it look like again?” With that your hands, almost on their own, started moving down your sides to pull down your pants and underpants to show him your little prison.

“Oh boy, you’re leaking something fierce. tell me, how much would you want it taken off?” has he took that small silver key out of his pocket and started turning it around within his fingers. See the literal key to your relief so close within your grasp you let out a more than earnest answer, that you weren’t 100% willing to admit, “I would do anything to get this cage off of me” If you weren’t right in he wanted when you barge in, you were now with that answer.

“Well, you know nobody gets anything for nothing, you got to work for your freedom.” as James clasped the key with one of his hands as the other hand went down to unbutton his pants and in on swift motion, his semi-hard cock flopped over the top of his underpants’s waist band.

It might have been your heightened sex drive, your own humiliation or just the way that cock looks in the light but you lick your lips and you helplessly make your way to the sofa. Bending down at the knees, you start move in to kiss the tip of dick before you make your way up and down the sides before you open up and start suckling away with pent up vigor. That desperation must have been obvious to James, after his initial gasp of appreciation he starts to compliment you as he places his hand right on the top of your head for a compassionate tousle of the hair. “Fuck man, you must really want it with mouth actions like that. Don’t fret, you’re going to get what you want by the end of the night, just keep going” With that promise uttered it revs your enthusiasm and your cock begins to start throbbing within it’s confined space. You start pulling out all the fancy mouth tricks to get him to climax as fast as you can. Soon enough, soon after you feel James hand start pushing the back of your head deeper into him, trapping you in place as he empty his load to the back of your mouth, right down your throat.

Keeping you in place for just an extra half moment longer, you feel his hand start to lessen as you are given the permission to remove your head from his groin. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand you move your eyes upwards towards James to see James look satisfied, looking down on you. “Fuck, dude. That was the greatest Blowjob you ever gave me, bravo… bravo” That little bit of candid compliment caught you off guard as you blush and let out a small, “no problem..” James then responded with a “no, take that as a pride and true compliment, you knocked the wind right out of my sails. In fact, you knocked me right off my feet so much that I’m going to need a moment to recover. That’s not too much to ask of you is it?” James says with masked sincerity as he flashed your silver key in the light of the living room. “n-no…no, i can wait a bit more” you quietly squeak out before you see the key disappear deep within Jame’s pants pocket. With nothing better to do you hang out at James place, as he feigns exhaustion as he asks you to sit on the coach with him to watch some evening T.V. You dare not make a comment of the situation, least coming across as more pathetic, or worse, having James call off his promise all together.

Show after Show airs and is watched as the evening become night, then late into the night. The clock soon struck 11:30pm when finally, James got up and said, “alright dude, you’ve waited enough. Time to make good on my promise and get you out of that cage.” as he fished in his pocket for that beloved little key as he beckons you to his room. With a wave of relief you bounce up form the sofa and eagerly follow him to the bedroom. James shoves you on the bed and slowly begins to fondle your cage self as toys with you, by pushing the key in and turning it ever so slowly.

Soon enough you hear the *click* of the cage as you feel the weight of the cage fall off of you. Your cock begins to stretch and expand for the first time in over a week. If that wasn’t pleasure enough you felt the hands of Jams begin to run their way up and down your shaft, greeted with an uncontrolled moan from you. It didn’t take long for him to get a nice rhythm going and not that far from that before you let loose everything you’ve been locked up. As loads and loads erupted from you shooting out over your stomach and overflowing from your cock. It was by far one of the best orgasms of your life and at that moment you knew that those porn actors weren’t faking it in the slightest.

With a series of deep deep breaths you take this time to cherish this moment of bliss and to compose yourself with the quickly cooling cum that covered you. As you were able to doze of to sleep right there and then you hear a familiar *click* as the weight of the chastity cage returns to your groin as you see James comes close to delivering a kiss on your forehead and a “good night, sweet dream”.

I Had No Idea

Slave Chained with Collar

Let me begin this story with a simple statement, “I had no idea what I was getting myself into.” Yes, that may seem like a strange way to start but let me try and explain to you what I mean. I am (or perhaps was) a normal 19-year-old just graduating high school and trying to decide where to go with my life. I had already decided that I wanted a break before college. At least a year to get my head together. My best friend Rick and I had been in a b/d relationship for about 2 years. He was the Top as I loved to be tied up and dominated by him. Just the thought of being in bondage turned me on. The longer and tighter the better. I have a good body for bondage. I had been on the swim team for all of my high school years. This has given me a well toned but not overly muscular body. I stand 5’7″ and weigh 150lbs. Broad chest tapering down to a narrow waist. Rick tells me I have a beautiful physique. The only real body hair I have is a treasure trail that drops invitingly from my navel down to my crotch. As a swimmer I had always kept the hair on my legs and crotch trimmed so my speedos would look better. I must add here that I am amply endowed with a 8 inch cock that swells to a full 10 inches when I am turned on. My balls are large and hang low so believe me I really fill a speedo!

Rick is taller and heavier built than me. He has always been a weight lifter so he has an incredible, powerful body. He stands just over 6′ 1″ and when he looks down at me I just melt. He is a year older than me and has always been by best friend, big brother, and finally my lover and bondage Top.

Because he is a year older he graduated a year ahead of me. His parents had already decided he could wait a year before starting college. As my parents traveled a lot for work I basically moved in with him the last year. I finished high school and he worked part time. Investing his money in lots of bondage toys. We had some but by the end of that year we had everything. The rest of the time I was his bondage slave. Over that year he got better and better at making me into a real bondage slave. The more he gave me the more I wanted. As much as I would love to tell you all about that year I promised I would explain my opening line. As soon as I graduated high school Rick sat me down one night (perhaps sat down isn’t the right word. I was tied down actually) and presented me with his idea for the next year before I started college. He was starting college in a couple of months and for both of us the idea of his being away was just not acceptable. His parents were renting him an apartment off campus and he wanted me to come with him. I could have my year off and then start college. I was excited as I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from him. However, he had a little catch to the arrangement. He pulled out what he explained to me was a Master/slave contract. He gagged me so I couldn’t interrupt him and then preceded to read it to me. As I listened I got excited but scared all at the same time. In it he proposed to make me a 24/7 bondage slave for the next 13 months. I would during that time always be in bondage, period. The only time I would have my hands free was when he was changing restraints. He would provide all my needs and care for me. But I would be his to use as he wanted.

Now I loved to be tied up, the longer the better. Our present record was 7 days over a holiday. During which time Rick had given me breaks. But the idea of being bound for 13 months actually scared me. Rick removed my gag and gave me a long sensual kiss. “I am going to leave you here to think about it. I will be back in awhile and I expect an answer.” With that he left. My mind raced a million miles an hour. I wanted this I realized. I was getting turned on just thinking about it. What better way to spend my year break than doing what I loved most with the man I loved most. I knew my answer long before Rick returned. He would probably be able to tell just by looking at my cock standing hard at attention. I was going to do it! At least it seemed like a great idea at the time, but I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

That pretty well sets the stage. So let’s come forward to the present. It has been 7 months since we moved into the apartment. 7 long months since I signed the contract and completely surrendered my freedom. Rick made me strip and kneel at his feet that night while I signed my name on the slave’s signature line. He walked behind me and placed a leather collar around my neck and locked it on. He attached a strap to it that hung down my back. Placed locking leather cuffs on my wrists and pulled them behind me attaching them in the middle of my back to the strap. Since that moment my hands have not been free at anytime accept while he changes restraints. Rick made me stand at attention and he slowly ran his hands over my body. His strength and look of total possession made my cock bounce to attention. “Are you going to miss getting to touch this?” He asked as he stroked my erect cock. “I can’t even imagine 13 months without getting to touch my cock. But trust me your hands will not be able to come anywhere near yours. You really are mine slave. (That was the first time he had called me that) For 13 months your body belongs to me. We are going to have fun.” Rick actually scared me with the look he had on his face. It finally hit me what I had committed myself to. Was I crazy, 13 months?

I opened my mouth to speak but Rick slapped my face. “A slave only speaks when given permission to. I have not given you permission.” With that he grabbed a leather gag and strapped it on, locking it in place. He made me stand there while he read our contract to me again. Pointing out every word. He reminded me that I had surrendered myself body and soul to him. He looked into my eyes and told me how much he loved me. The love in his eyes told me he really meant it. But he said this wasn’t some game. He fully intended to make me live up to our contract. He also said that he expected me to make him proud because he knew I loved him. To cement our new relationship he bent me over the coffee and proceeded to paddle my ass. He had only done this twice before in our entire relationship. However, in the months to come it certainly wasn’t to be the last. When he finished he told me he was going to show me my bedroom. I had assumed we would be sleeping together as we always had. But Rick led me into the second bedroom where we had set up his exercise equipment and our desk. We had earlier put our bondage toys in the walk in closet. Unbeknownst to me Rick had made some other improvements to the closet which was to become my room unless he wanted me in bed with him. He had hung all our things on one wall or had placed them on the shelves. On the other two walls he had found the studs and placed rings into them at various heights. In one corner he had placed a dog dish with water in it. Next to it was a small pillow and a blanket. I looked at them realizing that they were mine. God, what had I gotten myself into?

“Let’s get you ready for bed,” he said and lead me into the bathroom. He held my cock while I pissed. He also informed me I had better shit if I needed to as I wouldn’t be loose for awhile. He helped me sit on the toilet. When I was finished he wiped my ass. Never before in our bondage play had he done this. He had always let me loose when I needed to shit. “slave,” he said, “believe me I don’t enjoy this but as your hands are staying put where they are I really don’t have a choice.” My god, to think that I was going to have to rely on someone for the most basic bodily function. The thought scared me half to death.

Rick led me back to what was to be my room. He made me kneel on the floor and told me he was going to rebind my arms and I was to not attempt in any way to move them. Simply leave them where they were until he reached for them. He got a new toy we had not tried out yet. It was a full arm leather binder. It had a collar for my neck and then it laid down the length of my back. It allowed my arms to be laced tightly inside. He released my arms from where they were behind my back. As ordered I did not move them. He put the binder on me then moved my arms inside. He left my wrists locked together with the leather cuffs. He then began to lace the binder up. He lowered me onto my stomach so he could get better leverage to insure he got it as tight as possible. As my shoulders and elbows slowly came more and more together I realized this binder was going to be a very intense experience. Rick laced and pulled until I felt he was going to pull my arms out of the sockets. He felt around and realized he had the binder to tight and let the lacing off just a bit. He tied it firmly in place and then had me raise my ass up in the air. He inserted a butt plug the pulled my back to my knees then my feet. He helped me step into a pair of leather chastity shorts. He locked them at the waist and each thigh. Rick patted my leather covered dick and said, “Poor baby not attention tonight. However, just because you aren’t getting any doesn’t mean I can’t.” He made me kneel and removed my gag. He made me open his pants with my teeth and suck him until he cam. “Good boy,” he said as I slid the gag back into my mouth. He laid me out flat on my stomach on the floor. Grabbed a leg spreader and strapped my feet into it. He then attached it to a ring in the wall so I couldn’t move around during the night. He put the pillow under my head and covered me with the blanket. “Good night slave, sleep tight,” was the last thing I heard him say before he closed the door and turned off the light. As I laid there in the dark, all alone, I couldn’t help but think, what had I gotten myself into.

That was only the first night of a very long 7 months. 7 months into our contract I still am wondering what I got myself into. For 7 months my hands have been locked behind my back except for 3 short times each week when Rick chains them to his exercise machine for my workout. He likes my hard body and makes sure it stays that way. Most of the exercises still allow him to keep my hands locked behind me. But for the weight lifts he locks my hands to the weight bar. 15 minutes, 3 times a week are the only time I have seen my hands in 7 months. Rick showers my every other day. He says I really don’t do anything to get dirty. He uses metal handcuffs for that. He gets in the shower with me and lovingly washes my body. At the same time he shaves me from the waist down. The first time in the shower he decided I would look better with no pubic hair. I have to admit being shaved makes my cock and balls look even bigger than they are.

My cock and balls? For 7 months I have not touched them. I can look down my body at them, but the thought of being able to actually touch them sends shivers through my body. Perhaps that is because Rick touches them as little as possible. He only touches them when he washes and shaves them in the shower. Or when he is putting some sort of bondage device on them. Or hanging weights on my balls. Or using the new whip he purchased on them. Or applying clothes pins to them. Or dropping hot wax on them. Other than that they might as well not even exist. If he would even play with them once in awhile. Stroke them and caress them like he used to. But he simply ignores my hard cock and full balls. He tells me, though, that he likes me horny as it turns him on. And god is he turned on almost all the time. Obviously having me as his bondage slave keeps him in a constant state of arousal. I know it does me. He however gets to cum when ever he pleases. Sometimes it is mastrabating himself while he watches me struggle in an exceptionally stringent bondage position. But usually it is either in my hot eager mouth our my hot eager ass. In his defense I must add that he does allow me to cum every 2 weeks. How he arrived at that number I don’t know but I do know when he does let me cum it is not satisfying. He simply jacks me off. We used to have great sex. Now he gets great sex and I get quickly jacked off and I know I have another long 2 weeks to wait all over again. Going from almost daily to once every 2 weeks. My god I just didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I will admit that my constant state of arousal has the effect Rick desired. All I think about is him. How to make him happy. Am I pleasing him enough. Without him I would have no purpose in life. But then again without him I couldn’t even wipe my own ass right now, could I. A simple thing like putting a glass to your lips, how we take that for granted. Try going 7 months lapping water out of bowl, with no use of your hands. But, Rick is happy. He loves me. I want nothing anymore but to make him happy. I love him.

Sorry, I am digressing here. Last month I begged Rick to be allowed to use the computer during the day while he is in class. I needed something, I told him, or I was going to go crazy. I wanted to write down my experiences. He finally agreed and started giving me access to the computer, if you can call it that. The first day before he left for class he walked me over to the desk. I assumed he would perhaps cuff my hands in front of me so I could use the key board. Was I wrong! He had moved the key board and monitor onto the floor. He made me lay down on the floor and proceeded to hog tie me. He then put a gag in my mouth to which he had attached a small plastic piece that looked like a stub of a pencil. Rick showed me that by lifting my head up and holding it in a very uncomfortable position I could tap the keys on the keyboard with the plastic piece on my gag. He made me try it and I swear it took me 5 minutes to write my first sentence. But it was at least a start. I could type for a few minutes and then lay my head down to relax the muscles. He gave me a word count I was accomplish that first day. I was also required to be letter perfect in my spelling. Needless to say I did not do it. Rick made sure I was punished. The second day despite my aching ass I still didn’t make the required word count. Did he punish me? Let me just say that it was a Friday and he punished me ALL weekend. Believe me, Monday I made my required word count. In fact I did so well Rick decided to make it harder. He told me he likes an excuse to punish me. As I write this he has me tied in such a way that to reach the keyboard and hit a letter I must pull my balls until they feel like they are going to pull off. But, Rick has also informed that as this my night to cum if I fail to complete this story I will wait another 2 weeks. What a dilemma. Do I want my balls to ache from being yanked at all day long, or ache from being so full of cum they want to explode? Also knowing Rick if I fail I will be punished and he is getting more and more creative in hurting my body. My god I still have 6 months to go before our contract is up. I have written so much already, but Rick said he will decide what will go to the internet as my story. For all I know he will send a 10th of it if even that. All the work and pain I have put in to write this and knowing him no one will read but a 10th of my story he has made me tell.

Dear god, I hear Rick. He is home early! I can’t possibly finish my quota. It is a 2 week school holiday. Dear god 2 weeks to punish me for not doing as he expects. God am I fucked. Please help me——