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.

Forever

A permanent commitment is a very serious one. I need to trust that if you are making such a commitment, that you will be doing everything in your power to ensure that I will never again be a free man. I would hope that, should you become unwilling or unable to keep me as your slave in the future, that you would attempt to make other arrangements to ensure that I remain the property of a suitable master for the rest of my life.

A permanent arrangement assumes that I will become your property for the rest of my life, in other words, forever. I can only make that sort of commitment if I am sure that all reasonable efforts are made to ensure that it forever truly means forever.

While it’s a lot to read, there’s a story on this site which has inspired me. It’s about a guy becoming a permanent slave, and you can tell that from day one, he knew that his commitment truly was forever, that he would never escape.

For me to feel like I’ve become a permanent slave to you, I would like you to take all reasonable steps to ensure that if something is meant to be permanent, that it feels permanent. An example is the collar that you lock on me at the beginning of our commitment.

It’s my dream to have a collar permanently attached to my neck. There’s a company that makes a permanent collar, but it’s also possible to rivet, weld, solder, or even use a bit of JB Weld to close most collars permanently.

The Only Requirement To Make Me Your Slave Forever

While I’m laying out on these pages some of the things I HOPE will happen, there is only one requirement that I have (other than what appears on the limits page). If you desire to make me your slave for the rest of your life, you will ensure that the collar placed around my neck is permanently attached. While we might not start with a metal collar on day one, we can make it a top priority to obtain one.

With most non permanent collars, you could simply cut the lock to remove it, if it’s permanently attached, it can’t be removed, not by me and not by anyone else.  It’s there forever. Because it’s permanently attached, my mental need to feel that it is there forever is satisfied because it truly is.

My Fears

My biggest fear in this whole thing is that at some point in the future, a situation will occur in which you are unable to keep me as your slave, and I will be sent out into the world with no resources, or worse yet, starve to death because you died in a car accident or something.

That is not to say that I fear dying in this situation. If I agree to give you complete control for the rest of my life, that assumes that at some point (hopefully many many years from now) I will eventually die.  With the example of the collar above, I know that if it is permanently attached, that I will die wearing it. Without trying to sound morbid, I look forward to that day, as it tells me I truly gave my entire life to you.

I realize that I could potentially live another 50+ years, and that that is a big commitment to make. I would ask that shortly after you have taken permanent control of my life that you begin to make some contingency plans in case of emergencies.

From the moment the collar is attached to my neck  I am literally and figuratively handing over control of my life. I ask that, if some day in the future, perhaps 10 years from now, you find yourself in a situation where you need to end our relationship, that you make every reasonable effort to sell or give me to another suitable master.

Some things I would hope become permanent

While I only truly ask that my collar become a permanent attachment to my body, there are a few other things that you may consider doing at some point in the  future. Again, these things are optional, but are things I would truly like you to consider.

Another story which has inspired me greatly is the story where the main character becomes a human urinal and is locked into that role for the rest of his life. While it may be unfeasible for the actual act of being a urinal to be a 24/7/365 arrangement due to health issues, There is no reason that, like the main character, the doors on the cage are closed forever.  The cage doors could be sealed in much the same way that the collar would be sealed around my neck. If the doors were welded closed, I would know that I was locked inside forever. With the appropriate cage, there should be no issues.

The final issue is one which MAY be a bad idea, perhaps better left in fantasy, but it’s something I’ve fantasized about for well over 25 years.  When you make the decision to make my slavery permanent, with no possible means of escape, I would like you to consider forever taking away my ability to cum at the same time. This can be accomplished by permanently attaching a chastity belt in a way it can never be removed, or through simple castration (I have the tools required).  The first keeps me horny for the rest of my life, the second removes my sex drive. You may have other reasons for NOT fulfilling this request, but forever taking away my ability to come gives you complete control over me physically and mentally.

A Story of a Rubber Slave’s Forced Training

I followed Alan down the steps into the dungeon. We both wore jeans and t-shirts and I began to feel nervous as I saw the various rubber suits and restraints hanging from the walls, and the cage and sling and rubber bed in the semi-darkness of the room.

“This is where you’ll live for the next month or so – or however long it takes me to train you as my rubber man” he said slowly and deliberately.

I was beginning to have misgivings. Should I have really signed that piece of paper that gave him complete control over my body and mind? Would there be any way of going back on it if things became too hard?

“Take off your clothes” he said.

I pulled off the t-shirt and jeans and sneakers and he put them in a cardboard box.

“You won’t be needing them for a long, long time” he said with a grin, “so I’ll keep them for you.”

I could tell from that grin that he was getting off on the power I’d given him. I’d always begged him to completely strip me of my identity and to make me serve him as a total rubber man. Now I was going to find out what it would be like.

I stood there naked in front of him – not cold though, as the dungeon seemed comfortably warm. He gave my semi-hard cock a gentle tug and his grin disappeared.

“Get into the gear I’ve laid out for you,” he said, pointing at a pile of folded rubbers on a table at the side of the dungeon, “and wait for your master.”

With that he turned and carried the box up the stairs and shut the heavy door behind him.

I walked over to the table and unfolded the rubbers. There was a suit with an all-round zip, a pair of gloves and a hood with eye-holes and a zip mouth. I pulled on the suit, already feeling turned on by the soft, clinging feeling. Then I slipped the hood on, zipping it tightly down the back of my head and fastening the collar. Finally I stretched the gloves back up my forearms.

I knelt down on the floor with my hands behind my back and waited for Alan to return.

I waited for ages. It seemed like over an hour, though it was difficult to tell in the warm silence of the room. I began to feel the moistness of sweat in my gloves and from the warm breath inside the hood.

Still I waited. I wanted to feel my cock – now hot and very hard – through the rubber. But I knew I mustn’t.

Then I heard the door. I heard the slow footsteps on the stairs. I didn’t look up. I knew he’d want me to be completely subservient and that was the best way I could think of showing it right then.

I saw his boots on the floor in front of me: gleaming, tall, rubber riding boots that almost reached his knees and the rubber jeans that came out of the top of them.

“Look up at me, slave.”

I looked up and saw him. My beautiful rubber master. My perfect rubber master. Tucked into his jeans was a shiny, tight rubber t-shirt and over that was a rubber biker jacket. His eyes gleamed lovingly – yet almost viciously down at mine – and his face was completely without expression.

“Have you anything to say, slave?”

“I love you master.”

“How much?”

“More than anything in the world master.”

“Will you let me do anything I want to you?”

“Yes master.”

“Whether it’s to turn me on, to service me, or even just because I get a kick out of it?”

“Yes master.”

He paused. As I looked at him he stared back and unzipped the mouth of my hood. It was only then that I noticed he was wearing tight rubber gloves too. He pushed one of them into my mouth – a couple of fingers first – and then nearly the whole fist till I almost gagged on it. But I just sucked on it for all I was worth. Tasting the strange taste of the rubber and loving the fact that he was already – in a small way – inside me.

With his other hand he unzipped the jeans and pulled out his big, hard cock. The end gleamed with pre-cum and he slowly pulled my hood onto it. It filled my mouth. It tasted beautiful. I worshiped it with my tongue and my lips.

As I played with it, my face being pressed hard into his shiny jeans by him, he began to speak.

“I am going to change you from the half-decent slave you are into my complete rubber slave. You will be perfect by the time I’ve finished training you. You will have no life, no face, no personality – but you will be perfect. You will live here in the dungeon encased in rubber and you will exist to serve my cock, to take my piss and to do anything that turns me on, no matter how degrading. I will dress you in whatever rubber gear I want – as many layers of it as I want – and you will be sealed into it, completely turned on by it and by your discomfort and you will be unable to do anything about it.”

I sucked harder on his gorgeous cock. It was getting harder (just as mine was) as he talked and thought about what he could do to me and I wanted it to just explode and fill my throat with white hot spunk.

Then he pulled my head away from it and pointed my face up towards his.

“Understand slave?”

“Yes master.”

He attached a leash to the collar on my hood and pushed me down onto all fours. I followed him as he showed me round the dungeon. First he pointed to the sling with loads of restraints and chain and rope hanging off it.

“I will fuck you in this sling. I will keep you restrained in it. I will lay back in it and have you rim me and suck me off in it.”

Then he pointed at restraints hanging from the beams and coming out the walls by the floor.

“I will fix you in these and use you as I want. I will leave you stuck in them for hours while I go clubbing and I will fuck you senseless in them when I get back”

He looked down at me, smiling wickedly. Then he pointed to the bed with the rubber sheets on it.

“Sometimes I will let you sleep on this bed” then he pointed to a small wooden box nearby, “though mostly you will sleep padlocked inside that. You will of course sleep in full rubbers, possibly with a butt plug up you and your cock and balls trussed up. You will wear fist mitts too so that you can’t get at yourself. Understood?”

I nodded, turned on and frightened in equal amounts.

Alan pointed to a small cage that was just high enough to stand in.

“I will keep you in there much of the time” he said. Finally he tugged on my leash and pulled me over to a large kind of a shower cubicle in the far corner.

“And this is where you will clean up whenever I tell you.”

He slowly walked back across the dungeon to the sling. I crawled behind him, dying for him to let me lick those boots. God, I thought. I love my master. How could I want anything but to be completely reinvented as his rubber man?

“Stand up” he said pulling on the leash. I slowly got up and we stared into each others eyes.

“We’ll start with something gentle – and then your torment begins.”

He maneuvered me back into the sling and tied the loose end of the leash to one of the chains that it hung from. He fastened my wrists and ankles tightly into the straps that hung from the chains and padlocked chains around my body and through the rings in my collar until I was securely fastened into the sling. He smiled as he pulled open the zip of my suit around my arse. He pulled his cock out again and smeared it with KY. I shuddered and groaned as he slowly pressed it into my crack, the muffled noises from my hood making Alan smile. Soon his cock was completely in and the intense, almost painful feeling made me heat up inside my suit. Alan leant forward slightly, put his hands over my shoulders and gently, ever so slowly, rocked my helpless, shiny rubber body full of tingling nerves back and forth onto him. He kept it slow for ages and ages as I sweated and whimpered and gazed out of my hood into his stern, beautiful eyes.

As he got faster and faster I looked at the sweat breaking out on him, my gorgeous, perfect rubber sadist. He let out a huge grunt as he finally shot his load into me and I shook violently with him. My cock was pressed hard against the inside of my clinging; wet rubbers and felt like it might just explode at any moment. I whimpered with anticipation.

Alan cleaned his cock off on a towel and put it back in his jeans. Then he zipped my suit back up and stood next to me, running his gloved hands all over my body while studying the way he could make me shudder with delight at the slightest touch.

“Did you enjoy that, slave?” he asked eventually.

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“And what do you want now? Tell me honestly”

“I want to come off, master.”

“Well you can’t. Not yet. You’re going to have to learn that the satisfaction of your cock means nothing. When you are finally my rubberman, you’ll want nothing more than to exist – sealed up in rubber – to serve my cock. You’ll forget that you’ve even got a cock of your own. Just as you’ll forget what it’s like not to wear rubber. What it’s like not to sleep in a box. What it’s like not to have a hood covering your head.”

“Yes master.”

“So what shall I do with you?” he said to himself after a pause, and continued feeling his way all over my suit, making sure he kept returning to my crotch so that I’d repeatedly arch up into all my restraints with a massive groan.

“I think we ought to start your training with some piss confinement, slave. What do you think?”

“Whatever pleases you master.”

“That’s better.” he said, pleased with my response.

One by one he took off the straps and chains and told me to stand up.

“Take the hood off” he said as he walked across to a rail with loads of suits, sleep sacks and straight jackets hanging from it.

As I pulled off the hood, streams of sweat ran from my hair and down my face. I looked at Alan. He held up a suit in front of me. It was made from heavy rubber and had feet and gloves as part of it. It also had a hood on it which had no eye-holes or mouth, but a number of tubes running from a raised area where the face should have been. A couple of them were small, thin tubes, another was a thick, corrugated one. There was a long dry-zip running up the back of the suit and I realized that it would be completely watertight.

“Shall I take this suit off first master?” I asked, as it was fairly hot just wearing the one layer.

“No,” he said, “and never speak unless I tell you to. Okay?”

I nodded meekly. Clearly I wouldn’t be allowed to suggest ways of making things easier on me in future.

“Get into it, slave.” he said, putting it on the floor.

I stepped into its feet and pulled the legs up. Then I found the arms and pushed my gloved hands deep down into them till they found the fingers at the end. It was a heavy suit, much thicker than the one I already had on and straight away I began to feel hot in it. Finally I pulled the head section back over my sweating scalp and everything disappeared into blackness. I could hear my breathing inside the small hollow space where all the tubes came in. The sound of the outside world was muffled and distant. I could hear Alan beginning to close the stiff, brass zip on the back of the suit.

I suddenly felt really claustrophobic and helpless. He really did have total control over me. There was nothing I could do. Although I felt frightened, my cock became rigid with excitement at being sealed up in a suit that was clearly designed to have people piss into it. I was surrendering to my master every last shred of dignity so that he could use me as some kind of human urinal. Presumably he needed a piss now, I thought. When the zip was fully shut and I was properly enclosed in my hot, heavy, rubber prison, Alan began to rub me all over again.

“You look beautiful, my slave. I might keep you in this a lot.”

It turned me on just knowing that it was turning him on doing such a degrading, sadistic thing to me.

“Come with me, slave.” he said and began to walk my unsteady body over to another part of the dungeon.

He pushed me down onto the floor and secured my feet with a pair of ankle-cuffs. Then I realized I was in the cage, because he pulled my arms between the bars and handcuffed them on the other side. Then he shut the cage door and I heard the metallic click of a padlock.

His voice was right next to the total blackness of my hood.

“I don’t need to piss right now,” he said, “but I probably will later. So you’ll be ready. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Good slave. You’d better get used to this kind of thing too, because this is how you’ll spend most of your waking hours: trussed up in rubber, waiting to serve me – either as my urinal, my cocksucker or my fuck piece.”

And then he was gone.

For hours there was just silence around me. All I could hear was the noises my suits made rubbing against each other and the slick rippling of the inner suit on my drenched body. My breathing sounded loud, filling the hot, heavy hood with its wetness. Although it was fairly comfortable to be sat down, my arms and legs ached with the positions they’d been secured in. More hours passed. God knows how many – maybe four or five.

Then I heard the door again and the boots coming down the steps. They seemed to take forever to cross the dungeon to me. My heart raced at the idea of being stuck in all this rubber and Alan filling it with his piss. My cock pressed itself against the suit.

Alan said nothing. I heard his jeans unzipping though and felt the thick, corrugated tube being lifted slightly.

There was a sudden rushing noise and then my master’s steaming hot piss gushed into my hood. Some poured into my open mouth, more splashed all over my face, neck and the shoulders of my inner suit. Some of it ran down inside against my skin, some outside over the shiny rubber. All of it showered into the heavy suit though: the rubber container that Alan had chained to the inside of the cage.

This was wonderful. Being put in total rubber enclosure (that I couldn’t possibly get out of) by the man I worshiped and having him fill up my suit with his piss. I almost came off as it rushed over me and into me.

Soon – and without a word – he was gone again and I was left in the silence once more. As well the sounds of my rubbers, I could now sense the atmosphere of this enclosed world. It reeked of piss and of sweat and of rubber. It filled the hood and my nostrils. I would have to learn to love this smell, I thought, as Alan would imprison me with it again and again.

After another hour or so – I think – he came back again. Once more he took a mighty piss down the tube. I almost laughed with pleasure at how good it made me feel to be showered by his fluids and to be contained in them like this. I wondered what I must look like to my master; this pathetic rubber figure chained up at his boots – totally faceless – with this tube that runs into the hood of his victim.

God, I loved him for doing this to me.

When he’d finished, I heard his rubber jeans creak softly as he crouched down beside me. He stroked my head.

“Good slave,” he said.

“You really are a good slave. You’ve been in that suit for quite a few hours now: you’re doing well. Now do you want me to let you out now or shall I shall I keep you in it for a while longer and do whatever I want for the rest of the evening?”

“Whatever you want, master” I said weakly into the hood.

“Good slave.” he said, stroking my head again and left me.

Soon after he’d gone, I found I couldn’t hold my own bladder any longer and pissed myself. Hot urine gushed up the inside of my suit, adding to the mess of sweat and pre-cum that already stuck it to my skin. Suddenly I felt like I wanted to cry. How could I do this to myself? Did I really want to live like this? Forever?

But I’d wanted this. Desperately. I’d wanted to become someone else – to become Alan’s rubber man. It was the greatest gift I could give him. It was the way I wanted to show how complete my love for him – my worship of him – was. To lose myself and become his object.

When he came back some time later he didn’t piss into my suit again, which I was expecting him to. He unchained me and led me to the shower cubicle. I stayed knelt down as he stood behind me and unzipped the suit.

“Wash and get naked” he said and shut the frosted glass door behind him before I could look up. As I pulled the suits off me, piss ran out into the shower tray, leaking from zips, falling out of the rubber limbs and streaming from my hair.

I rinsed the suits out and cleaned myself thoroughly. Then I hung the rubbers up on hangers just outside the cubicle. When I was completely dry I walked back out, naked, into the main part of the dungeon.

Alan lay on the bed, still in his rubber jeans and biker jacket, though he’d taken the t-shirt off. God, he was gorgeous. He looked every inch the master and I desperately wanted to suck him dry right there and then.

He held a cigarette in his right gloved hand and patted the shiny, black sheet with his left.

“Sit here, slave.” he said.

I sat naked on the rubber sheet. It felt good against my arse – all soft and horny. I looked at him – deep into his eyes as he continued to smoke and played with my hard cock and balls with his gloved hand.

“That feel good, slave?” he asked as he listened to my shallow, fast breathing.

“Yes master.”

“Want to come off now?”

“God yes, master.”

He smiled sadistically, knowing that I was at the point of just shooting my load all over his gorgeous, shiny gear.

“Well you’re going to have to do some good work with your tongue first. You can start with my boots.”

I licked those boots so hard, so lovingly. I worshiped them just like I worshiped his jeans and his jacket: his whole uniform – everything that made him look like the perfect sadistic master he was – the whole, shiny rubber uniform. I covered the jeans with my loving tongue too. The rubber tasted like sex. If I glanced up occasionally I’d see Alan looking at me, smiling. He knew just how much he controlled me – how much this training would allow him to do, just how far he could go. I knew from the smile that he was going to take me to hell and back” and he was going to get a pervy kick out of every bit of it.

He pulled me up towards him and shoved my face deep into his armpit and pulled the jacket over my head. I licked and licked while I felt his rubber gloves moving over my body, playing with my buttocks and my crack. Then I felt him pull my hands behind my back and snap handcuffs onto them.

He pulled me into a kneeling position next him and took his sweaty cock from out of the shiny, black jeans. I licked a load of pre-cum off the end of it and then felt his gloves tightening their grip on my head and him forcing my mouth deep over its length. Then he just kept pushing my head up and down, faster and faster and rougher and rougher on his cock until it shot a huge stream of hot, bitter cum down my throat.

He kept my face pressed down on it for a few minutes more as I drank up each last bit of gism that seeped from it.

“And now it’s your turn to come off slave,” he said and lay me back onto my restrained arms, wrapping his rubber-clad body around me. One glove moved over my mouth and pressed it firmly shut, while the other furiously wanked me off.

He whispered frantically into my ear between biting and kissing my neck.

“You’re going to wish you’d never signed that contract” I’m going to take you apart” experiment on your body” see what limits I can take you to” completely degrade you” torture you till you cry” I’m going to take away your identity, so you’re my nobody” my rubber slave”

I screamed into Alan’s glove as my cum sprayed up my chest and my body arched into his. I shook with ecstasy as he continued rubbing my cock slowly and gently till it had run out of gism.

I kissed his jacket and his nipples and his cock while he undid my handcuffs, so grateful he had let me come off.

He wiped up my spilt cum with his gloved hands and pushed them into my mouth so that I ate every last bit of my own load – the beautiful taste of rubber and cum.

“Thank you master. I love you.”

“Lick my boots,” he said, ignoring me.

Straight away, I rushed down to them and licked them with all the love I could muster. After a while he pulled me back up so that I lay next to him and we shared a cigarette silently. And while I had the ciggy, his rubber fingers played gently with my nipples till I had a raging hard-on again.

He’d obviously meant for me to get that hard-on because at that point he said “Get into that suit,” and pointed to one that hung near the bed. Obediently I slipped my body into it, finding that the zip was at the back and finished down between my legs. There was no zip or panel at the front. Alan zipped it up for me and played with the huge erection that pressed up against the inside of the front of the suit.

“It’s going to be hard for you in that suit tonight isn’t it, slave” he said, grinning cruelly at me. He strapped long fist-mitts onto me as well so that I had no chance of working the erection off.

“To the box, slave,” he said and pushed me onto all fours.

I crawled over to it as he walked beside me, and then I climbed into it.

He knelt down next to me and pulled out a rubber blindfold from inside the box. As he put it on me, I made sure the last thing I could see was his beautiful, cruel eyes. Then all was darkness.

“Say goodnight to your master’s cock, slave.” he said pulling my face slowly forward into his crotch.

I kissed and licked and sucked on it until it was hard, and he began to push my face into it again and again. Finally with a huge grunt he came in my mouth. I swallowed it and licked the remains off his knob.

His gloves cupped my face as he kissed my forehead.

“This is nothing compared to what happens tomorrow. Goodnight slave.” he said after a while.

“Goodnight master.” I replied.

He pushed me down into the rubber sheeting and closed the lid of the wooden box, securing it with two heavy padlocks and leaving me in the sweaty, dark silence – alone with my fears, my anticipation and my painful hard-on.

I was awake long before Alan came and unlocked the wooden box I’d slept in. The inside of my suit was drenched in sweat, and a huge load of pre-cum was smeared all around my cock which had refused to soften during the night. It had rubbed painfully up against my belly and the wet rubber of the suit, making it harder, making it leak more and more pre-cum as I tried to ignore it, my hands pathetically useless in the constricting, sweaty fist-mitts strapped onto my arms. It had been difficult to sleep at all in the stuffy confines of the box, my blindfolded head laid on an inflated rubber pillow and my soaking rubber-clad body curled up in a kind of fetal position. It was hot and uncomfortable and I still felt both frightened and excited by what might await me at the hands of my master now that I’d given him complete control over me.

I heard Alan undoing the padlocks that held the lid of the box shut and lifting it back. Straight away I could feel cooler, fresher air sweeping over my hot, wet body. He lifted me into a sitting position and took off my blindfold. As my eyes focused I could see him smiling at me out of a rubber hangman’s hood. The rest of his body was covered in a beautifully tight, shiny suit and gloves and waders. His gorgeous cock hung semi-hard from a small unzipped section of the suit, gleaming with pre-cum.

“Good morning, slave.”

“Good morning, master.”

“Get your mouth round my cock, slave” he said suddenly and sternly.

I quickly opened my mouth as he leaned forward over me while I still sat in the box. No sooner had my lips closed around his cock than it gushed a huge, hot wall of piss into my throat. I almost choked as it splashed around my mouth and filled it with a bitter, steamy taste. Alan’s gloves kept my head pressed firmly into his rubber crotch where he wanted it.

As I spluttered and gagged, trying to swallow as much of his juice as I could, it began pouring out of the sides of my mouth and down my suit. He pressed my head further down on his sweaty, rubbery knob as I continued drinking and choking on his piss.

He stopped and pulled his cock from my mouth, the smile back on his face, his eyes gleaming from inside the hangman’s hood. Then another burst of piss showered out, this time spraying my face and soaking my hair. Some stung my eyes, while more ran down into my mouth.

I’d never really liked the taste of piss – not unless it was pretty weak after a night on the booze – but I still worshiped it and wanted to taste it and drink it and be covered in it because it was HIS. It was like some fantastically obscene communion as I drank from his body, drank his waste – just to prove how much I loved him.

While I sat there, my head soaked in his hot piss, he picked up a hood from the floor next to him and zipped it tightly onto my head, buckling its collar roughly into place. It had no eye holes at all and fitted me perfectly – so tightly, filling my nostrils with the scent of rubber again and sealing in all that piss around my head and in my hair. It did, however, have a large open space for the mouth – much larger than the usual slits or zips.

“Are you really sweaty in that suit, slave?” he asked.

“Yes master, soaking.”

“Good” And you’re still hard from last night?”

“Yes master.”

“Let me feel” he said and began to grope my crotch really roughly, making me squirm with pleasure and bursts of agony as he played. This went on for a few minutes till I could hardly bear it and wanted to scream for him to stop when suddenly his hand was gone. A few seconds later I felt a leash being attached to my collar. He pulled me to my feet and walked me a few feet across the dungeon. I walked hesitantly and awkwardly, partly because of the lack of sight, partly because of the rubbing of my hard-on inside my suit.

Alan pushed me face down onto the bed while he – I think – sat down or laid down beside me, unzipping my backside and forcing a lubricated, rubber-gloved hand up into my crack.

“I want you to rub yourself off against the bed, slave.” he said, moving a finger around deep inside my arse. I moaned and whimpered and squirmed as it tingled and burned inside me.

With the fist-mitts on, it was difficult to make any kind of proper grip on the bed, but soon my tired, sweating body, cocooned in skintight rubber, was fucking the rubber sheets for all it was worth, breathing fast and shallow as I tried to reach orgasm without actually pissing myself at the same time.

Suddenly the muscles in my backside tightened round Alan’s fingers and my whole body seemed to go into spasm and I cried out loud a hoarse, wordless cry as hot cum splattered and shot up the inside of my suit. My cock seemed white hot and my limbs shook uncontrollably. My voice fell away and I was left, drenched and whimpering in the tight, wet void of my rubbers. My master slowly pulled out his fingers from my crack and gently stroked my back and my head. I could feel his rubber moving softly on mine and I loved him for putting me through such exquisite torment to pleasure the two of us.

“Good slave” he whispered against my hood, “good slave.”

He stroked me a while longer and then turned me over onto my back. I lay there, blinded and expectant as I heard his waders creaking next to me and felt his beautiful, suited body moving somewhere above mine.

Then he knelt down right over my face, one wader jamming in on either side of my head – his calves held my useless arms down on the bed – and unzipped the arse of his suit. In no time he had settled his crack down onto the opening in my hood. Rubbery sweat from his back and his crotch poured into my mouth.

“Rim me, slave! Rim me for all you’re fuckin? worth!” he shouted, wriggling his arse further into my face. I licked and licked, barely able to breathe underneath him, tasting his sweat and tasting his crack, thinking I was the luckiest man alive to have him – all rubbered up – shifting around on my face, lucky bastard slave that I am.

I could hear him moaning and grunting as I worked at his crack and soon his arms were reaching back and toying with my nipples – making me go at him even more frantically as my cock hardened once more.

Eventually he lifted himself off and I heard him playing with his zip.

“Mmmmm. Good slave.” he said as his body shifted somewhere above me. Then he settled down onto me again but a bit further back and I tasted a dangling strand of pre-cum that swung into my mouth.

“And now – as a reward for being so good you can have your breakfast. Do you want me to give you your breakfast, slave?”

“Please master.”

“Well here it comes” he said viciously and rammed his cock deep into my mouth. I just lay there as he fucked my face, harder and harder and quicker and quicker. I moved my fist-mitts up behind him and stroked his buttocks as he plunged in and out of my throat.

“Aagh!” he suddenly shouted and, with a final jolt, shot a wave of hot spunk into me. I stayed still as he continued to move up and down on my face, slower and slower until he was exhausted and I had taken every last drop of his wonderful gism down.

After a while he got up off me and I heard him zipping his suit back up.

He pulled on my leash and helped move me up off the bed. I stood there completely disorientated in the blackness of the hood, still tasting his cum in my mouth as he slowly fingered my suit, playing with my nipples and running his gloves around my body, making me shudder with pleasure. Soon his hands reached the bulge of my cock and he rubbed it around, making it glide through the mess of spunk and sweat inside my suit. It was rock hard again and ached with every motion he made.

“It feels a bit messy in there, slave” he said, taunting me.

“Yes master. It is.” I replied feebly.

He continued playing with the bulge for a while, probably studying the way my mouth twitched as he turned it on more and more.

“Come with me” he said after a while and began to lead me across the dungeon. When we stopped he took the leash off my collar and began fixing restraints to my ankles, making sure my legs were spread slightly open. Then he lifted my arms up above me one at a time and, with them still enclosed in the fist-mitts secured them to some thick, padded restraints that were hanging from the ceiling on thick, heavy chains.

Then he unzipped my hood and took it off, putting aside on a table nearby. He came and stood in front of me, bringing a fearsome looking cat-and-nine-tails with him. He dragged its mass of rubber flails across one of his gloves, not taking his eyes off my face.

“I want to see your face while I do this” he said, a cruel smile appearing beneath the hangman’s hood and his beautiful eyes glinting at the pleasure he was about to have.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, slave” he said, “but I’m going to give you a fucking good whipping.” He tenderly touched the side of my soaking face with his glove.

“But you’ve got to learn to take any torture I decide to give you” no matter how severe. And also I’m just going to get a big turn-on out of giving you the most extreme sensations that you never even knew existed – and that you never thought you could bear.”

He began to run the whip across my chest and then my back and my arse as he walked around me. Soon his beautiful, suited figure was back in front of me.

“And if you’re wondering why I’ve not stripped you for this, it’s because it’s going to sting even more through all the rubber and sweat. Now be brave and take this like the perfect slave you want me to turn you into”

With that he started whipping my rubber-clad body, slowly at first, with intensely hot, stinging blows. At first I just made grunting noises and startled whimpers, but as the frequency and viciousness of the lashes increased I began to scream out loud. Not for mercy. Not for him to stop. But just because it was the only thing I could do.

He beat me all over: on my arse, up my back, on my nipples and on my crotch. Tears of agony streamed from my eyes as my body swung violently in the restraints, jumping at the explosions of pain that came with each blow. Through my tears I saw him stood in front of me in his suit and waders, swinging the lash across my hard-on, gritting his teeth, his eyes burning deep into mine. After a while – along while – he stopped and my exhausted body hung limp in front of him as I cried uncontrollably at the washes of painful heat that spread out inside my suit. He put the whip away on the table and came back to me. I wanted him to kiss me but he just looked at the restraints and began to undo them one by one. When he’d taken them all off I just stood there. He put one of his gloved hands on top of my head and pushed me down onto my knees.

“Good slave” he said as he undid the zip around his crotch and pulled out a huge, hard cock, streaming with pre-cum.

“Good slave” he kept repeating as he pushed my face onto it.

I sobbed as I sucked on him, realizing just how complete an experience he was going to make this for me. That pain was for real but he was doing it because I’d wanted to go through anything for him. He was just making sure I did go through everything for him.

His body jolted as he came in my mouth: warm, comforting spurts that told me he was rewarding me for the pain I’d gone through. The spunk kept coming – loads of it streaming in and rolling over my tongue and into the corners of my mouth. He kept my face pressed into his crotch for a while and then pulled me away so that I could look up at his beautiful, sadistic body and face.

The suit was skintight on him, as were the gloves, and his eyes were so intense they looked almost lit-up inside his hood. He smiled down at me.

“You did well, slave” he said, running a glove through my sodden hair, “but you reek of piss.” He patted my head and walked away to the rail with all the suits and sleep sacks hung from it. He spoke as he rummaged through the gear.

“I’m going out shopping for a few hours so I’m going to have to leave you on your own and I don’t want you playing with yourself and trying to satisfy your own cock when you should be thinking of me”

He walked back over to me carrying a heavy rubber straight jacket.

“Stand up, slave.”

I stood up and held out my arms, still sheathed in the tight fist-mitts, as he held up the straight jacket and put it onto me, feeding my arms deep into its long sleeves. Straight away the thickness of it heated me up even more than I already was and sweat began rolling from my hair, bringing the remains of my master’s piss with it.

He walked round behind me and zipped it up. Then before doing up all the straps, he opened the arse of my suit and pushed a heavily lubricated vibrator up it. I groaned as it made its way deep inside me and he strapped it into place with a tight crotch harness that it was attached to. Then he fastened all the straps on the straight jacket extremely tightly, padlocking each of them shut. He did the same for the straps that went between my legs and the buckles and fastenings on the end of the sleeves. Finally he firmly locked up the stiff rubber collar of the straight jacket and walked round in front of me.

The constriction was making me ache already: this might well be a very long few hours for me, I thought.

Alan walked me over to the cage and sat me down in it, locking the door of it as he left. Then he knelt down next to me and I gazed deep into the eyes that sparkled from inside the hangman’s hood as he smiled at me.

He held up a small plastic device with a button on it.

“Oh, and this is how I’m going to make sure you’re thinking of me while I’m away” he said and pressed the button down.

The vibrator started up and my body jolted as my hard-on sprang up against the inside of my suit. I moaned. Then it stopped again.

“Now stay there, won’t you” he said with the cruelest smile on his beautiful face. God I loved him for reducing me to this. God I loved him for having this much control over me. I nuzzled my face up to the gloved hand that held one of the bars in front of me and he watched, smiling at his pathetic and willing victim, as I kissed and licked it for minute after minute.

He leaned his face into the bars and kissed me with a long, tender kiss.

Then without a word he got up, turned around and left me, switching the lights out as he closed the cellar door behind him.

I lost track of time really, totally disorientated by the dark and the silence and aching from the severity of the straight jacket’s tightness and the soreness of my whip marks in the clammy wetness of my suit.

But after some long while I heard what I thought was the main door to the house shutting as he left.

The vibrator buzzed and throbbed as it burst into life, rubbing up against my prostate. I pictured Alan in his suit and waders brandishing the whip – and straight away I let out a huge, agonized moan as a fresh load of hot cum sprayed up the inside of my rubbers, my body squirming around in the cramping, padlocked security of the straight jacket.

I couldn’t believe how much pain I was in from just being slumped there in the cage for so long. My skin felt sore and still smarted in the dampness of my suit from the vicious beating from Alan’s cat-and-nine-tails. My chest and arms ached with the constriction of the straight jacket, padlocked so tightly onto my helpless body and my arse ached from the thick vibrator strapped into it. I sat there for hour after hour, sweating in the darkness, drinking the streams that rolled down my face to try and quench my dry throat. I leaned my temples against the cold steel of the cage bars to cool them down and shifted uncomfortably in my gism and all the other mess that was building up in my suit.

I thought I heard the distant noise of the front door as he returned but he didn’t come down to the dungeon for another two hours or so. I had no idea of what time it might be: there would be no daylight – only the light and dark that he decided I should have.

Finally I heard the heavy door to the dungeon being unlocked and his boots coming down the steps once he’d shut it behind him. The lights came on and I squinted for some time, trying to adjust after such a long period of total darkness. When I was eventually able to see, I found that he was stood near the cage just staring at my pathetic, hunched form. He was wearing the one-piece suit and waders again, with gloves and the rubber hangman’s hood completing his outfit. He looked so severe and so powerful – I smiled weakly at his beautiful, perfect, masterful figure.

“How are you, slave?” he asked after a long silence.

“Aching, master.” I replied.

He just smiled with an obvious satisfaction.

Then he unlocked the cage and lifted me into a standing position and helped me to walk slowly towards the restraints that hung from the ceiling. This time he didn’t reach for the wrist restraints but let down some wider ankle restraints on another set of chains.

“Lie down on your back, slave.” he said, and I clumsily made my way down onto the floor, still in my suit and straight jacket.

“Put your feet up in the air” he said sternly.

I did so, and he secured my ankles in the restraints. Then he went over to the wall and used a pulley to raise them further and further up until I was basically resting my shoulders and upper back on the floor, my legs strained and dangling from up near his chest. He walked over to the table and fetched the riding crop. He stood virtually over my face, looking into my terrified eyes as he tapped the crop against the open palm of his glove.

“I never want to hear you tell me you’re aching, slave” he said angrily and lashed the crop across my bollocks. I screamed out loud with the intensity of the pain and my straight jacketed torso swung wildly with the shock.

“I want only to hear you worshiping me! Understand?” he said as he whipped my scrotum again. I screamed once more.

“I said do you understand, slave?” he shouted and swung the crop right across my cock.

“Yes master!” I managed to cry back before screaming with the stinging of the blow through the drenched suit on my tender flesh.

He walked around behind me and flogged my arse with all his might. My muscles clenched on the vibrator and I lurched pathetically around on my shoulders, trying to avoid the worst of the beating. He wouldn’t let me avoid it though, and just kept beating me and beating me till he could hear how hard I was crying and that my body was so exhausted it just hung limp and shook with each new blow.

He stopped and walked around to stand over my face again, pointing the crop down and rubbing my face with it.

“Are you sorry, slave?”

“Yes master, I’m sorry. I love you.” I replied, sobbing.

“Thank me for punishing you then”

“Thank you master.” I said quietly and reverently.

“Good slave” he said, beginning to smile again, “I punish you to teach you a lesson and you must thank me for teaching you, mustn’t you slave?”

“Yes master. Thank you.”

“Now lick my waders, slave”

Although it was difficult to move myself in the straight jacket, I managed to lean my head over and set my tongue to work on the heavy, industrial rubber of my master’s waders. My dangling body – a shiny, black mass of straps and padlocks twitched and swung as I tried to keep my face leaned into his boots.

After a while he knelt down over me and just felt me through the straight jacket, feeling how tight it was on me, rattling all the padlocks, getting turned-on at how trussed up I was and slowly moving his gloved hand up to massage my sore cock. I whimpered and shivered at the mixture of pain and relief he gave me and wanted to shout out how much I loved him – but I knew I must keep silent unless he told me to speak.

Then, still knelt over me, Alan undid the zip of his suit so that just his crack was showing and, without a word, lowered himself down onto my face.

I rimmed him deep and hard, showing how good a slave I could be – hardly able to draw breath most of the time, gasping frantically at the hot, sweaty air trapped inside his suit. My tongue flicked around inside his crack while he used his mouth to suck on – and play with – my genitals even though they were imprisoned in my skintight rubbers.

I heard him moaning as I kept on rimming him, and I kept letting out small whimpers as he gently bit on my nads through the suit.

Then he moved himself off me and walked off to the chains and pulley at the wall. As he pulled on the chains my body was slowly lifted clear of the floor altogether, and he kept working at the pulley for a while, zipped his backside up again whilst unzipping his cock and then walked back over to me.

I dangled upside-down, completely helpless in the straight jacket with his wet, hard cock dribbling a long strand of pre-cum right in front of my mouth. His rubber gloves stroked my hair for a moment and then grabbed my head tightly and plunged it down onto his shaft.

He pumped my head back and forth onto its length as I gagged and spluttered. His motions became quicker and I heard him sighing and groaning as he came closer and closer to orgasm.

He stopped suddenly as he groaned really loudly, keeping my head pressed absolutely into his suit – the whole length of his cock filling my mouth. Then it just exploded into my throat with a huge wash of hot cum. I almost choked on it and tried to struggle my way free, but he just held me there and a few seconds later another burst arrived. A third followed soon after with a final, exhausted jolt and he slowly relaxed his grip.

As I swallowed all that was left, he pulled up a chair in front of me and found a cigarette on the table by the wall. He lit it and sat down, smoking it as he calmed down – staring at the sight of me hanging upside-down in front of him in a suit and straight jacket, licking the remains of his gism from my lips.

He smiled as he smoked and we gazed at each other in complete silence: him, probably enjoying his handiwork at total restraint – and me, worshiping him for every way he could use me as his rubber slave.

He put down the cigarette in an ashtray for a moment and slowly lowered my ankles to a position where he could safely undo the restraints. He pulled me up by the heavy, steel D-ring on the front of the straight jacket’s collar and dragged me over to the chair. He made me kneel between his legs and lick his sagging, juicy cock while he continued smoking, and with his free hand he ruffled and stroked my messy, wet hair.

After a while he moved me back onto the floor so that I lay on my back in front of the chair. It was a bit uncomfortable because of the tight strapping and buckles and padlocks down the back of the straight jacket but it still felt like a resting position. Alan zipped up his suit again and sat back down, prizing my legs apart with his waders. He lit another cigarette and sat there in complete silence watching me, grinding my crotch around with both his boots. I moaned and whimpered, looking up at him occasionally to see his satisfied grin beaming from beneath the hangman’s hood.

“You’ve had that suit on since last night, haven’t you slave?”

“Yes master.”

“Are you hot in it?”

“Yes master.”

“And messy?”

“Yes master.”

“Good. I want you to get used to feeling like that.”

He continued massaging my knob and balls with his waders for a while and then lifted up the radio-control device for the vibrator that was still strapped to me.

“I think it’s about time you messed up your suit a bit more” he said, and pressed the button down as his waders played harder and harder with my tackle.

I grunted and groaned as my arse tightened and twitched on the vibrator. I couldn’t hold it any longer: my eyes shut, my whole body arched up from the floor and hot, painful gism shot up my belly.

After I had stopped groaning and settled down into a limp, rubber body on the dungeon floor again my master stood up and turned me over. As he slowly undid all the padlocks and straps he spoke to me.

“You can go to bed in your little box now. You’ll stay in the suit till tomorrow. And you can have a lie-in tomorrow morning ’cause I’ve got some workmen in: something I organized while I was out today. But I’ll come and get you up after they’ve gone and we’ll continue your training.”

It was only once the straight jacket was pulled off me that I noticed I was still stuck in the fist-mitts. Alan slowly and delicately unstrapped and removed the vibrator and zipped the arse of my suit back up.

“Bet your arse is sore, isn’t it slave?” he asked.

“Yes master.”

“Good. I’m going to train it to take me anytime, so it’ll probably be sore a lot more times over the coming weeks. Now, let’s put you to bed”

He made me crawl on the floor behind him as he walked over to the wooden box and opened it up. I stepped into it and laid my head on the rubber pillow.

“Sweet dreams, my slave.” he said and closed the lid, leaving me in darkness.

“I love you” I heard him say as he snapped shut the heavy padlocks on the lid of the box. Even after all that exertion and coming-off, I was hard again. I was also drenched in sweat and cum inside my suit and my hair reeked of my master’s piss.

It was going to be another long night.

I found it difficult to sleep that night. Not surprising given the heat inside the box and the mess of juices that seeped around me in my suit. All the places where Alan had thrashed me so hard – my cock and balls, my buttocks, my back and my tits – were hot and sore, and the inside of my arse ached after having had the vibrator up it for so long. Even my arms still ached from the time they’d spent so tightly strapped up in the straight jacket. All I could smell in the confines of this tiny, secure cell was rubber, sweat and piss.

I was exhausted though, and after a few hours desperately trying to get comfortable – shifting around in a mess of gism – I finally fell asleep.

Testicles Taken

Applying Castration Bands To Testicles

I awake with a jolt when several intruders invade my bedroom and pin me to my bed.

The blankets are taken off me, and my underwear is pulled down. Someone has me in a head lock, others have my arms pinned, and yet more have my spread legs securely immobilized.

My ball bag is squeezed by a merciless hand and yanked violently down toward my thighs. I feel as though my testicles will be pulled right off my body because my scrotum cannot be stretched any more. My balls instinctively attempt to find refuge in my lower abdomen but they are held captive by the intruders.

All I can see are the shadowed forms of my assailants in the soft glow of a nightlight plugged into the wall near my bed. I count at least a half-dozen of them.

I feel the cold sharpness of a knife blade press against my scrotum and I discern a sawing motion there as my nut sack yields to the blade without resistance. And suddenly I realize that I am about to be castrated right there in my bed! I squirm and attempt to wrestle free, but I am held firm. I cannot stop what is about to happen. I surrender to the inevitable: I am going to be emasculated!

The one at my head hisses fiendishly, “You know what this is about, don’t you?”

Of course I knew. I had been warned that if I ever went public with the details of my brief same-sex affair with a male celebrity, I would be compelled to surrender my balls as payment for my disclosure. I knew the eventuality of this, but I never actually dreamed it would really happen!

But here I was, legs spread, naked, my genitals exposed, vulnerable and unprotected, and my balls about to be excised from my crotch. It was really going to happen! I was really going to lose my balls! My testicles were actually going to be taken!

As I contemplate my impending castration, my mind frantically mulls over the events leading up to this moment…

***

I met Armando “Marty” Martinez (his stage name) when I, as a cable repairman, was summoned to his home to run a diagnostic check on all his cable junction boxes.

It was the last service call of the day. Marty answered the door in his bathrobe and explained that he was about to take a shower when I knocked.

When it was obvious to Marty by the look on my face that I was trying to place his familiarity in my mind, he grinned and said calmly, “I know, you think you’ve met me before. I was on that TV show back in the 90s. You’probably seen me on TV.”

Of course! That’s why he looked so familiar. Truth be known, I had a crush on Marty when I watched that show. I’m sure that I, along with many a female teeny-bopper, fantasized about being with him naked.

He showed me where the junction boxes were; living room, dining area, and bedroom, and then hit the shower.

I quickly ruled out any problems in the two junctions boxes in the front rooms, and so focused on the one in Marty’s bedroom.

Once there, however, I gaped shamelessly at Marty’s beautiful nakedness in that shower! He had not bothered to close the bathroom door, and was on full lustful display in my line of sight where I worked on the junction box. It’s as though Marty wanted to be seen.

I chose to pursue this career because it seemed the macho thing to do. You see, I am a closeted queer scared to death that my homosexuality will become known to others, and I pump iron, keep in shape, and talk about my exploits with women so that no one will know my secret sexual identity or compulsions. But when afforded the opportunity to look at men or check out the guys, I can’t help myself. I give in to my lusts and unrestrained fantasies every time.

I am also attracted to women, but my most powerful urges and desires are for men. And so when I caught furtive glances at Marty’s nakedness, I was captivated in a way difficult to describe! Not only was he a great looking guy, he was famous!

I surveyed his olive-toned skin. I lusted over his genital region remarkable for its thick black pubic hair, uncircumcised penis and dangling nut sack. When Marty turned toward the shower head to rinse off, his backside was in full erotic display for me. I became fixated on his butt, the sensuality of his crack, his strong leg muscles and his chiseled back muscles. He kept in shape; beautiful statuesque shape!

I fumbled with my tools as I shot glances at him in that shower.I don’t recall now if I even fixed the problem with the cable I was so obsessed and distracted by his nakedness.

Occasionally, we made eye contact, and Marty smiled. Even though I was embarrassed to be caught looking at him, I was drawn to him and that smile I’d seen a dozen times on that TV show.

After his shower, he wrapped a towel around his loins and offered me a drink. I declined, telling him I was on call and couldn’t risk a DUI. He then offered me a soft drink, which I accepted.

As we talked in the dining area where the bar was, he kept fidgeting with that towel. Occasionally it slipped down a little and I caught a glimpse of a cheek, or a small bit of pubic hair. He even once pulled it all the way off and re-wrapped himself with it, giving me a full view of his beautiful naked body.

He told me that after the show was canceled he cut a few albums, and did bit roles in some movies, and was lately highlighting a midnight show in Las Vegas. He was 38-years-old, two years my senior.

I have to admit that I enjoyed being in the presence of this famous guy and didn’t really want to leave. He seemed interested in knowing about me, and asked questions about my job, my family, and future plans.

After about 45 minutes, he looked me square in the eyes and asked, “Did you like what you saw in the shower?”

I was floored! Damn straight I liked it! But I sheepishly looked down and barely muttered, “Yes.”

He stood up and let the towel fall to the floor. He sat next to me on the sofa and began unzipping my pants. Within seconds I was as naked as he was! Even though I was reveling in what was happening, heady that this was a famous celebrity, and eager for what was going to happen next, I was aware that I had worked all day, and that I didn’t smell very good. I mentioned it to him.

“Not at all,” Marty responded. “I sometimes enjoy the male scent of a working man: his musky under arm aroma, the faint fragrance of his sweat, and the unabashed smell of his crotch.”

So there it was: I was being hit on by a famous celebrity! And I was enjoying it to the hilt!

We soon ended up in Marty’s bed where he was brutal and aggressive in his seduction. While I enjoyed sucking his penis and caressing his masculine features, Marty seemed more interested in using me as a sexual plaything. He pounded his erect cock into my anus, stabbed my butt hole with his finger, and forced his aroused penis into my mouth so far I thought the back of my throat would be pierced by it. While he penetrated my eager anus, I feared his thrusting would rupture my rectum and my prostate. I attempted a time or two to resist, but Marty became more aggressive.

So I relented and allowed this man to have his way with me. While I was alarmed and shocked a few times at his muscular mastery over me, I also wanted him in the worst way. Not only was I being fucked by a famous man whom I had lusted over a decade and a half ago, this was my first same sex encounter!

Yet when we tangled in those bed sheets and worked up a sex-saturated sweat, Marty seemed to be performing to an unseen audience, and some of the things he said were not directed toward me as much as to an anonymous personality not there in the room with us. It occurred to me then that he had put something in his drink to enhance his libido and his energy.

When I was able to be dominant, I wanted to discover his anus. Common folks like me are always curious about the rich and famous: do they have pee holes and butt holes? Do they piss and shit? Do they react like normal, regular folks?

I had him on his belly sprawled out on the bed. I gently parted his to-die-for cheeks, and exposed his secret little puckered anal slit. Its circular shaped was brownish in color. I was overcome with lust and slid my finger in. He groaned in pleasure so I removed my finger and stimulated his famous anus with my tongue. Marty groaned again, more appreciatively.

I then wanted to satisfy another curiosity: I wanted to have this famous man’s aroused penis in my mouth again. I wanted to suck his nuts dry. I wanted to comb his pubes with my teeth. Marty climaxed powerfully in my mouth without warning. He pumped spurt after spurt of sperm into my mouth and onto my tongue. While my mouth eagerly accepted his cum, I was somewhat repulsed by the salty, slippery texture of his sperm. Even while the taste and warm feel was objectionable, I tried to savor it and then I swallowed it because I wanted to see what a famous person’s cum tasted and felt like. It burned my throat as it slid down into my belly. I resisted the compulsion to spit due to the after taste of his sperm because he was famous and I wanted to experience every aspect of this.

Finally, Marty was ready for my climax. But instead of masturbating me, or offering me his anus, his grabbed my nut sack and squeezed it tight, telling me, “You’d better enjoy your last cum because once you’re through squirting, I’m going to cut your balls off!”

He had me get on my hands and knees again, and yanked my balls back so far I knew he’d be able to stuff them up my asshole. So there I was, my butt facing Marty, my balls pulled tight in his hands, facelessly being compelled to cum so that he could cut my balls off! And yet, there was a thrill and excitement to this moment I have a hard time describing. My balls were at his mercy. He was threatening to castrate me once I climaxed. I was naked, my butt hole was exposed before him, and my hard cock was dangling between my legs. I looked up and saw our reflection in the mirror. What a rush! He was kneeling behind me taking possession of my testicles, threatening me with their removal, warning me to enjoy it because it was my last, and I did not want to stop it, full well knowing what he was threatening to do!

“If you don’t cum now, you never will,” he said warningly. I reached down and took firm hold of my penis. I began stroking it. At that moment, Marty slid his finger into my anus and began poking my prostate. Between the pleasurable sensations on my penis, the violating naughtiness of my anus being penetrated, and the menacing finality of Marty’s strong grasp on my squeezed testicles, I shot a powerful and prolonged stream of sperm all over Marty’s bed sheets. I pumped and pumped and pumped while Marty encouraged me with, “That’s right, give it all to me. Empty yourself. Pump your nuts dry. I have your balls in my hand and while you are having a climax right now, I hold in my hand all your future orgasms.”

I shot until I was sure I was dry, and then collapsed on the bed. Marty turned lose of my balls and slowly removed his finger from my anus. I shot another spurt or two of cum as he did.

I showered before I left that evening. But Marty had me sign some form he said protected him from “kiss and tell” lovers who exploited him and then made money on revealing details of his private life. I signed the form without reading it because I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell anyone I had a queer encounter with an actor! Not even my parents knew I was a gay man.

Thus began an affair that lasted for several weeks. During our sex times, Marty became more and more verbal about castrating me, a threat I found curiously exciting and exhilarating. I can’t explain it, but when Marty yanked my balls as far away from my body as my scrotum would allow, and then announced passionately that my balls were his and were free for the taking, I became powerfully aroused and desirous of the extreme nakedness and exposure these utterances invoked in me!

I harbored a deep desire for Marty to take my testicles and keep them. The thought of being castrated at the height of an orgasm was powerfully arousing! Losing them at the precise moment of my most prolific ejaculations make me feel so naked and exposed, I dripped precum from my pee hole even when Marty wasn’t around.

As our sex play evolved, Marty revealed to me his own castration compulsions. He demanded that I bite his balls as hard as I could prior to his orgasm. He ordered me to suck his nuts right out of his sack! He said he would slice my nuts off if I didn’t bite his off! Such talk was so erotic and abruptly sensual, I just couldn’t get naked enough to satisfy my lusts. I enjoyed such encounters immensely. But yet, when we were sexing together, Marty just seemed to use me for his jollies and I never felt that my affection for him was requited. I had feelings for him that I didn’t think were mutual. It just seemed that I was a boy toy for him. Yet I couldn’t stop my descent.

I asked him once what he’d do with my testicles if he ever took them.

“I’d mount them on a plaque and openly display them as a warning to future lovers who are tempted to ‘kiss and tell,'” he said.

He insisted that I stay at his house full-time. He wanted me to remain completely naked 24/7, and be ready and available for his sexual needs at a moment’s notice.

Before long, I was beginning to see why famous people were so much different than us regular folks: they didn’t have to punch a time card and occupy their waking hours with the duties of keeping body and soul together. Marty’s demands on my life, my time, my anus and my mouth, began to interfere with my job.

I was soon fired for calling off so many times, and as my bills piled up and my rent was overdue, I became desperate.

My desperation was only met with more aloofness from Marty, who took a “wham-bam-thank-you-man” stance with me. When it became clear that I could not keep up with his sexual compulsions, Marty kicked me out of his house and told me not to return. I was barely able to get some clothes on my back before being shown the door.

Unemployed, hungry, pissed off, and resentful that I had been used and abused, I decided I was going to retaliate. But how? Then I remembered Marty’s “kiss and tell” fear. I called a tabloid newspaper and negotiated an exclusive story that netted me several thousand dollars. In the story I related how Marty had seduced me, was a flaming homo, enjoyed castration play, and was into some BDSM as well.

Yet, Marty’s career potential only escalated from that point on. He was a guest on talk shows, nailed down another recording contract, and was cast for an upcoming new movie that was sure to be a box office success. And in the days subsequent to the tabloid’s appearance in the supermarkets, I was struck with the fact that scandal only seemed to enhance a famous person’s career! That’s another way celebrities are different than the rest of us. Things that would normally obliterate us were the very things that elevated the famous into stellar heights!

I finally had to take a job as a waiter in a nice restaurant, and tried to put my experiences with Armando “Marty” Martinez (stage name) behind me.

Several more weeks passed before the midnight visitation by armed assailants.

***

As the blade begins its brief journey through my scrotum I relive all these events and come to understand that that form I signed in Marty’s house gave my consent to my castration. I realize that Marty is really going to take possession of my testicles and be the owner of all my future orgasms as my masculine orbs are removed from my crotch.

Sweat breaks out on my forehead as my breathing becomes labored. I mumble through my attackers’ hands to please halt. He removes his hand from my mouth. Knowing there was no persuading these intruders to abort their mission of castrating me and delivering my balls to Marty, I say in manic desperation,

“As long as you’re going to cut my balls off, would you please allow me to cum one last time?”

In the darkness of my room, I discern that the intruders are looking at each other and wordlessly considering my request.

“What harm would it do?” Says one. I see in the soft darkness another one nod his head. They still keep my legs pinned to the bed, but one of them frees my right arm.

“Okay, you’ve got five minutes, but we’re going to keep the knife at your balls and if you don’t cum within that deadline, we’re just going to slice them off and you’ll be denied your last cum!”

I frantically and feverishly begin working my soft penis over. It doesn’t respond. In my fear and panic, I worry that I’ll be denied my final orgasm out of the shear horror of my impending emasculation.

I hear the impatient sighs and breathing of my captors. Two minutes pass and I’m not even hard yet!

“Could you help me?” I ask plaintively.

“What?” says one of them.

“Could you insert your finger into my anus and stimulate my prostate? I think I might be able to get this over with quicker if you do.”

One of them jokes, “Can you believe this guy? He’s about to be nutted and he begs us to help him get off one last time!”

I am so desperate and desirous of one last cum that I am reduced to begging my cutters to help me cum before they nut me! I am driven by not only a compulsion to shoot my final load, but to request that my castrators help me with my final shoot! And I am perfectly willing to wank right in front of them and have my sperm eruption be a public event!

Yet even in my disbelief, I am enormously aroused when one of them pushes his finger into my anal hole all the way to the knuckle. My penis leaps a little. I envision that the finger is Marty’s aroused cock seeking a rectal orgasm and my penis grows again. My assailant probes my butt hole and pumps my prostate. My anal ring tightens around his finger and I’m able to wrap my hand around my hardening penis.

I wank for all I’m worth as the clock ticks towards my impending castration. I relive some of the sex encounters with Marty, and his castration play and threats. I recollect his beautiful nakedness, his pulsating penis and spurting sperm. I savor the memory of his lovely puckered, wrinkled anus and the taste, aroma and feel of his butt hole as I tongue him out. I feverishly stroke my fully-hard penis now as I reflect on Marty’s threats to deball me as he yanks my balls as far from my crotch as my stretched scrotum will allow. My butt cheeks are exposed and have been invaded by my assailants. I am as naked now as I’ve ever been. I am strangely enjoying this ordeal having accepted its inevitability.

Just as I’m about to erupt in a seismic orgasm, I feel the knife begin to work again, its sharpness slicing through my soft scrotum, my-soon-to-be-excised testicles at the mercy of the blade. My anus compresses around the finger of my nutter tighter than its ever been. My mind becomes blurred with orgasmic, hypnotic ecstasy. The knife continues my emasculation. My hand works my penis more feverishly now. Deep in my bowels I sense the combination of anal penetration and prostate pounding as my sperm convulsively makes its way from deep within me to my throbbing cock.

I feel the blade about half way through my ball bag as my first spurt of sperm shoots out about a foot in the air and lands on my belly. My cutter pulls on my scrotum harder and I feel as though my balls will be pulled off before they’re cut off. A second and then third voluminous sea of sperm erupts from my penis. My senses are heightened. My breathing sporadic. My eyes become glazed over as the inevitability of my orgasm gushes forth with a torrential flow of cum, simultaneously aware that my balls are being cut from my body at that precise moment!

The severing is complete.

I am all climaxed out now. My balls are held up by my cutter and I see my nut sack and its precious masculine contents in the soft glow of the nightlight. I have been rendered nutless. I am not the man I used to be. I am a eunuch now!

As I contemplate my emasculation, I fully relax my body in an after-orgasm let down. The man’s finger is slowly removed from my butt and the sensations of anal violation prompt me to squirt another small drop of cum. It dribbles from the tip of my softening penis, and streams down my fist which is still wrapped around my male member. The sperm on my belly begins to cool.

Now that I’m unmanned, I’m not a threat to my assailants. They turn loose of me and I sink down deeply in my bed, my hand still holding my penis.

A towel is placed at my crotch to staunch the flow of blood. I am still breathing heavily as I watch my assailants place my severed testicles in a sandwich bag.

“The boss will want to see them,” one of them mutters.

They all exit my room as I lay panting on my bed. I look down at my chest and belly and in the soft glow of the nightlight, I see the glistening globs of my final orgasm pooled there. I have no balls any more, hence I’ll have no more sperm, no more sexual urges, and no more obsessions. But then, it was my obsessions that got me into this predicament, I realize.

Nutless and naked, I contemplate whether getting my rocks off with a celebrity was worth getting my rocks cut off. I conclude that it wasn’t. But the ride I was on that ultimately resulted in my testicles being taken was such a rush, I know I’ll relive the pleasures, the pain, the erotica, and the recollections of it for the rest of my life!

Now that my testicles have been taken, memories are all I’ll have left!

I rise gently from my bed, and dial 9-1-1, remembering what Marty said he’d do with my testicles if he had to take them: mount them on a plaque in his home to display for future lovers who may be tempted to “kiss and tell.”

Be Careful What You Wish For, You Just Might Get It

Steel Pod Chastity Device

I am less than 48 hours from having this chastity device locked on permanently.

 

I’m excited, and very nervous at the same time, and maybe you can give me some encouragement or advice.

 

Click the picture to purchase, I do not make a commission if you choose to buy this.

I am only a day or two away from having the only chastity belt I have never been able to escape from locked on me, and then literally welded closed. I am scared of the unknown, but at the same time, I can’t wait.

One of the first fantasies I ever had, long before I had a chance to meet many people in the gay community, or have the opportunity to explore porn online or in magazines, was having a chastity belt locked on, leaving someone else in control of how long I’d wear it.

20 years ago, I spent a bunch of money on various versions of the standard chastity belts you can find easily.  I discovered that I cold remove all of them so easily, that it essentially became useless to even bother. Then, one day, I was at Mr. S Leather in Los Angeles and they showed me the steel pod chastity device. Because it fully enclosed not just my cock, but my balls as well, once I tried it on, there was no way I could remove it. I purchased it, and had the opportunity to use it from time to time.

Long story short, eventually there came a point in my life where it was stolen, and I haven’t had the chance to experiences chastity belt I couldn’t escape from in years.

Flash forward a few years, and I began my search to find a master who could help me to enter a new life becoming a full time slave. Anyone who has ever tried to find someone online knows that not everyone is who they appear to be. After talking with hundreds of potential masters, I finally found what I believe to have been the perfect situation.

All the arrangements were made, he came to pick me up, and we ran some final errands By later that day, I would be collared, cuffed, chained, and spending every day serving as urinal and service hole for him and the 7 males slaves he’d acquired before me. I don’t know what exactly happened as we had finished out errands and now beginning to heard for his house, but I freaked out, and called it off at the last moment. I was probably a half hour from beginning my new life, and had I made it to that point, I would be past the point of no return. One of the reasons I had chosen that particular master was that I knew that he planned on helping me make the transition from “normal life” to “slave life”.

To this day, not being able to take that opportunity is one of the few things I regret in life.  I tried to reconnect with him a year or so later, but he wasn’t willing to take a second chance.

Since then, I have come across a couple of other opportunities, but those eventually fell apart. I have been sharing my journey with the friend who first introduced me to long term bondage, and eventually we came up with the decision to, in the nearest term possible, give me a start down a path that resembles what I am looking for.

I had developed a plan myself, actually, but it took him a long time to agree to do it. I didn’t realize at the time, but asking someone to lock a chastity belt on you is hard enough. When you are asking them to do so permanently is a lot more difficult. One of the biggest reasons he gave me for originally saying know was that he could not imaging being the person who caused me to never be able to touch myself again. He could not in good conscience sentence me to a fate of eternal blue balls.

One of the reasons I chose this particular friend, is that we have a unique connection that allows him to understand how my brain works, and even though I struggled to to explain how I wanted something that would be a night mare for many.

After he convinced me that he was actually willing to help me do this, we both decided that since one of many “reasons” I had given for choosing to do this was that it was me “punishing” myself for not following through with my commitment with the first potential master, and essentially being noncommittal with the other two, that this needed to happen as soon as possible. That was a couple of weeks ago.

Since I had to order this from the UK, I knew that it might take a couple of weeks to get the money together and then order it via international shipping which I knew  might take awhile. We set a deadline of June 15th for me to place the order,  With time needed to get it here came a July 1 deadline to make myself available to have it locked on.

I’m pleased to say that I was able to order it earlier than planned, so it is scheduled to arrive within the next 36-48 hours. Since I am currently unemployed due to COVID issues, I don’t really have a schedule I must adhere to, so once it actually arrives, it is HIS decision what the actually date and time will be for us to do this, but I fully believe that if arrived tomorrow morning, that I would be locked on me that afternoon.

While throughout this entire time that it has taken to get all the things together we will need to make this happen, I have still felt comfortable that it is the right thing for me, and that I can’t picture myself not following through, I would not be being honest with myself if I didn’t admit that there isn’t a certain amount of fear of the unknown.

My biggest fear is that I will back out at the last minute, and that I will regret it for the rest of my life.

I also know that after this, I will definitely look back at this as a day that changed my life and if at all possible, I want to make sure that, because it’s a literal life changing day, that I make sure that the events leading up to the actual moment the cage is locked allow me to know that I can allow myself to let him lock it on without hesitation.

I am putting this post out on all the places I normally post so that I can keep myself accountable for fulfilling my commitment to taking this step.

Also, I am hoping to hear from those who are currently experiencing either long term or permanent chastity to give me your thoughts. I already know that, anticipating this happening tomorrow, that I am going to spend some time “enjoying myself” today. Once this is locked on, the plan is to literally weld it closed at that point. I know that once this happens, there is no turning back.

Hopefully, through the efforts I am taking to get this post out so I can keep myself accountable by letting as many as possible know my plans, that my outreach finds the person I am destined to have as my master, and that we can start a relationship that is fulfilling for us both.

I plan to create a video of the time that this is locked on for the rest of my life, and I will post it as soon as i am able.

I look forward to hearing any advice that may be our there. Please comment wherever you feel appropriate, or on my blog on the actual post I have there on this.

Thanks in advance, and wish me luck!