Ever since I was old enough to ejaculate I’d stroked off at least twice a day if not more. There were times in my teens in early twenties that I’d cum more than a half dozen in a day, and my record that I’ve hit a few times was 15 orgasms in the course of day.
Some might say I was consumed with my own cock and my need to stroke it. I spent hours locked up in the bathroom or my bedroom getting myself off. I know that that my parents knew what I was up to. They just never said anything about it.
So now I’m in my upper 20’s. I’m not bad looking, 6’ tall, brown eyes, cute smile, thick chestnut brown hair. From years of running and playing tennis I’m in great shape, lean, toned, 165, 29 inch waist, I have some hair in the center of my chest and a hot treasure trail leading to my seven and a 1/4 inch dick that is as thick as a beer can.
I’m certainly no virgin. I was jerking off to underwear models in department store catalogs before surfing the web for more sophisticated porn. In college I was sucking cock on the regular and began taking it up the butt on occasion. I never topped, never had the urge and never had my dick sucked, again never had the urge.
Just after college, I began to frequent gay bars more often as I grew into my looks and my gay identity. While I don’t think I gave off stereotypical gay vibes, there was definitely something about me that signaled 100% bottom. I know this because only tops seemed to be interested in interacting with me.
As I became more experienced with men sexually, and began to discover things about myself I didn’t know. I was finding myself attracted to men that were into certain kinks and/or fetishes. Tit torture, CBT, impact play (spanking, paddling, flogging, caning, whipping), bondage, breath play, wax, piss, all things I attempted, most I did enjoy and still engage.
As I immersed myself into the local scene in different fetish groups, I met some amazing men for sure and they were all too happy to help a younger, impressionable lad like me dive deeper into these activities.
And then, I met Cal, short for Calvin, but nobody ever called him that. Cal was a Black man of 50 to my 28. He’d seen me around at play parties and gay bars, but we hadn’t ever hooked up. He was something. He was at least 6’4, at least 50-60 pounds heavier due to his muscled frame, bald, beard, big chest and arms, rippled back. I’d later discover his cock was almost nine inches, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
Cal had just watched me get lashed on my back and backside by a brute of a man. I was hydrating after the scene when he approached me and said I had a fantastic body. His flattery opened the door to other conversation about our respective professions, hobbies, non-sexual interests and sexual interests. We spoke for almost two hours before he asked me out on a date.
That following weekend, it was Friday night, and almost six years ago, he took me out to dinner and great Italian restaurant and our conversation was easy. I’d already learned that Cal was a 100% Dom Top and I revealed myself as a 100% sub bottom. There would be no confusion as to our sexual roles should our dinner date lead to something more.
As we drank an after dinner cappuccino, Cal said he’d love to have me naked in his bed, but he’d prefer if it was the next day as the hour was getting late and we both had long days. He said he wanted to be fully energized for our fun.
The next day, I showed up to his place around 3pm. We were clearly turned on by one another physically. Cal strung my arms up to the rafter in his ceiling and my ankles set in a spreader. He tied my balls down to the furthest stretch possible, put some clamps on my tits and began to flog me from behind. It was glorious.
After our scene, Cal made love to me in his bed and that’s when I learned his cock was definitely a grower, not exactly a shower. Cal and I would meet every weekend for sex and to engage in many more kinks.
After almost a year of playing exclusively with Cal, or at play parties with Cal where he determined who I could play with or what I was permitted to do with these other men, Cal asked me to move in with him.
More months had passed. They say you don’t really know someone until you live with them. That was true about us. I had no idea Cal was so particular about things with many, many OCD tendencies. I had no idea he was obsessed with how his clothes were folded, how the silverware should be stacked, etc. Cal discovered about that I was a serial masturbator. Every time I could steal some alone time, I was jerking off, sometimes many times a day.
What I didn’t know until over six months of living with Cal is that he had hidden cameras in just about every room in his house, even the bathroom. So while I thought I was alone getting off to kinky hardcore pornography, I was being captured on camera.
There were a couple of times when Cal looked to reenact some of the scenes I’d watched. I found that oddly coincidental. But when it happened a third time, I finally asked if he had cameras on me.
He denied it at first. I let it go. But then a few days later, it happened again, like Cal was taunting me.
I confronted Cal again and I demanded to know the truth. I was convinced Cal was hiding something. I knew him well enough by then to see right through his denials.
A couple of days after this confrontation, a small box arrived in the mail with Cal’s name on it. It was not labeled with any clue as to what that box was boxing. I shook it around and couldn’t even fathom a guess.
After dinner that night, after I’d cleaned up and put everything away, Cal called me to the den. He had me sit next to him and that box was on the table.
Cal said he needed to level with me. He said he did have cameras installed all over the house well before I moved in because his last partner was steeling his things to sell and buy drugs which is why they broke up. He said he periodically reviews footage on his phone mostly out of habit and stumbled upon me jerking off three times that day.
Cal went on to tell me that he became interested to see more because he never saw me get off with him and it turned him on to see me like that. That’s when he checked camera footage from almost every day and he was amazed how many times I jerked off, even when he was in the house. He said I convinced him I had an addiction to masturbation, and he was going to help me with that. He said it was unnatural for any 29 year old man to cum as many times as I did.
That’s when Cal told me open the box. Inside was shiny metal cock cage. It looked thick and menacing. I looked at Cal and asked him what I was supposed to do with it?
Cal took the cage and its parts fully out of the box and plastic wrap and said that I should put it on. That this demonic looking device would help me live a healthier life, and even improve my sex life.
I was very hesitant at first. My shaft would be fully covered by a metal sheath! I’d have to quit masturbating cold turkey, I wasn’t ready for that.
Cal said I should trust him and that if I didn’t do it, he wanted me to move out because I don’t listen to him and if I didn’t trust him, we couldn’t be together.
I could not face losing Cal and his Grade A cock so I reluctantly agreed to it. Good for me that I shave my cock and balls almost daily or that contraption would certainly be pulling on my pubes all day. Cal became giddy-like as he pulled a bottle of lotion out of nowhere and rubbed some inside the contraption and then more on my scared and timid cock which had shrunken down to a three inch nub. He pulled my balls through the cock ring and then the metal sheath around my shaft and when I heard the lock click I knew right at that moment I wouldn’t be seeing or touching my cock for a very long time.
Cal obviously hid the keys from me. Those first few days were awful. During the day I found that device pinching and pulling my skin; sleeping was nearly impossible as my cock ached every time an attempted involuntary erection would spring. I was full of anguish and begged Cal for the key contact to find some relief.
After those first few days discomfort transitioned to being in a perpetual state of extreme horniness. Cal enjoyed this phase. I became his cock slave. I was either begging him to let me suck him off or to fuck me every day. When I felt his hard cock in my hands I was sometimes jealous of him. It fucked with my head that I was denied the right to cum at my own free will or to even feel my own penis.
Cal pointed out that since I’d been locked I had become much more productive with my time. I was reading more, working out more, doing things around the house and having more sex with him than before. Cal was not wrong. I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that going to the gym with a shiny metal cage on your junk sure does cause a stir in the locker room, but those are stories for another time.
Over the next six months, I was allowed twenty minutes of supervised cage free time per week for cleaning and shaving. Cal said I could not be trusted yet to complete this task on my own. It was during one of those times that we noticed the skin on my shaft and under my balls became severely chafed.
No problem, chastity had come a long way, innovating new devices that were more comfortable and less likely to cause such irritation. A few weeks later another small box shows up at our door with the mail,
This is roughly eight months after I’d been locked up initially. Cal tells me to stand up next to him and pull down my sweatpants.
Cal removes that clunky, heavy, metal sheath from my penis and pulls my balls from the ring after unlocking the padlock. It always felt weird when my dick was free to dangle, only having those precious twenty minutes per week for the past eight months.
Cal looked at me sternly and said “don’t touch”, as he opened the new box. Inside was a Cobra cage by KINK3D. This was a game changer. A much slicker design with lots of openings to make slight adjustments and a locking system without a padlock. It was pink and looked so cute on me.
This cage was phenomenal for daily wear, no pinching or pulling and I was sleeping better. After going through denial and anger about being locked, it took me almost a year to accept that being locked up was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was ravenous for Carl’s cock all the time. I’ll never forget the first time I came just from Cal pounding my hole. It was insane after nine months without an orgasm. I never felt anything so good in my life.
Cal and I met by chance all those years ago. He has been my mentor, my partner and my Keyholder for all these years. Cal has pushed my limits an in all our kinks and it has been truly wonderful to have someone to do this with without shame.
One of the features of the Cobra cage was that it could accommodate a Prince Albert piercing, and if the PA was round, it could lock a dick up even more securely, no chance of ithe cage slipping off. Cal joked around about it with me for many months before he actually took me to one of his friend’s studios and had me pierced.
I missed the cage for the six weeks I needed to recover. I had strict instructions about not cumming from the piercer, especially the first few weeks when the chance of infection was high. Cal made sure I wasn’t tempted and I was doing hourly check ins while at work. When I was fully healed it was time to secure the Cobra cage again and this time my PA gauge was locked on. No escape. Wow, it hit me hard.
I wore the Cobra cage for years 24/7, 365, and it became natural for me. I never thought about getting hard or touching myself at all. I was still having mind-blowing orgasms, and Cal was happy to provide them..
The inspiration for writing this story actually happened yesterday when another little box was delivered with the mail with Cal’s name on it. I was bursting with excitement. I was sure there was yet another new cage in it for me.
When Cal cane home I begged him to open it, he denied me and said if I didn’t calm down I’d need to wait. One thing about Cal, he never wavered from his character. He was always steady, and even when he was strapping me as part of our impact play scenes, his demeanor rarely changed. Cal was also very sadistic, he got off on watching me suffer physically and psychologically. Cal never ever made an empty threat.
I calmed down and waited patiently for after dinner when Cal opened that box and in it was the new Viper cage by KINK3D. It was black. Cal unlocked the Cobra and he was able to get the PA through. Moments later, the more tapered Viper was secured around my cock and it felt amazing.
I was so horny after hearing the click of the lock that I jumped Cal’s bones. I blew him hard right in that sofa, mounted his dick and rode it until I shot a wild load that sprayed everywhere. Cal knew what he was doing when he locked me up all those years ago. He loved turning me into a sex-crazed animal, only, I wasn’t doing it alone anymore, I was having sex with him. When Cal blew his load inside me, I turned around and kissed him and thanked him for being in my life, for making it better, and for showing me that a locked life is a good life.
