Another new story that I will 100% be continuing and will 101% have long gaps between some post updates. This one focuses on entangling chastity, kink, degradation and pain with love, romance, sensuality and self-discovery.
All the normal warnings and disclaimers about being of legal age to read sexual content and this being gay and kinky. If you can’t read this legally then how about you just don’t?
This chapter has graphic descriptions of pain and abuse, all consensual. They are themes that will continue through the series, but they won’t usually be as intense as this one.
As always, would love to hear what you think and what you’d like to see or what I can improve. Constructive criticism is not only appreciated but encouraged, but if you read it and then leave comments that it’s depraved or wrong or disgusting, I’ll just point out the fact that you read so you must have been enthralled and should get therapy to deal with your internalized kinkshaming.
“Are you sure?” he asked me.
I nodded my head, my stomach doing flips and my heart beating erratically. I did want it without a doubt, but this was a decision I wouldn’t be able to undo. I didn’t know his name. I didn’t have his phone number or any social media. I would never see him again because he was from out of town and just passing through and I was moving the next morning. It was truly permanent.
The gorgeous stranger looked stared at me with an unabashed lusty excitement, then glanced over at his phone on a tripod in the room. He gripped the key tight, then looked back up at my face to find me biting my lip and looking up at him with genuine puppy dog eyes, insanely nervous, totally helpless and perfectly determined. That made the man, fully dressed and standing over me, naked and sitting on the bed, breathe a little heavier.
He was perfect, aroused like he’d never been at the prospect of what he was about to do. A sadist who hadn’t discovered his sadism until he met me, thrilled that he was about to deny me something for the rest of my life, then fuck and use me like an fuck doll before disappearing forever, blocking me on Grindr (I would delete my account just to be extra sure) and leaving me to live with my irreversible decision without any knowledge about him or any way to contact him ever again, just as I’d proposed.
Then he did it. He bent the key in the lock and worked it back and forth, then broke it off. Then he took the electric sander I’d brought to the hotel with me and used it to shave down the key until not a single molecule of it stuck out from the lock.
This sexy stranger had just made my chastity permanent. The black plastic Cobra cage confining my dick was now as much a part of my body as my fingers or eyes or legs. I took my time picking it out since I knew it would be a part of me forever, figuring out which one I wanted the same way someone might think about their first tattoo. I figured the Cobra cage would stay in fashion and knew from reviews that it would be durable and I’d be able to clean myself with it on.
Nobody locked me up. I couldn’t find anybody willing, so I showed up with the cage already locked and the key for the sole purpose of having it broken inside. I was living in this smaller Oklahoma town where gay men were hard to come by, and those I could find weren’t willing to be a keyholder, never mind being attractive enough for me to want them to be my keyholder. So I’d done it myself.
For two years I’d worked hard to make it last longer and longer. When I messaged the stranger on Grindr earlier that night, I’d broken my previous record by lasting six months. Now I was moving to San Antonio and I’d made an extreme, radical decision: I wanted to start my new life with a uselessly locked dick and stay that way forever. Starting now, at 23, my twink boypussy would be my only functioning sex organ for the rest of my life.
He looked at me to find an intoxicating mix of horror and ecstasy making itself apparent on my face. My eyes were tearing up. My mind swung violently back and forth from unparalleled regrets and questions of why the fuck I’d just done that, sat there and had a complete and total stranger who had no feelings for me and wanted to see me suffer permanently lock my dick away, and transcendent joy that I’d gone through with it and would now live the life I’d so thoroughly convinced myself was my destiny. It made him smirk, a devilish expression of sadistic joy and arousal. Wordlessly he moved my right hand to his belt.
I knew what my job was here. He had just sealed my fate. My only purpose in life now would be to suck cock and get fucked, just as I wanted it. I had to practically beg the man to agree to it, and even then he almost backed out when I told him I was in the parking lot. But when he saw me there at his hotel door any doubts were weakened. I handed him the keys to the cage before I even stepped inside, then I immediately stripped when the door closed behind me. Seeing my locked nub melted the last of his reluctance and unlocked the sadism that had laid dormant his entire life.
He made my dream come true, and I was indebted to him for it. There was no denying he had every right to use my body, I’d promised him he could do whatever he wanted to me if he did this, as long as he didn’t kill or scar me or break any bones or cause any other lasting or permanent damage. Even after he was done using me for his pleasure I would owe him. But since we would part ways and preventing any future contact when he was done having his way with my body, I would never be able to fully repay him. I would live the rest of my life indebted to this stranger for his willingness to permanently remove my ability to masturbate, get head or top.
So I moved my other hand up and undid his belt. I could feel his cock in his slacks. Not necessarily big, but it did seem thick. Not that it mattered, this stranger was an angel to me. He could have a micropenis and I would still do everything I could to give him absolute ecstasy.
I pulled his pants and underwear down in one motion. His cock, a thick 6.5 inches, sprang free and he immediately grabbed a fistful of my blonde hair with one hand and my jaw with the other. My mouth was instant wide open. He shoved his cock inside and straight to the back and down my throat. I sealed my lips around his cock and he moved his hand on my jaw to the side of my head, grabbing another fistful of hair, skullfucking me without hesitation.
He fucked my face for about 5 minutes then pulled out and grabbed his phone.
“I wanna video this,” he said.
I hesitated for a second then remembered what he’d just done. It would be another way I could pay him back for making my dick into nothing more than the thing I pissed out of, plus it was a decision that made me a primarily sexual being. My life from this day on would be dominated by perpetual, incurable horniness. My new life would be centered around finding cock to pleasure and I was certain I wouldn’t cum from this. I’d already ridden a dildo earlier in the day and given myself an anal orgasm to make sure of that. There would be no post-nut clarity to make me regret the video. I wouldn’t have any chance of cumming until the video was no longer something I would worry about.
“OK,” I answered.
The stranger flashed that sadistic smile again and started recording as he went back to skullfucking me. I looked up into the camera, realizing after another five minutes that this was likely the first of what would be countless times men would record me. No, it was undoubtedly the first of countless times. Gagging on his dick and straining to keep my aching jaw wide enough to keep teeth off his cock, I felt the horniness in me rise to new levels. Thinking about dozens, maybe even hundred of videos posted on every gay porn website made me so horny I almost felt sick.
When he finished with my mouth and throat, the stranger had a darker look in his eyes. Holding the camera in his left hand, he spat on my face and then smacked it, hard, with his right hand. The slap echoed through the room and my face stung then burned, but I’d given him permission to use me how he wanted and he wasn’t breaking any of the hard limits.
He looked a little uncertain for a moment but quickly recovered, reveling in my pain. He hit me again, then shoved me back into the bed. He climbed on the bed and grabbed me under my arms, moving me back. We’d traded test results earlier and Inwas on prep and had all my vaccines, so I wasn’t worried about STIs. He grabbed the bottle of lube and smeared a conservative amount on my hole and his cock. He wanted this to hurt me. He smacked me again then grabbed ahold of my balls. He lined his cock up and pushed in. I silently thanked past me for riding that dildo earlier because while the ruthless penetration hurt and burned it wasn’t as bad as it would have been were I fully tight.
Then, as he bottomed out inside me, he squeezed my balls. Hard. There was no way to avoid that pain that radiated through my body and paralyzed me. I screamed out and tears began streaming from my eyes. The man moaned in response.
“Fucking locked whore,” he growled. “Fucking take my dick. Let me know how much you’re hurting.”
I couldn’t speak. When he released my balls the pain lingered. He kept drilling me. He slapped me again on the face, then on the chest, then on the balls. Then he tensed up and froze. His cock spawned inside me. He was breeding me, and despite the pain I was disappointed it was over. Who knew the next time I’d get fucked? Not to be conceited, I know I’m stunning. But would there be enough attractive men in San Antonio interested in fucking a sub who can’t get his dick out of its cage, much less get hard?
“I’ll be ready for round two in a minute,” he said. His words were less informative than commanding. “Don’t move a fucking muscle or you’ll regret it, you stupid dickless faggot bitch.”
He left me there crying from the pain but intoxicated by the degradation as he went to the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on, then in less than three minutes turn off. He came out drying himself off. He looked at me there, mostly recovered but still slightly teary, and his cock inflated in an instant. He walked over to me, picking up his phone and turning on the recording as he did, and shoved his cock in my mouth. Fucking me rapidly he tweaked my nipples roughly. I cried out but my voice as muffled by his cock.
Despite having bred me less than 20 minutes prior, he cummed again fast. He pulled out of my mouth and dumped two volleys across my face, one in my mouth, then the other two across my face again.
“Before we cut off all contact, you’re going to go home with my cum on your face and send me a pic of you nude, kneeling on your bed with your hips thrust forward, the hand not holding your phone behind your head and my cum on your face, with a big smile,” he ordered me.
I agreed with a broken voice, figuring that would get us even closer to even, though I would still be indebted to a man who might as well not exist after tonight.
The stranger walked me to the door, picking up my clothes as we went, then opened it and shoved me out, naked with his cum on my face. He threw my clothes on the floor of the hall.
“I’ll never contact you again after you send the pic, and if you ever see me again you’ll pretend you didn’t.”
Then he slammed the door shut. I scrambled to get my clothes, a drop of cum flying off my face to the floor as I did. I looked around frantically, my heart racing, as I put on first my underwear, then my pants, then the button-down shirt I wore. I slipped on my socks then realized he hadn’t given my shoes back.
I knocked on the door, not thinking about anything but getting out of the hotel. But he didn’t answer. I knocked again, then again after another 30 seconds. A door down the hall opened and I looked to see a woman walking out her room. She stared at me for a minute, seeing the cum on my face, then shook her head with an expression of disgust.
My body’s reaction reaffirmed that I’d made a good choice, because despite the humiliation of this 40-something woman seeing cum on my face and being disgusted, being caught like that was insanely hot to me. In fact, I realized, the humiliation turned me on even more.
Then finally the door opened. The stranger was standing there, holding my shoes. The elevator down the hall dinged and the woman stepped in.
“Show me that locked nub again if you want your shoes,” he said, amused and laughing at me.
I took a breath through my nose to prepare myself, inadvertently inhaling cum and then sneezing. He laughed at me again and laughed even harder when i tried to walk into the room to show him my freshly permalocked nub.
“Out here, slut,” he said through laughs.
I turned deep red but couldn’t stop myself from feeling even more aroused. My hands shaking, I looked around and started struggling with the button on my jeans. Cum on my face was embarrassing and would get me disgusted looks and people might even say something about it, but pulling my dick out in public — locked in a cage or not — could get me arrested for public indecency.
It took me longer than it should have to undo the button. My hands were shaking so hard and my hands were so weak that I had trouble with it. I unzipped my pants and tugged down my gray briefs to show him.
“Not good enough,” he said, looking me up and down. I was literally trembling. “Pants and panties down below your ass.”
I felt like crying I was so distressed. Maybe I should just leave and forget the shoes. But I did it. Knees weak and shaking as if they were about to give out on me, I pushed my pants and briefs down below my ass. A bit of cum leaked from my hole and began rolling down my leg. The stranger reached out and took hold of my locked nub and rolled my balls, still sore from how he’d squeezed them, in his hand.
“Christ, I can’t believe this,” he said. His voice was a little shaky now, too. “Never in my life did I even imagine something like this would be so hot.”
Panicking, I looked up and down the hall for people. There were none, but a door could open at any minute, or somebody could step out of the elevator with no more warning than the chime sounding.
“Please…” I whimpered.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll give you your shoes and let you go if you do one thing.”
He was smiling that evil smile again.
“What?” I asked, my voice quiet and strained and cracking.
“You forgot to say sir,” he said, a dark amusement in his voice.
“What s- sir?”
“You need to beg me to crush your balls one last time.”
I swallowed hard. There was no way in hell I wanted that again. The only reason I’d endured it was because I felt the need to repay him for permalocking my dick. Now the cruelty was feeling extreme.
“Please, sir,” I whined, hesitating. He looked deep into my eyes and I felt my stomach knot and my heart pound almost painfull. “Please crush my balls, sir. I really want you to— GAH!”
The pain was like a billion needles stabbing into my entire body. My legs gave out and I started falling. I managed to get my hand on the wall to keep myself off the floor, then he let go. His cock was tenting his boxer briefs again and I prayed to whatever god there is that he wouldn’t make me go back inside for more torture.
He grabbed his crotch and then tossed the shoes out into the hall. I spun to look at them and felt his hand on my back. He shoved and I fell forward. The door slammed shut behind me and I scrambled to get my pants up despite the residual pain coursing through me. I got my shoes on and got in an elevator. I tried to take a side door but it was locked, so I had to leave through the front door. The guy at the desk, obviously gay, flashed me a knowing smile that made me blush once again. My awkward stride from the aching soreness in my balls probably made him think I’d just been pounded so hard I couldn’t walk right.
I made my way home, not cleaning the cum off my face, though I didn’t know why. It was mostly dried at this point but still obviously there. I got inside, thankful my parents were asleep, and made it to my room. I stripped and got on my bed, kneeled, thrust my hips forward, put my right hand behind my head, held my phone up with my left hand and forced a genuine-looking smile. I took the pic and sent it to him. Not even a minute later, the Grindr chat disappeared. He blocked me, likely right after saving the pic.
I deleted my Grindr profile just to be certain he wouldn’t be able to unblock and contact me (I would make a new one in San Antonio) and then went to the bathroom across the hall to finally shower and get all the dried cum off my face and out of my hole.
I woke up the next day with a body sore all over. My balls were still sore, my voice still strained. I quickly finished packing then went out and loaded the ten boxes into my car. I moved back in with my parents after getting my degree in marketing and I had to get away. They were oppressive, religious homophobes.
The car loaded, I took off for San Antonio. I owned my car and phone, had my own phone plan, nothing was left to tie me to my parents. I didn’t want them to file a missing persons report so I copied a long message I’d written in my notes, telling them I’m gay and I hate them and never want to hear from them again and won’t go to their funerals, then blocked both their numbers. When I got to San Antonio I would change my number. My friends would get that number, but only the ones who wouldn’t share it with my parents or with anybody else who would share it with them.
As I drove, I thought back to the night before. I slipped my hand in my running shorts and felt the cage around my cock. It would be there for the rest of my life, a knowledge that made my poor pathetic nub try pointlessly to get hard. It gave up quickly. After six months in perpetual chastity, it knew there was no hope. I gently massaged my aching balls.
Thinking back to the night before, I had no regrets. The stranger was not the type of man I would ever want to be with again, but I couldn't help feeling thankful and still indebted to him. How many people can say a stranger made their life’s dream come true? That’s worth a lot.
But I knew then and there that I would never again be with a man who was that cruel and sadistic. I’m a submissive masochistic faggot slut; it was such a big part of my identity and I wasn’t ashamed of it. I love being degraded and abused and humiliated, but I have my limits. And while he couldn’t be blamed because I had given him near-carte blanche to do whatever he wanted, as long as it didn’t permanently damage me.
The ball crushing may have destroyed my fertility, but it wasn’t like that mattered anyway. I had no interest in having kids and even if I did my desperate decision to become a locked sub removed that ability well before he squeezed my balls. But ball torture would definitely be getting added to my list of hard limits, at least to that extreme.
The drive was fairly uneventful. My horniness came in extreme waves, spurred on every time I noticed the weight of my cage or thought about my decision to keep it on permanently or pondered about what my sex life would be like in San Antonio or how I’m such a cock hungry slut or even replaying the less traumatic parts of the night before.
Eight hours later I was parked in front of my new apartment. It was a decent place in a decent part of town. Not mind blowing, but safe and clean and comfortable. The company had given me a moving stipend and the apartment agreed to open the door for the guys delivering my furniture. I picked up my key and took a couple of boxes inside, up the elevator and walked into my new place. My couch, TV stand, TV, bed, kitchenware, desk, desk chair, coffee table and two nightstands were all in place.
OK, so yes, the moving stipend was pretty good. I used that plus some of my savings to pay extra for them to set up all the furniture, and they did a good enough job with it. I dropped off the boxes then got the rest in. When it was all done I was so exhausted I had trouble keeping my eyes open. The door closed and locked behind me, I stripped at the door and threw my clothes in the washing machine there.
I went ahead and unpacked the rest of the clothes and put five days worth in the coat closet at the entry, then put the rest away in my actual closet. I decided the day after I signed the lease for this apartment that I would be completely naked there at all times, the only exception being if I had someone over who either wasn’t a hookup or was a hookup who wanted me to have clothes on when I opened the door.
When all of that was done it was time for a quick shower, then I made my bed, laid down and created my new Grindr profile. Overcome by sexual energy and exhausted, I decided I would be an unashamed slut. I put two face pics and two pics full-body pics that clearly showed my face (one with me fully clothed and the other of me in a jockstrap. I put my full, real first name, Sebastian — I’d always used an alias or just my first initial in the past — and then wrote out a quick bio.
23
sub in permanent chastity, so my hole is my only functioning sex organ
open to most things, but if you’re unsure just ask
would love to try group, i haven’t even had a theeesome yet
ddf, on prep, all vaccines, please be the same
have a face pic or send one
What I didn’t say would be clear in the picture. I’m white with soft, lightly sunned skin, lean muscles and a body built meticulously to make me appealing to the most men possible, standing about 5-foot-11, dark brown (almost black) hair faded on the sides and medium length and swept to the left on top, milk chocolate brown eyes with specs of gold, threaded brows, clean shaven face, hairless body, tight pink hole, taut ass, tight balls, full dark pink almost red lips, pearly white teeth, well proportioned and pierced pink nipples and a delicious thigh gap.
I finished setting it up then started scrolling through, too tired to actually message anyone so instead just checking it out. It was immeasurably better than that small town in Oklahoma. Even better than my college town, which compared to this city was actually still pretty small. I favorited a few guys I would wanna try to link up with later and fell asleep as I was looking.
The next day I got up, finished unpacking and set up profiles on a few other apps and sites. Tinder (yes, despite being a cumhungry slut I did still want to find a partner and I’ve always had the best luck with Tinder for that, it just might be a little more difficult since he would have to be OK with my cock cage and regularly sharing me with hookups), Recon, Sniffies, Fetlife and Hinge (just for the hell of it).
Something about knowing I was permanently locked made me hornier than usual. Being locked up for six months had helped me reduce the frequency and intensity of blue balls, but that afternoon after I’d eaten a salad for lunch (I already kinda knew what I wanted to do so I ate a salad because it’s bottom-friendly) I found my balls aching. It wasn’t because of the crushing the night the key was broken in my cage and I was abused; I knew because they were back to normal that morning.
So I douched, showered and then went to my bedroom, posed for some nude pics on my bed using a phone tripod I’d brought with me, then took some more in front of a full length mirror, then set my phone up and road my dildo, taking videos and pictures. I got some ass pics, hole pics, nub pics, everything I could think of. Opening up Grindr, I uploaded all 38 pictures and five videos to my private album and then went to the profile wall. I was surprised at how quickly I found someone. I tapped a hot jock, a white guy with a slight tan, brown hair and green eyes and sexy muscles.
“lemme see your nub,” he said in the first message. I sent him the whole private album.
“damn”
He sent back pics of his cock. Now, I know most dick pics out there are honestly kinda gross. Guys who don’t think about lighting or angles, don’t do any grooming, just generally have no awareness of the unappealing and sometimes plain revolting presentation in their pics. This guy was not one of them. His cock was, to put it simply, pretty. It was circumcised and while I normally prefer uncut it worked well for him. There were a couple of visible veins, the head was a beautiful pink mushroom, great length to girth proportions, shaved and proportionate balls, neatly trimmed pubes, the shaft and balls just a touch lighter than the rest of his sunkissed skin. He obviously tanned nude.
The whole thing looked delicious. Hard as steel yet silky smooth, judging by the pictures. He had one with a ruler, showing he was a neat 7 inches, another with a Monster can showing he was thick but not so much it would be impossible to service him with my mouth and it wouldn’t hurt too badly in my ass, especially since I’d used the dildo for the pics.
This may not make much sense, I don’t know, but for me there are some cock heads that just look so good that I want to slowly, passionately kiss them, feel their smoothness on my lips, their pliability. His was just that. Looking at the picture gave me a strong, primal urge to feel the head on my lips, the shaft on my tongue, as much of it as he could fit into my throat, which knowing my cock sucking skills was all of it.
“that’s an awesome cock,” I wrote back.
“you wanna taste it?”
“you can’t even understand how much i want to”
We talked a minute longer about me hosting, what parking was like, the fact that I was clean for bottoming, that he liked pissing on guys but I wouldn’t do it (he was OK with that) and then traded our most recent STI test results, both of us being clean.
“you want anything special?” I asked.
“what do you mean?”
“like do you want me to meet you in the parking lot? have any toys ready for you? anything?”
“oh,” he responded. Then a second later, “you wanna answer the door naked and take off my shoes and jacket in the doorway?”
“yes sir”
He told me a couple minutes later he was on the way. I tidied up the apartment, not that there was much to tidy up, and then got the lube out. I had two bottles, so I put one on the coffee table in case he wanted to fuck me on the couch and another on a nightstand for if he preferred the bedroom.
I was sitting on the couch nervously fidgeting, my need to be used so strong I couldn’t sit still. It was 15 minutes after he left that there was a knock on the door. I jumped up and rushed over. I was so eager I forgot to look through the peep hole before opening the door wide and standing there with the closest thing to clothing on my body being my chastity cage. Luckily it was him, and he was just as stunning as his photos. The look of awe on his face as looked over me, pausing as he looked at my caged dick bobbing in vain attempts to get hard, made me proud. I’d worked hard to make my body into a tool I could use to seduce and please men.
My body was muscular while still twinkish. I made it into a figure that could belong to a squealing fragile femboy or a slutty androgynous fag or a softboy boyfriend or a bro who just wants to suck his friend’s dick and get fucked. While my true personality was somewhere between slutty androgynous fag and softboy boyfriend, I could pull off just about any personality a man is looking for, and as long as he didn’t want a beefcake or a bear my body would match it. It took meticulous dieting, exercise and grooming.
Because I was a locked sub I had absolutely no body hair, which may not be something that appealed to all men but was just a little something for me. Some men would see it as erasing my manhood (as if anything could do that more effectively than permanent chastity) but for me having a hairless body was something that turned me on. My pubes and balls had been laser treated before I got myself locked up and I waxed and shaved everything else.
The stud in my doorway seemed to like it. I could see in his slacks that his cock was semi when he got to my door but now it was fully hard. I was starting to get nervous after about 30 seconds when he didn’t move to walk in. The door was wide open and any of my neighbors could walk by and see me clearly naked holding open the door. They might even notice the precum drooling from my nub. But my hookup didn’t seem to care, and I was determined to craft myself into a good submissive lockedboy who listened, obeyed and never took initiative based on my own desires, only based on those of the Alpha I was serving. So despite the fact that as it got to a minute I was starting to feel my hands tremble, I didn’t move. I just stood there and let him examine my nude form. The cold air bit at my bare skin as it flooded through the open doorway
“So,” he said, his voice deep and just slightly horse.
I looked at him expectantly and he returned the expression. Another few seconds and my expression turned to confusion as he raised his eyebrows.
“You gonna take my jacket?” He asked.
I let out a quick “oh” and took a half step forward. He turned and I took the black jacket off and stepped back.
“Wanna invite me in?”
“Please, come in, sir,” I said. He smirked and stepped in. When the door finally closed behind him I felt an insane thrill as the anxiety dissipated and gave way to the excitement of being so close to discovery. I knelt down and untied his shoes, took them off and set them aside.
“I don’t have a lot of time right now so I’m really just going for a bit of head and a quick pump and dump,” he told me, walking into the apartment even as I was still on my knees and took a seat on my couch. “I wanted to stay and take my time with your body and get to know you a little when we’re done but I got a call from work on my way over.”
I stood as he was speaking and walked toward him. He undid his pants and pushed them down to his ankles, raising his ass off the couch for a second, as I approached, his cock slapping against his shirt-covered torso. He pulled the shirt off as I went back down to my knees in front of him. God, he was so sculpted. And his cock was great. I used my index finger at the base of his shaft to push it up. I wanted so badly to take my time and kiss and lick and suck and choke on it but he was in a hurry and I reminded myself that I’d made the decision to become a submissive cockhungry cumslut, and while I wanted a full-time long-term (lifelong would be even better) dom I didn’t need one to start training myself to be a sub.
So I just took his cock in my mouth and went right down to the root. He let out a surprised groan and put his hand on my head, wrapping his fingers in my hair, not putting any pressure or pulling but just holding my head as I swallowed around his cock and then bobbed up and down.
I only got about three minutes to savor him in my mouth before he wordlessly and gently pulled me off him by the hair. His hands went under my arms and he pulled me to my feet and helped me straddle him on the couch. Leaning forward he grabbed the lube from the coffee table, smeared a bit on my hole then thinly coated his cock. I took hold of it and sat, my eyes half lidded as I let out a long, almost inaudible moan while I felt myself sink down onto him.
I started riding quickly, using my hole muscles to massage his cock. I was honestly disappointed that it wouldn’t be a long session but wanted to please him as quickly as possible. And short fuck or not, feeling his shaft stretching me and massaging my g-spot and pushing deep inside me was wonderful. I got goosebumps every time I bottomed out on him and despite the waves of pleasure making my eyelids heavy I managed to open them and gaze into this strangers eyes as I worked my ass to coax his load out and into me.
His eyes were deep and lusty, emerald green and big. A smirk played across his face when his mouth wasn’t open wide from the pleasure of sliding in and out of my hole, enjoying my silky bussy. His minty breath was warm on my face. His hands were both on my hips until one slid up my tight back, over my neck and into my hair. He took a fistful of hair and gently guided my lips to his. He was getting close already; I could tell because he’d started taking some of the initiative with sloppy and ragged thrusts attempting to match my up and down. My legs weren’t even starting to burn yet as his tongue slipped into my mouth and started exploring.
I wasn’t ready for it to end and wanted to pull off his mouth and beg him to blow off work, but I wanted to become the kind of boy who believed it wasn’t his place to do that. Even if it meant basically brainwashing myself.
When the hand still on my hip tightened its grip and he shoved me down, I moaned into his mouth. His cock twitched inside me and I felt the warm cum flooding my pussy. His hand in my hair grew tighter and he pulled just a little bit, his mouth opening wide as he whined out a masculine moan. His muscles contracted. My hands previously on my thighs gripped his strong biceps and I felt them twitch.
It will sound crazy to someone who has never been in chastity, I know. But I absorbed all of his displays of pleasure and felt it radiate through me, giving me a type of orgasm that while not as much a release was just as powerful as cumming. It’s like the man topping you is a sieve and I soak up all that pleasure and passion and energy that gets through.
When he finished dumping he started kissing me again, his still-hard cock lodged inside me and softening so slowly it was almost imperceptible. He seemed to have forgotten in the afterglow of his orgasm that he was short on time. When he remembered, he stopped the kiss, our lips still locked but unmoving for a minute, then pulled back and stared at my face.
“You’re super cute and I would love to stick around, get to know each other and maybe go for round two, but I have to get going,” he said. “You wanna do this again?”
I realized it would be the first time I spoke a full sentence since he got here.
“I’d love that,” I said, adopting my casual and androgynous personality in my voice. “You just let me know when and I’ll do my best to be free.”
Still sitting on his cock, I felt one hand slide down from my hip to my ass and the other loosen its grip on my hair and start playing with it.
“That sounds great,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
He helped me stand and started putting his shirt on while I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a clean, soft hand towel and ran it under hot water. I walked back to him as he was starting to put his pants on and knelt in front of him.
“Can I clean the lube off for you?” I asked.
I have water-based lube because it helps a man get his cock inside me but dries a little bit, much faster than silicone-based line, and allows more friction. That almost always feels better to the man fucking my boypussy and usually feels good to me. Looking up at him, he nodded down at me. I took his cock, still about 75% hard, in my left and and gently wiped it down with the warm wet towel. I didn’t know how sensitive he would be after cumming so I was careful not to cause any discomfort. When I was done I looked back up at him and opened my mouth, silently asking if I could give him one last suck. He pulled my head toward him gently and I took it into my mouth, swirling my tongue as I swallowed him to the base, then pulled back and wiped it off one more time.
When he was dressed again, I walked him back to the door, put his shoes on his feet then put his jacket on. He looked at me again, standing there nude with his cum starting to leak out of my pussy and roll slowly down my thigh, and smirked.
“You were a great fuck,” he said. I felt so proud. “Thanks. By the way, my name is Shawn.”
It dawned on me that this only the second time, and the second time in a row at that, a man had fucked me without me knowing his name. I reiterated that my name is Sebastian, but I go by Seb, and said he was an awesome top and that he blew my mind (it wasn’t totally true he’d blown my mind but it made him feel good).
With that, he walked out the door and shut it behind him. I said his name a few times as I walked to the bathroom, hoping I’d get to see him again and moan that name, tell him how good he was, how great his cock feels and luxuriate in being used. I hoped he was serious about doing it again and not one of those men that say they want to and then block you right away.
I took a quick shower when he left and then got back on the apps. Shawn’s fuck and orgasm had been surprisingly satisfying despite its brevity (in total he took about 15 minutes to cum, from the moment I got his cock in my mouth to the moment he finished) but a pseudo orgasm from experiencing a top climaxing inside of you doesn’t keep you satisfied as long.
I decided to go to Tinder. I set it up with tamer photos, three of them shirtless and one of those with me in a speedo and the rest fully clothed, and filled out a more comprehensive bio about me being a recent college grad new to the area. The most important disclosure had to be handled delicately so I wouldn’t violate any rules. I settled on a brief sentence.
“i’m permalocked (ifykyk) so if that’s a deal-breaker totally understandable for you to swipe left.”
I also said I would only be looking for an open relationship, would be fine with friends and people to show me around San Antonio, like romance as much as kink and want to build a real connection.
I set up the other dating profiles the same way then went back to Tinder. I started swiping, knowing this would not be the app for a quick hook up to satisfy my mounting lust but figuring now would be as good a time as any to find a long-term dominant partner. After about 20 minutes I grabbed a battery-powered dildo that while leaving a lot to be desired could fuck me by itself, laid on my bed, shoved it in and went back to swiping. It didn’t cure my lust and may have made it worse, but it was giving me a steady stream of pleasure.
There were plenty of hot men in San Antonio. I swiped right on Eric, a tall and muscular white guy three years older than me with blonde hair and blue eyes who said in his profile that he is “wild,” knowing that was probably an exaggeration but optimistic nonetheless.
Ryan, a white twink my age whose cock imprint in his tight jeans gave away gave credence to the facetious stereotype that skinny boys can eat all they want because it goes straight to their dick, got a right swipe from me. He had tattoos and in one photo of him on his bed I saw restraints attached to his bedposts, almost unnoticeable and nearly overlooked by me. The restraints were promising, but he didn’t say if he was top or bottom and I couldn’t tell from the way he looked.
Eduardo, a Latino stud also my age, looked pretty vanilla but was hot and might want to try fucking a chastity slut at least once, so even if it just a one-time hookup it would be fun.
Mike, a light skinned Black man with kind eyes who in his first photo had a devious smile and hinted at some kinks in his bio, seemed promising.
Noah and Danny, a couple looking for a steady third, sounded like fun. Both were a couple years older than me. Noah was half-Latino half-white and Danny Vietnamese-Japanese (it said so on their profile). According to the bio, they were both mainly tops and while they bottomed for each other were looking for a partner to join them either as a regular third or a steady throuple partner.
Isaiah was Latino, one year older, looking for a regular friend with benefits who likes it rough. He was lean and about my height, with glasses that made him look nerdy and sexy.
Angel, a Latino man two years younger, had a full sleeve of line work tattoos on his right arm and flowers in the same style on his right pec, all of his muscles bulging but not bulky. His bio said that he’s into things “that not everybody can vibe with” and that if guys matched he would tell them more.
None of them, or any of the other less promising or enticing men, were an immediate match. Except Angel.
We marched right when I swiped right. The first message he sent made my whole body tingle.
“hey so i wanna get to know you as a person and not just a sexual being (def wanna get to know that side of you too), but i’m too curious and wanna know more about what you’re into. wanna just go straight to snap?”
Author note: Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! As always, I’ll endeavor to get updates to the story for you soon but appreciate your patience if it takes a while. Would love to hear from you: what you liked, what you wanna see in future installments, what I can do to improve.
