Streel Restraint

Chapter One “No. Absolutely not.” “C’mon, Marci. You used to do it all the time for me.” “Yes. I used to. When I was married to you. I don’t do that anymore.” Basil sighed with frustration. They had stayed on good terms, but he knew he was asking a lot of his ex. “Thanks anyway. I thought I’d ask.” He didn’t disconnect the call immediately. Maybe he was hoping for a reprieve. Maybe he was waiting for her to end the call. “Hold on,” Marci said. “What exactly do I have to do?” She still felt a little guilt about their breakup. Technically she had been the one to cheat during their marriage. It wasn’t that simple, of course, it never is. But that was that. “Just hold my key.” “Yeah, I know. And I need you to spell out exactly what that entails because I’m not touching or looking at your junk.” In the pit of his stomach, Basil felt a tiny bit flame start to k****e. “I just need you to hold my key for twenty four hours. Probably less. I can even drop it off for you. I’ll only have to see you when I pick it up.” “Uh-huh.” Marci’s tone was doubtful. “Why? Why so short a period and why me and why are you doing this now?” Basil considered his options and decided to go with the truth. “Because I trust you. Because I only need twenty-four hours.” “Why?” she repeated, not missing that Basil had left out the critical part of the answer. He sighed and confessed all. “Because I have a date and I don’t want to be tempted to do something stupid.” “Like f**k her on the first date?” When she said the words they both immediately regretted it. Basil and Marci had fallen into bed on their first date. The s*x was great. The relationship had started out on a high note and had slowly disintegrated from there, a slow disintegration that took fifteen years. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Think of it this way, if this works out well, you might never have to do this again.” She sighed. “Fine. You can drop off the key anytime at my place. As long as I don’t have to see your c**k or that contraption.” That contraption took Basil more than the usual time to lock onto his c**k, partly because it had been some time since he had last put on his chastity cage and partly because he was so excited by his upcoming date that he kept getting hard which made it impossible to put on since chastity cages were designed to go onto flaccid c***s, not hard ones. He tried ice and thinking about baseball. He considered beating off just to be done with it, but that wasn’t how he wanted to condition himself. In the end, it had to be a cold shower and judicious application of lubricant to get himself soft enough and slippery enough to get inside his cage. It had been too long since he had worn it. While Basil knew it was largely his perception, he was certain that he had grown bigger in the time he had been out of his cage. There was a certain eager anticipation and high-intensity worry in the community that wearing a chastity cage for too long could cause permanent shrinkage of man meat; some men desired this and some feared it all the while knowing—at least among them who were willing to think clearly and logically—that such a thing was impossible. Oh surely, a c**k grew and shrank with the s****l thought and general lust and the temperature, but wearing a steel cage around one’s manhood couldn’t do that. At least that was the logical thought process. Once his cage was on and Basil had firmly clicked the small padlock shut, he exhaled with some relief. He had shaved all his pubic hair off first, which was a process not because he was particularly hirsute, but because getting all the little hairs around his sack and the base of his c**k wasn’t an easy task. Still, he liked the look and feel of being hairless, and it made wearing the cage easier because he wouldn’t get an unexpected hair pull at the wrong moment. He was also certain it made his c**k look bigger. Not that he was into that. After admiring his caged self in the mirror for a minute, he wrapped a rubber band around the padlock to prevent any tell-tale clicking—thank you, Mr. Poe—and proceeded to get dressed. It was supposed to be a date. He dressed nicely, not formally, and once he was ready, he headed out to his ex-wife’s place to drop off the key. She wasn’t home, of course, because she didn’t want to see him, but he put his key into an envelope and dropped it into the mail slot of her door. The thrill of his predicament gave him a burst of blood to his c**k and a pinch of pain. He loved it. Dorothy was a very nice woman whom he had met the way all modern relationships start: on a dating app. Unfortunately the one he had met her on was of the variety that was tamer than most. The ones that were openly kink friendly had too many men and not enough women. Basil didn’t blame women from avoiding them. In person Dorothy was every bit as charming as she was on the messaging app. “Call me anything but Dot,” she told him as they sat down for drinks. They had agreed to a drink first, then maybe dinner. They left the end of the evening open and undiscussed which Basil was fine with because he had no intention of f*****g her on the first date. “Most of my friends call me Baz,” he said. “Do you prefer Dorothy?” She rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. Her thick brown hair was caught back in a casual ponytail, but she carefully maintained her bangs. “No. My parents cursed me with a three-syllable name. Thee or Thena.” Basil was momentarily puzzled. “Oh. Doro-thee.” “Yeah.” “Thee becomes Thena?” “Yeah, it’s supposed to be short for Athena.” She winced and took a sip of her drink. “I went through an obsessive phase in high school. Greek gods and goddesses.” “At least you chose the goddess of wisdom.” She raised his glass to him. “There is that.” “And war,” he added, also drinking. “True,” she smiled. “I don’t get parents these days naming their daughters Aphrodite. I mean, who could possibly live up to her responsibilities: s*x, beauty, and fertility.” “It is a little much,” he agreed. “But maybe not for me.” The date went wonderfully. Dorothy—Thee—allowed Basil to walk her home since she didn’t live far from the place where they had met. The walk was good for him because he had drank and eaten too much and needed to work some of it off. He wasn’t even thinking about the cage around his c**k which was a good sign because he knew that would get him into trouble. Of course when he realized he wasn’t thinking about it, he started thinking about it. It was a vicious cycle. Without even realizing it, Basil had walked Dorothy up to the third floor of her building and she paused at her door. She wet her lips and he noticed that most of her lipstick was gone; too much drinking and eating and talking. “Want to come inside?” she asked, hinting at nothing but implying everything. The question was enough for Basil to get hard, but then he couldn’t get hard because no matter how desperate he became, human flesh was no match for surgical steel. He smiled at her sadly, hoping he was a better actor than he knew he was. “I’d better not,” he said with as much regret as possible. Dorothy was taken aback. “And here I was thinking things were going swimmingly.” She flipped her ponytail off her shoulder. “They are…but I have a strict policy on first dates.” He said it without saying it. “I’ve had a couple of bad experiences in the past with making things go too quickly on the first date and…I’m trying to be more mature.” She twisted her lips and nodded once. “Okay. The goddess of wisdom would probably say you’re playing the long game. But I can admire that. Still, it feels wrong to end this with a handshake.” Her smile, even without perfect lipstick, was more intoxicating than the drinks he had consumed. Before they realized it, they were kissing. Basil pressed her up against the door, feeling her body against his. Her breasts mashed into his chest and she hooked one ankle around his calf. It was much more intimate than either one of them would have guessed. Her mouth was warm and wet; she loved the way he probed his tongue into her. She especially loved the way she could feel his hard c**k even through all the layers of their clothes. He was the one who drew back first because he literally knew there was no way it could go any further. Sure, he could go down on her and please her in a variety of ways, but eventually he’d have to explain about the cage and that wasn’t a first date conversation. “Okay, wow. That’s almost enough to tempt me.” “Almost?” she teased. Basil closed his eyes and forced himself away from her body. “I have willpower that’s like steel.” “That’s not the only thing you have like steel,” she said, flicking her eyes down toward his crotch. If only she knew. Basil walked away regretfully, but confident their second date would end on a different note. The following day Basil went to Marci’s to get his key back. Being in chastity for over twenty four hours wasn’t a big deal to him at all. In the past when they’d been married, he had gone weeks being caged. It was an endurance test he had loved at the time. When he knocked on the door, Marci didn’t answer. Liz did. She wrinkled her nose at him. “What do you want?” “I’m just here to speak with Marci. She has something for me.” Liz leaned against the doorjamb with no intention of letting him in or going to get Marci. “What could she possibly have for you?” “It doesn’t involve you, Lez.” As soon as he had said it, Basil regretted the insult. Liz’s face went from sour to angry in a flash. “You’ve got nothing she wants or needs.” For a short woman she could be extremely loud when she wanted. “Remember she left you for me!” That wasn’t quiet the case but before the argument could get out of hand, Liz slammed the door shut in his face. If Basil’s c**k hadn’t already been tiny and restrained by his cage, it would have shriveled up. He hated that his ex hadn’t just left him, but left him for a woman, Liz. And Liz was exaggerating. Her initial affair was with another woman; Marci just wound up with Liz afterwards. He took in a deep breath and told himself not to pound on the door and make a scene. She had wound up with the house and he still sort of knew the neighbors. Instead Basil took out his phone and calmly texted Marci. Before he could finish the message, the door opened back up. It wasn’t Liz. “You shouldn’t call her Lez,” Marci said. “I know.” “It doesn’t help.” “I know.” “She told me to punish you.” Basil lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? And you do everything she says?” “I’m inclined to do exactly as she asked today. She wanted the punishment to be keeping your key another day.” Basil said nothing. “But I wasn’t sure if that was a punishment or not. You might actually enjoy it.” Basil knew he’d enjoy it more than either Marci or Liz realized. “So what are you going to do?” he asked her. His voice was stiff; his c**k was not—it couldn’t be stiff until he got the key back. Her smile was barely perceptible. “I’m going to keep it a day. Come back tomorrow.” She stepped back into the house and closed the door. While he didn’t drive like a madman, Basil got back to his apartment in record time. He was ashamed and embarrassed at what he knew he was going to do, but he did it anyway. The entire time he was thinking it was only one more day and he could deal with it, but he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. After stripping down, Basil got out the lube and the two vibrators, all the while thanking the machines of industry that ordering such products through sss was incredibly easy and private. The cage wasn’t coming off, not easily at least. But there were other ways for a little release. Both vibrators had well-charged batteries and he tried not to think about what he was doing while he was doing it. A generous dollop of lube went onto the top of the smaller vibrator and he applied just as much to his asshole. This was where he tried not to think about what he was doing. It was too personal and too shameful. The small vibrator easily slipped up into his ass. There was no pain, just the usual hard presence that wasn’t supposed to be there. When he turned on the little device, the thrumming was off-putting for a moment, but then it became an agreeable pulsation. Basil didn’t have to summon up thoughts of unfulfilled fantasies; they were already there. He started to get hard, couldn’t, and the orgasm subsided. He was expecting that. He was used to that. All of the preparation he had been carefully not thinking about his c**k, but now he had to think about it. There was just a little pain—but that was expected and wanted—and while he knew he couldn’t get hard, he knew he could give himself a little relief, just enough to take the edge off. Since he was lying on his back and had raised his knees to his chest to get the vibrator into his ass, it was easy to slowly move the vibrator in and out of his ass by a few inches to simulate getting f****d. He was just looking for an orgasm. Just a little relief. It wasn’t enough. It had been so long and he had built up his need that he was certain he could get off this way, but it wasn’t going to happen. Still keeping his true thoughts at bay, Basil searched blindly for the other vibrator on the bed, found it, switched it on, and pressed it against the hard steel bars of his little c**k cage. The pulse from the second toy were transmitted through the steel bars and then to his fleshy c**k. It started to get hard once again. The second set of vibrations set up a sympathetic response with the toy in his ass. It was all too much to fully contemplate. Basil didn’t have to f**k himself with the ass toy now, it was going to happen whether he wanted it to or not. When he did finally c*m, it was painful. It was like the first time he had ever c*m when he had rubbed himself over and over until suddenly his c**k spit out thick, gluey c*m all over his pajamas and sheets. He didn’t really get hard, but the vibrator in his ass pressed just the right way against his prostate and that combined with the one pressed to his chastity cage caused him to c*m. Once again thick, white, gluey c*m forced its way out of his limp c**k, soiling his cage and spreading slowly over his stomach. It wasn’t fun, but it gave him a tiny margin of relief. He turned off the vibrators, pulled the one from his ass, and staggered to the bathroom for a shower. Cold water washed away most of the c*m and then he carefully directed the showerhead at the cage, taking great care to make sure all the c*m was washed away. It took long enough that he was shivering and shaking before it was over. Only then did he switch over to warm water and thoroughly washed himself. He changed the sheets on his bed, washed his toys in the sink, carefully dried them and put them away, all the while pretending he was doing it for someone else. No one wanted a man who wanted his c**k to be controlled by someone else. No one wanted a man who liked to be f****d in the ass. No one wanted a man who wasn’t in control of himself. It was just one more day. He’d get the key back from Marci. He could have cut the lock off, but that wasn’t the man that he was. One more day.