Confessions of a Melbourne Chastity Dancer: the Last Dance

LockedForFun posted a fun tale of meeting someone through an interesting side hustle.

 

I was one of the Melbourne Chastity Dancers back in my twenties. We weren’t really from Melbourne – there was only one of us I thought was even Australian, and he turned out to really be a Saffer. I’d probably get in trouble in both Australia and South Africa for it, but I could never tell their accents apart, and neither could the women we danced for. They all though he was an Aussie too.

Melbourne was the market branding Trina came up with, international but not too international. Trina ran the show. That’s her stage name, by the way, I don’t think I ever learned her real name. She had I suppose a fairly typical career for the industry. Stripper at 18, doing porn at 20, bondage model at 23, professional Domme at 30. When she was pushing 40, she came full circle back to stripping, only she wasn’t the one stripping now, she was the one running the business. We were the strippers – a bunch of guys entertaining women at bachelorette parties, birthdays, or other occasions where they wanted to look at buff, nude guys. The gimmick Trina came up to make the Melbourne Chastity Dancers special was the chastity part - we started off the show all locked in chastity cages. As our pants came off and the women saw the cages, they always squealed, shrieked and whooped.

We would dance and let the women feel and grope us for a while. Most of them loved holding our caged packages, and you needed pretty good pain tolerance for having your balls squeezed – there was always at least one woman in the audience who couldn’t resist squeezing. I actually enjoyed that part, but most of the guys didn’t like it. Trina, ex-Pro Domme that she was, always told them men has paid her good money to do far worse, so suck it up and let the girls have their fun.

Later on in the show, keys to our cages would be randomly handed out to the women, and they would spend some time trying to figure out who had who’s key. Once a woman found the guy her key worked on, she could unlock him and play with his newly freed cock. He was hers for the rest of the party. We weren’t supposed to cum while we were locked up (and that was hard for me when a woman who really like to get rough got hold of my balls), but once we were unlocked, the women could make us cum if they wanted. Most of them did, they liked the power of making a random guy shoot his load, especially after they’d just freed his cock from a metal cage. It was a gray area legally, letting them touch us, but Trina knew how to work such things. I always meant to ask her about it, learn from her, but never quite got around to that before, well before. We’ll get to that.

Anyway, Trina herself recruited me from the gym we both worked out at. I’m tall, and even though I’m still in pretty good shape these days, it’s nothing like I was back then. In my twenties, metabolism working for me, and only a couple of years removed from playing college water polo, I was very buff. Trina didn’t have any trouble walking up to strangers and talking to them about anything and everything, so she didn’t beat around the bush or go through a bunch of small talk, she just came right out with the offer as I was toweling off by the pool in a pair of Speedos and feeling sexy about myself.


“I run an exotic male dance troupe – male strippers, like the Chippendale guys. We do bachelorette parties and the like. You’ve got a perfect body for it. I pay well, if you want the job.”

I wasn’t quite as bold as she was, it took me a while to believe what I’d just heard. But we talked a bit, and she convinced me to sign up. I supposed it didn’t hurt that she had her Pro Domme vibe going, and I found that intriguing. She left the chastity part out until the very end though, when I’d already been basically talked into the gig. The idea was a bit shocking, but exciting too. I didn’t really need convincing, but Trina talked it up anyway, really sold it as getting the customers worked up and excited. And she was right.

Back then, the hot thing in town was women throwing “re-launch” parties for a friend coming off a divorce or breakup with a long-term boyfriend. The chastity angle was a huge win when the break-up in question happened because the guy had cheated on her. There were always lots of comments like “Too bad you didn’t have Mark in one of those,” but I have to admit I was always a little conflicted by that type of party. Half the time, the divorcee seemed more like she was faking her enthusiasm and it was her friends who were enjoying themselves, using her romantic train wreck as an excuse to party with some naked guys. But when the aggrieved woman was into it? Oh, those were fun parties.

 

It was a party like that where I met Erica. It was for her friend Sue, who everybody said had terrible luck with men, but when they said “luck” I think they really meant “judgment.” Anyway, the party had started out pretty hot. Sue was into it, and that always gave the shindig a better energy than when the guest of honor was mopey or reserved, which some women can be around naked guys. I’d noticed Erica early on, being tall myself I always notice tall girls, and I tried to subtly gravitate towards her in my dances.

It never seemed to work very well. There were a dozen girls, and – not to brag or anything - I was always one of the popular dancers, and Sue in particular liked me. Since she was the guest of honor, I felt like I had to give her the attention she wanted. I did make it around to Erica a couple of times early in the night, and she somewhat shyly felt up my caged package. It brought a smile to her face, one of those thoughtfully, slightly wicked ones the best girls sometimes get. But we never had a chance to say much to one another, not over the loud music and with the other girls hooting, hollering, and groping.

It was later, during the “treasure hunt” part of the party where the girls got their keys and tried them out, that we finally started to talk. What happens during this part of things is all of us guys line up – we’ve been completely naked except for our cages for a while at this point – and Trina hands out a key to every woman who wants to try her luck. Then the women with keys pair up with us to go off to a semi-private area where they can enjoys some more feels and gropes before trying their key in our lock. If the key works and unlocks us, like I said above, they get to claim the guy as theirs for the rest of the party. If their key doesn’t work, then every guy and girl who still haven’t found a match rotate and we try again.

Six women asked for keys at that party, and Erica was one of them. I was hoping she would be, and I was hoping she’s end up with my key, but such things were always up to chance. There were only four of us dancers that night, so two of the girls secretly got dummy keys that wouldn’t work in any lock. Oddly, I hoped that if Erica didn’t get my key, that she got one of the dummies. I’d never felt that way before, but I didn’t want her “winning” one of the other guys.

Sue claimed me as her first partner, and used me to get herself pretty worked up before trying her key. It didn’t work, and she was disappointed, but I caressed her bottom to console her and whispered that I knew she had one of the working keys, that Trina always made sure the guest of honor got a real key.

“But don’t tell anyone,” I whispered. “Don’t want any of your friends to think it was rigged.”

Sue seemed happy to know she was going to unlock some guy, even if it wasn’t me. Myself, I was happy there was still a chance Erica would unlock me. But first there was another girl, I don’t remember her name, a bubbly, sloppy sort of blonde who’s curves were in constant rebellion against her clothes. Her key didn’t work either, but I did hear Sue let out a whoop as she unlocked Max, our Saffer. I suppose he was an okay consolation prize for her. Then it was time to rotate, and I found myself staring at Erica.

She was staring at my locked cock.

“Have you ever seen a guy in a chastity cage before?” I asked, finally having a chance to say something.

“Only on the Internet,” she said. “Does it hurt?”

“Not in a bad way,” I said. “I mean, it can get pretty tight if I’m, y’know, aroused, and it’s a little uncomfortable, but not in a bad way.”

She carefully took hold of it, handling it like it was a porcelain heirloom she was afraid to drop. “You’re trying to get hard now, aren’t you?” She asked.

“Tends to happen when a beautiful woman is holding my balls,” I said. She blushed a little. But just a little. She handled my steel-restrained package a little more confidently.


“You get fondled a lot, I suppose,” she said. “At parties like this.”

“Yep, part of the job.”

“Do you like it?”

“I do,” I said.

“How does it work? Do you just wear this for the party, or are you in it all the time? I’ve read some guys wear them long term?”

“Just for the parties,” I answered. “Trina has us lock up just before we leave in the van.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a little disappointed. “Maybe guys don’t really get locked in them for all that long.”

“Oh, I think they do,” I tried to reassure her. “I’ve never worn this for more than a few hours, but I think I would be able to wear it long term. At least from a comfort standpoint. Might drive me insane from a sexual standpoint though.”

She nodded, and seemed to be thinking about something as she gently caressed the cage and my balls. Suddenly, there was a commotion from the front of the club and we both turned to look.

There were shouts, and then camera flashes. I looked up to see several people with cameras swarming past the bouncer and into the club, taking pictures of the dancers and the guests. Erica and I were towards the back, away from where the initial swarm was happening. She let out a muffled shriek and let go of my package.

“Get me out of here!” she said, grabbing my arm. “Please get me out of here! I can’t have my picture taken.”

 

I looked around. There was a hallway to the bathrooms just behind us, so I grabbed her and pulled her through the door. I saw a sign that said “Parking” and followed the arrow. It went around a corner and down a half flight of stairs. Through the window in an industrial type door I could see an underground parking lot. I pulled the door open and we stepped through.

A flash went off in our faces. A guy was standing there with a camera. Erica shrieked. I punched the guy out of sheer reflex and grabbed the camera from him as he fell. Erica was running towards a stairway at the other end of the small garage. “This way!” she yelled.

I started after her, the realization I was running though a public parking garage wearing nothing but a rather small stainless steel chastity cage making me slightly dizzy. But the adrenaline kept me moving and I caught up with Erica.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Did you get his camera?” she said, ignoring my question.

“Yes.” I held it up for her to see.

“Thank you,” she said as we reached the door to the stairway. She took the camera and kissed me. “My apartment is in this building. The garage connects to the club. These are the back stairs, I should be okay now.”

I looked back towards where we’d exited the club. The guy I’d punched was slowly getting back to his feet. He was bigger than I’d realized, and had a sort of mafia look to him. When another big goon-looking guy joined him from inside the club, I had no desire to go back that direction. Especially not while I was naked and caged.

“Can I go with you?” I pleaded, pointing back towards the club. “I’m not going to be popular back there.”

Erica nodded. “Quick, before they see us.”

We slipped through the door and I let it close slowly to not make any sound. I could see the two guys through the window. The guy I’d hit was shrugging his shoulders. The other guy pointed at the exit ramp of the garage, the one that led onto third street. He moved that direction while the first guy stood by the door to the club, rubbing his chin and looking pissed off.

We were in a stairwell and Erica began bounding up the stairs. She had long legs and was pretty athletic. I followed, my cage bouncing freely with every step and making my balls feel it’s weight. By the fifth floor I was getting a little winded, or maybe my poor balls just needed a break. She turned and looked at me. I was glad to see she was breathing heavy too.

“Only one more floor,” she said. We both heard a door somewhere below us open and footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Erica’s mouth moved in a silent “Let’s go!”

We kept going as quietly as we could, not sure who was in the stairwell. It could be our plug ugly friends, or just another tenant. Either way, I didn’t really want to run into anybody and figured the cage could yank on my balls a little while longer. We got to the sixth floor and Erica slowly opened it. She peered into the hall beyond and whispered “It’s clear, let’s go.”

We stepped out into the brightly lit hall, her wearing tight designer jeans and a rugby style top, me naked as a jaybird with a gleaming stainless steel chastity cage locked on my cock. We moved quickly but quietly down the hall, Erica leading the way, pulling me by my hand, and the cage swinging slightly uncomfortably between my legs. The door behind us finished closing with a soft click. We came to an elevator lobby.

“My apartment is in the other wing,” she said quietly. “Other side of the elevators.”

She began to lead me across the elevator lobby, then suddenly turned and pushed me back the way we’d come.


“People!” she hissed.

The click-clack of heels on marble sounded from in front of us as the elevator dinged. Erica looked at me, panic in her eyes. I couldn’t think of anything to do except hope whoever it was went the other direction and never looked back.

No such luck. Two smartly dressed middle aged women walked around the corner from the bank of elevators and turned straight towards us. They stopped in their tracks when they saw me. Both of them of course stared at my crotch, at the cage there. I thought about covering myself with my hand, but somehow it seemed that would make it even worse. Instead I looked at them and gave them what I hopped was a perfectly normal, pleasant smile any stranger would give someone they met in an apartment hallway. They looked like they were sisters. One of them continued staring at my cage. The other gradually looked me up and down, the sort of ‘appraising meat’ look I’d gotten used to as a male stripper. Then she looked at Erica. Erica was trying to disappear into the wallpaper.

“Well done,” she said to Erica, smiling slightly. “But you’d better hurry up and get your friend inside your apartment before you run into someone who doesn’t appreciate his, um, display, as much as we do.”


Erica gulped. “I’m sorry, Mrs Douglass. I didn’t mean to… we had a little emergency.”

Mrs. Douglass continued smiling. “I hope it doesn’t spoil your evening,” she said, and pulled her sister along down the hall. She looked at my cage again as they passed us, caught my eye, and I winked. “My, my,” she said. We crept out into the elevator lobby, then hurried down the other wing towards what I hoped was Erica’s apartment. I could feel the older women’s eyes on my ass as we moved.

We were almost running, and the cage was bouncing around again between my legs. A door opened somewhere behind us. Probably Mrs Douglass and her sister going into their apartment. I hoped anyway, but it still put a shiver in me. Finally Erica stopped at a door and fished a key out of her jeans. She unlocked the door and pulled me into a medium sized but nicely decorated apartment.

 

“You can see the front of the club from my balcony,” she said and led me across the room after locking the front door. We quietly slipped out the sliding glass door and – me still naked and wondering who might be looking – peeked down towards the front door of the club. Someone had called the cops, and cop cars were now pulling up outside with their lights rolling and a big crowd was gathering. Two of my fellow Dancers were standing on the sidewalk, still nude except for their cages. This was drawing a lot of attention.

“Wow,” Erica said. “Thank you again for saving me from that. Oh, this is going to be a mess.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I might have to find a new side hustle.” Trina’s business was in a legal gray area. This might not be good for her going forward.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “This must really suck for you. Has it ever happened before?”

“No, never. What the hell did happen, anyway?”

Erica scowled. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. Well, my Dad’s fault, or his opponent anyway. My Dad is a politician. He’s running for Lieutenant Governor. I’m sure his opponent did this, he’s a rotten guy with lots of shady connections. Probably wanted to get pics of me to smear Dad with. I should’ve known better.”

“Well,” I said, looking around. “Maybe we shouldn’t be out here where someone could get a picture of us like, well, of you with me like this.”

“Oh! Good point,” she said, and we slipped quickly back into the room. I suppose I had some goosebumps on my skin, because Erica looked worried and said “It must’ve been cold out there for you.” She looked at me, up and down, and then said with a playful little grin “I don’t really want to, but I should probably offer you a towel or something to cover up with. I do like looking at you though. You’re very nice to look at without your clothes.”

I grinned back. “I’m okay without the towel if you are. I wouldn’t do this job if I wasn’t a bit of an exhibitionist. I like women looking at me.”

“You should,” she said, and my cock twitched, trying to get hard in its cage. She looked at it. “You’re still, ah, restrained.” She came closer and reached down to take my caged package in her hand. “What are you going to do about this?” She sounded a bit concerned. I thought maybe I should be too, but strangely I wasn’t.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Key’s probably back at the club. Trina has spares she keeps with her, but I’m not really keen to go back there right now.”

Erica was fondling my balls with one hand and running the other across my body, my ass, back, chest. It felt good. I moaned a little as her hand closed more tightly on my balls. I’d found the squeezer! She began rhythmically squeezing my balls and planting little kisses across my chest.

“You can stay here for now. Can you get out of this without the key?” she asked.

“Maybe,” I replied. “Never tried too hard. Was never in it for more than a few hours.”

“I still have my key,” she said softly. “We never got a chance to try it. Maybe I can set you free.”

“There’s a one in six chance it works,” I said cheerily.

“One in four,” she corrected. “I already tried two other guys and it didn’t work.”

My arms circled her and I looked down to see the key still on it’s chain around her neck, dangling between her breasts. I nuzzled her hair.

“But first,” she said before I could reply, “I want to finish my, um, hands-on private session that got interrupted.”

“Please do,” I said. “And no time limit either, you can make it last as long as you want.” I was very much enjoying what she was doing.

 

She sighed, then became rougher with me, one hand still rhythmically squeezing my trapped balls and the other grabbing my ass so hard I was sure there would be bruises later. My cock throbbed, bulging against the stainless steel bars of the cage. I grunted as she squeezed extra hard.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she yelped, pulling her hand away. I quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back towards my balls.


“It’s okay,” I said. “I like it. Go ahead, play rough with them. I’ll let you know, I’ll say ‘Red Light’ if it’s too much for me.”

She cautiously took hold of my balls again. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

She began kneading my balls, building up in pressure. I was moaning with pleasure. She bit my shoulder. She used a single finger to stroke what she could reach of my cock through the steel bars. She knelt in front of me for a better view of things, and worked over my caged cock. She took it, cage and all, into her mouth and gave me a caged blow job. I was breathing deeply, trying to keep control.

After a while, I rasped out “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

She took me out of her mouth and held my balls without squeezing. “Inside the cage and everything?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “You’ve got me very close right now.”

She stood up, her hands releasing my caged package and circling around my neck. She kissed me on the lips. “Not yet, Babe. Not yet.”

 

She let go of me and walked over to a small console against the wall. “Maybe we should have a Gin and Tonic while you let things settle down.” I agreed. She poured the drinks and came back, motioning to the couch. We sat down and she held her glass out. I touched mine to it with a clink.

“To our escape,” she said. She sat very close to me, her fully clothed hip pressed up against my naked one. She put one arm around my shoulders and leaned into me.

“I am sorry things got so screwed up for your job,” she said. “But I’m not sorry we ended up here. I am really enjoying having you here like this.”

“Naked, locked in a chastity cage, and basically at your mercy?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said with a bright smile. “I find all of that incredibly ...incredibly ...nice. Do you think it’s nice? Or are you just going along because you have to?”

I took a sip of my drink and tried to look as thoughtful and wise as a guy can when he’s naked and caged next to a fully clothed woman. “Maybe I think it’s so nice because I have to go along with it,” I said, putting my arm around her and giving her a little hug.

“Oh, is that how it is with you?”

I shrugged. “I suppose it helps with the job. The part about agreeing to be locked up in a chastity cage for your entertainment anyway.”

“Like being an exhibitionist helps?” she asked.

“Like being an exhibitionist,” I replied.

“So speaking of the job,” she said, lifting the necklace with the key on it over her head. “What happens if this doesn’t unlock you?”

“I’m more interested in what happens if it does.” I asked.

“Well,” she said. “As I recall, the rules of the party said if my key unlocks your cage, then you belong to me.” She put her drink down, grasped my cage again, and slid the key into the lock.

“It goes in the lock,” she said. “So far so good.”

“All of them go in the locks,” I said. “But does it turn?”

She held the key as if she was going to turn it. Or try to turn it. But she hesitated. “If it turns,” she said, “then I win and you belong to me?"

“Those are the rules,” I agreed, not bothering to mention anything about how long I’d belong to her. I was happy to leave that open ended for now.

“Of course,” she said, pulling the key back out of the lock. “Until I try it, you still belong to me anyway, don’t you?”

I gulped a little at this. “I suppose so.”

“Good,” she said, hanging the key back around her neck. She stood up and unbuttoned her pants, slid them over her hips and pushed them to the floor. She was wearing a very small, now very wet, thong. She slid that off too, revealing a bare pussy, the lips glistening and slightly puffy. She was very aroused. She put one knee beside me on the couch and swung the other across my body.

“If you’re wearing a chastity cage, I believe you’re supposed to be good with your mouth. Are you?”

 

I slid down a bit on the couch until her pussy was inches from my face. I reached behind her to take her ass in my hands. “If I’m not, I’ll practice till I am,” I promised as I pulled her to my mouth.

My cock, straining to get hard in its prison, felt like it was going to rip my balls off as it pulled the cage away from my body. The bars were unyielding, but my cock pulsed against them anyway, not caring it was a losing battle of flesh against steel, only knowing it wanted to be hard, rock hard, for this woman. I’d never been this aroused wearing the cage before. As I eagerly licked her pussy, buried my mouth in it, I felt the weight of the cage. My cock would struggle to get hard, lift the cage straight up in the air despite the pull on my trapped balls, then the weight of the metal would pull my cock back down to one side or another, giving my balls another yank. The next pulse would come and the little aerial dance that I could only feel and not see would repeat.

That went on for some time, I don’t know how long, and then she came. Grinding against my face, her hands tightly gripping my head, she came with almost a feline growl. A big cat too, not a house cat. When she finished, she stood up. Her legs were a little shaky, whether from the orgasm or from the position they’d been in while I got her to it I don’t know. She looked down at my cage. I followed her gaze. My cock and balls were purple, waving the heavy cage around almost drunkenly. She placed a fingertip on my forehead.

“Stay here Babe, I’ll be back.”

She turned and walked towards what I assumed was the bedroom. Her ass was mesmerizing. She was back less than a minute later, having disposed of her top now too so that she was completely naked. Except for the key dangling between her bare breasts. I looked from them to her bare pussy and back. I looked her her hips, the way they swayed just a little bit, just enough to be sexy without being trashy. With so much to look at, I didn’t notice the hand towel she carried until she draped it over my thigh and sat on the floor between my legs.

“Slide down a little more,” she said, pushing my thighs apart as I did so, giving herself complete access to my caged cock and balls.

“You said I almost made you cum inside your cage earlier?”

I nodded.

She smiled. “I think I want to make you do that now.” She began kneading my balls again, pressing her tongue through the bars to lick what she could of my cock. I just groaned.

“We’ll try the key in the morning, Babe.”

 

Taking the Long Way Home


Having an orgasm while your cock is locked inside a steel chastity cage is an interesting experience. A complicated one. And a new one for me that night with Erica. On a purely physical level, I found it slightly painful, slightly pleasant, and very frustrating. I felt a need to pump extra hard and I tried. Oh, I tried, using every Kegel muscle I could, feeling like I had to pump extra hard to clear the blocked plumbing. My cock, a throbbing shade of purple I’d never seen before, was crammed painfully into the cage with all the normal swelling that would give it size (I’m a grower) instead compressing all the internal pipes. My body sensed this somehow, and I pumped extra hard and for longer than usual, but when it was all done, I didn’t feel empty. I felt like my cock was still half full of cum. It was an odd, uncomfortable feeling.

And my balls hurt. I’m used to that, like it really, but this was more of an annoying pain than a pleasurable one. I tried squeezing out the trapped cum, but the cage, or really the ring behind my balls, seemed to limit how hard I could squeeze. All the normal functions down there had felt weaker, less coordinated, off a bit. The puddle of cum Erica collected in the towel was a third the size I expected it to be.

And that was just the physical stuff. Mentally it was a huge mind-fuck. I had this strange feeling of objectification that I didn’t really understand until later that night as I lay awake thinking. I was supposed to cum from fucking something – a woman’s pussy, her ass, her mouth, her hand, her tits. But I couldn’t fuck anything with the cage on. Instead, I came for her entertainment. By making me cum in my cage, Erica made me cum for her enjoyment, not mine. From dancing with Melbourne, I knew chicks like to make guys cum, but in that environment, they had to unlock us first. You want the eruption, take off the cage.

But Erica ignored that little rule. Nope, cage stays on, but boy still performs. My cock wasn’t allowed to set any conditions, Erica made it do what she wanted it to do, and under the conditions she wanted too. Which was very, very hot.
Like I said, a mind-fuck.

I had a lot of time to think about it too that night. I’d never slept wearing the cage before, and it was more uncomfortable than I’d expected. Dancing, wearing it for a few hours of a show, sometimes the weight got a little heavy, and you definitely felt the constraint when your cock was responding to the women’s attention by trying to get hard inside. But it had never been really uncomfortable during a show.

But trying to sleep, it just… tugged. Or pinched. Or poked. Whichever way I tried to lay, the cage was there, making me think about it. Of course later on when I was used to being kept caged more or less indefinitely, it was fine. I just needed to get used to it, and that first night I was not used to it.
So I didn’t sleep much. And I thought a lot about Erica, who was sleeping naked beside me, the key still around her neck.

The key? A key. Could be the key, but we didn’t know. For all I new, some cop had thrown my key into an evidence locker earlier that night, after the fracas at the club. If her key didn’t work – and I really hoped it did for more than one reason – I was going to have to figure out how to get Trina to unlock me, or else find a way out of the cage. Maybe cut the lock off with bolt cutters. Of course, I had another problem – I had no clothes. I was in a strange woman’s apartment. Well, not strange. Not after last night. Didn’t seem right to think of her as a stranger after what, well, everything, sexual and otherwise. But I was in her apartment and had no clothes. I also didn’t expect she had anything that would fit me.

I didn’t particularly want to walk down the hall nude and run into Mrs. Douglass again. Well, that wouldn’t be so bad, she was cool. But even she was clear the rest of the denizens of this ritzy building probably wouldn’t appreciate a nude dude with a steel chastity cage running around the place looking for the Uber pickup spot.

I finally drifted off to sleep and dreamed half-baked schemes about how to get home and get unlocked. Somehow in the dreams I had to get the cage off before I went home, so that meant I had to stop at a hardware store and buy bolt cutters naked.

 

I woke to my balls being ripped off. Or so I thought. My cock was hard, or at least as hard as it could get in the cage, and it was yanking on my balls again. It took a minute to get things under control, and then I realized it was already light out. Erica wasn’t sleeping in the bed. The smell of shampoo hung in the air and the fan was going in the bathroom.

I stood up, still naked and caged, and thought briefly about wrapping myself with a towel or sheet, but decided that would be weird after last night. I peeked in the bathroom, but it was empty. She’d showered recently though. “Hey,” I thought. “If I’m lucky, Erica’s key will unlock me.” She had said she’d try it in the morning, and it was morning. I was also a little hungry. I walked out of the bedroom into the living room. She wasn’t there but I smelled coffee coming from the kitchen. I walked around the corner.

And stopped in my tracks. Erica was sitting at the kitchen table with another woman. A bit older, in her forties, petite but hard looking. No nonsense. The woman looked at me with no trace of surprise, then her eyes trailed down my body to my caged cock. My morning wood hadn’t completely subsided, and her looking at it caused it to chub out again. Erica was looking down into her coffee cup, like a child who was in trouble.

“You must be the dancer,” the older woman said. “Come here and let me see that thing.” She held her hand out level with my crotch. I didn’t know who she was, but her confident attitude was very compelling. I found myself taking two steps forward and placing my balls in her upturned hand.

She took a rather firm grip and with her other hand began turning the cage this way and that. She examined the lock, the ring, poked at my cock through the metal bars as it swelled further inside the cage. She appeared very fascinated with the cage. Erica finally spoke up.

“Morning, Babe,” she said. “This is Theresa. She’s my dad’s campaign manager. I’ll get you some coffee.”

“These would come in handy for several of my clients,” Theresa said, still fondling the cage. “Keep them out of trouble.” She glanced at Erica as Erica fetched another coffee mug from the cupboard. “Don’t know what will help with that one though.”

Theresa looked up at me. “I suppose I should thank you for what you did last night. You helped avoid a big problem for the campaign.”

I looked back at her, not entirely sure what to say. Her face was attractive but marked with too much stress. Her eyes were active, her mouth was small and firm and neither betrayed any emotion. “I’m glad I could help” I finally said. She looked back at my caged cock, gave my balls a quick squeeze as a way of ending her examination, and let go of me.

Erica handed my a cup of coffee and sat back down, returning to being in trouble. I stood there with my crotch still in front of Theresa’s face, not knowing quite what to do.

“Unfortunately, last night didn’t go so well for your boss,” she said. “There’s a huge stink brewing over it.”

“I need to get a hold of her,” I said. “She has all my clothes, my phone, my wallet. And the key to get me out of this thing.” Theresa looked at the cage again.

“I thought Erica had that key,” she said.

“Well, maybe, but she never got around to trying it last night,” I said, feigning a little hurt and trying to hint that we should try the key now.

“No time for that nonsense now,” Theresa said, putting an end to my little ploy. I got the idea she liked having me naked and caged. “I’ve been talking with Trina, your boss, and I’m going to get you to her house where she has all your stuff and can get you sorted out.”

“Thank you,” I said. “How is she?”

“A bit worried,” Theresa said. “She’s going to have to do some fancy dancing herself to stay out of legal trouble over this. But, she seems like a woman who’s capable of that. I can’t afford to help her of course, but I would if I could.”

She grabbed my caged cock again. “But first we need to get you some clothes. Can’t really walk you through the lobby with this hanging out, no matter how much I’d like to do it. So I’m going to go buy you something to wear for the ride to Trina’s. I figure you’re a Large? What size shoes do you wear?”

“Thirteen,” I said.

She looked at my cock, trapped in the small steel cage. “Well, the old saying about big feet doesn’t work with it locked up in there.”

“I’m a grower,” I said, a little defensively.

“I’m sure you are, Dear.” Theresa smiled. “Just not while you’re wearing that. Okay, enough jabbering, I’m going to get you some clothes. I won’t take long.” She got up, gave my balls another squeeze, looked at Erica who kept her head down, and walked out the door.

 

I walked over behind Erica and bent down to kiss her on the side of the neck. She giggled a little. “That tickles.”

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You look like you’re in trouble.”

“No,” she brightened and sat up straight. “Not really, you saved me from that last night. It’s just, oh, that woman always makes me feel like a fuck-up. She’s so bossy and all business and bitchy. And runs my dad’s whole operation. It’s like I have a step-mom and I can never live up to her expectations.”

“She’s gone for a little while,” I said, caressing Erica’s shoulders. “And you didn’t have any trouble meeting my expectations. Maybe you can see if that key of yours works and I can prove I really am a grower.”

Erica pouted and shrugged her shoulders. “Theresa took the key. She made me give it to her.” Erica looked up at me apologetically. “I’m sorry, I can’t unlock you. But,” her face brightened, “I could make you cum in your cage again, like last night!”

She began working over my balls like she had before. I didn’t know at first if I wanted to go through that frustration again or not, but very quickly I gave in to the pleasure of her hands fondling my poor balls. I closed my eyes and sighed. It wasn’t long before I took a deep breath in and whispered “I’m really close. Better get a towel.”

“Un-uh, no towel.” she said. I looked down and saw her put her lips over the end of my cage. I could feel her tongue flicking across the parts of my cock that were bulging through the bars. Her hands kept working on my balls, and suddenly I felt that same odd, frustrating sensation of not being able to pump hard enough as I strained to ejaculate through my compressed, constrained cock.

Whatever I did manage to pump out went into her mouth and she swallowed. When it was over, she pulled her lips off my cage and smiled up at me. “I only like the taste of cum after I’ve had some coffee, but I love it then.” I had that same still-full feeling as the night before.

We sat and cuddled on the couch for a while after that, watching some cooking show on TV that reminded me I hadn’t eaten for a while. I was about to ask Erica if she was hungry when the door opened and Theresa barged back in with a shopping bag.

 

“Here are your clothes,” she said, putting the bag down on a table near the door. “Get dressed, we have to go.”

I looked at Erica and she nodded. I got up and went to the table. Inside the bag was a shoebox with a pair of size 13 loafers like you see yachties wearing, a dark maroon t-shirt with a surfboard on it, and a pair of light gray sweat pants made of very stretchy material. I fished around but saw no underwear.

“You don’t need any underwear,” Theresa said, seeming to read my mind. “But you probably want to cut the tags off things.” Erica came over to me and opened a drawer in the table. Inside were a pair of scissors and a couple of pens. She mouthed “phone number” and pointed at the pens. I smiled. I cut the tag off the sweat pants and quickly wrote my number on it and dropped it into the drawer without Theresa seeing. Then I pulled on the pants. They were pretty tight and the cage made a very prominent bulge in them. The outline of the lock and the bars of the cage were obvious. I pulled the shirt on. It wasn’t very long and barely met the top of the sweats. It didn’t do anything to cover the bulge.

“I don’t think these are going to hide much,” I said. Theresa turned and looked. A small little wicked smile played over her face.

“I didn’t think they would,” she said. “But they're enough for the lobby. You won’t be technically naked, that’s all I need. Hurry up, shoes on too, I have appointments this afternoon.”

I slipped the shoes on. I looked like a vagabond crew off one of the sailing yachts down at the harbor. Well, a vagabond crew with a metal cage locked on his cock. For the first time, I noticed the necklace that had my – or at least the – key on it, the one Erica had been wearing last night, hanging around Theresa’s neck. The key itself was invisible, tucked into her cleavage beneath the blue blouse she wore. This pseudo-step-mom was quite the accomplished mind-fucker. It occurred to me she could be a lot of fun, in a twisted sort of way for the right twisted sort of guy.

I kissed Erica, who giggled at my outfit. “Thank you,” she said. “For last night and everything.”

Theresa ushered me out the door before I could say anything in response, but I thought I heard the drawer to the table opening as the door closed, Erica retrieving my phone number. I hoped she would call tonight.

 

At first I was a bit self-conscious about the cage showing through the tight sweat pants, but then I remembered I’d walked down this hall completely naked, well, except for the cage, and that I’d spent most of the last 24 hours nude and caged in front of many women. I relaxed, it was fine, people could see and I even found myself hoping to run into Mrs. Douglass again, but no such luck.

We reached the parking garage, the same garage, using the elevator this time, and Theresa walked me to her car. It was a convertible Mercedes two-seater. We got in and she drove out of the garage and started across town. Trina’s place was east of downtown, out into the foothills. Neither of us said anything, Theresa just drove, her mind working over whatever problems she had to deal with today after taking care of the problem that was me.

As we sat at a light, Theresa’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, flicked her finger over it, and read something, scowling. “Okay, change of plans,” she said. “Your boss has the police at her house. Probably asking about last night. It wouldn’t be good for either of us to show up while they were there.”

“No, I suppose it wouldn’t.” I agreed. The light turned green. She looked around, then gunned the engine and took a quick left turn. A block later, she pulled up to the curb and parked. I looked to my right and saw a bistro with several couples, all fashionable since this was a ritzy part of town, eating breakfast. Lots of prosecco and mimosas and a few Bloody Mary’s were evident.

“I’m hungry,” Theresa said. “You probably are too. I’ll buy us brunch, since you don’t have your wallet.” She got out of the car. I hesitated. “What’s the matter?” she asked, motioning for me to get out.

“Well,” I said, getting out keeping my voice low. She walked around the car to my side and stood in front of me. “These sweatpants are a little tight,” I said. “The cage is very visible. The lock and everything.”

“Don’t try to tell me you’re embarrassed,” she said. “You love showing that off.”

She was right, I did. “But,” I said, “I was worried it might be embarrassing or bad for you to be seen with me like this.”

She laughed. “In my line of work, a woman needs a reputation as something of a ball-buster if she’s going to make it. Being seen with a boy-toy locked in a chastity cage has to help that.” She pulled the key out from inside her blouse and let it hang outside, visible. “So show it off for me,” she said, then she grabbed by package through the sweat pants and squeezed. I began to swell up again and the cage pushed out, even more visible under the thin, stretchy cloth. It wasn’t easy walking behind her to the entrance.

There was a very short line, but it was right next to the outdoor seating area and two women, maybe in their thirties, were eating breakfast just on the other side of the low metal railing. The one facing me was maybe three feet away from my caged cock, and she was staring intently at it. Seeing her doing that made it twitch and throb, which caused her eyes to go a little wider which cause it to twitch and throb some more. She smiled, looked up at me, then looked admiringly at Theresa, who was completely oblivious to this exchange, and said softly “nice.”