So here I am, it’s Friday and I am trotting down the stone stairs into the cellar bar, my boots thumping as I go down. Back in my thick leather bulldog chest harness and 20-hole black boots all covered by Camo trousers and a Levi jacket over a white T shirt.
At the bottom is an appointment with a tight steel gibbet cage. Last weekend I had spent a night in it; after a play session Ryan the barman had slept the sleep of the unjust in front of me while an Estim box had zapped pads all over my body at 30-second intervals. I had been twitching and writhing as much as the steel embrace allowed – which was virtually not at all! My cock was tired and sore after the evening’s entertainment but had still been pushing hard against the spikes in a chastity cage Ryan had locked on as he released me from ‘The Shed.’ I had ‘Mmmrrrpphh’ed all night through a rubber tongue gag unable to wake him and get him to turn the fucking thing off! The next morning he had commented that it was a good thing that pre-cum was not toxic to stainless steel, judging by the amount that I had dribbled onto the solid steel of the cage.
But the condition of me being allowed to try that wonderfully tight and totally restricting frame was to be the star of this weekend’s party – for 36 hours! Hanging in the bar! Open to the guys!
How far will he go? Will the Estim run all of the 36 hours? Can I really do this? On down the stairs I went. Yes – I am aching to do that again!
Ryan saw me come into the bar, and his evil grin made my cock leap. He waved me over to him and gave me a tight bear hug. I had spent another week with every free hour from my fairly boring life as a security guard in the gym and he obviously was enjoying the results of my work. I was just hoping I could still get into the gibbet cage, it had been fairly tight last time. It was hanging in the middle of the bar — steel shining and being handled and checked out by quite a few tough-looking customers. Had I lost my place?
Ryan took me out the back into the private playroom.
‘Strip the clothes but leave the boots, boy’ was his way of saying ‘Hi’! Good for me! In 20 seconds I was ready; down to my boots and the chastity cage. ‘Leave the harness – it looks amazing on your chest! Bend over and relax,’ was the next command and he applied a good amount of lube before working his fingers into my arse. ‘Hope you are clean as instructed,’ he said, ‘or you will be really in trouble later in the weekend!’
I had followed orders and douched out that day and also been on a low solids diet for a day or so. This would be my first time at a long bondage session, but I had been doing my homework.
I felt a cold touch and relaxed to allow Ryan to slide in a large, steel butt plug. It was bigger than I was used to, but the neck was small and it was really secure. I felt full, and cold!
Then he held up a black rubber hood. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before and had obviously come from Studio Gum. Black rubber with tubes and pipes everywhere!
‘You ready for the ultimate head trip?’ he asked and I nodded, but really I was right on the edge – this was going to be new. He turned it inside out and showed me a pair of pipes. ‘These go up your nose and down the back of your throat so you are sure to be able to breathe without a blockage.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Then this is the mouthpiece, seals you tight with the molded gum shield. This pipe lets me water you, it has a one-way valve so you can breathe in through it and take liquids but not make sound out.’
The neck had a thick rubber strap with a post and loops — padlocks too — obviously to lock it on. So, apart from me being in a steel cage and unable to move, I was not going to get the chance to take it off until Ryan decided the time was right!
He grinned; I love his grin. It lights up his rugged face. And it’s evil! The front of the hood had clear Perspex windows for the eyes. I was going to be able to see what was going on, possibly. I had also noticed a pair of buckles on each side that obviously held a blindfold too. He sat me down and asked, ‘You really ready for this? Do you trust me that much?’ I sat and thought. Yes I did! I had gotten to know him and it was a public place; really about as safe as you can when you play at the hard edge of the scene.
Also I knew that I was falling in love. Never a good way to make a rational decision, I thought. I nodded and took a deep breath – ‘Yes, Sir, I do and I want to go through with this.’
He grinned again and hugged me; my heart thumped and my cock leapt and stung as it hit the spikes in the cage. I hugged back, feeling the thick leather chest harness over his hard, muscular chest. Damn if he wasn’t getting bulkier too!
Ryan took out a small tube of what looked like lube – ‘It’s sterile,’ he said and pulled on some gloves. Rubbing the lube onto the nose pipes he then pointed at a black padded bondage chair behind me and said ‘sit.’
I sat, but instead of strapping me in (shame!) he walked behind the chair. His hands came round in front of me with the hood inside out and pushed the pipes slowly into my nostrils. It stung, the soft linings of my nose passages were scraped and stretched by the pipe but he carefully and slowly pushed them in. I could feel them go through to the back of my throat and felt the scraping as they turned down. And stopped. I was breathing hard through my mouth, just on the edge of panic, it was such a strange feeling!
Then Ryan came round to the front and told me to open my mouth wide. He peeked in and grunted, ‘I can just see the pipes so the length is perfect! Now breathe through your nose for me.’ I closed my mouth and carefully tried to breathe. It was strange but it worked, I could breathe through the pipes!
I grinned at him and said ‘OK! Next.’
‘Open up then,’ he said and slipped the mouthpiece in. This is a great piece of molding. The tongue fits into a sleeve and the front is like a boxer’s mouth guard, gripping the gums and filling the cheeks.
He flipped the hood the right way out and slipped it over my head. The zip was down and the neck strap pulled before I had even time to realize what was happening.
Now I was fixed.
Yes, I could see to some extent through the eye windows and he moved in front of me and stood looking and grinning. He held up his thumbs and cocked his head onto one side.
I took a deep breath through my nose. I could feel and hear the air rushing through the pipes. It was weird but it worked. I gave him a thumbs-up back. He hauled me to my feet and, gripping my harness, pulled me through into the shop. Even through the hood I could hear the cheer that went up. It made my cock swell again and the pain then brought it back under control.
He spun me round and backed me into the gibbet cage; it seemed even tighter than last week as I pushed in and it gripped me round my shoulders, round my hips, pushing my legs together. I could feel the steel over my shoulders and down my arms, cold on my triceps. Through my window I saw the front hinge come around, and then the cold steel held me solidly.
He took out a hex driver and held it up to my eyes, grinning again, then it moved out of sight and the clamp of the cage got a little tighter as he did up the locking screws.
I was in, locked and held tight. Hooded and gagged. Plugged and ready for whatever he wanted. Or the crowd wanted. By now they were hooting and chanting. I tried to relax and just focus on my breathing. He walked over to a button on the wall and pressed. I went up by what must have been about a metre off the ground.
I drifted. Guys were feeling my body. Twisting my nipples, stroking my chest, squeezing my biceps. I flexed and tried to wriggle but could not move. They cheered again!
‘FUCK’ I tried to shout as a bolt shot up my ass! At least that’s what it felt like. That fucking steel butt-plug was alive! Then the shock ran though my cock! That was a contact as well; oh fuck what had I done?
Later that weekend …
He stood waiting. It was bliss.
Pure, simple, bondage.
He was in a standing cage; a heavy 5-kilo leather coated steel collar was locked around his thick neck. The collar was chained by lugs from the sides of his neck to each side of the cage and another chain led from the back up to the top. Not too tight but just enough to make its presence felt.
The collar was 50 mm high, about 30 mm thick and wrapped itself around his neck with a barrel lock. The leather cover stitched over it had a thick seam on the top and bottom that was resting on his collarbones, but it felt warm and comfy round his beard.
Thick, black, padded leather restraints were locked onto his corded wrists and secured to the sides of the cage.
Another set of padded leather restraints were locked round the ankles of his 20-hole black Grinders boots; the white lacing, done Army fashion, was stepped in a tidy line of bars up his legs. The thick soles resting slightly on the toes as he leant forward, feeling the collar tighten on his neck.
Just wider than his shoulders.
Just deeper than his chest.
A bit taller than he stood at 6ft 6in.
He stood feet wide apart. Grabbing the bars. But he was drooling a bit …
From inside the collar his head was fully enclosed. Padded black leather gripped his head tightly with thick leather straps that went round his head at the eye, round from the top of his head and down round his chin and round his mouth. The mouth strap also held a gag tight in his mouth. A thick rubber tab that went into his mouth over his tongue
It was locked, at neck, and each strap. He was sealed in.
But he was used to tight bondage that held him immobile.
This was sexy. He could move, but not much.
He could grip the bars, waggle his feet, but just not move his head. The chains locked by steel padlocks to his collar held it tightly; not moving at all.
Ryan had locked it round his neck earlier that evening. Ryan had offered him a lifeline; a change in his life.
Give up the boring existence he had during each week as a security guard. Give up the struggle for enough money each week to get out and have fun through the weekend.
Become the ‘house bondage slave’ to the bar! It was the end of the weekend. He had been in the Gibbet cage for 36 hours and was feeling tired but so completely horny. He must have cum about 20 times without touching his cock as guys had worked him over, playing with the estim box that had been hanging from the side and attached to various places around his body.
Ryan had come over and stroked him, touching his body gently, massaging the tired muscles and offered a new life.
Metal would like to thank the author, Steellock (formerly known as Sailing Master), for this story, which is posted to the Prison Library with his permission. You can read much more gay bondage fiction by this guy and others by visiting his very own story page, available here.