It had been three weeks since the night at the gym where Coach had released Brian from chastity and I’d helped to end his torment from the milking machine by pushing myself beyond my limits. In that time, Brian had established a routine for me: our weekdays would start early at 05:30am on the oval where he would act as personal trainer, pushing me to exhaustion through any number of squats, push ups, sit ups, chin ups, burpies, and any other hateful exercise you can imagine. In the change rooms after training, I would kneel while he striped in front of me, knowing that the sight of his muscular body made my dick strain against its cage. His own cock, inches from my face would taunt me as I struggled not to lean forward to worship him as he deserved and instead, I would lean down, take his discarded underwear, soaked in sweat and filled with a deep musk in my mouth. I would hold them between my teeth, the taste of them seeping into my senses while he showered. He seemed to sense what turned me on, as if he knew my internet history or my private fantasies and took every opportunity to drive me crazy with them; pushing me further into horniness, claiming that it gave me focus and energy to improve on the field. I would remain kneeling, his underwear in my mouth until he dried off, dressed and left. On the days I’d done particularly well he would ruffle my hair or kneel briefly in front of me and tell me I’d done well; on the one day my performance had slipped poorly following a big night out, he’d said nothing at all as he left the change rooms and it cut me more than that I’d thought it should have. Once he’d left, I was free to tidy up, shower and change, ensuring to wash and return his clothes the next day.
I was kept caged of course, and on every fourth day, Brian would let me earn my freedom, setting a challenge to beat. I’d passed all but one and he had unlocked me in the change rooms as I knelt on the cool, hard tiles slowly biting into my knees. He’d stood right in front of me, his cock an inch from my face and told me I had three minutes to cum. I only needed two.
I both loved and hated the routine. I hated being caged and found myself frustrated every night and by the third chaste night would lie awake thrusting and humping the bed, moaning at the slight friction I could attain and almost crying at the inevitable failure of release. But I loved the feeling being locked gave me. Brian was right, it did keep me focussed. My thoughts never strayed far from my keyholder and I was starting to relish the control he held over me. He kept me locked for my own good. He helped me. He trained me. He pushed me to my limits and bent them but never broke them. And the hornier he made me, the deeper I fell. I had found Brian to be incredibly hot from the moment I’d met him but I now wanted more and more to worship him; to explore every inch of his body and to bring him the pleasure I knew I could. Wish as I might however, he kept himself just a hair out of reach, and it drove me crazy. The frustratingly brilliant part way, I think he knew that.
This morning was the day before our team’s first match. We’d finished training and Brian had just ruffled my hair and made to walk out. I tried to build the courage to speak but it came out as more of a squeak. Nonetheless, Brian turned back around and queried,
“Something on your mind boy.” I blushed. He’d started calling me boy and from the first I’d liked it. It sort of fit though I don’t really know why. I think most guys would have been patronised by it but every time he said it I fell just a tiny bit farther.
“Umm, it’s just, um I was wondering if I could… err, never mind Captain.” Brian smiled, almost as if he’d been expecting this very moment.
“You were wondering if you could, what boy?” He paused, “Maybe, suck my dick boy? Is that it.” I blushed harder and looked down. I wasn’t exactly going to put it like that but he had guessed it and I wished the tiles would swallow me whole. “Tell you what boy, tomorrow’s our first game and also your day to try and earn release if I’m not mistaken. If we win, I’ll let you choose whether to come out of that cage and pleasure yourself, or to stay locked and reset the clock and pleasure me instead.” He turned and left before I looked back up. I knew what choice I’d make but I also knew I’d be clinically insane before the week was out if I had to stay locked another four days!
I’d only played one quarter of the match, which was still a heck of a lot better than the sidelines I was used to and I tell you, I’d never performed better in my footy history. Not that I was any great contributor but we had blessedly won the match and after a round of beers at the pup, I found myself in Brian’s shared apartment, shuffling nervously in his room. Brian was sitting on his bed, just watching me.
“Take off your clothes,” he said matter of factly. I almost stumbled as I hurriedly stripped off to stand butt naked before him. He continued to stare; his eyes roaming every part of me and in my self consciousness, I wanted to cover myself but instead just stood and blushed furiously.
“Now take my clothes off. You can start with my shoes.” I gawked and shook myself before reaching down to untie his laces, “not with your hands silly boy.” I stared at him uncomprehendingly until with a shock, I saw his plan. He looked me dead flat in the eye until I broke and lowered myself to the floor, bending to take his laces in my teeth and work them free. Brian helped me once the laces were undone, kicking his shoes off, exposing his socks, fairly rank after playing a full match of footy. I didn’t mind; to my surprise the deep flavour made my cock strain in its cage as I struggled to pull them down and off. When I got the second one off with a twist of my head, the sock flailed around in my mouth, flapping and Brian chuckled as I realized I must have looked a little like a puppy playing. He ruffled my hair again in that special way and stood up, taking off his own shirt and leaving me waist height to stare at the waist band of his shorts. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening, that was finally going to get to explore and worship Brian as I’d dreamed about. I tentatively reached out and struggled to get his shorts down but before I could start on his underwear, Brian placed a hand on the back of my head and pushed my face forward into his crotch.
“Mmm, you like that boy?” I think my whimper was answer enough, and from the growing bulge in the fabric in front of my face I could tell he did too. I lost myself in the taste of him and I didn’t regain any sensible sort of consciousness until much later when Brian at last pushed away from me to collapse back on the bed with a satisfied sigh and I sat back, licking the taste of his warm salty cum from my lips. I was in heaven and didn’t think the world could be any more perfect until Brian opened an arm and beckoned me up onto the bed. I climbed up and nestled into his chest, in the nook between shoulder and neck. I wrapped one leg around his waist and an arm around his chest and he pulled me in. Brian massaged the back of my neck with one hand and murmured in my ear,
“such a good boy”. It was even better than the cum.
Nice, and nice addition of the collar connected to the top of the spreader bar. And just how long did you last in that one, and how did you end up getting out of it? Was it an interrogation or similar type of challenge, or more of just a safe word and you were let out...that kind of thing?
Posted by Admin 06/19/2022 - 18:19
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Posted by Bondagebuddy2 06/19/2022 - 16:59
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Lucky, lucky slave
Posted by Bondagebuddy2 06/19/2022 - 16:56
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Have been in that last position. It looks quite simple but is as tough as hell after just a short time. Collar connected to the top of the spreader too, just for extra sport....
Posted by cbr998 06/19/2022 - 14:58
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To please the coach is all that matters. To be in chastity ans edged would be ecstacy.
Posted by footsoldier 06/19/2022 - 12:39
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