Unlike those other times, I certainly got more than I bargained for.
Perhaps it was all the wolves in the audience. It was the first night of the event, and they were hungry. The wolves weren't fed yet. Or perhaps it was the bear. Once I saw him in the front row, I think I knew. I knew what I was walking into.
As usual, the terms were declared. Boymeat is being sold as a top. He will only bottom for the right price. Immediately, someone screamed, what price? I didn't have the chance to respond. Lolita replied $250. Frist bid... $250.
I was in trouble.
You see, the man in the front row was none other than Frank Strona. He has been threatening a particular agony disguised as a fund raiser for 5 years now. He dreamed up the concept of putting me into a CB-2000 chastity device, and charging people a daily fee. They spend the money, I wear the device for another day. He figured he could keep me under lock and key for at least a year.
I always laughed. Heh. Funny that.
The bid immediately reached $500, with the terms being me wearing the device during the event. On Saturday morning, Frank bought a CB-3000 (so much time has passed since the initial threat that a new model was invented) from Purple Passion. A nice clear plastic. He was kind and bought the longer cage model. Nice being a very figurative word.
I managed to avoid the gang of wolves for quite some time. But, by early afternoon, the call came into my cell phone. Where are you Boymeat, we have your cage. Time to get locked up.
It is appropriate that in my life, the people who put me into a cock cage would be a gang of dykes. That's one of the hazards to being a man in a family of women. Thankfully, Michael Blue was there to give direction.
I wore the contraption for nearly 24 hours. It was an interesting experience. The cage was omnipresent. It dug into my thigh at all times. I would reach down, and feel an unhuman hardness.
It is amazing how many oral sex offers one receives once he is in chastity. And equally amazing how many friends own lockpicks, eager to offer their skills.
I could have snuck my way out. A friend, a few moments, and the cage would have been off. But I knew the right thing to do was to go through with it. I considered it a scientific experiment. I did things that would turn me on. And they did. I think. I felt turned on, my mind was turned on, and I even felt the sensations of blood rushing to my cock, and my member engorging. However, when I looked down, there was nothing but softness in a cage. A wild mindfuck.
Sleeping was truly a bitch. With the plastic jutting out, sleeping in my usual on my stomach position was completely out. When I tried lying on my side, the weight of the CB-3000 would pull on my balls and the few hairs trapped within the plastic cages. So that was out. I slept on my back, and woke up hourly.
There were many great comments. naylandblake complained how the imprisonment only gave me a reason to talk about my cock for 24 hours. I also enjoyed playing percussion with my cage. People asked to see it, and I would demand $10 for NCSF. If I'm going to walk around humiliated, I'll be militant about it in my own special way.
Sunday morning, I found freedom. I found new joy in an unfettered penis.
I'm glad I could contribute to the cause of fighting for our sexual freedoms. The irony however was just slightly bitter. I do believe I am wiser from the experience. It was an eye-opening 24 hours, indeed.