I can remember that day very clearly. I met Brent and Jason in the hall near the lockers and we were all talking at the same time telling each other about how we scored the night before. As members of the football team of course we knew how we beat the Central High guys' butts in the last game. No, it wasn't the football scores we were talking about; it was the babe scores. In some ways it was more fun talking about our adventures than actually doing them, especially since some of the tales were slightly embellished. At least it was an "uplifting" activity to start the school day. I had my usual story to tell about how Missy and I had fucked on the sofa at her house after her folks went to bed and they thought we were still watching TV. After I had told them that and had the mental videotape playing in my head, I had to reach in my jeans to adjust my equipment as Brent was beginning his tale.
He told us that he had taken out the new cheerleader, Sandy, who had just moved to town from Texas. As soon as he said her name, my tool started pulsing as I could see her in my mind as she was at the last game, lineside in her short skirt and sweater with those bouncing boobs and big smile. Brent said that he had trouble. Normally for any of us three guys all we had to do was take off our shirts and the girl was panting for us to do more, and when we flexed a little and then dropped our pants they already had their legs up and were foaming at the mouth. But Sandy was a little different. She didn't mind Brent stripping and told him he had a really great body, but she didn't seem to be getting ready to be fucked.
When Brent made his move, she began screaming that she didn't want to have sex. But Brent knew that as soon as she felt his tool in her cunt she would change her mind. She tried to pound on his chest and abs, but those rock hard muscle plates were like armor and she didn't have a chance. Brent began his usual hard, deep thrusts and she was squirming and screaming and kicking so that he shot almost immediately. Well, since he was satisfied, he pulled out. Now if she had been nice to him, he might have favored her with more, but since she had given him some noise, well, he got his and that was what counted. I had to admit that if I had been there pushing my male member into that girl I would have shot very quickly too. In fact, in spite of my "control" hand in the pocket of the jeans, my tool was dripping and drooling, just from hearing the story.
Then on that fateful day in third period, Joan, the office secretary, came into History Class and whispered something in Miss Russell's ear and soon Brent was packing his books and leaving with Joan. Now Brent as well as me and my buddy Jason we were star football players and we expected to get some attention from college recruiters. I thought this was probably what it was as Brent's jean-cased tight little fucker's butt trotted out of the room.
I didn't see Brent fourth period and then fifth hour in English he was there again standing by the door when I came up from my last class. "Sup?" I asked him and he told me that he, Sandy's dad, the coach, and the school principal all had a session. I guess that Texas girl told her dad about the rape and the angry dad had come in demanding that Brent be kicked out of school. Now interestingly enough, both the coach and the principal were sort of on Brent's side. They pointed out that it was a bad thing to rape a girl, but that the school had a chance at the state championship this year and that not only Brent but also other more innocent members of the team would be helped by a win. Without Brent, it would be doubtful if the team could continue its winning record. Sandy's dad wouldn't go along, he demanded that the school do something. At the end of the meeting, the coach and principal said they would try to think of some plan and then meet with the hopefully cooled-down dad the next day.
After school we all went to football practice. The coach didn't say NOT to suit up so we all did and humped out onto the field to warm up. As we were working on plays, the assistant coach, actually an intern from the university, pulled Brent aside and told him not to worry that he thought he had a plan the coach and Sandy's dad would accept. I overheard them talking and I was wondering what it would be, but then since Brent was still in the game, we both turned our attention to working out the problems we had with a couple of the plays in last Friday's game.
The next day in school Brent was not called out of class so we assumed the coach and the principal and that intern assistant coach had worked out a deal. At football practice after school the coach told us to suit up again. When we were out on the field, coach let the assistant coach take over and he asked all the senior members of the team to come with him to his office to talk with the principal. We 7 guys, some starters, some benchwarmers, all double-timed into the school building.
It was in that office that the shocking plan was outlined. I understood that the young assistant coach had suggested that the problem was centered in Brent's crotch and than if they could do something about that area of his body, then perhaps Sandy's dad would let the rest of Brent's body play ball. The plan was to lock Brent into a chastity cup for the rest of the season so he couldn't rape any more girls. Not only could he not have his way with any more women but also he would not be able to masturbate or shoot loads. So there would be protection for the females of the school, and punishment for Brent. Wow! At this announcement I felt my cock go super hard. I looked over to Brent and of course couldn't tell much through his uniform, but later he told me he was hard too. I was feeling so sorry for Brent that he would not be having sex, but at the same time, it was sort of a neat feeling to think of him locked up like that. He was always the most forward, aggressive, and assertive of the three of us buddies. Maybe now he would be taken down a notch and one of the rest of us could be head cock of the mountain. Also, I think a little of that basic male castration fear was running in my head. As I placed myself mentally in Brent's sorry position, not being able to beat off or feel hot cum blast out of my prong, well, my equipment was almost tearing my pants it was so hard.
I wondered why we were all called in, it seemed like so far it was just something between Brent and the coach. We soon learned that before the second meeting with Sandy's dad, the principal got a call from another girl's dad saying his daughter had also been raped by a member of the football team. A couple of the guys groaned at this point, more than one really, so I wondered how much raping was going on anyway. Then the coach mentioned my buddy Jason who got red in the face and probably hard in the crotch thinking that his days of hard-ons and ramming babes would be cut short. I know that I was running a stream of drool out my tool just thinking about my best buddies, these two muscular jocks with their cocks and balls locked up for the season. I was thinking also that with these two studs out of action, then I with a super great body and hard dripping cock would be able to fuck the cream of the female crop. In fact, I would probably have to do extra time fucking the ladies to keep them all satisfied.
The coach said that since there had been two reported rapes already, there was a good chance it might happen again. He wanted to keep everyone on the team and he really wanted to win that state championship. Then he turned it over to the school principal.
The principal told us that he had been principal here for 20 years and that he was so ashamed to go to meetings with the other principals because our school had never in 20 years had a state football title. They were always razzing him about it. He took it with good nature, but deep down inside he really wanted to show them. Now he had a chance, we all had a chance to win, we had the right combination of weight, muscle, and talent. He really didn't want to lose that chance to win the state. This might be the only opportunity the school would have for some time. But we couldn't have any guys in this room expelled. We had to hold on to all our players.
So he had proposed to Sandy's dad that all the seniors, all the guys 18 years old, all the football players who would be legal adults, all be fitted and locked into chastity cups until the end of the season. This proposal was enough for Sandy's dad and the other one and they dropped the demand to have Brent and Jason kicked out of school and promised they would not file any lawsuits. Of course I didn't hear much of these last comments as my ears were sort of buzzing and blood was rushing to my head. I too was to be locked up! At this point I could feel my balls pull up tight in my uniform and solid spurts of wetness began hitting and then sliding down my leg.
The plan was that if we seniors wanted to play football, we would have to agree to the chastity cup, if we felt we needed to fuck women the next few months, then we were off the team. At this point I think coach used a little psychology on us. We had just heard the principal giving us a rousing locker room speech, and now the coach added that he really wanted to see all of us go on to win the state and that he was sure there would be some college scholarships for several guys and that it might lead to a very lucrative professional sports career. He told us that when we were 30 years old and driving expensive cars, making lots of money, being famous on TV on ESPN, and fucking any broad we wanted, well, we wouldn't even remember this 3-month "dry" period in our sex lives. Do it for the coach! Do it for the school! Do it for yourself!
Yeah! Yeah! We all signed on! Well, if he had let us go home and think about it, maybe some would have dropped off the team, but we were all caught up in the emotion of winning the state championship. We knew two of the guys for sure had to wear the cups and we couldn't have some with and some without. Still I felt like I was being punished for something I didn't do. At least my buddies got to have the thrill of rape, now I would have to wait until almost Christmas before I could go out and rape a babe. Well, at least I could be storing up some great loads.
Then coach ordered us to the showers, told us to beat off one last time, then report back to his office, naked, in 10 minutes. We rushed out to the showers, stripped off the uniforms, and we were all hard and oozing just from the thought of it being our last shots. With the sight of my buddies and the other senior major jocks standing under the showers with their cocks full up, it wasn't but two or three strokes and I shot and at that I was about the last to cum.
Cleaned up, toweled down, and cocks now curving down and swinging, we jogged back to the coach's office. The coach and principal were gone, I guess the coach was back out directing practice. That 22-year-old university intern assistant was there in the office and on the desk were a collection of several sizes of strange looking silver devices. Their small dark holes and somewhat triangular but solid shape made them look like little flattened and rounded wren houses waiting to be nailed up under the rafters of a backyard garage.
We all got to watch as the college athlete grabbed Brent's scrotum and pulled him to the desk by his balls, took judgement of the heft of Brent's equipment and quickly selected a metal jock. These chastity cups were two-part polished steel items and looked bulletproof. They opened at the bottom into two halves, a front and a back. The front part looked very much like the standard protective athletic cup and externally the back half was mostly flat. They were sort of what one would get if one put a back on a regular cup with space between the front and back for the male equipment. Not exactly an "egg", not a "ball" but something with the compound curves of a solid three-dimensional jock cup.
There was a hole in the back of the rear piece, a small round hole padded with what looked like leather, and the assistant coach squatted and grabbed one of Brent's balls and pushed it through. The hole was so small that the ball just sort of squirted through, then he pushed and pulled the second ball hard and after three attempts it decided to squirt through too. Then he took Brent's cock and bent it down in two and with very great effort stuffed the tightly folded member through the hole too. Now the assistant took a round fairly thick metal U-shaped spring. He had a collection of them of various sizes on the table. He used his strong grip to bend the spring ends in and snap them into welded retainers on the lower internal back surface of the thing. The U bar actually had a reverse U in the top of the U: it was a double U, or better said, the shape of an inverted W. He pushed Brent's cock up briefly and hooped the top of the spring under the cock but over his balls. Thus the cock was sort of cradled on the inverted W. Then he closed the "egg" cup up, hinging it up from the bottom.
He looked very carefully as the top outside corners of the fat metal W now made contact with the front part of the jock and the center of the inverted W bar was forced to close down tightly over the top of Brent's nuts, pushing the balls gently but firmly down into the bottom of their sac, and the sac in turn to the bottom of the round steel encasement. He then gripped the whole device and pulled down and twisted it around all the while checking the fit of this W rod over the top of the ball sac. He opened the cup, and with his arms flexing and veins popping was just barely able to release the W spring.
He snapped in the next size smaller ball retainer spring and this passed the test, so he then pushed the front of the cup all the way closed. Inside at the top of the front part were welded some more smooth metal bars and these forced Brent's cock down into the space between the balls and the smooth front of the cup. The cock ended up hung over the ball retainer spring and under the upper pressure bars. The intern squeezed the "egg" tight then manually set the deadbolt internal lock with some key that looked like what they use on vending machines. He put a plastic coating solution in and over the keyhole, red in color. It was liquid but quickly set up hard. He then locked a small combination padlock over the keyhole. The padlock was at the side of the top of the closure.
As he removed his fingers from the small padlock, the whole cup sort of just naturally sprang back up against Brent's crotch held there by his own balls and cock. It was actually a pretty "kewl" design: a silver strapless jockstrap. Thump! The intern playfully finger-snapped Brent's metal cup, grinned, and turned to his next victim.
Once we saw how to do it, we started applying the chastity cups to each other, it was kind of fun grabbing my buddy Jason's personal parts and I enjoyed it when Jason had his hands on my balls. The assistant would always put in the smooth W spring ball-sac retainer and check the fit. A couple guys were hard again and we had to use cold water to get them down enough to stuff them through the hole into their metal jocks. There seemed to be a small number on each internal lock and that corresponded to the keys because each "egg" was locked with a different key.
When we were all locked up, the intern assistant coach told us that there was no way we could pull our equipment out of the hole in the back since there was not enough space, actually no space, between the back piece of the cup and the body so we could not "double" over our cocks to get them out, we couldn't even touch our cocks, nobody could. The balls had to come out one at a time and of course the retainer spring held both balls down in the ball sac like a sort of gentle mousetrap. So we couldn't pull the balls out either. The only way would be to pull the balls "off" and we didn't want to do that. The balls were just sort of hanging in suspension in the egg, sometimes bouncing off the walls but that was about the only feeling we could get now from our balls, no fingers could touch them locked tight in their metal prison. We had felt the last of any human touch on our genitals for the rest of the season.
As far as the locks went, well, since we were going to play football and play it hard, the design had a deadbolt rather than a spring held mechanism. The internal inverted W spring holding the balls was pressed tight by the closure of the egg, so that smooth metal bar was not coming loose, nor would the top of the egg-cup come open with blows to it. The only way was to use the key to crank back the deadbolt. He told us it was a special key that was only used in very high security situations. In other words, we could not go down to Sears and get a key made for it. The plasticoat seal would not come off in the shower or in rough football play. It could be removed with a knife and some heat but we might not want to warm up our balls that much. We were sealed up like a bottle of Bufferin, the seal itself could be broken but would provide visual proof of the tampering. He told us that he would be using an electronic laser analyzer to check on the seal before each daily school practice and game so the longest we could hope to be free and still playing sports would be over one weekend. The plasticoat material had special unique metallic grains in suspension and that he would be able to tell if the seal had been broken and replaced, assuming we could even find a similar type of sealant.
The final item, the small combination padlock, was to help hold the plastic seal in place but also provided evidence of attempted escape. This lock was from the government and was not available to the public. The lock of course could easily be cut with standard bolt cutters and then a similar looking lock put on in its place. He said in all recorded cases where the padlock had been cut, the special security tamper mechanism inside the lock automatically reset the release combination to 0000 so that the original setting could not be copied. Since each of us was given a unique combination even if we were able to cut off the lock, find a similar one, and lock it on, we would not be able to match the combination and this would show that we had tampered with the metal jock cup. Of course on those long fall nights with no way to fuck a girl, we might try running numbers on the combination and we could ask the math teacher what the chances of success might be to randomly hit the correct 4-number sequence. At our pre-suit-up jock cup inspections he would be checking our seven padlocks to see if they still responded properly to their unique combinations.
As the weight of the chastity cup pulling down on my personal equipment became more noticeable, the weight of the situation began to bear more heavily on my mind too. It was sort of like those Nazi concentration camp photos we had been studying in Miss Russell's history class: the camps were surrounded with barbed wire, then an electrified fence, then a wall with more barbed wire and search lights and towers with guns and then outside a mine field on the other side of the wall. Not to say it would be impossible to escape the concentration camp, but highly unlikely. A body might make it over two or three of the barriers but that would be it, it would be just a body, not a person anymore and the body would be found near the wall, and dumped in the incinerator.
Well, here we were, we 7 senior football players, some starters including myself and my 2 buddies, all sexually active taking our pleasure from admiring women, women who liked our bodies, who could get off on our hard prods ramming into their cunts. We were locked up. We could cut the padlock off, but could we get it back on so that intern wouldn't notice? And then we would be out of school, out of football, out of luck. If we got the padlock off and somehow got it back on, then surely the special plasticoat material would give us away during those suit-up laser tests. Finally, even if we dared do all of this in an attempt to touch our cocks and balls and feel like men, well, how could we break the deadbolt?
We surely would not be able to find a key to the lock. Now if we pulled hard on the egg, we would pull off our balls, so that was sort of self-defeating behavior. The two parts of the egg fit pretty tight. I guess we could possibly stick some sort of awl or screwdriver blade in there and try to spring the two halves partially open. But then it still wouldn't be coming completely off, and all we would have done was to have been allowed finger access to the trapped balls and cock, but the cock still couldn't get hard. Also, the amount of pressure needed to break through and then twist to get the egg sprung, well, any slip and the tool we would be using would go right through our balls. Again, we could probably spring the thing open a tad, but then we would probably lose our balls and our chance on the team as well.
The way it looked was that either we did something stupid and would lose our balls and never be able to fuck a babe, or we could go along with the three-month "suspension" of sexual activities. Now an 18-year-old boy thinks about sex more than any other person except one, a 17-year-old boy. So this emasculation was going to be a major trip, but our heads were on in the right direction and the chastity cups were going to "reinforce" the decision we had made to continue playing interscholastic varsity football.
At this point we were standing around, now actually not naked anymore as our reproductive organs were fully enclosed. We were standing around sort of not knowing if we should hold onto the shiny silver cups or let them ride there between our legs. The assistant coach went on to tell us that we would have to sit down to piss, just like a woman, but that very small drain holes in the bottom of the egg would let the piss flow out. We would probably also experience a small amount pre-cum flow as our balls would still be generating their full measure and we would not be shooting any loads. So this manly slime would collect in the bottom and then also drain out. We could shower, play sports, sleep, do everything we normally would do except get hard, beat off, shoot loads, and fuck.
In addition, there was the added benefit of genital protection. The hard metal cup was crush proof and almost bullet proof. The wide flat back panel would diffuse the force of any blows to the crotch. No way we could get hurt there in sports, we could go all out and not worry about our private parts. Also, it would be like wearing a protective jock cup 24 hours a day. No more knocking up against the edge of a table or the back of chair with your crotch. No more little brother playfully kicking you in the balls. Now our private parts were as hard as our abs and pecs and this would be good for sports.
He said he would be inspecting us every day for violations of the security of the chastity cups. He put the keys to the cups for each guy into a metal brief case with a combination lock. He said only the coach knew the combination to the case and the case itself would be put in the school safe where only the principal knew the combination. Of course only he knew the combinations to our padlocks. We were being given triple "protection".
Since we had avoided any trials or lawsuits there would be no public announcement of our situation but of course news would spread by word of mouth since the other guys on the team would be showering with us and then there was the issue of our girl friends. Our parents had already been contacted by the school during the afternoon and unfortunately all had been very enthusiastic about our being locked up. I guess they figured that would keep us out of trouble. Little did they know how significant this cock locking would be to our educational achievement, physical development, and future life-style choices.
He told us to put on our street clothes and head out. Not to worry about visibility. If anything the babes and even the dudes would think we were just super studs with prominent crotch-mounds. We could even go swimming in a Speedo and the chastity cup wouldn't show other than a big bulge not unlike the start of a nice hard-on. As we all heard the loud "click" on the case as it closed, we realized that now this guy could not help us out of our metal cups and only if all three men agreed: the coach, the intern and the principal, could any of us be set free. Our balls were out of our control now. The "case" was closed. I felt my cock sort of try to get hard, but nothing really happened there. Had I been free, I am sure I would have shot a full load clear across the room, but as it was, I just oozed quietly from the drain holes. I noticed the other guys walking back to the locker room also were dripping ooze from their cups, but that was about all we could do now until after the football season, just drip ooze and play ball.
It didn't take long for Missy and me to drift apart. The first time we went out after my genitals were locked up I tried to use my fingers to get her off, but I was not too good at it, hadn't really had any practice doing it before, and she missed getting my massive tool. The second time we met I tried using my mouth and tongue but that didn't give her much pleasure either. I didn't like doing that too much myself. She told me that she had her eye on a cute gymnast who had a buff built body and even though she admired my pecs and abs, she didn't think that she had to take a break from sex just because I wanted to play football.
To tell the truth, I was sort of losing interest in girls anyway, after all, what fun was it to give them all the pleasure, to see their bodies shiver with delight, to hear their gasps and groans, when all I could do was sit there and ooze and not even too much of that. I could just sit at home and study and think about how we were going to go all the way to the state championship and drip in my chastity cup.
I didn't need women right now. To be honest with you, what I really missed the most was just touching my cock and balls. I didn't realize how often I used to do that during the day and now, clunk, my frustrated hands always came to feel that smooth steel shell. At night, I didn't know what to do with my hands either, so I guess before I must have been sleeping with my hands holding my privates. That is what I missed a lot, the personal penile contact. There was almost no feeling at all; my bent prong was just hanging there in mid-air, not making contact with anything. Hard to tell if it was still hooked on to me. And of course, there was absolutely no rush of sensation, no tingling of an impending shoot, and no shooting. The girls were being protected but we were being punished.
My buddies Brent and Jason seemed to go dateless right from the start. They had a history as men who took charge of their women and rode them hard. Armed with that reputation not too many girls the last year or so had wanted to go out with them. This was probably the reason both had had girl's dads calling in rape charges to the school principal. Before their emasculation they had not developed some of the finer social graces to attract women, they were more aggressors, takers. They had not worried about how to keep a girl happy. They were mostly one-night stand men, and now their formerly up-standing parts were forced down curved and shrunk in their cups and so they were sort of at a loss for sex.
After just a week or so, the three of us were finding lots of free time on our hands, time we used to use cruising for babes, talking to babes, thinking about babes and of course fucking babes. Now we had more energy, more available hours in each day. And every time we took a step and felt that metal jock pulling down on our trapped tools we thought more and more about football and winning. We took to meeting after football practice to do extra work outs in the school weight room. As an extension of this daily playing football followed by a workout, we even would do a few hours of burn after games on Friday nights. We started coming back in to school on Saturdays and pumping more iron. The school was closed on Sundays so we met at my house and guess what, worked out some more.
We found we still had time on our hands. We didn't realize how much time we had spent on women. Now we could get all that homework done that had been slipping by us when we had to go find and fuck the ladies. We also found we didn't have to waste time talking about our sexual conquests so we had more time to talk football and we began studying college and pro games on TV, analyzing them, and the players' moves and trying them out in our school practices. We turned from being sexually oriented to females to becoming sexually oriented to football.
We began really mowing down the other teams in our games. Everything was going our way until we met Parkside. They were really strong and smart and in the end we lost. Our coach was cool. He said we still played well and that it was a close game. He thought Parkside was up for us because of the reputation we had, but that he doubted they would get through the season unbeaten so we still had a good chance at the state finals. Just to be sure we were motivated, he said that even though the principal would return the locked steel case with our keys at the end of the season, he, the coach, would not open the case for us until the end of the semester, in late January, if we didn't go all the way to the state championship.
Wow! Now we had not only the university intern, the coach and our principal in control of our balls, but that damn Parkside team was being given control of our privates. It was sort of like being some kind of slaves, we didn't have any say so in who was controlling our bodies. That week we really practiced hard and on Friday we rode the bus oozing into our jocks all the way to the game, dripped from our cups all through the game, and then even though we won, we still were hoping Parkside had lost their game. The coach had bet our balls on that game.
I had a deep ache in my groin, not from the very well designed chastity cup, but from the thought of going one month longer without sex, one more month than the original plan. My tightly bent cock was putting out a slow steady stream of juice all the way back to our school gym. As we got off the bus, the coach told us the news. Parkside had lost and although we still had to get through three more games we were pretty well sure we were going to the state finals. But he warned us that if we didn't win the state, we would be continuing through Christmas as eunuchs.
Since all the guys at school soon knew we were locked in the metal cups, we really didn't need to hide them when we worked out or took showers and so especially on Friday's after games and on Saturday's in the school weight room we just stripped down to our steel cups and pumped the iron. If anyone came in, they knew the score and it wasn't indecent as none of our privates were out in public, even if we really wanted them to be. Any situation where jock straps were acceptable, we proudly wore our shiny cups. Of course our butts were a tad more exposed, but then a jock strap doesn't really cover too much back there either.
In time all the steel-cupped guys sort of formed a bond. We didn't have much else to do but hang out together, work out, study, and of course practice and think about football. That space in our lives reserved for women was rapidly shrinking down, just as our small bent cocks were permanently shrunk, and that former babe time was being filled with football and male-male bonding. Bonding, yes, we were bonding based on our genital bondage. As the word spread, girls stopped looking at us at our school, but at first anytime we were away at a game, well, the broads were really coming on to us, our bodies now were even better than before we were locked up. I think what the coach said was true, just a few months off from sex, and when we win the state championship we will have the women waiting in line to feel our hard cocks up their cunts, waiting in line to take our massive loads.
There was only one problem, we really did miss that rush of getting "off". Right from the start, the other guys at school especially a couple damn wrestlers who thought they looked so super macho in their muscled bodies, they kept making us offers to fuck us up the ass. Of course all us steel-jock jocks would rise up from the weight benches or jump out of the showers and gang up and run them down and throw them in some punishment holds and then punch their abs good and so that sort of died down.
But then as we kept winning games and playing well the word of how we did it spread to the other schools. The girls there also stopped coming on to us, we had nothing to offer them. But the guys on the opposing teams, they started to taunt us during the games about how if we were really desperate that after the game they could ram some good male meat up our holes to help us out. Of course that just made us play even harder and we took every chance we could to smash their bodies into ground and to cause them as much pain as we could on every play. I think this started with our game at Pineville High and continued on and off all the rest of the season. No problem really, if it hadn't been our castration, they would have found something about our hair or teeth to taunt.
But a few weeks without shooting, without having that sexual release, and we were all sort of looking for something to get us through this dry season. I think it was Brent, the stud rapist who caused all this trouble, who showed up one Sunday at my house with a dildo. He suggested that the three of us experiment with it and see if we could get any relief. Of course Jason and I said no way! We were working out in the basement in just our steel cups, as was our custom. As Jason and I said no I felt some ooze drip from my cup and thought I saw Jason dripping too, but of course it could have been sweat or even piss.
Brent laid down on one of the benches I have there and stuck the dildo up his hole. He worked it around and in and out and was gasping and grunting and had both pain and pleasure on his face, more pleasure than I had seen there since the big lock up. Well, very quickly we learned that we could have some fun with a thick rubber stick up our asses and so that became our little extra activity during our private workouts. We had to be careful that word didn't get out about it. After all, being locked up was a bad enough rap to live with but we sure didn't want anyone to know we were getting off with stuffing our holes.
We couldn't really cum, but we could sure ooze. We didn't really have that great flush of relief that shooting a load gives, but we could have some lower grade pleasure. Actually, come to think of it, we were probably having about the same modest level of pleasure as most of the women we had been fucking. Back in our babe fucking days, we got that great fun of shooting our loads and most of the time they just hadn't warmed up yet. So we were causing them pleasure but not that flash of coming. Since we could not have any pleasure from our cock or balls or shooting, this rear hole work became our substitute for sex. Not only were we sitting down to piss like women, now we were lying on our backs and sticking our legs in the air like women, and we were going to have to be satisfied with a low level of sexual pleasure, also just like women. The irony was that as our worked-out bodies became even more masculine, our sex life was becoming more feminine.
After getting off on the rubber cock for a number of weeks, I began to wonder about how the real thing might feel up my hole. Of course my best buddies Brent and Jason that under normal circumstances I would ask to do the honors, well, they were locked up as tight as I was. Then I thought about that gymnast that my girl Missy was seeing, I say my girl, but I had not even talked to her since that second date after I had been neutered for the season. I would see the guy working out in the gym at school and of course I had a much better body than he did because I was both more motivated to push myself in the workouts and then had more extra pump time since I didn't have to worry about getting any girls to fuck. I noticed that he really appreciated my body.
Actually that was the thing, after the girls knew that we couldn't pleasure them, well our gym-pumped bodies did not seem to attract their attention, but the guys, well, I guess guys are always checking out rivals and for some reason, I guess since they didn't expect to be fucked by us anyway, the guys were giving us a lot more body attention, talking about our builds, feeling us up for the amazing drop in our body fat, running their hands on our pecs and abs.
Now this gymnast of course was not locked up and so when he talked to me about how much he admired my body, I could see his shorts filling and a wet spot forming down near the bottom of one pant leg. On the other hand, I was lifting there naked but for the metal shield, but of course aside from occasional cup-drooling no one could tell if I was turned on to anyone or anything. I guess that was another benefit of the metal jock... no one could tell what turned us on.
With his shorts tenting out the gymnast was definitely hard as he ran his fingers over my abs. There was no one else around so I popped the question to him, asked him if he wouldn't mind fucking me, just so I could get through to the end of the football season. I told him how bad it was to not be able to fuck and shoot and that the only relief I had had was when my locked up buddies shoved a rubber dong up my hole. I wanted to try the real thing.
Hey! Kewl! No problem, when and where? I had to coordinate with him as he also needed to see Missy and give her a good fucking. He promised he would keep all this quiet and we set a date, the following Monday about 10 p.m., after I had done my workout at the school gym. We didn't have a game that Friday so I went through school that week thinking about the Monday coming up, oozing whenever my mind wandered there.
At the private Sunday workout at my house I enjoyed the rubber fuck my buddy Jason gave me and then as he laid down and stuck his legs up in the air like a woman, and I was ramming the rubber toy in and out of his hole, I could see his eyes glaze over and could hear his breath quicken and I really enjoyed those groans of pleasure. But all the time I was doing that, I had completely forgotten about girls. I was thinking how much fun that gymnast was going to give me. Also, there was just a remote thought about how great it would be to fuck Jason's hole and then I thought about how it would feel with Jason shooting up into my body too. I was smiling and wondering how different the rubber fuck I had experienced would be from the real thing rammed home hard by the gymnast.
Well, it was different. I thought it was an improvement on the rubber fucker. I liked the idea that my body was touching another human. I liked the feel of that live hard cock up my hole. From what the gymnast said he was really enjoying himself too. He told me I was the first guy he had ever fucked, and mine was the first asshole either male or female that he had ever plowed. He liked the tight smooth fit. He liked the way my muscles clamped down on his cock. Of course I was a little embarrassed, me, one of the leading jocks and super studs of the senior class, here on my back, legs in the air, being used like a woman. It wasn't as good as beating off, it wasn't as good as ramming my prod into a lady, but it was all I could do now that I was temporarily castrated.
I said I was being used like a woman, but I had to change my mind. Now if my buddy Brent had been able to fuck me I sure would have been used like a woman. He would have rammed up my hole, plowed in deep for a few quick hard thrusts, shot, and pulled out, leaving me with a lot more pain than pleasure. Jason might have been better as a lover, listen to me! Here I was thinking about my buddies in terms of lovers! Wow! I would never have thought that before the chastity cup became my cross to bear. Still, if I had to choose, I would probably go for Jason, he just might let me have a little fun while he got his. At least he was pretty good at working the rubber dong up my tube.
Well, the gymnast was quite a different type of lover than I had been or my buddies. I learned a lot from him. I learned a lot about how to treat women. Because here I was only able to get a little pleasure and he didn't let me down. In fact he just about wore out my hole. He must have fucked me a good 45 minutes solid. He got to where he would pull out and then plug back in and he was pushing in at all different angles and speeds. I felt so good. But also he was kissing and rubbing my pecs and using his hands on them too. He just wasn't fucking me, he was making love to me, he was worshiping my body. It was really the first time that anybody had done that. Wow! What a mind trip!
Now if I had been free to fuck these last few months, I may have met up with some babe who also loved me for my built body, but in my prior limited lady laying, I really had only encountered women who wanted to get off on my cock but didn't really appreciate my total body, in fact, they were sort of hung up on their own boobs and face and all. Anyway, maybe it was because they were females and I was male but somehow I just couldn't completely connect with them, my relationships were just not as deep, not what I was feeling coming from this gymnast who was worshiping my body with his hands and mouth.
He was so nice to me, and somehow as we both grunted and gasped in manly pleasure, I began to look at him with new eyes. He was blond, smooth, and muscular, not as pumped as I was, but with all those curves in his body he was, how can I say it, feminine but manly too. His pecs were actually almost as big as Missy's had been. I reached up and took hold of them, and tried to do what he had done to me, and I got a very positive response in his eyes and perhaps more important, in his cock, he was motivated to push in higher, his cock felt like it got even harder, and he was smiling between his grunts. Wow! I never got that with the rubber anal probe Jason would ram into me. Jason would work it but somehow it wasn't as personal. Maybe if Jason had put his hand or at least some fingers up my hole... but then as one super football stud to another we really couldn't engage in that kind of behavior, at least we didn't think we could at the time.
Well, it was getting late, and we both had school tomorrow, I had jock-cup inspection and then practice followed by another workout. The gymnast needed to go too, so he went for broke now. As he was fingering my pecs, squeezing my tits and as I was sort of running my hands over his pecs and feeling his abs getting their workout both in helping pump air into his gasping lungs and helping ram home his hard prod up my hole, well, he came down close to me with his mouth, put his mouth on my mouth and we, how can I say it without turning red? We kissed. That mouth to mouth connection seemed to provide a spark of electricity for his final plunge and my final anal ring contraction and I could feel his load blast inside my body. Wow! Now I knew what those babes felt when I was shooting into them. Now I knew what a woman felt and I just might become a better lover of the ladies after I was let out of my steel jock.
I know this sounds totally crazy, but I felt so good that just a brief flash of an idea went through my head, like maybe if the gymnast and I got married we could fuck like this all the time. What was I saying? I couldn't marry a guy. We couldn't even see each other all that much, I mean what would my buddies say? It was one thing to be cock-locked as a wild manly stud, but I sure didn't want to be one of those goddamn fucking faggot queers. We had to be careful here, if anyone found out how much fun I had had getting fucked, well, they might get the wrong idea, might think I was a homosexual. No, it was like with the rubber dongs with Brent and Jason, we were just doing what we had to do under the temporary circumstances of being denied our true sexual release, our private parts now so private no one not even we ourselves could touch them, cock so confined that it could never shoot, never get hard.
Well, after feeling neutered by the hard steel trap on my balls, the rush I had with a warm-blooded human just now, well, I began to feel more alive, more like a person and less like a weightlifting pec-flexing robot drone. I may not have been a man any more, but at least I was a human. I sure hoped the gymnast didn't mind coming back again. A couple more sessions with him up my hole and I could make it to December. Then the women better watch out when I started going to all those Christmas parties. My cock and balls were going to have to make up for this 3-month coach-ordered castration.
"Yeah mom! We finished our workouts! I'll be up in a minute." The gymnast pulled on his clothes and we both walked up the stairs from my home gym room. His cock was safely down and in his jeans now and mine was hanging short and small in my shiny steel restraint. Mom didn't suspect anything as we walked through the kitchen, she was used to seeing me wear only my security jock around the house and interpreted the clear liquid dripping from the bottom of the cup and more flowing out of my ass hole, well, she saw it as sweat from the night's basement workout. "You better take a shower before bed!" "Yeah mom! I will!"
Two things I sort of forgot to mention before. One was that university intern. Everyday he inspected us for breach of security he had to squat down and handle our locked jocks. I think we all sort of imagined him sucking us off down there with his head in line with our encased equipment. Of course a fucking hetero athletic coach like him would never do anything like that, but just as he was about the only one paying attention to our crotches we sort of imagined what it might be like to shoot a load into his mouth. Well, none of us could do anything like that but I guess we sort of thought that he was the idea behind all of this and so we might make him suffer by plugging his mouth with our tools. Just a thought, as we more often thought about getting back to fucking women, hell, with our cocks forced down bent and small and the sensitive tip held out in the air in the middle of the cup, not able to touch anything, not able to be touched, not able to grow, to fill, to rise up: locked down for the season, we would have been satisfied with just a good jerk off, but even that was not in the offing.
The other thing which shows how little things change when you get locked up like we were, well, those team busses didn't have very good shocks, or maybe not any at all, and we used to complain about how hard riding and rough riding they were. The rest of the team still did, but we 7 seniors began to quiet down about that. I don't think we really compared notes on it at first, it just sort of snuck up on us, but what I mean is that our balls were held in suspension in those hard metal cups and that there was no sensation of touch or anything there. It was like they were cut off, like we were castrated. We really didn't feel like we had balls anymore, except... except... when there was a sharp quick blow to the body or to the cup. This happened sometimes in practice, sometimes in the games, but the only sustained vibrations were when we rode the bus.
Then there was an almost constant pat of the balls up against their metal prison. Not enough to get off, not enough to even feel really good, but at least we were getting little signals that our equipment was still there. Sort of like the red light blinking on a call answering machine, there was a little mental red light blinking in our heads, flickering on for a second at each bounce. We all began to look forward to the long bus rides and we also knew that if we won the league then our regional playoffs would mean even longer rides and of course to get to the state championship games, well, our balls would be buzzing all the way down there.
We experimented with seating until we found the locations with the most severe bounces and then kicked the other guys out of those seats so we could have some little low-level pleasure. While the juniors on our team could ride holding their cocks in their pants, touching their balls, maybe getting hard and even shooting a load right there in the dark of the bus thinking about the cheerleader they were going to plow after the game, while they were doing manly things, we closed-cup guys could only get a little buzz or two going in our balls and then only enough for a couple drops of fluid to drain out the bottom of the jocks and into our pants, just a couple little spots, nothing like the puddles of cum pouring and shooting from those junior players.
I invited the gymnast over on Thanksgiving afternoon to "workout" and he did come and we went down to the basement and got to it. He told me that he had fucked Missy several times since he left me and he had to admit that he really enjoyed my tight hole better, he really liked the way my muscles clamped down on his prong. He went on for a long time and I was really enjoying it. He started kissing me again and I was kissing back. We both put tongue and lips to work on the other guy's chest and mid section and arms and shoulders and neck. After stroking my moaning Adam's apple he clamped his lips on mouth and plunged in with his tongue. Well I didn't like that, here he was pushing into both my holes at the same time. I again had feelings of him taking me like I was a woman.
But then I told myself that he was really doing me a favor by plugging my ass for me and so it was sort of only fair that I let him fool around inside my mouth. After all, he wasn't asking me to suck his cock or anything queer like that. And after I got out of my cup, well, I planned to fuck him good and I could play the man in his mouth then too. I thought he was about done kissing me but then he pulled out of my ass hole and without asking just pushed his cock into my mouth. Well, it didn't feel good at first, but after I got over the negative feelings of being turned into a cocksucker, well, it was OK. I didn't get the same good direct pleasure I had with him up my hole, but especially when I felt that velvet tip moving around on the roof of my mouth and then plunging down my throat, well, it was a nice feeling too. As I was taking his cock in my mouth I was already thinking how it would be when I could ram mine down his throat and I was going to have to see if I couldn't do something like that with the intern. I thought that after I got out of my jock lock and had reestablished myself with the ladies, I could look up the intern and polish his tonsils with my tool.
The gymnast went home totally exhausted as he had shot five or six loads up my ass and two or three more down my throat. I was smiling too, I had had just about as much fun as a guy can have while temporarily castrated. As I went to bed I dreamed... well, to be honest with you, not really of women, but of the gymnast, but also I could see myself fucking Jason and giving him the pleasure of my prod. I could imagine Jason up my hole too. Then I thought of Brent and if he were to rape me, well, it would be a trip. I smiled, my ass hole contracted and released several times as I put my hands on my cup, and quietly oozed myself to sleep.
Well, we made it to the state finals. No problem. We fought hard in the last game and there were several times when we were behind, but the other side was only playing for the title; we were playing for our balls and cocks, and that made the difference. In the final minutes, although they could still have threatened us, we were feeling good and sure we would win. When the gun sounded and we had won, we were really happy. A quick shower and then they bus-buzzed our balls back up to the school and the coach and principal met us in the locker rooms. The principal had unlocked the safe and the coach had his steel case already open. It was agreed that we 7 seniors would have one big beat off when we were released. The intern unlocked the padlocks, used a special laser heater to melt and pop off the plasticoat seal, and then inserted the main key running back the deadbolt and springing open the jocks. He reached inside each cup pulled back the sac retainer spring, then told us it was up to each guy to get his balls back out through the hole and his cock too. It took some work as the balls were pretty large and full of cum and the now stirring cock was also not too bendable. But in a while we were all lined up in the showers and we had agreed to compete for distance and volume. It didn't really take any of us much time to shoot. I don't have to tell you that Brent was the double winner, those babes sure have missed a lot the last few months.
It was late and we quickly went home with Brent and Jason planing to come over to my house and work out on Saturday. I wore myself out that night beating off in my bed and thinking... thinking not particularly of girls, but of Brent and Jason. We had agreed during our rubber dong sessions that when released we would save ourselves for each other on the first day, then we would go after the ladies. I could hardly wait to feel Brent's power up my hole and I sure wanted to see if a guy's rectum, any guy's, but particularly Jason's, if Jason's rectum was as nice a ride as the gymnast had told me mine was.
Well the next day was not disappointing and in fact that day alone sort of made the wait all season worth it. I did enjoy fucking and being fucked and the three of us working on each other's mouths and ass holes pretty much all day, shooting as many loads as a healthy athletic 18-year-old could. It was really fine to be able to feel our cocks and balls swinging and see them rising proud. We even just got off on lifting weights and working out naked and seeing our prods never dropping past 90 degrees with our abs. Those rubber dildos we had been using didn't have anything on us, three real men "up" for action in their prime fucking years. As the guys left we all were talking about making plans to hook up with some women, probably middle of the week. We would have to check the babes out, couldn't fuck just any old cunt. We had been away so long, we would have to make sure they were especially good. Couldn't just take the first one that came along, that wouldn't do for our reputations.
I didn't tell the guys but on Sunday I had the gymnast come over and I pretty much gave it to him up and down and in both his holes. It was so neat to see him gasping and panting like a woman. He had confessed that he had stopped seeing Missy, she just wasn't tight enough for him and she didn't have a hard enough body, and well, he sort of swallowed twice, he told me my weight-trained pecs were actually more attractive than the ones on Missy. In short, between Missy and myself, I was the better woman, the better man-servicer. He worshiped my body and this was particularly true when he knelt down to pay his respects to my cock with his mouth. I owed him a lot, he had taught me how to be a better lover, and I put it to work fucking him hard and feeling up his body at the same time. When I needed to take a break, I let him fuck me, but in the end I had enjoyed his body about 5 times for every time he had mounted me.
Well, Monday the basketball team was going to be organized and Brent, Jason, and I were all pretty sure we would be starters there. Even last year we had lettered in three sports: football, basketball, and track, and we didn't see how it would be any different this year. Basketball is played closer to the audience and the uniforms are much more revealing than the football ones; we would be able to show off our biceps, shoulders, our whole bodies to all those babes in the stands. Wouldn't be too long before we would be plowing cunt. Babes and basketball, not a bad way to spend the winter. Of course, our school was not as good in basketball, no way we could go to the state, but it would be fun playing out the regular season.
The next day we reported after school to the gym and did our tryouts, well, most of the team did their tryouts. The coach, this guy was different from the football coach who had gone back to his geometry classes now. This coach was the driver's training teacher and taught a class or two in civics, but his main reason for being there was to coach basketball. The coach told me and several other guys that he didn't need to do tryouts with us as he knew us from last year and wanted us on the team. This speeded up the selection process and fairly quickly the coach had his team together and thanked the other guys for trying out. There were several on the team that had been on the football team and there were quite a few seniors on the final basketball selection, but there were only three guys who had been on the football team, were now on the basketball team and were seniors. You've guessed it! Brent, Jason, and me.
The coach sent the juniors and lesser beings to the showers and asked the seniors to meet him in the training room. I'm sure we were expecting to hear his inspirational speech, about how this was the last time we could play for our school and how he was sure we could go all the way. Of course we all knew that we couldn't, but we would humor him with our attention.
I got a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw the principal standing there along with that damn university intern. I think all three of us buddies made a mental note to take that assistant coach intern out and fuck his ass for him sometime later that week. That heavy feeling in my stomach was quite justified as the principal told us that he was very impressed with the academic record of the 7 football seniors, how the faculty had told him how well prepared we were in each class, how much time we spent studying. We knew where he was going with all this, my cock knew, it was hard, desperately hard in my practice shorts. He went on to say that with that and in concurrence with the coach and with our parents, he had ordered that any seniors playing basketball be locked in steel jocks for the season.
I felt a low groan in my throat, but I swallowed hard and kept it down in my chest.
Well, the weird thing was that not only did I want to play basketball, I was actually thinking that it might be "fun" to go another few months in the tight emasculating restraints.
The principal left and the coach took over, he gave us the same offer as the football coach, take it or leave it. He had his team picked out, the 10 seniors, well, if any of us didn't want to play, he would have enough guys from the juniors who could fill in. He sent us to the showers, told us do our farewell beat off and load shoot and then shower and report back in 10 minutes. Any guy who didn't want to play could go on home, no hard feelings. Actually, it would be the guys who did want to play who would have no "hard" feelings, no hard-ons till the regular season ended just before the March madness.
Well, Brent, Jason, and I looked at each other and we knew: we could see it the other guys' eyes. We were going for it! As it turns out, all 10 guys went for it. What is it they say about the castration complex? We all have it? Well, this was certainly a way to experiment with castration, and play ball too! We 10 would be playing ball all right but not playing with our balls.
Without boring you with the details, the scene was very similar to that cup-fitting day at football practice. The intern told us that although we three guys were getting the same jock we had before, he had installed a new main lock that worked only with a new key, and that he had changed the combination on our three "tamper" locks. It took a little longer to get all the guys in, but pretty soon we 10 were all standing there naked but for the silver jock cups, listening to the intern's speech on how "secure" we were.
Then the basketball coach joined us for a few final words. I wasn't paying much attention as I was already figuring that I could get through Christmas and then it would be January and February and I would be out and fucking. Plenty of time to line up a broad for the spring prom. In the meantime, if I got horny I could always get the gymnast to come over and ride my hole. Not to worry about March because we knew we weren't going to any March Madness playoffs, not with our team. Then something sort of flashed in my ears, I didn't really exactly hear what the coach was saying, but there were some words coming through now and again. I couldn't hear him because my ears were buzzing, my head was flushing red, and I could feel a drip or two of pre-cum sliding out of the bottom of the jock cup. I heard things like "going all the way"... "state champions"... "if not, the locks stay on until the end of school".
Until the end of school! Wait a minute! I wanted to raise my hand and protest, but I looked around and the rest of the guys were just standing there in a military "at ease" almost like emasculated zombies, taking it. I guess the coach had us by the balls now and he could do what he wanted. Well, I was sure we wouldn't win or even get to the playoffs, so if we didn't have any snow days, it would be early June when I got to get personal with my prick again. After basketball I was going out for track. I wondered how this heavy metal jock was going to feel running the high hurdles? Well, I should get used to its rhythmic pull running up and down the basketball court and going up for shots or jump balls and then coming back down. I should feel like I have super heavy male equipment. If I didn't pull my balls off in basketball, then track should be a breeze. Let's see now neither uniform would be as "supportive" of the steel jock as the football uniform had been. Well, at least now I wouldn't have to worry about any basketball fouls below the belt and then later I could afford to approach those high hurdles in a pretty aggressive manner. I wondered how loud the "clunk" would be when any two of us senior b-ballers might happen to run into each other face-to-face on the court.
What about the prom? Well maybe Brent, Jason and I could come and dance with each other. Bring that gymnast along and we could double date. Except I'd rather dance with Jason. What am I saying here? I'm a stud, a hetero. It is just that I can't show my true bedroom talent with the broads until at least March if not until, groan..., June.
About Wednesday I had to take a shit when I was in third hour. I got the potty pass and bopped down to the john. Now at our school we had stalls for the bowls but no doors, a security measure. The urinals also had little panels on each side. Of course the whole school knew I was locked up and so during the football season they got used to seeing me bypass the urinals and go straight for the toilet bowls to do my business, either type of business. I was just going to make it to the toilet in time and as I jogged past the front of the stalls I noticed one was occupied by the gymnast, pants down around his ankles. "Sup? Had to take a shit too?" "Not me!... on both counts." I held up fast and took one step back to see the ugly glint of hard cold steel flashing up from his crotch. "No!" "Yeah! It's true; they got the whole school. All the senior jocks! Not a one of us escaped!"
My head was spinning with all the feelings I was having. God! No more fucking up my hole! How can I make it now! Only that rubber dong, or else get some senior wimp geek or a cock-hard junior to help me out. But I remembered the sight of the gymnast's hard tool, how he must have felt with it up my ass or down my throat. I think I was feeling sad and empty that he would not be in me until March or whenever his season was over, but I was also feeling some perverse thrill knowing he was not going to have anymore hard-ons or shoot any more loads, he was not going to be able to enjoy his big thick johnson or his balls either. I liked the idea that someone had locked him up. Serves him right! Trying to fuck my ass, trying to kiss me too! Goddam fucking queer faggot. Good thing you're steel jocked. But that line of thinking was gone in a flash and I told him how sorry I was. He finished his piss, waited for the jock to drain out, and left and I was alone sitting, shitting, and sweating.
It was a good thing I was on the bowl; I shit and shit and shit. My hole muscles were sagging open and then snapping closed and then hanging open again. I just could not believe it. I was not going to be able to have that guy up my ass for at least a couple of months. I didn't think I could take it.
Since I had a few more minutes left on my potty pass, instead of returning to class, I went down to the athletic intern's office. As he was the guy who inspected us every day. Jason and I had sort of joked that he should hang a sign on his door: Office of Crotch Control.
I pushed open the door and presented my crotch to the controller. He said he had a few minutes off and I sat down, head in hands, tears in my eyes, and told him I just couldn't go on, I was thinking of dropping out of basketball. He put his arms around my workout-widened shoulders and comforted me and I continued to sob my guts to him, about how the guys and I were fucking each other with rubber dongs and then how I found a free-cocked guy to fuck me for real and then I found out that he too was locked up now. I just had to have some sort of sex; I couldn't go on as an emasculated teen. He told me to relax and he had several possible solutions and that I wouldn't have to drop out of basketball.
He stood up, pushed the lock on the door, loosened his belt, and dropped his trousers. My mind was racing that he was going to fuck me up my ass! Wow! What a trip, the assistant coach riding my butt! He was about 22 or 23, and a real man. I'm sure he had been around and knew how to give a woman pleasure. I would learn a lot from him. I could hardly wait to see his manly tool. But when he reached up and pushed his underpants down to his knees. No! Not that! Another damn steel jock! So he was locked into one too?
I was full of questions. How long? Why? Who had the keys? He sat down in his hard silver jock and told me that ever since he was 18 and a freshman at the university he had worn a crotch control device. He wasn't always locked up, but except for some widely spaced stopwatch-timed load-shoot releases in the last 5 years his private parts had been secured under tight control. His story would come later, but for now he told me that he understood my situation, his balls felt for my balls. Some of the other jocks at our school would only be locked up for a couple of months during their sport's season, and then they would be fucking free for the rest of the year. He realized that the three of us, Brent, Jason and I, had already been forced-chaste for a while and had a long way to go. He was going to talk to the coach about some sort of periodic release so we could shoot our loads and feel like men.
It was a few days before the plan was worked out. In the mean time, I made do with lying face down on my basement weight bench and having Brent ram my hole with the nastiest dildo he could find. He pushed so hard my entire body was rocked forward on the bench, he pushed the air out of my lungs. I was going grunt... grunt... grunt... and not only because of the feelings in my hole but because of the air flowing out of my chest and mouth. I looked back and saw Brent 's double-peaked biceps flexing and ramming. It was really great have a man work my hole, even if it wasn't directly with his cock. I could never let a wimp faggot back there, but with Brent, well, it was ok because he was my buddy, built like a superhero action figure, and of course had a long track record of fucking women.
One day before practice the three of us, Brent, Jason and me, were called down to see the coach. He told us of the modified plan, just for us. He restated that if we didn't win the state like the football team had done, we were to continue crotch-locked for the rest of the school year. I guess it didn't matter at this point since if we went out for track we would have been forced to endure the continued emasculation anyway. He had talked with the principal, who of course did not want any of us free to fuck females while we played sports. But the principal agreed that we could visit our cocks and balls for a very limited time in a school-controlled situation. The coach himself would have the combinations and the keys. Coach and the intern assistant would, from time to time, unlock us, then leave the office for 5 minutes, we could do what we wanted in that 5 minutes, no one else would be in the office, and we would not leave. Of course if we left, we were out of the program, off the team. After 5 minutes he and the intern would return to the room and lock us back up.
The coach would set the goals and timelines for each release. One of us might make it, all of us might, or any two. It was also possible that on some goals no guy would make it. Then the coach would just go on and set up the goals and timelines for the next release. Since he already had said that if we did not win the state championship, we would continue to be eunuchs until the last day of school, these other goals and timelines would be smaller and shorter, sort of like our cocks now short and small and bent down tight in the strong steel traps.
The first goal was sort of surprising. He said it was to score at least 98 on the history exam next Monday. How did he know about that? Well, I usually did something close to that, maybe 95 or so, and Jason was down in the 90 range, and Brent, well, he was more like a 70 guy in history. So the rest of the week, in addition to practice, and to working out, we also did extra study. We formed a study team. We gave ourselves quizzes. We thought up all possible questions Miss Russell might ask, and then we figured out the answers and checked each other on it. This was sort of neat, really. I thought I had a pretty good chance of visiting my cock, Jason was not so sure about himself, but of course I wanted him to be free too. Brent, well, it would be a miracle, but we still tried.
On the crucial day, we came to school dripping pretty steady. If we had been free, our cocks would have been full hard and up. The test seemed a lot easier than the others we had taken. It must have been the study and group prep that we did. We had to wait two days for the results; our balls involuntarily held in the balance. And then the class got the tests back. I had scored 99, Jason 98, and Brent 90. Wow! Double-peak biceps Brent? 90?
The coach was as good as his word. One thing I had not understood was that we all got to stay in the room, even if we weren't getting out of our jocks. So this meant that both Jason and I were free but Brent was not. Jesus! What to do? What a choice! The thing was it was very hard to get out of those cups as our equipment was already "ready to go". We had to use a lot of cold water and pull and push to get the balls out and then the cocks. Fortunately the coach didn't start the time until both Jason and I were completely free. This first session we ended up with me fucking Jason and Jason fucking Brent. Then we had time to have Brent suck me off as I was fucked by Jason. It was a fast 5 minutes but I think Jason and I both shot at least 2 loads. It didn't take the coach and the intern long to push us back in our jocks and lock us in tight.
It was a good thing that we had had that time a few weeks before to really get to know each other's bodies. This 5 minutes was really sort of an extension of the punishment because we were racing the clock to get a load off before we were locked up again. Fortunately we were able to perform. It would have been really terrible if we hadn't been able to shoot. We did shoot, except for Brent, and even he got to feel me in his throat and Jason up his rectum, so he got a little out of it too. I guess like a dog marking his territory with his urine, I had staked out my claim to both my buddies by marking them with my cum.
It was sort of weird, here we were on school time, on school property, and I was "officially" shooting into two male studs. Well, I guess technically it wasn't "official". All the coach did was let us out of our jocks for 5 minutes. What we did with our equipment was up to us.
It also was kind of neat seeing Jason and myself free and Brent still locked up. I mean if this were the cave-man days, I would imagine that Brent may have been able to overpower most any guy and "take" the other man's women, yet here he was bulging with raw male force but with his cock locked down tight. We had been reading in history about how in the early empires when an army was defeated, the losing military guys were often castrated but then forced to work as slaves for the victors, the victors in the meantime busy raping all the new women. Well, I had that image of Brent as the muscular but defeated enemy soldier, no longer able to fuck, and of course as Jason and I used his body for our pleasure, we were the victors, at least for 5 minutes. And who knew, maybe on our next challenge, I would lose and play the role of slave to the triumphant double-peak biceps Brent.
Now the coach knew us pretty well and knew our athletic ability. For the next goal and timetable he set 500 sit-ups to be done in one session of no more than 15 minutes and we had two weeks to train up to that level. So we knew that in two weeks we might be out again if only for 5 minutes. In this case, Brent, the super stud jock, was probably at close to 500 already. Jason and I, well, being jocks and having worked out continuously since the start of the football season, we were within striking range of the goal. The three of us started doing lots of sit-ups in our workout routines. We all noticed the drool dripping from the other guys' chastity cups as we crunched our abs up to that goal. As it turned out, all three of us made it this time and I enjoyed having Brent ram up my hole and then we let him go at Jason 's butt before the time ran out. While Brent was up mine, I was up Jason and then when Brent switched, Jason was up mine. I sort of got to appreciate Brent twice. Once directly with his manly thrusts, and then on the second round, each lunge he made up Jason forced Jason to make a nice cock-hard in and out over my prostate.
In some ways these 5-minute releases were almost more life-style altering than the long-term jock lock. I mean, as we were working to win our releases we were now thinking about how the other guys' holes would feel to our cock or how it would be with them up our hole and we played that videotape in our head over and over. Then it happened, so fast, we almost couldn't even think we were going for those load shoots so desperately. And then the following days, the new mental videotape would play in our heads. Brent's thrusts got deeper and rougher on each replay, and Jason's anal ring snapped tighter and clutched more forcefully too. We might not even have been fucking each other had we been let out of school to seek someone else, but with these school supervised 5 minute load shoots, the fun one guy could have with another was automatically reinforced in our still forming psyches. I didn't know any other guys in our school who male-male-male bonded like we did.
We had some other school academic challenges, some direct team challenges such as getting above a certain level of points in a particular game, and more PT challenges in the amount of weights lifted or the number of reps or both. I didn't always make it but even just having a possible chance to get out of my jock was really great for my mental health. I began to realize that since I had met that gymnast in my house, and then with Brent and Jason on that one weekend between sports seasons, and then again with the gymnast, and now with the several sessions I had had enjoying Brent and Jason, well, here it was getting well over half my senior year and my sex life was 100% male oriented. Of course that was only because it had to be, I was sure that if the coach would let us have a woman in his office we could very easily and rapidly have filled her cunt and then switched off. But of course we only had ourselves to work with, so we made the best of a bad situation.
I began to lie in bed at night and remember how much pleasure I had had ramming up my buddies' holes and also how much fun I felt with them up my butt too. We didn't have much time for love making, just fucking. But in our rubber dildo sessions, each of us had begun to develop some of those techniques the gymnast had taught me. Some pec rubbing, nipple tonguing, and biceps and abs touching. In fact I think we sort of replayed the mental videotape of those freed-cock fuck sessions when we did our jock-locked rubber anal probe workouts. You know, it was almost like we were married, we three guys. We spent a lot of time together; we knew each other's bodies on a very personal basis. We enjoyed each other's personalities, we admired each other's looks, we appreciated each other's reproductive equipment and we liked each other's holes.
I had to admit that before we got going with the "relief" sessions, I was beginning to eye some other guys. At the mall or even at the Burger King, I was checking out all the males, the workers, the customers. If they looked like they had a tight butt and some abs, well, I was mentally marking them down both as potentially prodding my hole as well as perhaps some day riding their rear too. This survey of available males sort of died down when I started being able to fuck my buddies regularly, but it worried me. Was I turning gay?
One time the coach set the goal to be to "pass" a test in pre-calculus. This was the time that all three of us failed to make it. We didn't get to have sex for quite a while after that. However, the pre-calculus goal was a good one in that all three of us did improve from deep low failing to just below passing. Still, we were not good enough and we continued our temporary castration for a few more weeks. It looked like that in order to graduate from high school and then be able to go on to college, in spite of the offers of scholarships that had been coming our way, it looked like we might need to go to summer school to make up that low grade. We might have to take that pre-calculus course over. We might need to have some sort of "strong" motivation to do well. We might not want to be distracted by babes tanning by a pool. We might need something to "lock" our attention on the academic task at hand.
If we ever got out of high school, it looked like each of us three buddies would be splitting up. Brent was going to join the Marines. Jason had a basketball scholarship to the state university. And I had a football scholarship to the local college. Each of us had received several offers and we took what we thought was the best for each of us.
On a couple of these offers we got to go for a weekend to visit a university or college and talk with the coaches and players and see a game. Part of the visit meant that we got to stay in their athletic dorm and have meals with the jocks there. Our reputation had preceded us and they all wanted to see and feel our chastity cups and talk about our voluntary castration. In several cases, we got to the point of telling them how much we missed having sex and so that night in the dorm room they would organize a little party to help us out. I can still remember the trip that Jason and I went on to a big state university in an adjoining state. We really learned a lot about the school, the sports program, and we had personal contact with most of the guys on the team, very personal contact, like up our holes. It was fun the following weeks to watch some of these teams play on TV. "Wasn't he the one that had that really long dick with the big bulge at the tip?" "Yeah! Wow! I can still feel him slamming his prong up my ass." "Yeah, and I can still hear you moaning and grunting and ohgodding." Yes! After my limited sexual experience with the gymnast and then my 2 buddies, well, I got a broader perspective as I was being fucked like a broad by these NCAA jocks.
I don't know much about subliminal interpersonal communication, but I did learn something about it during my emasculated senior year. Of course the women at my school soon knew about my castration and even though I was at first looking at them with the same eyes I always had, picking out targets of opportunity, comparing breasts, noting hips, even detecting odors, the girls were polite but not coming back with the same looks they had given me in my cock-free days. I guess they knew that I was no longer man enough to satisfy them. But what was really strange is that when I would be out and see broads who were not from my school, they were also not coming back with looks like before. It was almost like I was standing there naked so they could see my solid steel jock cup. But they couldn't, so were they reading something in my eyes? Was I telling them in some unconscious way that I was locked up, that I couldn't do them any good? I wonder. I got to thinking I must have a sign on the back of my shirt reading: "no longer able to fuck".
The other weird thing is about the men. For most of the time after my buddies and I started getting regular cock releases I was not so worried about where my next sexual rush was going to come from, so I was not looking much at guys. I was still looking at girls, but they weren't much interested in me. But as I told you there were a few times where we missed our goals and then we would have to go for a few more weeks locked up. As the juice from not being able to shoot began to build up in my trapped balls, I guess that subconsciously I was sort of hungering for a hot throbbing cock up my ass. As I told you earlier, I found myself evaluating potential fuckers much as under the other circumstances I had been assessing the ladies. I found that my eyes were sort of stripping the clothes off guys I would see at the mall, or in stores.
I had to get a part for my car and went in to the GM dealership and saw Tony, wow! What a stud! He was about 25 but had those shoulders that sloped down at 45 degrees, indicating he lifted and had very little fat on his torso. As he was filling out the sale forms with his biceps bulging as he wrote, I was wondering about the size and shape of his prod and how he would feel ramming up my rectum. It happened that later that day, that night, I was at a Baskin-Robbins getting a cone on my way home and this Tony dude walks in with a woman on his arm, obviously his girl, but you know it didn't seem to phase me, I still stood there and now I could see his high tight butt and I knew with muscles like that, he would be able to ram me good. The strange thing was that Tony sort of picked up on my looking. He didn't say for me to drop my pants as he was coming right over, he didn't say anything, but I think his eyes knew that I was interested, I think he also knew that I was not a threat. I was not a rival, I was not going to take his girl, not while I was cock-locked, that was for sure.
But the real incident happened a few days later when I was getting my hair cut at a style salon in a strip mall. They had several operators, all females, and there were about 5 customers. Two of them getting cut at the same time as I was were what appeared to be a set of buddies. I say that because they dressed pretty much alike, and had hair cuts alike, and they had builds alike too. They had different faces, so I don't think they were brothers, but they were definitely on the same page with each other. They were getting their high and tight buzz-cuts trimmed. I got the feeling they were jocks with a little bit of military attitude. They were very neat, clean, and the cuts they had chosen just went along with that too. It happened that all three of us were finished at the same time. Their operators were having trouble ringing up the sales, so I got to stand there and see their butts and also their full-packed crotches, real men. I also noticed their Adam's apples: also a good sign of low percent body fat. They had semi-muscular necks around their prominent Adam's apples.
I was standing there dripping into my jock cup, not enough to flow out of the bottom yet. I was thinking how would it feel to fuck their butts. Well, at this point, and I hadn't said anything, they both turned and looked at me. We looked at each other for a few moments. I think they said "Sup?" and turned around. My operator was able to get another cash register going and she finished with me just a few seconds before the other two women had the other register going to complete the sale to the two guys.
I was parked one store down and then around the corner and down a small row where there was a gap between the strip mall stores. Actually I think it might have been that they were two separate malls just located adjacent to each other. Anyway I had turned the corner and was stepping down toward my car. There were no windows on either wall that lined this parking area, just the solid brick walls of the adjoining stores. I had almost made it to my car when I sort of felt something grab at my body, something like a pickpocket I thought. As I turned to see who it was, I found I couldn't turn as some guy had put both his arms around my arms and then he pulled my elbows back. At this point a second man stepped in front of me and I recognized him as one of the two high and tights and so obviously his buzz-cut buddy was holding me from behind. This guy repeated his "Sup?" And I came back with a "Sup? Dude" myself. He then said that he didn't like the way I had looked at him in the hair saloon and he was going to teach me a little lesson so I wouldn't do it again.
His buddy pulled back on my arms leaving my pecs and abs open to the coming attack. Of course the dude didn't realize that I worked out every day and so the two or three punches he threw sort of bounced off. His hand hurt him a lot more that it hurt me. He rubbed his sore paw, like maybe he had hit a brick wall. Then I saw the evil glint in his eye and as his buddy hiked my body back and over one of his wide-planted legs, hiked me back so I too was forced to spread open my legs, the glint-eyed one came at my crotch with the kind of foot action I had only seen in a good soccer match. His sneering smile turned to open-mouthed amazement as his foot hit something as hard as steel there in my crotch. "Owww! I broke my foot!" He was screaming as he hopped around on only one leg, and dropping my arms his buddy rushed to give him some aid.
With my arms free, a couple quick jabs to each guy's narrow little midsections and they were sprawled on the concrete gasping for air as their abs had sort of temporarily checked out of the torso air-exchange assistance business. As I drove off I could see they were groggily beginning to stand, holding bruised body parts, and shaking their freshly trimmed heads. I recalled that the intern had told us that another advantage to being locked in the steel jock cup was that it afforded 24 hour "protection" against major blows to our most sensitive parts. Well, I was one satisfied customer that day.
After the gymnast finished his season and his male equipment was released, he was able to go back to filling my hole when I needed it. It turned out that each of us three buddies: Brent, Jason and I; we had all made special arrangements for getting live male poles up our holes. I forget how I found out, but somehow Jason let it slip that those two wrestlers with the macho muscled bodies, the guys who taunted us when we first lost the use of our cocks, well, he had hooked up with them and the two of them would come over to his house and take turns riding his butt for him. I was sort of envious of those wrestlers because that reminded me how nice Jason 's hole had been to my cock too. Well, I couldn't blame Jason, I knew he was as bad off as I was and just now I couldn't help him out in a personal but manly way.
Jason and I had both wondered why Brent was going to the Marines and not going to college to play sports. Still we knew he would win "most athletic" in boot camp, and could probably earn enough benefits to go on to college later. Also, come to think of it, Brent sort of looked like a Marine. He had those three sizes too small ears that stuck almost straight out from the head. That, and his whole head sort of looked small, I mean when you looked up from his narrow waist, then the flared lats and pecs with his nipples set right at the edges, the nipples actually past the bend in the muscle, like a pair of corner turning headlights that had loosened in their brackets and tilted down; his nipples pointed down and to the side, sort of aiming at the floor just outside where he feet would have been had he been standing "at ease". At 18 he had the same type of shoulders as that GM gymhog stud Tony. Brent's 45-degree slope shoulders tilted down from a very thick neck. It was probably that thick neck, something you might find on a large fighting dog, that made Brent's head look small. The small head, wide neck, tiny ears, double-peaked biceps, honed body and physical attitude. Yes, it did make sense, this former ladies-fucker would make a good Marine.
Although we three jock-locked buddies had tried to keep a part of our sex lives private, the part where other guys were mounting us and we were liking it, well, since we were spending so much time together and reading each other like open books, we eventually too were able to hear Brent's story about joining the Marines.
He told us he had seen one of the recruiting officers at a desk in the hall at school one day, picked up some brochures and then went down to talk some more at the recruiting office. The recruiter asked him if he had a criminal record and Brent told him no but almost. The recruiter asked him to explain, and Brent told the whole story from the rape to the steel jock trap. The recruiter wanted to see the jock and Brent dropped his pants to show him. The recruiter couldn't believe it and of course immediately asked Brent how it was to not have sex for so long. Brent told him about the rubber dong sessions and the joint buddy-fuck sessions we had been having during the basketball season. It must have been one of those times when none of us made the goals and so Brent had not been man-fucked in several weeks.
At this point the recruiter asked Brent if he needed some Marine-to-Marine help. Brent said he could use some. And the recruiter, not wanting to let an unsatisfied customer out of his office, the Marine dropped his own pants and plugged Brent's hole for him. Ever the salesman, the officer said that Marines always helped each other out, that this manly asshole riding would be a regular feature of life in the Marines, and so on the strength of the recruiter's hot-throbbing cock up his hole, Brent signed on. Brent told us that after that he had a standing appointment with the officer. Every few days, Brent said, he would drive over to the recruiting station, park and trot in for his Marine fucking.
So the three of us got through the basketball season and the track season in good shape, just enough load shoots to keep us goal oriented, just enough real guys up our holes to keep us feeling good. The sessions in the coach's office helped make us three guys even better buddies and closer friends.
I had told you earlier that my mother actually sort of preferred that I wear only my steel jock around the house. Perhaps she liked to look at my muscular butt, but I think the real reason was that although she did not hold the key to my cock and balls, she had totally supported the idea when the coach called. I think she felt as long as she could see that jock locked on me, I would be safe from disease, safe from causing unwanted pregnancies, safe from being trapped in a forced marriage. There would be time enough later for me to meet a nice girl, fall in love, and have children, but in the meantime, I was safe from making any youthful mistakes. I was graduating from high school, I had lettered in three sports, I was earning a scholar-athlete award, and I had earned a full scholarship to college. For her, it was important that that chastity cup be secure every day until the last day of school. That I was taking guys up my ass, and once in a while getting to fuck Brent and Jason, well, that was not compromising my grades, my scholarships, my letters, my awards or my graduation. There were some things a mother didn't need to know.
Wearing only the cup around the house lead to a few experiences. They would have been more uplifting had my cock not been forced down permanently small. As the weather got better in the Spring, I found that a couple times I was standing at the curb having brought out the trash for our pick-up day and only then realizing I was not wearing anything above my socks but the steel cup. No problem, if the neighbors saw anything, they didn't complain. I had a nice body, a nice butt, they probably enjoyed it.
The second type of thing was that a couple of times at night when I was studying in my room in my cup and got hungry, I jumped in my car and went to the drive-through at McDonald's. Now this was not a big thing as my privates were covered and I was sitting on my naked butt. I think the kid at the window when he handed me the order gave me a hard crotch-stare and whistled and went "So that's how those jocks look!" Pimpled-faced pencil-necked underclassman geek, I doubted if he would ever do anything to earn a chastity cup. Yeah! That's it, the cup was sort of a medal, a medal of honor, a sign that the guy wearing it was a stud, an athlete, a "danger" to women! We three guys, cock-confined the longest, our school's most "dangerous" men! I liked that.
Well, we didn't go to the school prom, but we did make it to the last day of school, and since all the other sports programs had ended, it was just the senior basketball guys and Brent, Jason and I that were released together in the coach's office and had our official farewell load shoot. That damn Brent won again, just like a fucking future jarhead.
Our relationship with the coach and the school was over, but we were given our cups and the keys. We had earned them. Also, we had told the principal we wanted to use the cups as motivation for doing well in summer school in retaking pre-calculus. The intern was returning to the university in another city, but he agreed to be our key holder. He would come back in one week to lock us in, but then we would be only able to get out once in three weeks, at the mid-term of the intensive course, and only if we were doing well. At the end of the term, any guy not passing would remain locked for three more weeks, but then be released. There was one week between the end of school and the start of summer school. So there it was, a week of freedom, followed by three weeks castration, and then perhaps a few minutes release, three more weeks of sexual confinement, and then total fucking freedom or at the worst one more three week period and then it would finally all be over and we would be remasculated.
We turned our jocks and keys over to the university intern for inspection, repair, and safekeeping. We didn't need them now; we would be feeling their tight grip on our crotches soon enough. We started off our freedom week with a party in which we invited the gymnast, the two wrestlers, and the Marine. This was quite an orgy. I enjoyed fucking the gymnast most, and these other guys, well, I did a fuck or two just because they were there but I let Brent spend most of the time in the Marine's hole and Jason I let work the two wrestlers. This was also the first time that I was able to take the wrestlers and the Marine up my butt.
I will have to say that the wrestlers had a much more vicious and punishing technique than did the gymnast. The wrestlers were mean, hard, and quick, sort of like Brent before he had learned how to make love. As far as fucking, I would have to rank the gymnast as best because of his love of my total body, but the Marine was a close second. He was as rough as the wrestlers, but somehow more serious. It wasn't a game with him, it was a job. Sort of like he was following orders: "Go kill the enemy!" "Sir!, Yes, Sir!" "Go fuck the guy over there!" "Sir!, Yes, Sir!" I really liked the extremely masculine way he fucked me too. Steady, slow, strong, and thorough. He did a good job. Not too much love there, in the sense of romantic love, but a lot of respect. He expected me to take it like a man and I did. I especially liked the very manly noises he made: the low hard grunts, the barely audible animal moans, the noise the air made rushing in and out of his mouth as his abs contracted to help drive his tool deep.
During the week the three of us buddies decided to go our separate ways to try to plow as much cunt as we could before we were put back into our cups. It might surprise you but we did plow cunt this time. Probably not as many ladies as we had been imagining all this long and chaste school year, but cunt none the less. We had agreed to save Sunday for just the three of us again, just before we got cock-locked at school on Monday morning.
By noon on Monday the keys to our privates were already 150 miles away and going even farther. No way out now, we were locked in for at least the initial full three weeks. Monday night as I was lying in bed, hands on the metal jock, warmed by the heat of my cock and balls trapped inside, I began thinking about the week just past. I had gone to movies, gone to restaurants, gone to rock concerts, gone swimming, and fucked about 10 different girls. Of course I had also fucked a Marine, two wrestlers, a gymnast and Brent and Jason. In addition I had been fucked in both ends by all of these men. I reviewed the mental videotape of the week's action. The action I could see clearly. But I was also reviewing my feelings in each situation. What was I thinking of when the wrestlers were fucking me? What was I thinking of when I was ramming my prod into the Marine? How about that blonde broad with the giggle? The nice girl with the librarian glasses but the big tits? It hit me! Each time I shot a load into one of those cunts I was pretending it was a guy's ass. Each time I kissed a girl, I was missing that feeling of a hard cock rubbing on the roof of my mouth. And each time I left my female date's house and trotted back to my car, my asshole was clenching closed and then springing open and wishing for a hard manly pole to clamp down tight on.
With no school sports to practice, we three guys had a little more free time than before. We put most of our effort in on the studies, trying to earn our 5-minute load shoots that would be coming up in three weeks. Still, there were more outdoor activities. Brent's family had a cabin up by the lake and on several occasions the three of us would drive up in his pickup. As it was getting warm and we wanted to get a good tan, not to waste any sun-time we would each leave our houses in just our jock cups, shoes and socks, or maybe just sandals. No clothes to worry about getting wet or torn or dirty. We would meet at Brent 's house, put a jetski in the back and one on the trailer, hook the trailer to the pickup and then pile into the compact truck cab and be off. The cab was sort of narrow and with three V-torsoed guys crammed in we were pretty much constantly having a war of shoulders and triceps to see who would get to sit back straight and not have to ride with his abs pulling his upper body in a slight twist. This bracing caused our legs to spread out in a V too. We sat if not naked hip to naked hip, then certainly bare thigh to bare thigh. Our upper body V's pointed down and our spread-leg V's pointed back and both visual V's met at the shiny silver steel jock cups: the frustrating central focus of our lives; our publicly acknowledged "most dangerous fucker" medals.
The rough riding truck buzzed our balls a little. If we had been cock free we could have each jerked the other off as we drove, but as it was, we sat there as perfect gentlemen, cocks down and out of sight, chaste.
We liked to ride those jetskis around the lake and our steel cups were about like a thong in their coverage and as long as we were sitting astride the watercrafts' seats we weren't really showing our holes. Of course we tried to create the roughest water for each other and then ride through the foaming green. The bucking, bouncing and tossing of the personal watercraft every once in a while did tap our balls for us. We could and did go water skiing with no fear of falling off and into the water at high speed, our genitals were very well protected.
We got a good tan on every body part except two. However, we had to watch ourselves during the heat of the day. When the sun was really intense, those cups tended to heat up like the hood of a car and we didn't want to broil our balls. We played a lot of volleyball and basketball and the pull of the steel jocks as we jumped and ran was really nice and of course we could play like fools and dive for low balls with no fear of hurting our cocks or smashing our nuts. There were several nature trails and we liked to go jogging there: the motivation was that nice up and down pull on our groins that the heavy metal jock made.
We did have one or two slight embarrassing incidents while we were going up to the lake. Both are related to gasoline. In the first case Brent was driving us up to the lake and we were sitting there in our worked-out bodies, triceps touching, pushing our legs together while we held our hands on our cups. Hands on our cups when we weren't just being straight-teen-guy-typical playful with our hands and fingers on the other guy's nipples, or abs or well really, any exposed body part was fair game. Then a red light went on and Brent said we needed gas. Unfortunately we were in an area with a lot of houses lining the highway and cars on the roads. Fortunately there was a station just up the road. We pulled in and noticed it was one where you could pay at the pump. So Brent got his dad's credit card out of the glove box, and jumped out to get the pump going and then rejoined us back in the cab until it filled. Then he jumped out, hit the no receipt button, shut off the pump, and we were off. The way we had parked and with the door to the truck open we doubted that the clerk inside or anyone else had seen any butt and certainly not any rectal opening. Just an adrenaline check, nothing more.
In the second case, it actually led to something. On another trip Brent again got the red light showing only one gallon left. This time we were not so lucky. We were a little bit closer to the lake and so the population density was down to where not too many gas stations could be supported. As you might expect, about 15 minutes later we coughed to a stop. Now we were carrying extra cans of gas for the jetskis so we were not going to be stopped for long, just a matter of getting out and pouring a can of gas in the tank. But while we were stopped by the side of the road, a sheriff's car came up and it would have looked dumb if Brent had jumped back into the truck, and which ever way he stood was going to attract the road patrol's attention: muscular naked butt out and the law man would probably not see the jock, but then he would think Brent was naked. Shiny steel jock out and the deputy might have a question or two. In the truck? Butt out? Or crotch forward? Brent selected choice "c".
As the red and blue flashing lights began reflecting off the rearview mirrors a rather young reserve patrol officer came up next to Brent. Well, it wasn't long before we three crotch-controlled studs were lined up with our hands wide and flat on the hood of Brent's truck. We were really sweating it as the officer was telling us what was going to happen to guys driving naked on a public road. I think the ass holes on all three of us had been pulsing, trying to decide if being raped by sex-crazed criminals in the county jail would be a fun thing or not.
But then the officer just laughed and told us that he had played football for Pineville last fall and that he knew about us being locked in the jocks. He said he thought that was just for the football season, god! How did we survive with them on this long? What did we do for sex? Well, we twisted our upper bodies around not knowing if we should shake hands or continue to assume the off-balance spread of the prisoner's pre-handcuff position. With our mouths more like 90 degrees to the man in blue we told him about the rubber dongs and the Marine fuckings and such. Even in my bent-over subdued stance I could twist my head and roll my eyes around to catch his eyes gleaming, and I recognized him as one of the goddamn football players in that game who had offered to fuck our holes for us. He was very courteous but he made his old scrimmage line anal relief offer again, and instead of rejecting it by smashing his body into the ground as we did last fall, this time we accepted it with our sphincters tingling. As we were drawing straws to decide whose rectum would be first, the young reserve officer was calling in to report that he would be taking a short rest break. He then used his cell phone and before he had finished his first hole, a car with two more former Pineville football players came rolling up.
We got to the lake late that day.
>It turned out that I was the only one to meet the grade goal for the midterm. The other guys were close, and of course they had emotional feelings like losing a close game, but we played by the rules. The intern had agreed to meet me halfway bringing down my key and that I would get 5 minutes free to beat off. Well, not like fucking Jason or Brent, but at least I would be feeling my cock and balls and getting that good sensation as my load blasted down my fast stroked prod. Five minutes, well, I could probably get two loads off, sure.
Then as I was driving along the freeway with a full up tank of gas but dressed down to just my cup I realized that that intern would be there by himself. Now he was 5 years older and had an athletic body, but he hadn't been working out nearly as much as I had this last year. I was very, very strong, very hard except for my cock. I had always wanted to punish-fuck that bastard and make him suck my cock. Well, it would be just him and me. I could already feel his anal ring snapping down hard around my cock. All those times when he squatted with his head just inches from my equipment as he checked for security violations, his mouth just inches from my poor bent and shriveled member, how much I had thought about when I would get the chance to violate his throat. Just a few minutes of this and I had to stop to towel off the car seat; the male drool dripping from my jock was beginning to build up even as I made my plans for the meeting.
I finally decided that his mouth could wait. What I really wanted was to do an anal rape. My two buddies had got to rape those ladies and I had never had the experience. I wanted to try a rape before I got much older. Who better to rape than the intern? But wait a minute! It is politically correct to rape the guy who holds the keys to your cock? It is wise? What would he do? Lock me back in? Well, he was going to do that anyway. But would he extend the time I had to stay emasculated? Well, he sure couldn't rape me, with that lock on his jock. He must have the same feelings I do, the same desire for a good hard man up his butt. Maybe if I really fuck him hard, rough-ride his rectum, he will enjoy it so much he might not even lock my steel jock back on me. But, and wow! What is this I am thinking? That I wouldn't want that? What? That I want to return home and complete the last three weeks locked fast in crotch confinement? Yes! Wow! I am really messed up! First I have switched from liking girls to lusting after boys and now I am worried that I might actually have the free use of my private parts for 3 whole weeks. I couldn't take the freedom; I needed that control. Wow! Well, these ideas were running in my head when I pulled into the remote highway rest area where we agreed to meet. I jumped out of my car and jogged up the little exercise trail to where I was to meet the intern. I must have been a little early and so I stood there dealing with my emotions abs contracting, pecs rising and falling, hole clenching, and cup dripping.
Then I saw him jogging up the trail and wow! He was also naked but for his steel jock. Must have driven down from the big city that way. He had the key to my cock on a chain around his neck. This was going to be easier than I thought. I will wait and let him do the honors of unlocking me and then there would be that little time where I had to fold over and pull out my cock, and then pop out my balls one at a time, and then I would "spring" into action. No need to waste any of my 5 minutes, I just grab him and rape him. I think I'll hold him in a full nelson, and then plunge in deep all the way, not let him get used to it, make him yell, maybe cry, yeah! I could get to like this rape work.
The intern was happy to see me, well, I thought he was. As I said before one of the benefits of wearing a steel jock is that you can hide your sexual feelings from others. So neither of us could see if the other was up for some action, well we knew we weren't because his cock was pushed down and hanging small in mid-air inside his cup just like mine.
After a few pleasantries the university graduate student took the key from around his neck and released my privates. He stood up and back as I worked myself free. He had a stop watch and had just clicked it on when it was knocked to the ground, both his arms held up uselessly clawing the air, his neck bent down painfully now and more pain was on the way if he didn't cooperate. I held him there, my alert nipples drilling into his shoulder blades, my cock already well into the crack between his ass cheeks. Then as his resistance strength was leaving his full-nelsoned arms, I made the quick release, grabbed his wrists, and he was bent over in a double hammerlock before he could get out a "Sup?" Now with only a few seconds of my 5 minutes gone off the clock, I pushed him down on the ground, rammed his arms way high on his back, held them there easily with my left hand as my right hand moved down to help guide my already streaming tool fast and deep into his fear contracted hole.
But what was this my cock-tip touched? Something hard and smooth? I couldn't feel where his rectum was. My plan was coming apart. I weakened in surprise and his arms fell back down to a locked but tolerable position. I quickly took both of my hands and rolled his body over and tossed his legs up over my naked shoulders. I was going to get to the bottom of this, to his bottom, one way or another. But there instead of a pinkish brown hole I saw the ugly glint of stainless steel.
My cock dropped fast, almost as fast as my face. My mind was running at warp speed. Slowly I realized that I would not be riding his hole, at least not today. Why is he both cock and rectum locked? Who has the key? How long is he locked? What if he needs to shit?
Well, being the more mature individual of the two of us, he understood where I was coming from and as he crunched his abs and lifted his legs down from my shoulder ball caps he told me to stand up. I did and he was soon standing also. I didn't know what to do with my hands so I dropped them to my cock and even though I wasn't really hard, damn if that human touch wasn't enough! Blam!, Blam!,...Blam! Followed by Thunk! Thunk!..Thunk! My seed sailed out, curved down and landed quite a way off on some leaves. I had lost track of the time, must have frozen up there when I saw his butt hole was also locked in chastity. Anyway, I continued to have a pretty steady flow bubble out my cock, nice thick and white, and as my hands cupped my balls and held my tool, I saw him bend down, check the stopwatch and reach for my steel jock.
I never did get to rape that dude, but I did hear his story.
On the way back to my hometown, I thought about how much I had really learned from school this year. Now in the future, maybe after college, I still might start fucking the ladies but for right now, I realized I needed to be controlled, that I couldn't really get to all my goals of college, collegiate sports, maybe professional sports, I couldn't really get to where I wanted to go with my cock and balls in control of my head, I needed to keep them locked up, let someone else control my reproductive organs and that would let me be free to pursue the good life.
Another thing I thought about was that I was almost having too much fun with guys up my hole. Perhaps I too needed to be locked up in one of those steel rectum rods like the intern had. It would certainly cut down the risk of getting aids that's for sure.
The intern told me there were different styles of rods I could get. Some were hollow and did allow a guy to shit without being unlocked but of course not even a dildo or finger or other pleasure-giving tool could get close to the prostate. The kind he wore, well he had to wait until his key-holder unlocked that stainless steel rod before he could dump his shit. The point was that there was a punishment factor and a denial of pleasure in either system. The smooth narrow metal extension was inserted straight up the rectum and then locked onto the base of the steel jock with a sort of loosely connected hinge-universal joint. This allowed the jock to move some as it would without the rectum rod. Also the rod slid up and down in the asshole some, but neither did it give any pleasure doing that nor was it in any danger of sliding all the way out. I guess with either just the steel jock or with the jock and hollow rod, a guy could go on for years locked up and then be remasculated when he had satisfied the demands of his key-holder. The solid rod version required pretty much daily visits to the key-holder, not bad if he were a good-looking stud. If the guy were strictly hetero, then there was no real need for the rectum rod; but if a guy enjoyed a hard cock up his ass from time to time, then to be really chaste, he ought to be locked in the full jock and rod set.
We three buddies did pass pre-calculus. By those last weeks of summer, when we were all free from our jocks the recruiter, the wrestlers and the gymnast had all moved out of our lives, as had any girls we used to know. So we spent those last few weeks of the summer just enjoying each other. I can still feel that stud Brent working my hole and still feel Jason's anal muscles milking me dry. We got to have as much sex as we could take, and that was a lot! But then Brent was going off to boot camp, Jason off to the state university, and I to begin my local college degree program playing interscholastic football to pay the freight.
I had several major decisions to make at the end of the summer. Of course I knew I needed to be locked back into the steel jock. But I wondered whom I should get for the key holder. My mom? No! She would never let me out for even a single load shoot until I got a Ph.D. or landed a NFL contract or both! Maybe my new football coach? or the athletic dean? or the dean of students? or maybe my counselor? Also, should I just go for the jock part or add that steel rectum rod? Would I be wasting time looking for guys to fuck me now that my buddies were no longer around? On the other hand, what if I met some new studs in college? They might not like me if I didn't have my hole available for them to shoot into.
There was a day or two there between the time that Brent and Jason left and when I started school myself. I spent a lot of time just feeling my balls, gently pulling on them, twisting them, and of course wrapping my fist around my cock and working up as many loads as I could shoot. As I was playing with myself I was thinking of Jason and Brent, but also I thought about that gym-rat guy Tony "hard" at work down at the GM dealer.
In my cockstroking dream I put on some jeans but left my shirt off and went down there to talk to Tony. His eyes fixed on my body as I walked up to the counter. I told him I didn't need any parts but since I was out of high school now I was looking for a place to keep my body up and I saw he had a pretty pumped up build. He told me that he worked out a private gym out by the expressway and was going there after he got off work. Said if I wanted I could meet him there. Deal!
I wondered of Tony would be my key-holder?
My X-rated dream continued: the juice running out of my cock.
I saw myself waiting outside the gym just standing around in my shorts and pecs and abs, nipples hanging out, and then Tony pulled up. Instead of getting out, he called me over to his truck. I got in and he said he was sort of wondering if he might fuck me sometime. No problem man! I would be happy to open my hole for him, but didn't he have a nice girl friend? Well, I guess Tony's girl was OK but he needed more than what she had to give him. My bedtime dream continued as he gave me some heavy prostate attention before we went to workout in the gym.
If I can't find any new guys at college who want to ram me, maybe I can look up Tony for real. I did see that sparkle in his eye that time at the Baskin-Robbins... But then maybe I need to have my hole steel-rodded and locked down too. At least until I make a few of my goals, like passing tests, winning games, etc. I wonder what it would be like to be totally locked up? Well, maybe I should find out. Maybe Tony would be my key holder? At least the rectum rod key... Oh, oh, just shot another load thinking that one through.
Well, that about sums up my senior year in high school.
But before I sign off, I don't want you to think I am trashing Marines, or cutting down wrestlers, or saying the Pineville sheriff has a homosexual on his staff, that fucker is probably married to a babe for all I know. I don't blame these people, nor the coaches, principals or parents, hello mom! The girls have every right to say no. These innocent folks did what they had to under the circumstances, circumstances caused by my buddies. It was just that Brent and Jason could not control their equipment and this led to the situation at my high school that senior year.
If you know a kid down the street who is skirting with trouble, if you see your paperboy shirtless down by the river standing with some ladies on a school night, if your high school has entirely too much sex taking place, if the students in your area are just not as serious about school or sports as they once were, if it bothers you to see teens wasting their futures, you might want to consider suggesting the jock lock solution. It doesn't hurt those guys full of piss and vinegar, if anything it figuratively forces them to hold onto those two liquids and literally allows them only a safe and very slow discharge of their semen. The chastity cup forces guys to use their natural reproductive energy in different and positive goal-oriented ways. A few years later when the guys' heads have matured as much as their bodies then they can intelligently decide in which hole to place their personal equipment. Your principal and coaches may want to consider putting some or all of the young men in your local high school in controlled castration. It goes right to the core of the teen-age male problem, large-scale reversible emasculation, a win-win solution.
Well, I better shower off all this cum, get my cock down to a polite angle and go get a haircut before I start college. I wonder if I will run into those two high and tights again? Maybe I can fuck their asses for them this time we meet. Or maybe they will fuck mine? I'm "open" and "up" for anything.
Who can I get for my key holder? Will I go with just the jock, or the hole plug too?
Wonder how Jason is going to use his steel cup this year at the university? And would they allow that jarhead Brent a steel jock in boot camp? After the drill sergeant sees what it does to focus Brent's attention, gee, he might have to lock all the recruits in the cups.
Well, that, and my freshman year of college life is another whole story.
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© 2000 by Maletrain
[maletrain@aol.com]
All rights reserved.
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Page last updated 00-Mar-18 by: Altairboy@aol.com