How I Found a Keyholder Ch. 05

But first things first. There was a small park nearby with a playground and a couple picnic tables. Empty at this time of night. This time of night! I had to send Sir my video before midnight! I dropped my bag on the picnic table and rooted through it for my phone. I stabbed at it, and it lit up, telling me it was 11:47 p.m. Fuck!

I opened up the app for the camera and stopped the recording, which had been running straight through. There was no time to get home, not even time to go looking for wifi. I cursed to myself as I realized that sending this from here was going to shred my data plan, but I had no choice. At least I had a strong signal here and it started uploading at max speed.

Once I started sending the video I had a moment to take stock. It was mid October now, and the nights were getting pretty chilly. I took off the bondage cuffs, and was about to put on my shoes and socks when I realized I should put my work pants back on. I pulled them up over the gym shorts -that looked a little odd and bulky around my crotch, but that probably wouldn't be the oddest thing about my appearance tonight. I got my socks and shoes on, and put my dress shirt from work on over the t-shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.

I idly realized that my underwear were missing. I remembered them half-falling out of my bag and I concluded it was possible that the guy I had sucked off had sat down on top of them, so I guess he had a souvenir. Most importantly, my wallet was there at the bottom of the bag.

If you didn't look closely, I could pass for a merely unkept dude out on a Sunday night, and maybe not - if you didn't look too close - like a guy who had recently been nude on the subway. Maybe not like someone with stray bits of come drying on the side of their face.

Not wanting to go back into that subway station, I headed down to the main drag and started walking along it, figuring I could get back on at the next station. I checked my phone. My giant video file had finished uploading with a couple minutes to spare.

Despite everything, I felt a sense of achievement as I made my way home.

5.c: Video #7: The Leisure Lab

On Monday before work I checked the next QR code, and I immediately got back a message that said "YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WEDNESDAY NIGHT" but no other details.

On Wednesday I went to Sir's place to be inspected. It was one of the uneventful visits, with one exception: When I arrived, the thick metal slug of a buttplug - the same one I had worn on my treadmill ride - was waiting for me. I was still impressed at its thickness and heaviness, but this time it didn't seem as difficult to push inside me. Once more, Sir gave me just a cursory once-over, then dismissed me, though he had an unusual instruction: "leave that buttplug in until you're told to take it out."

That gave me an extra tingle in my step as I headed home, wondering if this was going to be connected to whatever appointment I'd be having that night.

At about seven o'clock, further instructions arrived.

"GO BACK TO THE SOCIAL SCIENCES BUILDING AT THE UNIVERSITY. DOOR CODE SAME AS BEFORE.

"REPORT TO ROOM B400 AT 8PM SHARP"

"TAKE YOUR BAG WITH YOUR USUAL SUPPLIES"

That left me a few minutes to kill before I had to head over to the campus. At least I knew where the building was this time. Navigating the maze of the basement was no easier, and Room B400 seemed to be about half a mile in the opposite direction from where I was the last time, though like then I felt like I was alone in an abandoned building.

I found the door pretty much right at eight. There was nothing besides the room number to indicate it was occupied, so it seemed most prudent to knock. It was opened immediately by a nerdish fellow in a lab coat.

"Right on time," he said, holding the door open. There was another dude in the room, also in a lab coat. Both registered that vague category of "grad student", a little older than most people you'd see on the campus, but too scruffy to be faculty. Otherwise, they were a mismatched pair: the one who had let me in was short and pudgy with thick glasses while the other was tall, skinny, and showing signs of a receding hairline.

"Welcome to the Leisure Lab," the shorter guy said. "My name is Allan, this is Wayne. We're doing some, ah... extracurricular research down here. But we're still working with, ah... scientific rigor."

The room we were in was like a run-down office reception area from the '70's, with grimy shag carpet, awkward lumpy chairs and some rather desiccated plastic plants. There was a well-worn wooden table along one wall, and Wayne, the taller guy, gestured at that. "You can get undressed and leave your clothing in your bag here."

Scientific rigor indeed! I suppose it says something about my recent activities that it didn't seem the least bit strange for me to walk into a room with two random men and be told to get undressed. Without hesitation, I started stripping, putting shoes and clothing into my gym bag. At least it was starting to look as if I wouldn't have to go through all the bother of locking myself up this time around.

It did feel a little awkward once I was nude, though the two dudes were playing their roles as serious scientists in their lab coats. I had no idea at all where this was all going. I was handed a heavy dark green glass that looked like it had been filched from a tiki lounge. "Drink this, please."

Once more I didn't think to offer resistance and drank the liquid after a quick sniff. It tasted like orange Tang, reminding me of the drinks we had in grade school before they caved in and allowed soda there. I set the empty glass down.

"Hands on the table and, uh, bend forward, please," Allan, the shorter guy, instructed me, putting on a pair of surgical gloves after laying a towel down on the table. I did so, and quickly his hands moved to my asshole, tugging lightly at the metal disc connected to the thick metal buttplug.

"We're going to remove this, so please push it out." He held my buttcheeks apart as I bore down to expel the plug that'd been in me since the afternoon.

With a solid push it popped out, and the dude caught it, setting it beside me on the towel. He procured a tube of lubricant and flipped that open, squeezing some on the first two fingers of his right hand. He proceeded to slide them into my asshole. Given I'd had a buttplug in there for several hours, I felt loose and wide open, but for whatever reason, he wanted to open my back door even further, working the two fingers, and then three into my rectum and spreading around a generous amount of lube. After a couple minutes of that, he seemed satisfied.

"This way, please," he said, indicating a door on the opposite wall from the one I had entered. Wayne opened it and went through in front of me, and soon the three of us were in a smaller room. This doesn't look like a legit medical office, I thought to myself. Although it doesn't look like a weird, kinky sex dungeon either. Dimly lit, it mostly resembled a set from a sci-fi b-movie, filled with antiquated lab equipment. There was a large darkened window filling up one wall; in front of it was a digital camera on a tripod. That and a laptop were the only things in the room that didn't look forty years old.

Wayne pivoted to attend to some of that mysterious equipment while Allan lead me through a door beside the large window. He flipped a light switch and the room was suddenly filled with shockingly bright fluorescent light. The window was shiny and reflective on this side, and the words "one-way mirror" were just starting to bounce around my mind when I saw the chair.

Looking like the unholy collision between something from a gynecologist's office and a torture device, this construction looked even more like a b-movie prop. As I tried to trace the connections between the various gleaming metallic parts, my attendant stepped past me, the tube of lubricant still in one hand. He again flipped it open and my eyes followed its motion to the seat of the chair. In the middle of it was a metal cylinder, looking to be about the size of a can of shaving cream, but smoothly curved on top.

He spread a thick layer of lube on its surface, then turned to me. "All right, have a seat there, please."

My eyes bugged out, feeling the tension between the situation and his calm, clinical matter. "I'm supposed to sit on that?"

"Your sphincter is quite relaxed. It shouldn't be difficult."

In fact, I was feeling fairly relaxed, and it seemed most sensible just to try and follow instructions. I pivoted to sit in the chair, lifting one leg over a metal bar below the seat. I positioned the round end of the metal cylinder against my asshole and lowered myself slightly, allowing it to press against me. Somewhat to my surprise, the end of it slid right into my hole, and I slowly lowered myself down, a bit surprised at how easily I was taking its girth.

In fact, the main sensation that was distracting me was the cold of the steel that was now touching my body all over as I relaxed. After a few seconds, I felt my butt settling against the flat surface of the seat. The metal invader pushed against my prostate and I felt a stronger version of a familiar tingle.

While I was processing all of that, Allan was busy, first lifting each arm to attach my wrists to straps beside my ears. There was a click and a sudden tightening that registered in my head as strong magnets clapping together. Then he lifted each leg into a stirrup he swung into place, tightening similar straps at my ankles and knees. Then there was a belt of sorts around my midriff and something like a headband attached to the back of the chair that prevented me from being able to turn my head, which was tilted back a few degrees, giving me a straight line of sight to a TV monitor above the mirrored window.

As Allan left the room, I idly thought some disconnected thoughts about what was going on, though I couldn't really come up with any explanation for what was happening. But that's okay, it doesn't seem too important. I was totally immobilized, and that seemed fine as well.

My attendant returned, this time with some sensors that he attached like a heart monitor on my chest, and similar ones on my upper arms and thighs. he left and returned again with a metal tray that he set down beside my hips. From there, he picked up a key, and unlocked my chastity cage.

Wow, I'm being unlocked for the second time in less than a week! That surprised me enough that I somehow didn't wonder about where he had gotten the key.

He removed the plastic tube covering my dick, and then the cockring. He substituted a ring of his own, a soft metal band, though this went around the circumference of my cock just below the head. Then a similar one at the base of the shaft, and he attached a few more electrodes around my genitals that had wires running from them.

Oh god, is my cock going to get electroshock therapy? That idea alarmed me, but I still felt pretty calm about it.

Once he was satisfied with how the connections attached to me were wired, he left, closing the door. I was left to my own thoughts for a couple minutes. Then Allan's voice crackled out. "Just relax, and we'll be ready to go in a minute here." The sound was tinny like an old intercom, and from the corner of my eye I traced it to a speaker over by the door.

"We are testing you today with a penile plethysmograph, which is also sometimes called a phallometer. The goal is to test your physical responses to differing visual stimuli. Past research has shown that most men will lie about what turns them on, but your cock can't lie! All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the show."

With that, the monitor above the window flicked on. It was a show with a man and a woman, and they were naked, and... oh! It's porn!

In fact it was fairly mainstream commercial porn: a blonde woman with a boob job who flirted with a dozy-looking surfer type before pulling out his cock to suck on it. This wasn't the sort of stuff I tended to watch, but with the tension in my balls having had a few days to start building up after the incredible come-draining I'd had last weekend, I definitely was starting to respond to it.

After about ten minutes the scene ended with the inevitable spray of come on the blonde woman's face, and my cock was fairly hard. The screen faded to a shifting pastel color. "We'll just give you a minute to relax while we recalibrate over here," Allan's voice said.

My cock was mostly soft when the next video started. It was a similar scene, pretty vanilla, but this time with two guys. My cock got hard again, and involuntarily I could tried to move my arm down to touch myself. The way I was strapped in meant that I couldn't do anything about it, of course, but shifting around a bit did at least remind me of the large metal invader inserted in my ass.

I was leaking a little bit of pre-come when that scene ended and there was another breather. Then the next video featured a threesome, with one guy licking another's cock clean as he pulled it out of a woman's pussy. That definitely worked on me, and me cock was really hard now.

Then: three guys together, and this was getting raunchier, with come and piss spraying all over. Then: a woman in a pretty intense bondage situation, helplessly bound with her head in an enclosed box while a guy put weights on her nipple clips and tormented her with electric shocks.

That excited me more than I might have thought, but I was getting pretty worked up now. I caught my breath in the short break after that.

The next one was pretty amateurish quality, looking like it was recorded on someone's phone. It featured a guy in a gloryhole.. or rather with gloryholes on three sides of him and he moved back and forth from cock to cock as they presented themselves to him. My cock was really straining now and I wished I could jerk off to this, feeling that wonderful sense of a full-on erection that I'd been denied for the last couple months.

There were a couple homemade straight ones after that, and they were hot, but not as exciting as that gloryhole video. Then there was one with a group of guys in leather, outside at a street party of some sort. They were in a kiddie pool, pissing on each other and then getting pissed on by passers-by. That was pretty hot. Then there was one with a locked guy sucking off a group of men, then getting fucked by a couple as he kept servicing two or three cocks at once. I was incredibly hard watching that one, trying to thrust my hips... trying to do anything to give some actual stimulation to my cock. Rocking on the metal rod up my backside gave some sensation, but not enough to really push through the frustration.

The last one was something different, and for a second I thought the monitor was showing a live feed of the camera that was presumably recording me on the other side of the mirrored window. I could see myself strapped into the metal chair, wires trailing from my cock.. Oh! That's not me, it someone else! Indeed, it was another guy in the same situation I was in now, strapped in the chair... and as I watched, I could see his cock coming to erection from whatever he was watching.

Now that was sort of a trip. Besides being turned on by seeing this guy helplessly strapped in, there was also the conceptual twist as I thought about the possibility of someone else in turn watching me getting turned on. Whatever the guy in the video was looking at must have been hot for him, as his cock was really rock hard now. It looked delicious and I wished I could have been there to help him out. That was making my cock similarly hard, and I was straining once more as the video suddenly ended.

Then there was another break, but this time nothing came on the screen after a couple minutes. There was some light soothing music in the background and the pause stretched out, my cock reluctantly getting soft and settling into the slick precome that had pooled on my belly.

Finally, after a few more minutes, the door opened and Allan entered. "We're going to move on to the next stage," he said, putting on a surgical glove and carefully removing the apparatus that was wired to my dick. When that was done, he squeezed some liquid onto my cock. At first I thought it was lube and had a moment of excitement as I thought he might be about to jerk me off, but then I felt a weird cooling sensation around my dick. He reached down to my balls and although I was excited by the touch, I didn't seem to be able to react.

Picking up the ring of my cage from the tray beside him, he pulled my balls through them, and then stuffed my cock into the plastic tube. I was feeling turned on by the idea of having my cock handled, but whatever he had put on it had numbed the sensation, so instead of protesting against getting locked back up, my cock meekly accepted its fate as the lock was pushed in and the key removed.

I was back to my regular status, locked and helpless, as he left the room again. Once more, there was a couple minutes of waiting.

Then I heard the buzzing before the motion registered, and it took a second to understand what was happening: the large metal slug in my ass was starting to vibrate.

Given how thoroughly the thick invader was wedged in me, this created quite a sensation. But then, I could heard a grating sound as I saw one of the rods leading back to the control room torquing, turning a gear in the open space below my spread legs. And suddenly, that metal slug was being pushed even deeper into my ass. That created quite a physical sensation against my prostate.

After a minute or so I had adjusted to that as I realized that the intensity of the vibrations from the metal dildo were slowly increasing, so that lead to another wave of increased stimulation. Then, more twisting as the slug pushed deeper into me, pulling me open somewhere inside my guts. There was momentary discomfort at that before pleasurable sensations took over... and then another slow ramping up of the vibrational intensity.

I didn't think it was possible, but the dildo was cranked even further in after that, and soon the increased vibrations were churning up my guts. I realized my eyes were screwed tightly shut as I rode the waves of pleasure that were broadcasting from my solar plexus, and I opened them to look down at my cock, straining against the cage, and then up to the reflection of myself in the mirrored glass, trying to twist away from or into that intense invading force.

Things stayed at that maximum level for a longer period. The feelings were a strange mix between that intense, nearly painful peak of pleasure right before ejaculating and the white-noise of overstimulation I remembered Sir giving me with the vibrator after my ruined orgasm. It was too much, but by fuck it felt so good! So much... building, rising up... I could see it like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel... a glorious orgasm closing in on me... getting closer... on the edge of exploding...

...and all at once, everything stopped. The vibrations were cut as the brightly-lit experimentation chamber was plunged into darkness. The timing had been deadly accurate, leaving me with a feeling of someone grabbing my nuts as the edge was denied. There was the hollow ache in my prostate that I had previously associated with "blue balls", but more intense than I could ever remember feeling. I was thoroughly denied, denied even the sweet anguish of a ruined orgasm.

"That concludes our testing," the tinny voice rattled from the speaker by the door. "We thank you for your assistance."

In the darkness of the room, I slowly caught my breath as I tried to shake off the intense hangover of denied pleasure in my guts and groin. Several minutes passed.