How I Found a Keyholder Ch. 10

And then the game went on. However, as time passed, I had an issue that I could no longer ignore: I had been drinking a lot of liquid, and that needed to come out. I also had to piss, and it was fast becoming a pressing issue.

But I couldn't exactly raise my hand or ask Sir if I could get up to use the toilet. What was I supposed to do? I thought if he used me again soon, maybe I could grunt or gesture with my eyes to give him the message that I needed to be released so I could piss. But he was absorbed into his game and there was nothing I could do, and I was sure that if I tried to get his attention he wouldn't be thrilled at being interrupted.

So I waited a couple more hands, and then a couple more. And then, it was something of a desperate issue. But the play was getting intense and there was no sign of anyone getting up.

I knew if I pissed on the floor I'd be getting a punishment, but by this point, the discomfort I was feeling gave me no other choice. With a vague sense of dread, I gave up and unclenched.

I had to piss so badly it actually took a few uncomfortable seconds to relax, but finally I started, my mind flooding with relief. And then confusion, as I didn't see the piss below me, or feel it against my leg. Then I heard a faint gurgle, and my peripheral vision tried to interpret the white blur at my side. All at once I remembered the bucket and plastic tubing that had been beside me, and the sensation of Sir wrapping something around my cage. he had set up a collector for this eventuality, but without telling me. He must have known how worried I would have been about pissing on the floor.

The intense wave of relief that hit me, both physical and mental, was almost sexual. There was a strong ripple in my prostate that sent tingles through my belly, and for a few seconds there was a lingering sexual peak like I had just ejaculated.

I squeezed my eyes closed. Wow. That was... intense.

Whether any of the players had heard the sounds of my pissing (or maybe the beer was just working its way through their systems now), there was a rush to use me as they took a short break, stretching and getting food from the fridge, so despite having just released a monumental amount of my own piss, by belly was soon full once more. Everyone's piss this time was more watered down, with just enough of a tang to give me a constant reminder: I am drinking piss. I am a urinal for these men.

Before coming to use me again, Moustache dude headed out of the room. As I'd seen before, he was familiar with Sir's toys, and before he pissed in my mouth again he attached a biting pair of nipple clips to me, looping the chain around the tube and crossbar in front of me so that anyone using me could just reach in front of them and tug at the chain, sending jolts of pain through me. "Now we can flush him properly," he joked, before repeating his hawking and spitting into the top of the tube connected to my urine collector.

Sir availed himself of the opportunity to tug at the nipple chain as I drank his piss, and Tom did as well, although Mr. Humphries left me in peace. The taste of his piss improved a lot as he had his beers, so despite (or because of?) all the indignities, I was relishing the actual fact that I was getting to drink all this piss.

That also left a strange ambiguity in my mind: was I enjoying this too much? It's not like it was supposed to be a punishment, as Sir generally reserved punishments for times when I had broken his rules. I remembered once more his description when he made the contract with me: any pleasure I received was just an accidental by-product of him getting what he wanted. So there it is: he wanted a convenient urinal for his buddies to use; it was just a coincidence that that fit into the desires that I was now discovering had been lying dormant within me.

And thus the evening played out -- and a long evening it was, with the poker game going on into the dead of the night. The drinking had tailed off as things got to an even more intense and serious phase of the game, so I was eventually being used less and less, the fatigue in my joints pretty much the only thing keeping me from nodding off.

And eventually the game ended. Tom seemed to have come out the furthest ahead, Mr. Humphries the furthest behind. The others seemed to have come out more-or-less even. Wrapping things up meant that everyone took their turn emptying their bladders, and this time everyone's phones were out, taking pictures and videos of me drinking everyone's piss. That was another thing that would have phased me a lot more a just a few weeks ago; now, it just seemed part of what I did.

It was only once all the guests had been shown out that sir got around to releasing me, removing the tube and gag before releasing my head-straps, and undoing the other bindings. Once I wasn't being held up, I almost collapsed to the floor. I was sore all over, and possibly a bit drunk on second-hand beer. I followed his instructions to drag the bucket filled with my piss to the bathroom and dumped it down the toilet. After that I removed the buttplug and cleaned it, and shuffled back into the kitchen where Sir was cleaning up.

"That's it for you for tonight. Get out of here."

I started to move off, and he spoke again.

"Oh, by the way... on Wednesday you'll be coming for your inspection in the evening instead of the afternoon. I'll text you to let you know when."

And then, he added more, sounding disingenuously casual: "you're going to get to have an orgasm, so don't be late."

He laughed at my reaction to that, which spurred him on to taunt me more. "And I guarantee you it won't be a ruined one this time."

With that he turned away and I made my way to the entrance hall, dressed, and left. I was almost trembling with anticipation at what he'd just told me.

There was still enough liquid in my system that I realized as soon as I was outside I'd need to find a discreet spot to piss. But that wasn't so unusual, that's just typical Friday night drunks on their way home stuff. I felt boozy and dozy and very, very horny as I made my way home.

10.c: New cage/New phase

I was nearly unbearably agitated for the next couple days. Being denied the right to come on my own terms meant that when it did happen it was a big deal. I tried to think back to when I had last ejaculated... back when I was at the mall food court, I guess. A month ago already! And that was such a weird experience... when did I last get to have a full, proper release?

With only a few hours' sleep, I was a zombie on Sunday; Monday and Tuesday weren't any better. I was sure that it was not at all accidental that Sir's reveal was making me twitchy with aching balls.

And then having to get through my day off Wednesday -- when I was at home and in the nude -- was even tougher. I ended up doing a monumental amount of housework just to distract myself.

Sir had texted me to be at his place for eight in the evening, and I was there on the dot, straining in my cage as I got undressed.

Sir was at his usual spot in front of his computer and I made my way over to him. As usual, I had to wait a while for him to finish whatever he was doing. Then he swiveled in his chair to look at me.

"You have done well at obeying. To obey is to follow orders, and you have shown you can do that. Now, you must learn to submit. Do you understand?"

"I... think so, Sir."

"I don't know if you do. Submission is not merely following orders -- it's the deliberate process of allowing your will to be subordinated to a stronger will. Are you ready to learn to submit?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I have a friend who is going to help to teach you."

He turned back to the screen, and it was a minute or so before he addressed me again. "Go back to the playroom and wait there on the bed."

"Yes, Sir."

Almost shaking with anticipation, I headed down the hallway, past the bathroom. My mind was buzzing with memories of what happened last time I was in this room, when Sir took my cage off and nearly drove me out of my mind with a series of ruined orgasms.

Maybe he has something like that in mind again, I thought to myself as I reached the room. The fact that room was set up quite similarly let that idea echo in my mind: again there were a pair of video cameras on tripods, although this time there was a chair beside the bed as well. In the center of the bed was two pairs of leather cuffs, a large buttplug and a tube of lube. Figuring those were for me, I got them in place, then lay on the bed, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

I waited for what must have been at least half an hour, anticipation and boredom alternating in waves. After a while, I could hear a muffled conversation down the hallway; it sounded like Sir's friend had arrived. I strained my ears but couldn't make anything out, so I let it just become part of the background noise. Finally, Sir entered the room. Without comment, he attached my wrists and ankles to short chains hooked to the railings at the head and foot of the bed, leaving me spread-eagled. Then he fussed with the cameras before he left the room again. I could see the lit red light on top of each of them that indicated they were running.

He was only gone for a minute this time, returning with another man in tow. His friend was probably in his late forties, fit but not buff, looking solid under a plain white t-shirt. He had a neatly-trimmed goatee and short sandy hair. His eyes caught mine as I was examining him, and I felt a weird buzz at the intensity of his look.

As Sir leaned in behind one of the cameras, the newcomer sat in the chair after shifting it so he was sitting beside my torso and angled to look right at my face.

"My name is Mark," he said. Despite his intense eyes, he had a calm, soothing voice. "We're going to talk about helping to guide you to a deeper sense of submission. It sounds like you're already doing well with accepting your place in chastity, but we'll do some work to reinforce that too. Sound good?"

I nodded.

"Great. A lot of this will be like... learning some mantras that you can repeat. And so you really absorb those, we're going to start by getting you really, really relaxed. So I want you to look into my eyes and really concentrate on the sound of my voice. And we'll do some breathing exercises to start..."

It was easy to get lost in his eyes and his voice, as we patiently went through a series of breathing exercises that he said would encourage deep relaxation. Then he led me though this sort of complicated logic problem, where I was supposed to remember the order that various items were arranged on a table. I quickly lost track of it, but he was keeping me focused, and still doing the breathing exercises. And relaxing...

I think I zoned out.

I vaguely remember him repeating a few phrases. He was echoing what Sir had said before sending me in here, that submission meant allowing your will to be subordinated to someone else's. I couldn't quite follow all of it, but it seemed to make sense; and then, like a tide washing up on a beach, it was all swept away. I was feeling very

relaxed

and I was drifting somewhere. And I wasn't really paying attention to what my body was doing. And that was fine.

And after some amount of no-time, there was a voice. It was Mark. He was saying something, but it seemed to take a little while for the sounds to form into words. Wake up now. Okay. No wait... I wasn't sleeping, I was listening to Mark talking and...

Things sort of clicked in all at once, and for a second, I was confused and overstimulated, like I'd stepped from a dark room into bright sunlight. My body was trying to tell me several things all at once, and it was such a rush of impressions, it took a few moments to start sorting them out. Several things were unusual -- my brain was trying to absorb them all together, but it would make more sense for me to relate them sequentially:

First, there was the fact that my jaw was sore, and there was a strange taste in my mouth. It took a few seconds for me to realize it was a lot like the aftertaste of semen.

Second, there was a strange throb in my balls, like they had been emptied and now they were suffering from a painful emptiness. I looked down at my stomach, which was covered in a thick, dripping pool of semen. Is that mine? Did I come?

From the aftereffects in my belly and balls, it seemed clear that I had... and yet, I didn't remember coming, though it must have just happened.

And all of that served to distract me from the most striking sight: my pink Holy Trainer was gone, and my cock was encased in a gleaming metal cage.

Wait... when did that happen?

The sight of (what must have been) my jizz, as well as that new, smaller cage sent a jolt through me, and my cock immediately twitched, wanting to get hard. The unforgiving metal quickly pressed against my engorging flesh in a battle of wills... and quickly my cock seemed to give up.

All of this must have zipped though my mind in seconds, but it felt like it took me much longer to decode what I was seeing and feeling as I tried to reconcile all this with the fact that I didn't... really... remember any of this happening. That was strange. But it's fine, I thought to myself. You don't have to worry about it.

I was stirred from my reveries by Sir's chuckles. "Congratulations on graduating to your first real chastity cage. It seems like it fits really well, though we'll keep an eye on it for the next few days."

Now I was distracted by a sinking feeling, as it was slowing becoming clear to me that I had had the full orgasm that Sir had promised... and I didn't even remember it.

"I hope you enjoyed that," he said as I eyed the ejaculate that was slowly oozing down the sides of my belly. "That cage is going to stay there for a good long while. Much longer than you've been locked for so far."

He let that soak in for a few seconds. "But how long you're locked up for is up to you."

Mark was still in the chair now, leaning back, that stark intensity in his eyes now obscured. He smiled at me as I looked over at him.

"You told Mark about some of your deepest fantasies." (I did?) "One of them is illegal," Sir said, "and I'll have no part in it. But I'm going to let you try out other one on Saturday night."

With that, the two men headed out of the room, leaving me alone to try and sort through all that. I was probably there for another half-hour -- and even with that, I still hadn't managed to unpack whatever it was that had happened. Although I also realized it wasn't something I needed to worry too much about.

Eventually, Sir came in and released my wrists and ankles and indicated for me to follow him back to the living room. Mark was sitting on the sofa, and Sir picked up my phone from his desk and handed it to me. "I put some relaxation files on here that Mark made for you."

"You should listen to one every night when you're falling asleep," Mark commented. "You wouldn't want to listen to them at any other time anyway."

I took the phone. "No, of course not. Thank you."

Sir didn't have any further instructions for me, so I just made my way over to the entryway and started getting dressed. As I pulled my underwear on over my new metal cage, my cock twitched -- there was a piquant sensation that it made everything feel a little different, and I guessed just the fact of wearing it would make me horny for the next few days. And that, in turn would make me more frustrated, which would make me more horny which would...

It was strange; after all these months, it felt like my chastity was just starting now.

I wondered how long it would go on for.