“And why do you know this information?”
He grins as he struts down the aisle. “You’re not the first guy to lose a bet in our house.”
“I haven’t lost anything. That thousand dollars is mine.”
“We’ll see.”
We breeze past rows of odd and interesting playthings. Handcuffs and ball gags. Silky nighties and leather chaps. My pulse races as I imagine the scenarios. I could have a lot of fun in a place like this.
Andre stops in front of a glass display case. A burly dude is behind the counter. Colorful tattoos wind around his arms, disappear underneath his shirt, and continue along his neck.
“Can I help you guys?” the man asks.
Andre points through the case to what looks like a medieval torture device. “Yeah, we need one of those in a size small.”
“Size small?! There’s no way I’m gonna fit in a small.”
“You’ll fit,” Andre and the man say in unison. Their eyes meet and they share knowing smiles. This feels like a game that everyone knows the rules to except for me.
“Do you need a fitting room?” the man asks.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Andre says.
“A fitting room?” I whisper. “Bro, I don’t need your help getting that on. I can take care of it myself.”
“What are the stakes?” the employee asks.
“Big Nick here is putting his big dick into lock-up for a month,” Andre explains. “If he makes it, he gets a thousand dollars. But he won’t make it.”
The employee shoots me a smarmy grin, licks his teeth, then shakes his head. “Nope.”
“You’re both wrong,” I huff. “Give me the cage. I’m winning this bet.”
The employee hands the chastity device to Andre instead of me. I notice the man won’t address me directly, like I’m not even a person. Does he think Andre is my handler or something?
We head over to a changing room. Andre steps inside with me. The small space is brightly lit with mirrors at every angle.
“Drop your drawers,” Andre instructs.
I undo my jeans and let them fall to my ankles. Andre’s eyes grow wide as he takes in the sight of my meaty manhood. “Are you completely soft?”
I put my hands on my hips and stand proudly in a Superman pose. “Yep, seven inches soft, twelve inches hard. I’ve got a true foot-long down there. So how do you expect me to fit in a small?”
Andre smiles deviously. “You’ll fit.” He takes apart the device and sets the spare pieces on a beat-up and stained chair. The first piece is a gleaming steel ring, which he pushes my cock into and then squeezes my nut sack through the hoop.
“Fuck, that’s cold.” I try to pull away but Andre holds me captive by my balls. Then, things go from awkward to just plain humiliating as I feel the blood rush to my shaft.
“Don’t get hard.”
“I’m not trying to, but when someone holds my dick, I tend to react.”
He slaps my nuts. The pain comes fast and hot, burning bright with a simultaneous urge to puke. “Fucking hell,” I squeak.
Andre reaches between my legs and pokes my cock inside me like an accordion. I didn’t know that was possible. Then he stuffs what’s left of my limp dick into the impossibly small metal tube and threads the clips together with the ring. Everything snaps into place while I’m still blind with pain. The final nail in the proverbial coffin is when he snaps the lock shut. I hear it echo in my ears.
When I’ve finally recovered enough to see straight and stand upright, I’m stunned to find myself stuffed tight in the cage. My flared cock head strains against the metal bars of the headpiece. I can’t even see the rest of my dick. It’s all mashed together inside me.
“How’s it feel?” Andre asks.