HeathrowSubmitted by: email@example.com
As I sat in Heathrow waiting for my flight, I couldn't believe what had happen. I reached down, unnoticed, and felt the padlock concealed beneath my trousers. How could I be flying halfway round the globe with my privates locked in a device to which I didn't have the key? My dick throbbed inside its hard, unyielding shell at the thought of it all, but it couldn't get hard. It wouldn't get hard for quite a while.
J and I had been corresponding off and on for a couple of years. At his peek, J had held the keys to twenty men's chastity-belts around the world at the same time. I would fantasize about being another lad in his stable. But with me in California and him in England, it just stayed a fantasy. Then I received a work-assignment in Ireland. At the end of the assignment, I had a layover in London. Before my trip ever started, I arrange to meet up with J during the 12 hours I was stuck in London's airport.
As arranged, he picked me up at the airport. We stopped at a pub near his house for a warm half-pint. The beer mellowed me nicely. At his house, I wanted to suck is dick. But he wouldn't consider it unless I was wearing a chastity belt and he held the key.
Stripping down, he fitted me with Latowski-like belt. I covered my crotch with a curved, triangular plate, that fitted to a larger back plate that covered my ass. But instead of metal, like a Latowski, it was made of a very tough, non-conductive carbon-polymer. Sort of a plastic. He had to make a few adjustments to get it to fit me comfortable. Once my cock was twisted down in this hard, blue shell and the locks were snapped shut, he thought that I was worthy to drop to my knees and suck him while he played with my bare nipples. I was really getting into servicing him when he suddenly shrieked, "LOOK AT THE TIME! We have to get you to the airport."
I hustled into my clothes and he speed me to the airport in his car. It wasn't until we were at the airport that me beer-addled brain realized that I hadn't taken off the belt. "The key is back at my house," J said, resting his hand on my thigh as we sat in his car, "But you knew that. You have always wondered how it would be to be locked up. Here is your chance."
"I'll send the key along to you eventually. Don't worry; that belt won't set of the metal detectors here at the airport. It is 100% non-metal. Even the padlocks are made of the carbon-polymer. Now hurry up and get out of here or you'll miss your flight." He kissed me before he let me go.
So there I sat at Heathrow Airport, waiting for a flight that would carry me 5,000 miles away from the only access to my own penis.
Page last updated 2008-Aug-02 by: Altairboy@aol.com