Wetsuits, chastity and our leader!

This story was written one of our fans.

The Story

A question for the reader the think about when reading this – is this fact, fiction, a sexual fantasy, or just a load of rubbish?

Here I stood, in a wood near Threekingham, South Lincolnshire, stark naked “Here you go” a blonde haired hottie named Gordon said as he passed me his smooth skin Orca wetsuit, with a smile.

I had such a hard on, I had spent the last ten minutes following him on my bike, staring at him pedalling away in his wetsuit. He may have been slowly cooking in it, but I was getting hotter by the second. We had decided we should meet, as we lived fairly close to one another. I had a twenty mile ride south, he had a similar ride north.

I think we were both slightly disappointed, we both knew each other liked a bit of chastity, but neither of us had a device on; I had only been unlocked for a couple of weeks, after many months locked up (and had been wanking like a teenager ever since). I was so glad that I could get so hard and so glad I was finally unlocked.

Gordon gave the wetsuit a good shake as I handed it over, I wondered why, and obviously looked puzzled as he explained
“Just cooling it down for you”

“Thanks” seemed to be a good reply, although I was still not sure what the shaking and cooling down was all about.

Gordon had worn the wetsuit and biked to our meeting point, it was literally a wet wetsuit. I don’t know how he has the nerve to ride around on the open roads in a wetsuit, but then again, I can not even bring myself to wear cycling shorts without covering them up with trackies.

Getting the sweaty wetsuit on was not an easy task, but I more or less managed it, I noticed it felt really wet and cold, actually I felt freezing. I reached for the strap to pull the zip up and could not find it. With another smile Gordon approached and said
“Sorry, I removed the cord thing so it doesn’t flap about when I’m riding. I’ll zip you up”

Whilst I had been struggling into Gordon’s wetsuit, he had been climbing into my cycling clothes; lycra cycling shorts and baggy cycling shirt. I always wear trackies as well, but Gordon just stuffed them into his small rucksack.

I felt the zip go higher and higher, and the wetsuit compress me tighter and tighter, wow, this felt great, much more comfortable than my old Sola wetsuit at home. Then I heard a click. My stomach turned, extreme nervousness set in. I knew exactly what it was – a padlock. I reached back to confirm what I already knew, yea, definitely a padlock.

“What the ” I started to say

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Gordon laughed.

“There’s no need for a lock Dude” I protested, while still trying to keep the mood fairly light.

“OK, I’ll take it off then” Gordon said as he climbed back on to his bike

All I could manage to say at the sight of him getting ready to leave me was “What?!”

With another huge smile I was informed “I left the key in Thorney Wood”

“Where the hell is that?” I almost shouted, it appeared as if I was beginning to lose my sense to humour!

“Chill, it’s only about 6 miles or so south” Gordon explained

I moaned a bit, six miles south was twelve miles added on to my ride, I had planned on a forty mile round trip to meet Gordon, which was about my limit. Now I was going to be topping fifty miles.

Gordon, bless him, did give me the choice:
“You can wear it home and I’ll post you the key”

As we headed off, lead by Gordon, I quickly realised the Orca was getting really warm. I could feel my sweaty crotch easily sliding around inside the wetsuit. I was already as hard and as horny as a teenager, but the more I pedalled, the more I sweated and the greater it felt.

We enjoyed some chat on the way to Thorney Wood, but I was so concentrating on my dick, I have no idea what was actually said.

I was lead deep into the wood, we had to get off our bikes, on dismounting I felt what seemed like a lake of sweat that had pooled around my waist/groin area, flood down my legs like a fast moving river. I was sure I would have seen it run out of the bottom of the wetsuit, but my socks must have absorbed it all.

We pushed our bikes down a small grass track with bushes on either side, eventually, it opened up and ahead of us was a birdwatchers hide (which looked just like a cheaply made garden shed) with a large field in front of it. We entered the shed, it was my first time in a birdwatchers hide, there was a long bench seat parallel to the long wall and a slit in the wall for people to look out, with a small shelf just below, I assume for people to rest their elbows on when using binoculars.

“It’s going to get worse, before it gets better. ” Gordon said before continuing “but don’t worry, you will enjoy yourself. Actually is looks like you already are enjoying yourself” he nodded towards the dick shaped silhouette displayed half way down the Orca wetsuit.

It was made perfectly clear, I could just leave, in his wetsuit and go home. How the hell would I explain that when I got there! I really had no choice, I had to stay and do what Gordon wanted. Whilst feeling a little betrayed – he had always seemed so nice and “normal” in his emails, I was also really turned on by the experience so far.

I tried to tell Gordon “this wasn’t necessary and could he please just unlock me”, but he was having none of it.

“Sit on the bench, facing me” has said as he removed two pairs of handcuffs from his bag.

Now I really tried to protest, once again he said I could leave and he would post the wetsuit key to me, once again I backed down.

There was two holes drilled in either end of the shelf, one end of each handcuff was placed through the hole, the other was securely attached to my wrist, before I know it my arms were useless. Seconds later he had secured my feet to the bench. I was feeling somewhat nervous, but also confused, what was he going to do next. I could not really think he could do anything, I was encased in neoprene and chained up with no way to get the wetsuit off. It briefly went through my mind that he was just going to leave me out here, but that seemed to make no sense.

“Now to get a good look at you” he grinned, god this fella had a lovely grin I thought!

He knelt down on the floor of the shed, still wearing my cycling clothes and started rubbing his hands all over the smoothskin wetsuit. I had shaved most of my body, just the night before, his hands felt like electric, not ticklish, but literally like there was some power coming out of them. Whatever it was, I was soon sweating more vigorously than I had been on the bike ride and with it acting like a lubricant, I felt as if my whole body was coated in some sort of slime, warm slime, it really felt great.

Then, he got to my dick, if I wasn’t chained up, I would have taken off, I really do not think I have felt anything that good since I was twelve years old and wanked for the very first time. My hips were gyrating, my back was arching, but Gordon seemed to be an expert in driving me mad with desire, but not letting me cum. Suddenly he completely stopped, and removed a key which was taped to the underside of the shelf.

“Time for me to get my wettie back” he said.

I could hardly breath, but managed to croak between gasps of air “wow”

The next few minutes were obviously carefully choreographed, first he took the keys to my leg cuffs and put them outside.
“Just in case you try to knock me out or something, you are still going to be stuck in here” he explained.

Then the lock was removed from the wetsuit and both wrists unlocked. With his help I managed to get my top half out of the Orca. My arms were really tired, having been stretched out and locked, so instead of locking them back up, each hand was placed in a steel mitt, which was then secured by padlock. Great, I could now move my arms, but not actually do anything with
them! I then had both legs released, and the wetsuit pulled from my body. It didn’t take many seconds to re-secure my legs to the bench.

My situation had not really improved – I was now naked, my legs spread and locked up, yes I could move my arms, but with large steel mitts locked on to the ends of them, my hands were useless.

I saw an evil glint in Gordon’s eye as he reached for my dick and started stroking it slowly, really slowly, so slowly as to drive me mad with desire, I had never been so close to cuming in my entire life.
I was literally screaming “for fuck sake, let me cum”, well until he pulled my right, sweat soaked, sports sock off and stuffed it into my mouth.

After a few minutes of moving my body up and down to try and get a faster wank, the hand just left my dick, removed my gag
and put it back on to my foot.

I did try to continue the stimulation, but great big steel mitts do not really do the job!
“stop, or I’ll lock up your arms again” Gordon told me as he rooted around in his bag.

After a few seconds he approached me with a plastic looking flat bag. He gave it a bit of a shake and placed it over my dick and balls. Grabbing hold of my right arm, he placed my steel encased right hand on to the bag, holding it in place. Instantly I felt it was really cold.

“Ice bag” he smiled, before returning to his little rucksack.

I was sure my dick was not shrinking due to the cold, I was still feeling insanely horny, I must still be at full staff! A couple of minutes of hunting in his bag, Gordon turned to face me smiling and said
“Like this?”

He was holding up the most stunning stainless steel chastity device I had ever seen, the impish glint in his eye told me everything, he wanted to bolt that thing on to me. I did not really like idea, I had done the chastity thing, now I was really enjoying having access to myself!

There wasn’t much I could do, my legs were secured, I had steel mitts on and my groin felt numb due to the ice bag. I tried to talk him out of it, but with obviously practised skill, the thing was soon in position. He held up a small padlock and said
“This is the only lock where I left the key at home”

Click – I heard it like a gun shot as he pushed the hasp into the body of the lock. I felt like crying.

“Fuck, that was so fucking exhilarating” Gordon said, oblivious to my feelings

I could see his erection through my cycling shorts, erection is an understatement, this guy had nothing to be ashamed about in that department!

I seemed to snap out of myself, my brain had been as numb as my groin, now I wanted answers
“Dude, what have you done? Why?”

“Shhh” he moaned as the rubbed himself through my shorts

“Fuck that!” I screamed

“Quiet, or I’ll keep you locked up until Christmas!” he snapped back

I certainly did not want that, I could feel my dick getting hard again, I could also feel the pain of it’s metal jail. I felt so ready to explode watching Gordon slowly masturbate himself. Before I knew it, my shorts were covered in cum, just not my cum.

After a few seconds to compose himself Gordon said still short of breath
“Wow, locking you up is such a turn on!” before continuing, with an obviously happy face “if I knew how this felt, I would have locked someone up years ago”

“DUDE!” I once again almost shouted.

“Oh yes, the deal” he said, whilst unlocking my feet.

Yipee – I was “free” well, I could move about and walk around now, the metal on my hands was somewhat limiting, and the metal on my dick was of the utmost concern.

Gordon explained “You are going to be locked up for 6 months”

“Fuck no! I’ve just done that! I don’t want to do it again” I protested

“Hang on” he said, before carrying on with what was obviously a well thought out plan “6 months, assuming you do nothing, but for every story you write for the website we take two weeks off. ”

“So if I write thirteen stories, I get this taken off next week?” I interrupted as he removed the steel mitts.

Gordon barely paused and continued again “and for every lot of photos in a different location, you get one week off”

He let what he had told me sink in a little and said
“so if you write 10 stories, that would be 20 weeks off. Then if you take six different lots of photos, then yea, you can be unlocked next week.”

“Who do you think I am, I can’t write so many stories, what the hell would I say in them?” I asked

“Don’t care, just make them of decent length or they won’t count.” he said as he started removing my clothes from himself.
He handed me my cum filled cycling shorts and insisted “you will be wearing these home”

I pulled my shorts on as instructed, I could feel the wet cum on my balls, that made me so horny, knowing that I could not relieve myself. I could see him getting hard again as he stood there naked, grinning. Oh, I would love to get hard, I was trying and being prevented from doing so by the cock-lock that had been installed.

I asked questions, he gave answers, but there was no budging, I was either going to be locked up for six months, or learn how
to write and take loads of photos. I felt like throttling him, but decided this would not help. I really do not know why I was feeling so grumpy, I had fantasised about enforced chastity for a long time, now I was getting my wish.

“Here” he said, throwing me the Orca “you can borrow this until you get unlocked. It will make some nice photos, you wearing it”

Unlike Gordon, I did not have a rucksack – the easiest option was to wear it all the way home – a long and hot 30 mile bike ride. Thankfully the soft neoprene was much easier to cycle in than my twenty year old Sola wetsuit.

Gordon removed a lovely UPS cycling outfit from his rucksack and packed up his handcuffs and steel mitts (I was glad to see
them put away!). He looked so good when he put his bike clothes on, it also made me ultra, ultra horny with no chance of relief.

I asked a question at the beginning of this: fact, fiction, a sexual fantasy, or just a load of rubbish? – well this is my first story for wetsuitlads!

7 Replies to “Wetsuits, chastity and our leader!”

  1. Regardless it is a great story. Having a hard time concealing my hard on while reading this on the bus. Definitely would be fun to be in your position.

  2. I go out on my bike with my rubber suit under tracksuit in the hope one day someone lock me into a rubber prison

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