The door to the apartment block buzzed in response to the button he had just pushed. The intercom remained silent, there was no need for conversation.
He went through the door, closed it behind him and walked quickly to one of the four doors in the small hallway, glancing at the other 3 as he passed. It was quiet.
He stood in front of the 4th door. He had been here before. It had seemed like an eternity ago, in fact it was just less than 4 weeks.
It was then that he’d had the device fitted.
He corrected himself.
The device had been locked on him, and he was returning to have it removed.
He bent down and took of his shoes. He moved quickly in case anyone came out of the other doors. He took off his tracksuit and placed it, with his shoes into the large holdall he had brought with him.
He stood back up and in an unnecessary gesture smoothed an imaginary wrinkle out of the wet suit he had revealed by removing his street clothes. In a movement he had repeated countless times in the last month his hand brushed against something hard under the tight fitting wet suit.
It was this that he had come to have removed and ‘this’ was a device that was locked over his cock and balls. He felt his cock stir at the touch and then the device did its job, as it always did, and instantly stopped him from getting erect.
He pulled out a pair of gloves from the side pocket of the bag and slipped them on, ensuring that they went under the sleeves of the wet suit. Apart from his head, he was completely covered in neoprene. He had worn his wet suit boots under his shoes to save time. He closed the bag, stood and, after the briefest hesitation, knocked on the door.
The door opened. He picked up the back and went in. The man who he had arranged to be the key holder for this experiment stood to one side to let him in. He turned to see the man holding a pair of handcuffs.
‘Glad to see you’re on time, turn around’. He did as instructed and offered his wrists behind his back. He’d done this before.
He felt the cuffs snap round his wrists and click into place. They were quite tight although the wet suit sleeves and gloves ensured that they were not too uncomfortable
A hand grasped the back of his neck and pushed him forward, steering him through a small hall and then round to the right to the room which he knew to be a bedroom. The furniture that had been there on his last visit had been removed. In its place was a small table, but what caught his attention was a cage on the floor with the end facing him open. He was under no illusions what it was for.
His key holder appeared and pulled a wetsuit hood over his head. His suit was unzipped, giving the briefest cooling sensation on his shoulders before the bottom of the hood was tucked inside the suit and it was zipped back up fully.
A large black ball was pushed into his mouth and the accompanying straps fastened behind and over his head. He exercised his jaws to get used to the soft rubber gag.
‘Don’t want to disturb the neighbours’ the key holder joked, a little predictably.
His head was pushed down towards the cage and, knowing what was required, he didn’t resist. He managed to manoeuvre himself into a sitting position inside just as the door to the cage was locked behind him.
It was at this moment that Gordon knew for certain that he was going to have to put up with the CB 3000 for a little while longer, that its removal was not going to be as easy as he had hoped and it would not be the only thing to cause him discomfort for the next couple of days. He should have known anyway, the instruction had been to report at 2:00 Friday, and not to make any plans for the weekend………….
To be continued… In part 2.