Brad Rounded The Corner Into His Apartments Front Hall Just As His Landlord And The New Potential Tenant

Brad rounded the corner into his apartment’s front hall just as his landlord and the new potential tenant stepped in the door. Not processing what this meant at first — after all, in the privacy of his own home, Brad had completely forgotten about being naked — both the men who’d just entered his apartment got a full view not just of Brad’s beefy body, but also of his biggest secret: a tiny little chastity cage crushing the “manhood” between his legs into little more than a sad-looking nub.

“Oh, fuck!” Brad exclaimed as he came to his senses, dropping the carton and letting its contents spill all over the floor as both his hands rushed to cover his crotch.

Knowing an opportunity when he saw it, Brad’s landlord turned to face the potential tenant (whose eyes were still glued to the naked stud they’d stumbled upon). “If you take the place, you’ll get two sets of keys: one for the front door and one for his cage.”

Brad was shocked by what he heard his landlord saying. The cock cage had been the compromise he thought they’d arrived at when he wasn’t able to pay rent for the past few months. His landlord had promised that, if Brad allowed him to lock up his cock, he’d let the handsome himbo live rent-free for…

Brad’s heart sank as he remembered the full deal: rent-free for six months, with today being the beginning of the seventh.

Looking Brad over before then also looking around the space, the tenant got a wicked smile on his face. “I’ll take the place, as long as he’s included,” he said, adjusting the growing bulge in his pants as he spoke. “But I’ll only need the first set of keys. That cage isn’t coming off any time soon…”

Is there anything better than the carefree feeling of walking around your place in your birthday suit drinking straight from the carton? As good as it feels, nothing feels worse than getting caught by your landlord and some potential tenants who let himself in for the apartment viewing you totally spaced. They certainly got a great showing.

The ad Daniel saw didn’t exactly describe his ideal job: “WORKSHOP MODEL NEEDED ASAP - must be comfortable with nudity and adult content.”

Daniel was not particularly "comfortable with nudity" and, being a Christian father of three, "adult content" also wasn't something he usually condoned of. Still, money was tight and the pay they were offering for this position was incredible -- he even wondered if he could squeeze a few more dollars out of them since a "workshop model" was apparently needed so urgently.

When he called the man named "Alan" listed in the ad, a young-sounding guy picked up on the first ring. Saying he was interested in the "workshop model" position they had advertised -- if they could sweeten the deal with a couple extra hundred thrown on top -- the person on the other end didn't hesitate: "Yes, absolutely, I can make that work. The position's yours if you can be here in 15 minutes."

Daniel wasted no time going to the address he was provided with. To his surprise, the building had a sign saying "Learning Annex" out front -- and the specific suite to which he'd been directed seemed to have an art class in session.

Peaking in the barely-cracked-open door, Daniel saw a group of people painting at their easels in a circle, all of whom seemed to be paying attention to a flabby, old naked man standing on the platform at the centre. From this alone, he figured this must be the position for which he was being hired -- and, while he didn't love the idea of being totally exposed in such a public way, he did feel a bit of thrill at the idea of showing off his athletic physique and meaty package to a crowd of mostly young women. 

He was faithful to his wife, that was for sure. But who didn't like being "noticed" by members of the opposite sex? No doubt these ladies would much prefer to be studying a fine specimen of middle-aged manhood like Daniel over the dumpy-looking geriatric currently in their gazes -- no wonder they were willing to pay so much for another model to take his place ASAP!

"Are you Daniel?" a 20-something young guy in a button-up shirt (presumably the "Alan" he'd spoken to on the phone) asked anxiously as he came to the DILF spying on the class in session.

"Uh, yeah, I'm here for the, uh, modelling," he replied, having decided he would definitely take the job if it meant getting some appreciative attention from some very good-looking ladies in there.

"Oh, thank God," the slender young man said with a sigh as he looked Daniel up and down. "I thought we'd have to cancel tonight -- but you look like you'll be perfect for this!"

Daniel didn't love hearing that from another man -- especially one who seemed like he was probably a flaming homo -- but he was, at least, pleased to know he would be getting the payout and the thrill he'd started to hope this "workshop model" position would give him.

"We don't have much time," Alan continued, setting down a large sack next to him and starting to pull things out. "Here's a robe and a key to employee bathroom. Just leave all your things there and bring the key back to me," he said quickly, shoving the terrycloth garment into Daniel's arms.

Before DILFy Daniel had a chance to ask a question, Alan pointed down the hallway (presumably towards the employee bathroom) and added, "We'll go over the paperwork and any questions you have if there's still time when you get back."

Accepting that time was of the essence, Daniel did as he was bid and made his way to where he'd be sent. He made quick work of peeling off his clothes and setting them in a neat pile on the counter before donning the robe he'd been given. 

Going back out to find Alan again, Daniel saw the door to the suite was now open. He tentatively stepped inside to find the platform now empty and the students casually talking to each other.

"Oh, perfect," Alan said, thrusting a clipboard into Daniel's hands. "Just fill this out and we can get set up."

Noticing an attractive, young brunette sizing him up, Daniel barely looked at the forms he'd just been handed. Aside from making sure he spelled his name correctly and signed in the right places, he didn't bother to read most of it, just circling "N/A" wherever he could to speed up the process and quicken how soon he could show the hot young things in this room why they should be calling him "Daddy."

Absentmindedly passing the clipboard back to Alan, the younger man said, "Okay, I'll just look over your limits and everything if you want to go get comfortable on the platform."

If Daniel had been paying attention to something other than the fine pieces of ass in the room, he probably would have questioned that word Alan had just used: "limits." He probably would have realized that that form was asking about some very important things -- and that circling "N/A" was the worst thing he could have possibly done.

But Daniel was caught up in the moment, mounting the platform and -- with a deep breath to steady his resolve -- throwing off his robe to expose himself fully to everyone present.

The young ladies he'd been eying definitely all responded positively, eyeing Daniel's well-toned DILF bod hungrily. 

But, just when Daniel had convinced himself that this was something he was going to enjoy, Alan said something that surprised him: "Okay, folks, you'll have to clear out of here now so we can get set up."

The on-display Daniel gave Alan a quizzical look as everyone around him started to pack up their stuff. 

Maybe he would be posing for another group of art students? That had to be it. He just hoped that the next bunch would have as many -- if not more -- fine-looking young ladies in the mix.

"Let's get you in position," Alan said, climbing the platform and motioning for Daniel to put his legs on either side of the stool there.

Just as the last of the art students left the room, Alan began to pull a new item out of the bag he had with him. Daniel's eyes bulged when the young man produced what looked like shackles and started to attach them to the naked DILF's left ankle.

"Whoa, uh, is that... is that really necessary?" Daniel asked, a nervous laugh trying to cover how very anxious he felt in that moment.

"We need to make sure you stay in place through everything," Alan said casually, not looking away from what he was doing as he locked a second shackle onto Daniel's other ankle. "And the workshop participants go wild for this aesthetic," he continued, standing up to attach a connected set of shackles to Daniel's arms behind his back.

While feeling very apprehensive -- and suddenly quite aware of how very vulnerable he was (totally bare-ass, alone in a room with a fully-dressed stranger who'd just bound him in place) -- Daniel was willing to accept that Alan's explanation made a certain kind of sense. He would need to stay in place for the students to draw him, sure. And, all right, the shackles seemed a bit excessive, but in if they really made "the workshop participants go wild," maybe he could put up with the cold metal bondage for a few minutes...

Alan went back to rummaging through his bag, speaking absentmindedly to Daniel as he did so.

"You're really such a great find, you know?" he said casually. "Our normal model isn't anywhere near as fit as you are," he continued, seeming to find what he was looking for in his sack. "And all his limits mean that we can never get into the really extreme stuff most of our participants actually want to see."

There was that word again: "limits." This time, Daniel heard it. This time, it worried him. This time, he had to ask just what Alan meant by that.

Unfortunately for Daniel, he'd opened his mouth to speak in the same moment Alan was placing the item he'd just pulled out where it needed to go: a ball-gag right in the middle of the naked-and-bound DILF's mouth which he swiftly tightened in place.

In another moment of exceptionally bad timing, Daniel began his futile grunts of alarm and struggling against his bonds just as the first workshop participant entered the room. In Alan's mind, Daniel was just doing this for "added effect" -- acting the part of the "terrified victim" or playing up the image of a "reluctant submissive" for his audience.

"Is this the gay BDSM workshop?" the twinky newcomer asked, almost licking his lips as he sized up the well-muscled model on whom everything would be demonstrated very soon.

"Yep, you're in the right place!" Alan said causally, unloading more things from his bag and setting them up as more men filed into the room and found seats for themselves. Clearly, everyone had just been waiting for the cue to enter and, hearing Alan's words, were now eagerly filling the room.

Daniel continued to struggle helplessly and grunt in distress, trying to beg anyone to let him out of here. Being served up like a piece of meat to a bunch of fags was a nightmare -- one which was going to get much worse very soon.

"Can we record this?" a heavy-set guy sitting near Daniel asked, already holding up his phone to capture everything.

"Great question!" Alan said, using this as his cue to get started. "Hi, everyone, welcome!" he continued. "You'll be pleased to know that our model tonight has waived any rights to his image, so you can record and post away!"

Daniel went white as a sheet.

Fuck. Fuck! Fuck!!!

He should have read those forms more closely. Whatever happened now -- however invasive and nightmarish it ended up being -- would not just be limited to this moment and this room.

Visions of his totally-naked, shackled body (displayed on a stage in the centre of a group of otherwise casually-dressed gay men) being posted all over the internet flooded his mind. He would never be able to live this down. Everyone -- his friends, his family, his wife -- would see him getting reduced to nothing more than a pain-slut himbo by a scawny-looking fag who was young enough to be his son.

Yet, quickly stealing his focus from that train of thought was the next bombshell Alan dropped: "In some more good news, Daniel here has identified himself as a truly limitless submissive."

There were some sounds of surprise and approval from the audience, this crowd clearly curious to find out just what that meant.

"As you can see," Alan said, running his hand down Daniel's toned torso and then roughly grabbing hold of his his cock and balls. "Our model is very well-endowed."

The hold Alan had on Daniel's balls caused the bound DILF to bite down hard on the ball-gag in his mouth. It wasn't a particularly firm hold, but one which had been taken careless enough to cause an immediate reaction. Daniel's dick and balls were both extremely sensitive -- such that he always told the women he was with that they absolutely needed to be "handled with care."

"So, we'll spend our first hour on CBT," Alan said, releasing Daniel's manhood so that he could retrieve something he'd previously set on the side of the platform.

CBT? Where had Daniel heard that before? It sounded familiar, something he'd heard in a porn, he was sure...

Seeing Alan lift up a croquet mallet, it suddenly -- and horrifyingly -- came to him: "CBT" was "Cock and Ball Torture."

Daniel redoubled his pathetic attempts to beg for help and escape his shackles as Alan sauntered back up in front of him. "Since we had to stop at Level-3 CBT with our model last week, we'll pick up there today."

He mimed swinging the mallet like a golf club, lining it up directly with Daniel's heavy-set, defenceless balls.

"Once we get to Level 5, Daniel's package will be pretty much pulverized, providing an opportunity to move into two additional lessons," Alan said matter-of-factly, still miming the violent attack that was going to take place on Daniel's super-sensitive, totally defenceless genitals any moment now. "We'll go over how to provide effective First Aid when dishing out the most extreme forms of CBT," he continued. "And we'll also cover how this kind of CBT can be a great way to play with your sub's mind and convince him to beg you to keep his naughty bits 'safely' in chastity."

Winding up to finally connect the mallet directly with Daniel's balls any second now, Alan said simply, "So, folks, let's get this started..."

“Your country needs you.”

When Lt. Stevens heard those words, he didn’t hesitate to say he’d do whatever was necessary to serve his country.

Now, as he knelt in the skimpiest underwear he’d ever worn in front of a group of foreign dignitaries sizing him like he was their next meal, he was wondering if he should have asked a few more questions about exactly what his mission was going to entail…

It would be an understatement to say that the crowd was shocked when the football star shrugged off his ceremonial robes right before he began to give his Commencement address.

More shocking still was what Harrison was wearing underneath: a full slave collar around his neck and full steel chastity belt below the waist.

“I want to speak directly to you briefly because I think it is you, the ‘macho’ men like me who are graduating today, who have had the most diabolical lies told to you.”

Still caught up trying to make sense of what Harrison was wearing, most of the crowd was not listening to his words. Yet, as he continued to speak, more and more of them — especially the young men to whom he was speaking directly — started to listen.

“How many of you are sitting here now about to cross this stage and are thinking about all the promotions and titles you are going to get in your career? Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world, but I would venture to guess the majority of you are secretly fantasizing about a life of obedience, servitude, and submission.”

Not everyone could relate to what Harrison was saying — but a sizeable number of young men were now enraptured by every word he spoke.

“I’m here today to tell you it’s possible. It can happen if you want it to. If you are honest with yourselves—”

He paused to step out from behind the podium, allowing the crowd to get their first unobstructed view of his bare, beefy body and humiliating chastity belt.

“— like I am being honest with all of you today, then you can have the life you’ve always dreamt of.”

Harrison paused again, studying the faces in the crowd. Making eye contact with as many of the young men still captivated by his speech as he could, he concluded what he had to say.

“My life truly started when I began living my vocation as a servant and as a slave. I urge all of you who dream about that to do the same today.”

As Harrison turned to leave the stage, there was no raucous applause. Most still had no idea what to do in response to such an unexpected turn of events: the manliest football star the college knew not only just admitted to being a perma-locked and collared slave, but also actively encouraged others like him to pursue the same.

Still, even as Harrison walked away, out of the corner of his eye he could see what a difference he had already made: one, then another, and then yet another of the young men who had been hanging onto his every word were peeling off their graduation gowns, their shirts, their pants, and everything else that had been giving them a single shred of dignity and lowering themselves down upon their knees to where they knew they always dreamt of being…

When he stepped into the living room wearing only a towel, Vince hadn't realized that his roommate was home -- let alone that Randall appeared to be hosting some kind of event, judging by the half dozen other men seated in front of him. He didn't recognize any of them, but they appeared to be uniformly all of the same type: fat, old, ugly, and seemingly fixated on Vince.

"Vince," Randall said, smirking like he knew something his roommate did not. "Can you come here for a second?"

Vince had two reasons to hesitate. The first was that this was the first time all week his roommate had looked at him with something other than a scowl on his face. Randall had been covering Vince's share of the rent for three months now -- something he had been doing on the belief that Vince had fallen on hard times. When Randall discovered earlier that week that Vince had actually been spending his rent money on a pricy gym membership -- alongside everything else that had helped him gradually build his body into a work of art -- suffice it to say that he was none too pleased to have discovered that his apparently self-absorbed roommate had been taking advantage of him all that time.

Secondly -- and most pressing in this moment -- Vince was wearing nothing but a towel in a room full of strangers (all of whom, he noticed now, were eying him up with a definite hunger in their eyes). Did Randall really need him right now?

"Uh, just let me get --"

"It will only take a second," Randall interrupted. "Really."

Reluctantly walking up where his roommate was standing, Vince hardly a moment to gauge the situation before Randall suddenly yanked the towel away from around his waist and casually threw it aside.

"What the fuck?!?" he exclaimed, not yet having processed anything more than the initial shock.

Acting as though he was trying to calm his roommate down, Randall pointed to the laptop sitting on the coffee table in front of him and said something which had quite the opposite effect: "Just look at the camera..."

"Camera! What?!"

Finally putting the pieces together -- and realizing he was now totally exposed not just in front of the strange older men sitting in the room with him, but untold numbers of viewers online -- a feeling of total mortification overtook Vince. Coming to his senses, he quickly attempted to provide himself with some level of modesty by cupping his hands in front of his crotch (something which mattered little to those who would replaying the recording of his exposure later).

"Yeah, you see, Vince," Randall said, smirking even more widely now as he took in the sight of Vince's stellar physique and petrified expression. "I told my friends here about our little predicament," he continued, gesturing to the other men in the room.

Adding more anxiety to an already nightmare-inducing situation, Vince noticed with horror that several of the men had risen to their feet, obscenely rubbing their crotches as the tents within their pants grew -- and grew, and grew, and grew -- in size.

"You've got to prioritize working on that body of yours -- best gym membership, a personal trainer, top-quality protein powders, the best supplements a body can buy..." Randall began, making no effort to hide the way he was sizing up Vince's body like a piece of meat he was about to purchase from a butcher. "You can't possibly pay your share of the rent when you're investing in all that..."

The men in the room were coming closer. Vince knew -- with sudden terror filling him up -- that, despite being big, strong, and manly, he was prey this pack was about to pounce on.

"My friends here, they're gonna help both of us make enough today to cover a year's worth of rent," Randall said, stepping away to make room for a creepy old man fishing a shockingly large cock out of his pants to get closer to Vince.

Randall dipped in front of the camera only briefly to say some concluding remarks before leaving the scene completely and allowing the hundreds of well-paying viewers to get a good view of today's unwitting star: "Enjoy the show..."

Finding himself on his back, legs spread wide open, and about to take a third load from the man who was pummelling his hole like there was no tomorrow, it was hard to believe that Henry was supposed to be getting married to a member of the opposite sex this weekend.

Worse yet, the man who seemed intent on shooting his next load as deep into Henry's guts as possible was his fiancée's gay younger brother.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to go. Henry was supposed to marry a nice girl, settle down, get a little place in the suburbs and raise 2.5 kids while their dog ran around in a yard surrounded by a white picket fence.

But somehow, one thing had led to another when Greg was the only one left at his bachelor party...

Before he knew it, Henry started flirting back.

Before he knew it, Henry leaned in for a kiss.

Before he knew it, Henry was down on his knees.

Before he knew it, Henry was on his back with nine thick inches of cock splitting the formerly "straight" stud in two.

Looking up in wonder at the man who was supposed to be his brother-in-law, Henry knew he'd have to call the wedding off. After all, he could only see one future for himself now and it didn't involve any of the images of respectable manhood he'd previously envisioned.

Instead of being a husband, he'd be a whore. 

Instead of being a father, he'd be a faggot. 

Instead of being a dog-owner, he'd be the dog begging every real man for a bone for the rest of his days.

As Greg flooded Henry's insides with yet another massive load, the heretofore heterosexual felt his fiancée's younger brother's cum spilling out of his well-used man-cunt -- and every ounce of "manhood" he once pretended to have was leaking out alongside it...