The whiskey burned Douglas's throat as he leaned back in the leather booth, listening to his buddies swap war stories about their most intense chastity experiences. The upscale bar provided the perfect cover for their monthly gathering—just four corporate guys unwinding after work, nobody suspecting the kinky reality beneath their tailored suits.
"Six months straight," Marcus was saying, gesturing with his tumbler. "She only unlocked me for cleaning."
"Amateur," laughed Pete. "Try eight months with a steel device that had internal spikes. Every morning wood was pure agony."
Douglas had been quiet all evening, nursing his drink while the others competed with increasingly extreme tales. But when silence fell and three pairs of eyes turned to him expectantly, he knew his moment had arrived.
"Julie locked me in something special last month," he began, his voice steady despite the memory making his current cage feel suddenly tight. "Steel honeycomb design with removable spikes she could screw in wherever she wanted."
The table went quiet. Even in their group of hardcore enthusiasts, Douglas's relationship with his office manager was legendary for its intensity.
"She spent an hour positioning each spike," Douglas continued, his cock stirring as he remembered Julie's methodical precision. "Every hole in that honeycomb pattern became a potential torture point. The slightest swelling pressed my flesh against dozens of not-quite-sharp points."
"Jesus," Marcus whispered.
"The real mindfuck was the randomness. Some spikes faced inward, others angled down. Julie would remove a few just when I thought I'd mapped the pain, then add new ones in different spots." Douglas took another sip, savoring his friends' rapt attention. "She kept me locked for three weeks, adjusting the spike configuration every few days."
"How did you handle work?" Pete asked, fascinated.
"That was her favorite part. Julie would call me into her office for 'meetings' and describe exactly which spikes she planned to move that evening. I'd sit there getting hard while she detailed how the new arrangement would feel, my cock pressing against steel points while she talked about quarterly reports."
Douglas smiled at the memory of Julie's predatory grin as she'd torment him during business hours, her professional demeanor hiding the sadistic creativity that made his nights a symphony of exquisite suffering.
"The worst part? She'd unlock me just long enough to readjust everything, letting me see my marked flesh before imprisoning me again with a completely new torture pattern."
His friends stared in stunned silence, finally understanding why Douglas always claimed Julie was in a league of her own.