Chastity Confessions from a Melbourne Male Striper

I was one of the Melbourne Chastity Dancers back in my twenties. We weren’t really from Melbourne – there was only one of us I thought was even Australian, and he turned out to really be a Saffer. I’d probably get in trouble in both Australia and South Africa for it, but I could never tell their accents apart, and neither could the women we danced for. They all though he was an Aussie too. Melbourne was the market branding Trina came up with, international but not too international. Trina ran the show. That’s her stage name, by the way, I don’t think I ever learned her real name. She had I suppose a fairly typical career for the industry. Stripper at 18, doing porn at 20, bondage model at 23, professional Domme at 30. When she was pushing 40, she came full circle back to stripping, only she wasn’t the one stripping now, she was the one running the business. We were the strippers – a bunch of guys entertaining women at bachelorette parties, birthdays, or other occasions where they wanted to look at buff, nude guys. The gimmick Trina came up to make the Melbourne Chastity Dancers special was the chastity part - we started off the show all locked in our chastity cages. As our pants came off and the women saw the cages, they always squealed, shrieked and whooped. We would dance and let the women feel and grope us for a while. Most of them loved holding our caged packages, and you needed pretty good pain tolerance for having your balls squeezed – there was always at least one woman in the audience who couldn’t resist squeezing. I actually enjoyed that part, but most of the guys didn’t like it. Trina, ex-Pro Domme that she was, always told them men has paid her good money to do far worse, so suck it up and let the girls have their fun. Later on in the show, keys to our cages would be randomly handed out to the women, and they would spend some time trying to figure out who had who’s key. Once a woman found the guy her key worked on, she could unlock him and play with his newly freed cock. He was hers for the rest of the party. We weren’t supposed to cum while we were locked up (and that was hard for me when a woman who really like to get rough got hold of my balls), but once we were unlocked, the women could make us cum if they wanted. Most of them did, they liked the power of making a random guy shoot his load, especially after they’d just freed his cock from a metal cage. It was a gray area legally, letting them touch us, but Trina knew how to work such things. I always meant to ask her about it, learn from her, but never quite got around to that before, well before. We’ll get to that. Anyway, Trina herself recruited me from the gym we both worked out at. I’m tall, and even though I’m still in pretty good shape these days, it’s nothing like I was back then. In my twenties, metabolism working for me, and only a couple of years removed from playing college water polo, I was very buff. Trina didn’t have any trouble walking up to strangers and talking to them about anything and everything, so she didn’t beat around the bush or go through a bunch of small talk, she just came right out with the offer as I was toweling off by the pool in a pair of Speedos and feeling sexy about myself. “I run an exotic male dance troupe – male strippers, like the Chippendale guys. We do bachelorette parties and the like. You’ve got a perfect body for it. I pay well, if you want the job.” I wasn’t quite as bold as she was, it took me a while to believe what I’d just heard. But we talked a bit, and she convinced me to sign up. I supposed it didn’t hurt that she had her Pro Domme vibe going, and I found that intriguing. She left the chastity part out until the very end though, when I’d already been basically talked into the gig. The idea was a bit shocking, but exciting too. I didn’t really need convincing, but Trina talked it up anyway, really sold it as getting the customers worked up and excited. And she was right. Back then, the hot thing in town was women t

Throwing “re-launch” parties for a friend coming off a divorce or breakup with a long-term boyfriend. The chastity angle was a huge win when the break-up in question happened because the guy had cheated on her. There were always lots of comments like “Too bad you didn’t have Mark in one of those,” but I have to admit I was always a little conflicted by that type of party. Half the time, the divorcee seemed more like she was faking her enthusiasm and it was her friends who were enjoying themselves, using her romantic train wreck as an excuse to party with some naked guys. But when the aggrieved woman was into it? Oh, those were fun parties. It was a party like that where I met Erica. It was for her friend Sue, who everybody said had terrible luck with men, but when they said “luck” I think they really meant “judgment.” Anyway, the party had started out pretty hot. Sue was into it, and that always gave the shindig a better energy than when the guest of honor was mopey or reserved, which some women can be around naked guys. I’d noticed Erica early on, being tall myself I always notice tall girls, and I tried to subtly gravitate towards her in my dances. It never seemed to work very well. There were a dozen girls, and – not to brag or anything - I was always one of the popular dancers, and Sue in particular liked me. Since she was the guest of honor, I felt like I had to give her the attention she wanted. I did make it around to Erica a couple of times early in the night, and she somewhat shyly felt up my caged package. It brought a smile to her face, one of those thoughtfully, slightly wicked ones the best girls sometimes get. But we never had a chance to say much to one another, not over the loud music and with the other girls hooting, hollering, and groping. It was later, during the “treasure hunt” part of the party where the girls got their keys and tried them out, that we finally started to talk. What happens during this part of things is all of us guys line up – we’ve been completely naked except for our cages for a while at this point – and Trina hands out a key to every woman who wants to try her luck. Then the women with keys pair up with us to go off to a semi-private area where they can enjoys some more feels and gropes before trying their key in our lock. If the key works and unlocks us, like I said above, they get to claim the guy as theirs for the rest of the party. If their key doesn’t work, then every guy and girl who still haven’t found a match rotate and we try again. Six women asked for keys at that party, and Erica was one of them. I was hoping she would be, and I was hoping she’s end up with my key, but such things were always up to chance. There were only four of us dancers that night, so two of the girls secretly got dummy keys that wouldn’t work in any lock. Oddly, I hoped that if Erica didn’t get my key, that she got one of the dummies. I’d never felt that way before, but I didn’t want her “winning” one of the other guys. Sue claimed me as her first partner, and used me to get herself pretty worked up before trying her key. It didn’t work, and she was disappointed, but I caressed her bottom to console her and whispered that I knew she had one of the working keys, that Trina always made sure the guest of honor got a real key. “But don’t tell anyone,” I whispered. “Don’t want any of your friends to think it was rigged.” Sue seemed happy to know she was going to unlock some guy, even if it wasn’t me. Myself, I was happy there was still a chance Erica would unlock me. But first there was another girl, I don’t remember her name, a bubbly, sloppy sort of blonde who’s curves were in constant rebellion against her clothes. Her key didn’t work either, but I did hear Sue let out a whoop as she unlocked Max, our Saffer. I suppose he was an okay consolation prize for her. Then it was time to rotate, and I found myself staring at Erica. She was staring at my locked cock in the chastity cage.

“Really?” I asked, finally getting a moment to speak.

“Only on the Internet,” she replied. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” I said. “I mean, it gets quite snug if I get aroused, and there’s some discomfort, but nothing bad.”

She gently took hold of my device, treating it with care like a fragile heirloom she was afraid to drop. “You’re trying to get hard right now, aren’t you?” she asked.

“It tends to happen when a beautiful woman is holding my balls,” I said. She blushed slightly—just a little—but handled her steel-restrained package with more confidence than before.

“You get touched up quite a bit, do you not? At parties like this, perhaps?”

“Yep, part of the job.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I do,” I said.

“How does it work? Do you just wear it for the party, or is it on all day? I’ve heard some men keep theirs locked long-term?”

“Just for parties here,” I answered. “Trina has us lock up right before we leave in the van.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit let down. “Maybe guys don’t stay locked that long after all.”

“I think they do, actually,” I tried to reassure her. “I’ve never worn this for more than a few hours at a time, but I believe I could manage it long-term comfortably. Though sexually, it might drive me mad.”

She nodded, seemingly deep in thought as she gently caressed the cage and my balls. Suddenly, noise erupted from the front of the club, and we both turned to look.

Shouts rose up, followed by camera flashes. I looked toward the entrance where several people with cameras were swarming past the bouncer into the club, snapping photos of dancers and guests alike. Erica and I stood near the back, away from the initial crowd surge. She let out a muffled shriek and released my package.

“Get me out of here!” she said, grabbing my arm. “Please! I can’t have my picture taken right now.”

I scanned our surroundings. A hallway leading to the bathrooms was just behind us, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door. I spotted a sign pointing toward “Parking” and followed the arrow. It curved around a corner and descended half a flight of stairs. Through an industrial-style windowed door, I could see an underground parking lot. I pushed the door open, and we stepped out.

A flash went off in our faces. A guy stood there with his camera. Erica shrieked again. Reacting purely on instinct, I punched him, knocking him down as he fell backward, while grabbing his camera from him. Erica was already running toward a stairway at the far end of the small garage.

“This way!” she yelled.

I hurried after her, feeling slightly dizzy with the realization that I was sprinting through a public parking garage wearing nothing but a rather small stainless steel chastity cage. But adrenaline kept me moving forward until I caught up with Erica.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She ignored my question. “Did you get his camera?”

“Yes.” I held it up for her to see.

“Thank you,” she said as we reached the stairwell door. She took the camera and kissed me. “My apartment is in this building. The garage connects directly to the club. These are the back stairs; I should be safe now.”

I looked back toward where we had exited the club. The guy I’d punched was slowly getting to his feet. He seemed bigger than he first appeared, sporting a sort of mafia look. When another large, goon-like figure joined him from inside the club, I definitely didn’t want to head that way—especially while naked and caged.

“Can I come with you?” I pleaded, pointing back toward the club entrance. “I won’t be popular over there right now.”

Erica nodded. “Quickly, before they spot us again.”

We slipped through the door, letting it close slowly to avoid making noise. Through the window, I could see the two men. The guy I’d hit was shrugging his shoulders in confusion. The other man pointed toward the garage exit ramp leading onto Third Street and moved that direction, while the first stood by the club door, rubbing his chin with a clearly annoyed expression.

We were in the stairwell now, and Erica began to bounce

I was making my way up the stairs. She had long legs and looked quite athletic. I followed behind her, my cage bouncing along with each step, letting me feel its weight in my balls. By the time we reached the fifth floor, I was starting to catch my breath—though perhaps it wasn’t just fatigue; maybe those poor testicles of mine were begging for a rest. She turned back and gave me a look. It comforted me to see she was breathing heavily as well.

“Just one more flight,” she said. At that moment, we both heard a door open somewhere below us, followed by the echo of footsteps in the stairwell. Erica’s lips moved silently: Let’s go!

We continued our ascent as quietly as possible, unsure who might be waiting for us on those stairs. It could have been my unpleasant plug-wearing companions, or simply another resident passing through. Either way, I wasn’t eager to bump into anyone and decided the cage could keep tugging at my balls a bit longer. We reached the sixth floor, where Erica slowly eased open the door. She peered out into the hallway before whispering, “It’s clear; let’s go.”

Stepping out into the brightly lit corridor, she was dressed in tight designer jeans and a rugby-style top, while I stood there stark naked with my gleaming stainless steel chastity cage locked firmly around my cock. We moved quickly but quietly down the hall, Erica leading by the hand, causing the cage to swing slightly uncomfortably between my legs. Behind us, the door clicked shut softly.

“My apartment is in the other wing,” she said quietly. “On the far side of the elevators.”

She started guiding me across the elevator lobby but suddenly turned around and pushed me back toward where we had come from.

“People!” she hissed.

The click-clack of heels on marble sounded out in front of us as the elevator chimed. Erica looked at me with panic in her eyes. I couldn’t think of anything better to do than hope whoever it was would head the other way and never look back.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on our side. Two well-dressed middle-aged women rounded the corner from the bank of elevators and headed straight toward us. They stopped dead when they spotted me. Naturally, both stared at my crotch, focusing intently on the cage there. I considered covering myself with my hand, but somehow that felt like it would make things even more awkward. Instead, I met their gaze and offered what I hoped was a perfectly normal, pleasant smile—the kind any stranger might give someone they meet in an apartment hallway. They looked like sisters. One continued staring at my cage while the other gradually scanned me up and down with that familiar ‘appraising meat’ look I had grown accustomed to during my time as a male stripper. Then she turned her attention to Erica, who was trying desperately to blend into the wallpaper.

“Well done,” she said to Erica with a slight smile. “But you’d better hurry inside before someone else shows up who doesn’t appreciate his… um… display quite as much as we do.”

Erica gulped. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Douglass. I didn’t mean to… we had a little emergency.”

Mrs. Douglass kept smiling. “I hope it doesn’t spoil your evening,” she said, pulling her sister along down the hall. As they passed us, she glanced at my cage again, caught my eye, and I winked. “My, my,” she remarked.

We crept back into the elevator lobby and hurried across the other wing toward what I hoped was Erica’s apartment. I could feel the older women’s eyes on my rear as we moved.

We were almost running now, with the cage bouncing around between my legs again. A door opened somewhere behind us—probably Mrs. Douglass and her sister entering their place. I hoped so anyway, though it still sent a shiver down my spine. Finally, Erica stopped at a door and fished a key out of her jeans pocket. She unlocked it and pulled me into a medium-sized but nicely decorated apartment.

“You can see the front entrance of the club from my balcony,” she said, leading me across the room after locking the front door. We quietly slipped out onto the sliding glass balcony—and there I stood, still naked and wondering if anyone was watching—peeking down toward the club’s main doors. Someone had called the police; cop cars were now pulling up outside with their lights rolling while a large crowd gathered nearby. Two of my fellow Danc

ers were standing on the sidewalk, still nude except for their cages. This was drawing a lot of attention. “Wow,” Erica said. “Thank you again for saving me from that. Oh, this is going to be a mess.” I nodded. “Yeah, I might have to find a new side hustle.” Trina’s business was in a legal gray area. This might not be good for her going forward. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “This must really suck for you. Has it ever happened before?” “No, never. What the hell did happen, anyway?” Erica scowled. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. Well, my Dad’s fault, or his opponent anyway. My Dad is a politician. He’s running for Lieutenant Governor. I’m sure his opponent did this, he’s a rotten guy with lots of shady connections. Probably wanted to get pics of me to smear Dad with. I should’ve known better.” “Well,” I said, looking around. “Maybe we shouldn’t be out here where someone could get a picture of us like, well, of you with me like this.” “Oh! Good point,” she said, and we slipped quickly back into the room. I suppose I had some goosebumps on my skin, because Erica looked worried and said “It must’ve been cold out there for you.” She looked at me, up and down, and then said with a playful little grin “I don’t really want to, but I should probably offer you a towel or something to cover up with. I do like looking at you though. You’re very nice to look at without your clothes.” I grinned back. “I’m okay without the towel if you are. I wouldn’t do this job if I wasn’t a bit of an exhibitionist. I like women looking at me.” “You should,” she said, and my cock twitched, trying to get hard in its cage. She looked at it. “You’re still, ah, restrained.” She came closer and reached down to take my caged package in her hand. “What are you going to do about this?” She sounded a bit concerned. I thought maybe I should be too, but strangely I wasn’t. I shook my head. “I don’t know. The key’s probably back at the club. Trina has spares she keeps with her, but I’m not really keen to go back there right now.” Erica was fondling my balls with one hand and running the other across my body, my ass, back, chest. It felt good. I moaned a little as her hand closed more tightly on my balls. I’d found the squeezer! She began rhythmically squeezing my balls and planting little kisses across my chest. “You can stay here for now. Can you get out of this without the key?” she asked. “Maybe,” I replied. “Never tried too hard. Was never in it for more than a few hours.” “I still have my key,” she said softly. “We never got a chance to try it. Maybe I can set you free.” “There’s a one in six chance it works,” I said cheerily. “One in four,” she corrected. “I already tried two other guys and it didn’t work.” My arms circled her and I looked down to see the key still on its chain around her neck, dangling between her breasts. I nuzzled her hair. “But first,” she said before I could reply, “I want to finish my, um, hands-on private session that got interrupted.” “Please do,” I said. “And no time limit either, you can make it last as long as you want.” I was very much enjoying what she was doing. She sighed, then became rougher with me, one hand still rhythmically squeezing my trapped balls and the other grabbing my ass so hard I was sure there would be bruises later. My cock throbbed, bulging against the stainless steel bars of the cage. I grunted as she squeezed extra hard. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she yelped, pulling her hand away. I quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand back towards my balls. “It’s okay,” I said. “I like it. Go ahead, play rough with them. I’ll let you know, I’ll say ‘Red Light’ if it’s too much for me.” She cautiously took hold of my balls again. “Are you sure?” I nodded. She began kneading my balls, building up in pressure. I was moaning with pleasure. She bit my shoulder. She used a single finger to stroke what she could reach of my cock through the steel bars. She knelt in front of me for a better view of things, and worked over my caged cock. She t

“Take it, cage and all,” she put into her mouth and gave me a caged blow job. I was breathing deeply, trying to keep control. After a while, I rasped out “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.” She took me out of her mouth and held my balls without squeezing. “Inside the cage and everything?” “Yes,” I nodded. “You’ve got me very close right now.” She stood up, her hands releasing my caged package and circling around my neck. She kissed me on the lips. “Not yet, Babe. Not yet.” She let go of me and walked over to a small console against the wall. “Maybe we should have a Gin and Tonic while you let things settle down.” I agreed. She poured the drinks and came back, motioning to the couch. We sat down and she held her glass out. I touched mine to it with a clink. “To our escape,” she said. She sat very close to me, her fully clothed hip pressed up against my naked one. She put one arm around my shoulders and leaned into me. “I am sorry things got so screwed up for your job,” she said. “But I’m not sorry we ended up here. I am really enjoying having you here like this.” “Naked, locked in a chastity cage, and basically at your mercy?” I asked. “Yes,” she said with a bright smile. “I find all of that incredibly…incredibly…nice. Do you think it’s nice? Or are you just going along because you have to?” I took a sip of my drink and tried to look as thoughtful and wise as a guy can when he’s naked and caged next to a fully clothed woman. “Maybe I think it’s so nice because I have to go along with it,” I said, putting my arm around her and giving her a little hug. “Oh, is that how it is with you?” I shrugged. “I suppose it helps with the job. The part about agreeing to be locked up in a chastity cage for your entertainment anyway.” “Like being an exhibitionist helps?” she asked. “Like being an exhibitionist,” I replied. “So speaking of the job,” she said, lifting the necklace with the key on it over her head. “What happens if this doesn’t unlock you?” “I’m more interested in what happens if it does.” I asked. “Well,” she said. “As I recall, the rules of the party said if my key unlocks your cage, then you belong to me.” She put her drink down, grasped my cage again, and slid the key into the lock. “It goes in the lock,” she said. “So far so good.” “All of them go in the locks,” I said. “But does it turn?” She held the key as if she was going to turn it. Or try to turn it. But she hesitated. “If it turns,” she said, “then I win and you belong to me?” “Those are the rules,” I agreed, not bothering to mention anything about how long I’d belong to her. I was happy to leave that open ended for now. “Of course,” she said, pulling the key back out of the lock. “Until I try it, you still belong to me anyway, don’t you?” I gulped a little at this. “I suppose so.” “Good,” she said, hanging the key back around her neck. She stood up and unbuttoned her pants, slid them over her hips and pushed them to the floor. She was wearing a very small, now very wet, thong. She slid that off too, revealing a bare pussy, the lips glistening and slightly puffy. She was very aroused. She put one knee beside me on the couch and swung the other across my body. “If you’re wearing a chastity cage, I believe you’re supposed to be good with your mouth. Are you?” I slid down a bit on the couch until her pussy was inches from my face. I reached behind her to take her ass in my hands. “If I’m not, I’ll practice till I am,” I promised as I pulled her to my mouth. My cock, straining to get hard in its prison, felt like it was going to rip my balls off as it pulled the cage away from my body. The bars were unyielding, but my cock pulsed against them anyway, not caring it was a losing battle of flesh against steel, only knowing it wanted to be hard, rock hard, for this woman. I’d never been this aroused wearing the cage before. As I eagerly licked her pussy, buried my mouth in it, I felt the weight of the cage. My cock would struggle to get hard, lift the cage straight up in the

Even with the tug on my trapped testicles, the metal’s weight would drag my cock back to one side or the other, yanking my balls once more. Then another pulse arrived, repeating that little aerial dance I could feel but not see.

It went on for a while—timeless really—and then she climaxed. Grinding against me with her hands gripping my head tight, she came out with a feline growl. A big cat type of climax, not some house pet one. When it was over, she rose up. Her legs were slightly unsteady; I couldn’t tell if that was from the orgasm or just the position they held while I brought her there.

She looked down at my cage. I followed where she stared. My cock and balls had turned purple, swinging the heavy cage around in a drunken sort of way. She touched a fingertip to my forehead.

“Stay here Babe, I’ll be back.”

She turned toward what seemed like the bedroom. Her rear was captivating. Less than a minute later she returned, having discarded her top so now she stood completely naked. The key still dangled between her bare breasts. My eyes went from them to her uncovered pussy and back again. Then up to her hips swaying just slightly enough to be sexy without looking trashy.

So much was happening visually that I didn’t notice the hand towel until she draped it over my thigh and sat on the floor right between my legs.

“Slide down a little more,” she said, pushing my thighs apart as I complied, giving herself full access to my caged cock and balls.

“You mentioned I almost made you cum inside your cage earlier?”

I nodded yes.

She smiled. “I think I want to make that happen now.” She started kneading my testicles again, pressing her tongue through the bars to lick what she could reach on my shaft. All I did was groan.

“We’ll try using the key in the morning, Babe.”