Every Key But The One

Her divorce final just last year, him single for years, they had started dating a month prior, hit it off right away, they started seeing each other every other day and building a rhythm of deep, intense intimacy. Lately, as they opened up to each other and shared their pasts, she had been learning from him about his passion for steel bondage during sex, and her sharing her fantasies of being captured, tied up and forced to have sex, the thought of being totally helpless inside cold metal made her skin tingle. He loved the responsibility of introducing her to loving bondage, taking pride in making sure she stayed safe while having the time of her life.

They agreed he would bring a bunch of toys over for her to look at so she could pick what she wanted to try on Friday night. Excited about him coming over, knowing he had an hour drive to her house, she hopped into the shower to wash off the week, soaking for long time, washing her long hair. Taking a long drink of her wine, she continued getting ready. Drying off, then drying and fixing her hair, she then picked out her outfit: a black boned corset and a matching thong. She wrapped the corset around her waist, clipped the eyehooks closed, and grabbed the satin strings in the back, pulling them together to cinch her waist down.

"Man, I need this really tight to look great for him," she muttered, tugging even harder before tying it off and snapping the flap over the laces.

She checked out her slimmer waist in the mirror, totally happy with the look, then slipped into her four-inch strappy black heels, wrapped a colorful sarong around her hips, and put on some jewelry to complete the look.

Just as she was finishing her makeup, the doorbell rang. Butterflies hit her stomach hard. She hurried downstairs, pulled open the front door, and saw his eyes light up.

"Holy crap, you went all out," he said, stepping inside with a heavy duffle bag and pulling her in for a kiss. "You look amazing."

She handed him a glass of wine. "Come upstairs while I finish up."

He followed her up, watching her waistline as she led him to her ensuite bathroom. He dropped the duffle bag on the bed and followed her in, walking up behind her as she fixed her hair and makeup. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands pressing right over the tight corset.

"God, you are incredible," he whispered, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts.

"Hold on," she teased, giving him a look in the mirror even though her heart was pounding and she wanted him right there against the counter. "I'm not done. Go play with your toys and give me some space."

He walked out and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking a sip of wine, he unzipped the duffle bag and started pulling out his gear, laying the steel pieces across the mattress. Out came standard cuffs, ankle cuffs with eighteen-inch chains, a stainless steel collar with a built-in lock, extra chains, and brass padlocks.

Finally, he pulled out four pairs of Irish 8 handcuffs. These were heavy chrome-steel cuffs with side-by-side wrist holes and press-snap locks, sized out for men and women's wrists and ankles. Then he pulled out a small jingling pouch of keys.

Dressed to the nines, she walked out of the bathroom with a slow, swaying stride, holding her wine. Her eyes went wide when she saw the bed covered in steel.

"Damn, look at all that," she said.

"Told you, years of collecting," he grinned. "Just grabbed my favorites in a rush before I came over."

She sat down next to him, picked up a standard cuff, and squeezed it until the arm ratcheted open. With a mischievous grin, she looked at him and said, "Let's try these."

She held an open cuff up to his wrist, keeping it steady to see what he would do. He didn't flinch at all. Seeing he was cool with it, she squeezed the cuff shut--click, click, click, click--until it was snug on his wrist.

She took a sip of wine. He grabbed the other cuff attached to the chain and clicked it onto her wrist, binding them together. They sat there kissing for a few minutes, his free hand roaming over her hips and thighs as the chain clinked between them.

"So, did you bring keys, or are we stuck like this all night?" she asked with a grin.

"yes I brought 'em," he chuckled, grabbing the pouch and pulling out a ring with two sets of handcuff keys. "Almost forgot in such a hurry."

He unlocked both of them, dropped the keys back in the bag with a jingle, and set the cuffs aside.

Realizing her jewelry would just get in the way, she took off her necklace, bracelets and anklet, leaving only her earrings on and set items on the nightstand. Her eyes went straight back to the steel collar.

"What's this one?" she asked, picking it up.

"Stainless steel collar with a high-security cylinder lock," he told her.

She opened the hinge, held it up to her neck, bringing it closed. "How does this one lock?" she asked. "Like this," he said, pressing the center pin until it locked tight. She gave it a hard tug, but it wasn't budging. A small ring hung off the front. Feeling the cold steel locked around her throat made her soaked right through her underwear.

Next, she picked up one of the heavy Irish 8s. "How do these work?"

"Let me show you, but those are way too big for you," he said, taking them back and grabbing a smaller pair. "These will fit your ankles."

As he lined them up and pulling her ankles close together to fit in tight cuffs, she felt those butterflies again, and he noticed how wet she was getting.

"Wait, if my ankles are locked together tight like this, I gotta get these off first," she whispered.

She slipped her ankles and feet out of the cuffs for a second, leaned in, and kissed him hard while she wiggled her hips, sliding her thong down her legs until it dropped to the floor.

"Ready," she purred.

She sat back down, propping her heels on his lap. He placed the open rings on her ankles, then ran a hand down her leg and slowly he brought the top part down to meet the bottom half of cuff slowly, carefully, until the Irish 8 cuffs clicked the shut around her ankles with a loud snap. Fused side by side, she could barely move her legs, and the feeling pushed her right to the edge.

He ran his hands up her calves and thighs, sliding two fingers deep inside her wet heat. She gasped, kissing him back as the pleasure hit her hard.

"What about these?" she asked, holding up her hands.

He grabbed another pair of custom Irish 8s. She spun around, putting her arms behind her back. he adjusted her until her wrists were aligned and forearms stacked horizontally. He slid the cuffs over her wrists, the cuff holes barely larger than her wrists, and making sure not to pinch her skin, he pushed them together--SNAP!

Her arms were locked tight behind her back, her wrists welded together by cuffs in an unmovable stack. For the next few minutes, he worshiped her body, kissing her neck, rubbing her all over while she writhed against her bounds, getting more turned on by the second.

Soon, he laid her flat on her back with her wrists pinned beneath her, her legs still locked together. He went straight to her core, using his tongue and then rubbing his fingers on her clit while kissing her until she was in heaven.

Then he stood up, stripped off his clothes. But with her ankles and legs welded together, he had to figure out how to get his hard member into her waiting sex. He rolled her onto her side, and while spooning her, her legs bent and her sex wet and exposed, he shoved his stiff manhood deep inside her wet heat from behind. She cried out as he entered her, then they moved together, soon her hitting a massive climax, then another a few minutes later she did again, right before he came his warm seed hard inside her for several seconds, she experienced the best orgasm of her life.

He pulled out, rolled her on her back, and they just lay there kissing, touching, and catching their breath.

"Damn, babe," he whispered, tracing a finger down her collarbone. "You feel unbelievable. The steel is so tight on you... I could not stop cumming in you!'

"You're telling me," she sighed happily, wiggling against her heavy restraints. "My legs are completely toast. You totally wrecked me in the best way possible. The cuffs amplified the whole experience!"

"That's the whole point, right?" he laughed softly, kissing her cheek. "How are you holding up back there with those cuffs?"

"Oh, I'm stuck good," she smiled, turning her head to look at him. "Seriously, I can't even twitch. Feels so crazy just lying here totally at your mercy."

"Good. You look gorgeous like this," he murmured, running his hand over her hip. "Like my own little trapped sex slave. Those irish 8s are serious bondage steel, even if you had key in your hand and I left you alone, you could never escape by yourself."

"So, you gonna let me go now, or am I your sex slave forever?" she asked, flashing a playful, teasing grin.

"Man, I am loving having you totally helpless," he admitted, his eyes gleaming. "I could get used to this real quick."

"Me too," she breathed, her voice dropping lower. "I can't move a single thing. You could do whatever you want to me right now and I couldn't stop you."

"Don't tempt me, woman," he chuckled, leaning over to kiss her again.

"So what do the other pair of irish 8s fit?' she asked. "My wrists and ankles" he said. "Really?" she asked. "Maybe you should put them on now, we can be stuck here together," she bit her lip, considering the possibilities. He considered it for a moment....

"We can do me next time, " he promised.

He rolled away slightly to reach down and grab the small canvas bag of keys from the bed. Unzipping it, he started rummaging around inside, his fingers sifting through the rings while they kept talking.

"So are we ordering takeout tonight, or are you too whipped to drive?" she asked, stretching lazily against the mattress.

"I could definitely eat," he muttered, his fingers digging deeper into the pouch. "Thinking maybe pizza or Thai down the street."

"Thai sounds amazing. Make sure you get those spring rolls--" She paused, noticing his expression shift. His brow furrowed tight as he kept moving keys around, his fingers searching with a sudden, frantic urgency. "What's the matter? Find a spider in there or something?"

"Hold on a second," he mumbled, shaking the pouch.

With a frustrated sigh, he dumped the key bag and then the whole duffle bag right out onto the bed, sending a massive pile of keys, chains, and hardware clattering everywhere across the sheets.

"Ah, hell no," he cursed, staring down at the mess.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her heart doing a sudden flip in her chest.

"I was rushing so damn hard to get here... I forgot the Irish 8 keys!"

She stared at him, letting the heavy reality of his words sink right into her skin. "You're kidding me. You don't have the keys?"

"Nah, they're sitting right on my kitchen counter!" he groaned, shoving his hands through his hair as he stared at the chaotic pile of stray metal. "And I forgot the big chain padlock keys too... thank god we didn't use those."

Silence filled the room, heavy and tense.

"No one might have a key for these somewhere local?". "No way" he says. "These are irish 8 cuffs, somewhat rare!"

"I gotta run back and get 'em," he finally announced, looking down at her.

Her mind went into overdrive. "What about me?'

"Well... you can just wait here," he offered hesitantly.

"By myself, like this?" she cried, a wave of real panic hitting her adrenaline, but something else building up below, thrill. "It's a whole hour each way! What if someone breaks in? What if they've got a key? You know how my ex used to hand out apartment keys to everybody!"

"They could come in. They could take me. I can't even move!"

"You want to come with me?" he asked.

"I can't even sit up in the car!"

"I could throw you in the trunk of the car," he joked, half-serious.

"And get pulled over by a cop? He finds me chained and cuffed in your trunk? We'd both end up in a cell!"

"So what do you want to do?" he asked, looking stressed out.

Her mind raced. She was terrified, but also incredibly turned on, being trapped alone and unable to escape, that dark fantasy was pulling at her hard, a thought appeared in her mind.

"Hey... maybe you can chain my neck to the bed?" she whispered, looking right into his eyes. "If I'm chained to the bedpost, nobody can kidnap me or take me anywhere..."

The crazy risk of it mixed with her deepest desire, pushing her right over the edge of excitement, even surprising her...

He looked at her, knowing it was an irrational fear, totally nuts, but realizing this must be a dark fantasy of hers and he would be giving her what she secretly craved. He grabbed a heavy steel chain and two brass padlocks, wrapping one end around the thick bedpost and snapping a padlock shut. Then he brought the chain over, wrapped it tight around her neck above her steel collar, and brought the links together in front of her throat.

He lined up the second padlock and looped the open shackle through the links. He rotated the lock body to line up with waiting shackle. "You certain about this? I don't have the keys for this lock either. You can still come with me in the car, but once I snap this, you're locked here by yourself for two whole hours."

She closed her eyes, smelling the cold steel against her skin, the thought of being helpless and chained for hours, and feeling the growing wetness of her sex, she nodded.

"Do it," she whispered.

He pushed the shackle home. SNAP.

The lock clicked shut. He leaned down, kissing her deeply while his fingers slipped down to stroke her soaked pussy. She moaned in protest as he stood and pulled his fingers out....

"I'll be right back to rescue you" he promised, turning around and walking out the door, leaving her chained up tight in the empty house, helpless.