Bike Ride

Breathing deep. I've been preparing for this, but I'm nervous.

Today is the Tour-de-Fat. I've decided that I'm going to engage in some long-term public bondage and see how well I can blend into the insanity.

The route for the Tour rides past my house. I'm intending on joining the fray and riding roughly eight blocks with the tour and then continuing on another eight blocks when the tour turns. At the end of those eight blocks I will turn onto the Poudre trail and ride about 10 miles along the river down to my office. I've hidden the only set of keys to my restraints in the landscaping beside my office.

If I can make it through the Tour, through town and then down the trail, my car and a change of clothing are waiting for me in the parking lot.

I'm counting on my bondage and the fact that I'm new to town to help keep my anonymity. I want to experience this public exhibition, but I don't want to be recognized today.

Here in front of me are the regalia for my day. I have a lockable ball-gag with a double leather strap, a full-coverage gas-mask that I have modified to also lock, a leather posture collar, handcuffs, an anal-lock cock-ring secured to the saddle of my bike, a penis plug/shunt and my CB6000, a chastity cage. Along with the gear I have five padlocks, though I don't have their keys. The keys are waiting for me across town.

Two locks will secure the gag, two locks will secure the mask and the fifth lock will lock the CB6000 closed and to my bike, this by manner of a short chain brazed to the top-tube. The handcuffs similarly are to be secured to the handlebar stem. Once I am on my bike and secured, I am on for the duration. In addition my penis plug is designed to hold my urethra open, making it all but impossible for me to hold it should I have the need to urinate.

I'm pointing this out, as I have just finished drinking 64oz. of green tea. That being the final phase of my preparation. Last night I left my car and the change of clothes at work, and hid the keys in the landscaping before riding my bike home. This morning I shaved my cock and balls, leaving me smooth and hair-free. I have tied my long hair up so as not to interfere with or hide the restraints. The tea was the last thing before locking myself out of my house.

Well, now we are down to it. I shed my robe. I have twenty minutes to get myself pulled together before the main body of the tour arrives.

First is the penis plug. Slight sting as it spreads my urethra, but simple enough. Next is a combo move. The CB6000 cock cage has a ring that goes around my shaft and under my balls. Before I put on the hood of the cage I need to put on the cock-ring portion of the anal lock. I swing my leg over the top-tube of my bike and step back up on the blocks I have to help me get over the seat and onto the anal plug. I stretch the thick latex cock-ring portion of the anal plug over my thickening cock and balls, in front of the already tight and constricting base of the CB6000. With these two cock-rings on I can feel my desire rising. I need to get the cage secure before I get to full erection or I won't be able to get ready in time for the Tour.

I get the head down into the cage and the cage in place as my cock begins to swell, pushing out, trying to thicken. But the cage holds, the erection can't rise.

I'm standing here with my cycling shoes and a chastity cage on. I have butterflies in my stomach. I'm not even out in public yet; I'm anxious and aroused.

Next up will be the anal plug portion of the anal-lock cock-ring. I can't afford lubricant allowing the plug to slide out while I am riding so I have to just relax and use my body's natural lubricant and gravity to get the plug in. I lean forward, splay my legs, sway my back and try to relax my sphincter. I reach one hand under and grasp the plug by its base. With this I guide it to my anus, setting just the tip against my puckered hole. With my other hand I reach back and help spread my cheeks to allow the plug better access. As I press I involuntarily clench. A couple deep breaths and I will my sphincter to relax a little, just enough for the tip of the plug to push inside. At this point it's all brute force, sweat and a little bit of profanity. I push. I wriggle. I twist. And the plug moves slowly inside, spreading my ass, filling me and just for the fun of it pulling on my cock and balls. Three-and-a-half minutes later, the plug is place, pulling across my perineum and buried deep in my ass.

My cock is still straining at the CB6000. I can already feel an ache in my balls, wanting to cum.

I've got a little less than ten minutes to finish gearing up. With this in mind I grab the posture collar. This collar is thick, heavy leather with steel embeds in the top and bottom. It has four stout strap buckles on the backside and sits just shy of eight inches tall. It is not tight to the point of constricting breathing, but I cannot move around once it is in place. I lift my chin, and lay the cool leather against my throat. The buckles jingle a little as I smooth the collar around my neck. I feel all thumbs as I start to buckle the collar to me. Usually I have help in such an endeavor, but I wanted to keep this experience wholly my own.

I can't easily look down now, but I can feel my cock pushing at the cage and trying in vain to rise. My balls are aching, pulled up taunt against their fetters. The last buckle pulls-to pushing my chin high and forcing me to relax and lower my shoulders.

I'm down to about four minutes, if I want to catch the mass of the Tour.

I've still got to get the gag on and locked as well as the gas-mask. Once those are one I'll lock my chastity cage to the frame and then finally secure the handcuffs to the stem. I'll just make it if I scurry.

I'm trying to push my limits today. And thinking of that I raise a liter of water to my lips wondering how long I can hold this and the tea. Tilting my head back the little I can I gulp the water as quickly as I can. Each swallow constricts against the collar and threatens to not go down.

In my hurry I sputter on the last mouthful and cold water cascades down my chest, dripping from my nipple rings and running in a rivulet over my stomach. I can feel as it runs into and over and around my cock rings and cage and then finally washing over my inner thighs.

I don't really have time to think about and savor the path the water takes, I need to finish getting in gear.

I lick my lips and open my mouth to take the ball gag. The gag paired with the collar is really working my jaw. From the gag I pull the lower strap down along my jawline and behind my head, just above the top of the collar. I quickly secure the strap and reach for the first of the locks. This is the true moment of no return. Once the lock closes my only release is across town. *Click* My heart flutters. I pull the second strap up, across my cheeks and temples to secure over the crown of my head. I pick up my second lock. *Click*

I'm now almost unable to look forward, with the posture collar and the ball gag I am forced to look a little upward. Once on the road I don't see this as a real issue as I will need to be looking forward. I might have thought to get a little smaller gag. The one I have is over two inches in diameter. While not the largest thing anyone has ever crammed in my mouth, the ball is already causing my jaw to ache. It's like the feeling you get from deep-throating a thick cock.

It is time for the last bit of gear. I can hear the cheering for the Tour down the block. I place the gas-mask over my face. The world is reduced to the slightly fisheyed distorted frames of vision that the mask offers. Again the straps. First the top strap, pulling from my forehead to the middle of the back of my head. *Click* and then from below my ears to low on the back of my head, just above the gag lock and the top of the collar. *Click*

The gas-mask is a newer model. It is made of heavy rubber, the smell of which fills my nose, and sports two filters, one to either side of a slightly elongated snout. It is black and pretty much what you think a gas-mask looks like. With the bottom strap locked I cannot remove the mask, no matter how I pull or twist.

I look down my drive toward the street in front of my house. The first riders are passing. I can hear cheering from both the riders and the people standing along the route. The butterflies in my stomach have become a full on stampede of bison. I'm terrified. It's at this moment that my bladder lets go and I feel a stream of urine course out of my shunted urethra, spraying out of the chastity cage and running down my thighs. It is hot and does nothing to ease my fear.

Knowing I have no recourse I settle back on my saddle. The anal plug pushes deeper into me, spreading my ass and pulling on my cock and balls. I stand back up sharply. I wasn't ready for that. I was already so full and stretched from the plug I didn't expect the saddle to stretch me further.

Standing over the top tube I grasp the chain to secure my chastity cage. It pulls up on each side of me and... it's too short?!? Then I realize I made measurements for when I was sitting astride the saddle. I step off the blocks and lift myself back up over my saddle. Again the saddle pushes the anal plug deeper in to me, spreading my anus wider and pressing more fully on my prostate.

Trying to breathe deep into the sensations I am experiencing I again raise the chain. This time it comes just to the point of connection. I pick up the last lock and without being able to see myself run it through first one chain, then the lock ring on the chastity cage and finally the second chain. *Click* The lock thunks down against the acrylic of the CB6000. I am now completely committed. I can hid in the garage, but I can't get off the bike. I look longingly at my robe, laying on the table next to the handcuffs.

I reach out and take the cuffs, quickly securing them to the bike. I latch first my left and then struggle to get my right locked in. And I am in.

I look down the drive again. There are the crowd of riders I have been expecting. Foot on peddle and I'm on my way to join the fray.

I can hear my heart pounding in my chest as I coast down the drive. My breathing is also a thundering noise inside the mask.

At first no one notices me. I'm another cyclist. There had been at least one "Naked Cyclist" already today. But this doesn't last long. There are gasps and declarations all around as the crowd of riders and the crowd of spectators recognize what I am.

I have pulled into the pack. There is a little bubble around me as if everyone is too shocked or scared to get any closer to me. We are moving at a snail's pace. I have to constantly put one foot to the ground to stay up, each time pushing the plug hard. I can't stand up proper on my peddles to do a track stand due to the chain.

A Raggedy Annie rides up on my left, followed by a Raggedy Andy on my right. "Who are you?" she asks. I look at her, but am unable to answer. "Hey, aren't you going to answer the lady?" he says. I swivel to look at him, mumbling a muffled, "MMFFFMMPHHH." The pack is again moving. I peddle a few feet and then...*SMACK* Raggedy Andy has swatted my ass, and hard. I look over at him. His face is a devilish grin. He laughs and I can hear Annie laughing too. They put foot to pedal passing me and moving on to more responsive sport. I see a mother cover her teenage daughter's eyes on the curb as I pass.

At the rate we are moving we will be across downtown in about 30 minutes. It's actually quite a bit longer than I expected to be in the Tour and then I will have to fare out into the other side of downtown where the Tour freaks won't be around to offer protection.

My body is taking in so much sensory input from everywhere, I swear I could have an orgasm at any minute. The anal plug is working away at my prostate, pushing back and forth as I pedal. I can feel the chains tugging at my chastity cage and balls constantly as I pedal. Every few people that I pass, unlike the Raggedies have taken to petting me. One Geisha reaches over and tugs on my left nipple ring. Ahead a group of sorority girls are all dressed as cheerleaders, but they are wearing the cheer outfits that fit them in roughly 7th grade. Bosom and backsides are busting out all over the place. My cock is bravely trying to show its appreciation, swelling against its confines and dribbling copious amounts of precum all over. Even with my limited field of vision I can see the glistening strands of precum between the cage and the top tube and then streaming away from the bike. If I didn't know better I would suggest that my testicles were now the size of watermelons.

What really does me in, and if it weren't for the chastity cage I am sure I would have just started cumming all over the place and fallen over, are the two cat girls I roll up to next. They have skin tight fur suits on. They have tails. They have ears. They look like they just crawled out of a manga. I can't say a word to note my appreciation, but the grey one runs her claws down my back and onto my ass anyway.

I think I'm in love. If only I knew how to find her when this is all over.

The Tour continues keeping a slow pace. Those around me shift forward or back. The level of shock is a variable thing, depending deeply on how much the viewers have had to drink. I'm actually relaxing into the moment pretty well. My only panic comes as a group of fraternity boys, dressed as cave men, come pushing by. One of them looks over recognizing how constrained I am. I only notice once he rides in to my space. He reaches over and grabs hold of my chastity cage. With my hands cuffed and the chains holding me to the seat I can't even throw an elbow. He looks at me and laughs and then pushes against my cage, in essence pushing me over. I slam on my brake and put a foot down to keep from going over. He keeps his grip on the cage as he rolls forward from me pulling hard on me. The cage is secure to the bike but it still pulls against the ring, pulling on my balls and torquing my cock. I think he is going to succeed in pulling me over yet.

His grip slides off the sweaty acrylic before I topple though. He leaves me standing in the middle of the street with the Tour streaming around me. I'm shaking and my heart is pounding. I can hear the bloodrush in my ears. I close my eyes.

*SMACK* A pack of crayolas is passing me. The red one just smacked my ass, as she passed.

I need to get moving. I'm about a hundred yards from where the Tour turns back north. When the tour turns, my eight blocks will be up and I will cut out of the pack heading on my own way. Once I turn off I should be able to pick up a bit of speed. I had only intended to be out for about an hour. With the slow pace of the pack I have already been out on the street for forty-five minutes. I still have the rest of downtown to cover without the rest of the Tour de Fat to keep me hidden. Past that is another ten miles to the office. Should be another forty-five minutes.

The crowd has slowed again. I'm catching up with the manga-cats. I guess I get another pass at making an impression.

The pack is at a complete standstill. I roll up next to the Grey Catgirl. "Look who followed us!?!" Grey says to the Tabby as I roll up and stop in the crowd. There aren't many bystanders at this point of the route, for which I am glad.

"You are always picking up strays aren't you?" the Tabby reply. "He's rather quiet, don't you think."

"Hmmm... are you following us?" asks Grey, to which I nod to the limited degree I can. "Can you speak?" I shake my head. She seems to consider this. Leaning back she inspects the tracks she scraped down my back earlier. "Glad to see you kept these... though I have to say I'm a bit disappointed to see that someone has been abusing you. Just look at these handprints on his ass. They're still hot." She slides her hand down my back, again scratching along, coming to rest cupping my cheek.

"Is someone mistreating you?" ask Tabby. I don't think I remember to shake as I'm craned to the left, watching Grey. She has been looking down at my body, scanning the chastity cage and my nipple rings. Lifting her head she looks at me focusing on my eyes through the gas mask. "Someone needs to take care of you. It's not good for you to be out on your own." While saying this, her hand has slid around my ass cheek and is gently probing and exploring my undercarriage. Her fingers slide between me and my saddle pushing here and playfully scratching there. And then she finds the base of the plug.

Her eyes flick away from mine towards my hips. When they shift back to my face there is something like a resolve under her whiskers and feline features. As her fingers continue to explore the dimensions of the plug, running along my sphincter, she says to Tabby, "We need to take this one home with us, he has a lot of promise but seems to need some firm direction." She slides a finger up into me, behind the plug. I jerk a little. If I could have I would have gasped.

"Hand me that leash." Grey directed Tabby.

"I thought that was for later?" Tabby replied with what could have been a hint of a whine.

"Don't worry dear. There is plenty of time for that later, but we need to make sure he doesn't get lost." She now has two fingers in me, working the plug around. The chastity cage is cutting against my cock as it swells from her attention.

Tabby hands Grey a stout leather leash. Grey reaches up with her free hand and secures the leash to my posture collar. And suddenly things have gone a completely different direction than all my planning had prepared. Grey pulls the leash and I am forced to lean towards her. She pulls me until I have leaned as close to her as I can get with the gas mask on. "We are going to take care of you. Don't struggle or try to get away. You might get hurt and none of us want that." To accentuate this final thought Grey presses up harder into my ass spreading me and pushing the plug against my already enflamed prostate.

My knees go wabbly, my eyes cross and lose focus. I'm bucking against Grey's hand, against my bike, against my fetters. And then I'm coming. It feels like a gallon or more, but I can't see. I'm on my toes and my legs are locked up. I'm holding the rearwheel off the ground. Finally it passes and I'm left trembling. Grey pulls on my plug to get my attention.

"Now, follow along. The lines starting to move and we don't want to get left behind." She pulls her fingers, indelicately, from me. Then she secures the leash to her handle bars, giving only enough slack for me to ride beside her, carefully.

Tabby asks, "Do you think he's got that in him on a regular basis?"

"That's not really your concern is it?" quips Grey.

And with that Tabby moves off forward, followed by Grey and myself.

We complete the remaining twenty yards to my intended turn-off. As we make the turn north I look forlornely towards the empty street heading east and further towards my keys and car and clothes. I'm a little helpless and truth-be-told scared of the turn this morning has taken.

"My friend spoke truly when she said I'm always taking in strays. When ever I find a dog or cat on the street I take them home. We've got quite the animal shelter at the farm."

I'm left for wonder about "the farm" and my own predicament as we pedal on in silence for awhile.

The silence is surrounded by cheering and jeering of the bystanders. We are again moving into a populated area. Again I can hear the gasps and comments aimed my way. Somehow they are lessened by the leash. When the cast of the Simpsons catches up to us, Marge takes a particularly nasty slap at my ass. Grey moves us a safe distance from Marge and then verbally berates her for taking advantage of me.