Tell Me a Secret
Sam sat in the thick, palpable darkness of his flat. There on the table he could just make out the haunting outlines of a small object, its smooth curves, and the small lock at the base; this was source of his guilt. He traced it with the tips of his fingers, touching the metal as if it were gold.
It should be returned, he thought, as he dipped his fingers inside, trying to suppress the shudder when he imagined the device locked around him. It was a piece of evidence, he reasoned, unlocking it, savoring the soft click that echoed through his flat. They might need it in court.
Sam stood up.
Then again they had confiscated an entire room full of evidence- whips, cuffs, rope, bondage devices, pornography, and loads of leather-CID didn't really need this. No one had to know that it was gone. No one had to know where it was now.
Taking a deep breath he unbuttoned his trousers, letting them slide to the floor along with his shorts. The darkness molded around Sam's nakedness and graced his eyes with blindness so he couldn't see his own hand stroking the soft pink skin between his shaking thighs. The darkness didn't want to know that Sam had stolen a chastity belt from the collection of Mistress Millie during a raid earlier that day, nor did it care when he shuddered with delight at the touch of those cold metal braces sliding over his cock and capturing his balls in its metal pouch.
No one had to know but Sam would always feel himself inside. He would feel the weight of the metal around his cock, clutching and constricting him, as a constant reminder of his pleasure and his shame.
It was a secret that no one else but Sam and the nebulous of his flat would ever have to know.