You wake up with an unfamiliar sensation surrounding your dick. Your initial thought is to ignore it. It's probably just Jason being weird again. Until something fastens behind your balls and everything gets just a little too tight.
You look down just in time to see Jason pull away from the bed and nod proudly at his handiwork.
"What the fuck?" You gesture at your junk and look at him. He's got this shit-eating grin on his face and you know exactly "what the fuck". It's a god damn chastity device. Literally a barred cage for your cock.
"Can't have you poppin' boners in front a' the Sunday crowd at Wal-Mart, can we?" You swallow at that. You've been hinting at your interest in doing shit in public for weeks. You sigh and sit up when you feel something move inside of you and brush your prostate. Jason smirks when you gasp and answers your question before you have time to even ask it.
"I'm kinda surprised you didn't wake up when that went in. I guess you were just super worn out from last night.." He digs something out of his pocket and shows it to you. It looks like a small pink mp3 player, which confirms that it's the deliciously ironic pink bullet that's inside you.
Holy shit, this is gonna suck.
But holy shit, is it gonna be awesome.
Jason tells you to get ready to go and leaves the room. So you carefully maneuver yourself out of bed and slip on some boxers and a shirt, looking around for pants. Your eyes catch on your skinny jeans. Then they look to your dick. Yeah, that's not happening. Baggy cargo shorts it is then. Walking to your dresser is a little(a lot) weird, but not awful. The shorts hide the bulge well enough so you find your shades and wobble out of your room. Jason flat out laughs when he sees you awkwardly limp-shuffle into the kitchen.
"Shut up, man, these are not the primest of conditions to run a marathon in." You point at him and he puts his hands up in defense.
"No judgment. You ready?" Honestly? You guess you'll just have to find out.
"Yeah." You breath out.
He fucking plays with the vibe's remote the whole. Way. There. You're already hard by the time you get in the car, but he has you choking on moans and clawing into the arm rest for dear life about 5 minutes in. It's so constricting and, God, it's the strangest sort of pain but you can't say for the life of you that it's unpleasant.
The truck pulls into a parking space and you're too blissed out to notice that the engine and the vibe have been shut off and that your door is open, Jason waiting for you.
"Come on, kid, we haven't even gone in yet." He snorts and shakes your shoulder, snapping you out of it a bit.
"Yeah, yeah. You'll be rolling me out in the cart if I don't just happen to drop dead in the frozen foods isle."
"You'll be fiiiiine." He insists, helping you out of the car.
Thank God he parked so close to the store because the walk to the entrance is the most awkward shit you've felt in your life. Not to mention you're still hard and it hurts. Like a lot. At the same time, though, it's kind of really hot? It's just your guys' dirty little secret. Your eyes flick to the pink remote in Jason's hand and it makes you shudder to think about the kind of power he holds over you right now.
The two of you share a look, you nod, and you both walk in.
Turns out he actually Jasonught a grocery list. You don't know why you didn't think he would, but it's there, and man…is it fucking long. You can see him smirk out of the corner of your eye and the sudden buzz of the vibe catches you off guard. It's only the lowest setting, but you still have to cough to avoid choking on your own spit in surprise. It's not too bad, you guess, you're certainly nowhere near your limit.
You carry on through the store, collecting milk, bread, frozen pizzas…and you swear to God Jason is doing anything to draw this out. The fucker is actually reading the nutritional values on this shit and all you can do is quietly worry at your lip and fuck with the hem of your shirt.
When you get about a third of the way down the grocery list, he turns up the speed. You have to crush your teeth together to stop the noises jumping in your throat and pretty soon, your knees start to shake. At one point, you actually whimper and Jason looks at you from over his shades. And really at this point, the pain of your cock straining against the bars is just adding to that wonderful heat in your gut. Not quite enough to bring you to the edge, but damn if it's not intense.
You keep going. Body wash, shampoo, mouthwash. You're starting to realize that you have half of this stuff at home already and the other half you don't even use. Fuck. You peek over at the list and see that you're about another third of the way down the list. You wait for the intensity to double but it doesn't. Jason's not even holding the remote.
So you move on through the list. At some point, Jason's hand goes into his jacket pocket and you can see him fumbling with the remote, intentionally putting you on edge. You can feel your jaw shake with the force it takes to be quite.
You're sure you look like quite the hot mess right now, and you've gotten a few strange looks but you just do your suddenly patented limp-shuffle past them and keep your eyes on Jason's back. You follow Jason to the next isle, which is dauntingly empty. He's checking out a bag of chips when the bullet roars to it's highest setting. You quickly slap a hand over your mouth to cut off a load moan and drop to your knees.
Jason stares at you as you pant and roll your hips, trying to find some kind of friction.
Turns out you don't need any because you're currently cumming in your shorts on the gross floor of mother fucking Wal-Mart. And wow does it feel great. You've been under Jason's button happy fingers all day and it's all just pouring out of you. It seems to go on forever but the over stimulation creeps in and you can hear yourself openly whining. Jason mercifully shuts off the bullet and you can feel him rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head before hauling you up by your armpits.
He takes off his jacket and ties it around your hips, the arms of it cleverly hiding the obvious wet spot in the front of your shorts. He wraps what would appear to be a brotherly arm around your shoulders and fucking leaves the cart in the isle. You laugh and lean on him as he walks you out to the truck.
He owes you so many favors for making you come on the floor of Wal-Mart. But damn, it was worth it.