Upholding a Family Custom into Adulthood

I grew up in a deeply conservative household. We kids were homeschooled, and we had no TV at home or trips to the cinema. Whenever our parents took us shopping, one of them was always with us. Even during hot spells, we kept most of our skin covered. It was my 16th birthday. My dad was away on work (I never really understood what his job entailed). My mom and two elder sisters escorted me outside and positioned me facing the flagpole. The girls pulled my arms behind my back while Mom secured them with handcuffs against the pole. “Since your father isn’t here, I have to uphold our 16th birthday custom,” she said. She unbuckled my belt and let my trousers and briefs fall down. My sisters used clothesline to tie each ankle, pulling them taut toward nearby trees. It felt mortifying standing there bare before my siblings! Mom retrieved a metal device from a fabric pouch, showed it to me, and explained that I would be secured just as they were at 16. She mentioned the devices come in different sizes for growing up, started with the smallest one around my private parts. It fit tightly but didn’t cut off circulation. The cager covered my penis, attached to the ring, and was locked. Aside from getting a slightly bigger version each year on my birthday, I have remained secured ever since. She noted that within our religious circle, I (along with my sisters) are part of the majority practicing enforced chastity. I wasn’t sure if this was accurate. With so many boys secured, there is one woman in town who makes a living offering prostate massages. She always wears a mask, keeping her identity unknown to us. When each sister married, Dad handed their belt keys over to their new husbands. Now that I am engaged, the same rule applies to me. My fiancée already knows about my steel penis; she felt it one night when she was in a playful mood. But then she admitted that she is also belted, so there will be no intercourse until our wedding and the swapping of both sets of keys.