Chastity is starting to cause me great anxiety, it's been three days without touching myself and for me, who is used to at least two jerks off a day, I'm starting to get anxious.

The idea of submitting to the band's drummer turns me on even more. He's only two years younger than me but has a twink look and is physically weaker than me... and the idea of seeing my Master being submitted to another Master also drives me crazy with arousal.

Today we took a plane to Uruguay. In the morning, Lucas and Martín made Octavio and me dress without wearing underwear and forced us to carry their suitcases through the airport.

And I mean carry because even though they have wheels, we were forbidden to use them. Going through the metal detector with a chastity device always makes me fearful, I look at the airport security officers with anxiety silently begging for the detector not to go off when I pass through it.

The anxiety increases when some people recognize us at the airport and ask for photos, I have checked myself in the mirror many times to make sure the cage is not visible through my pants, and even though I don't see anything, I'm afraid that there might be a trace in some photo.

Once seated in first class, I feel calm. Miguel takes the seat next to me, as soon as the seatbelt sign turns off, Martín appears in our place and subtly orders Miguel to switch seats.

Martín makes me run to the window seat and sits in the aisle. He puts a sweater on my lap that he carried all the way - "open your pants and take out your caged thing," he says in my ear laughing. I laugh to disguise it, on the other side of the aisle are Lucas and Octavio so no one sees when I open my pants and let my caged dick come out under the sweater.

Martín crosses his arms and puts his left hand under the sweater, with the palm of his hand he gives me soft hits on the genitals, I look out the window to hide my gestures of pain and clench my teeth to not scream.

He stops and takes out his hand, then puts it back in and repeats the torture, I make unconscious small jumps and then make efforts not to move, if I close my legs he hits me harder.

We are served by a tall flight attendant, with a buzzed head and a husky voice. He walks very upright with his very hairy uncovered forearms and his well-sculpted buttocks through his pants.

He recognizes us and greets us friendly, asks us for a photo, his name is Ramón, he has a very deep voice, almost cavernous, Martín asks for orange juice and I ask for a diet soda.

When the flight attendant leaves, Martín takes the ice from his orange juice and walks it over my balls, I breathe heavily, nervously, feeling the cold strongly but the nervousness of leaving the seat wet gives me more anguish.

Martín adjusts himself to keep the ice on my balls for a long time, at times he walks it over my glans and the cage gets cold and wet. When the ic...