[As promised, my excellent submissive correspondent just sent me the second part of his most recent long session with his Master, which is hot, hot, hot, though, as I said last time, such a situation should never be imitated. That said, there's no denying that the story does make great reading. BW]
I awoke after what seemed like quite a long time had passed. My guess is that I must have slept for at least 3 hours. I wouldn't call it blissful sleep, exactly. It was more like a fitful, restless half slumber, all the while fully realizing it was impossible to move, unlike normal sleep. I guess I just needed the time out, after all that had been done to me since I arrived at my Master's house. First of all, I wasn't expecting to be tied standing up and have my butt whipped, nipples clamped with clothespins and mercilessly worked over, with the dreaded CB put on me, all while gagged and handcuffed. All of this was done to extract information from me, about my behavior and disobedience within the last 5 weeks. I basically endured a mini torture session just to get to this phase of my bondage session.
The house was still absolutely quiet, I could not hear any sounds whatsoever. Upon waking I had tested all my bonds, and was surprised that I actually managed to sleep at all, given how tightly He had tied me up. I moved my ankles from side to side and wiggled my toes under the blanket. The slight movement of my ankles made them feel better. I do love the feeling of leather cuffs locked tightly around my ankles, so I was not disappointed there. Rotating my ankles relieved the tingling sensation I had felt upon awakening. The bottoms of my feet still hurt somewhat from being hit with the riding crop.
My cock and balls were another matter. The cage trapped my dick securely, I could feel the tip of my penis against the slit of the cock cage. The snug cuff ring around my balls no doubt helped to keep me in a state of near constant erection. That plus the need to urinate. Although I needed to pee I decided to postpone it as long as I could possibly hold out, as I hated the feeling of a sopping wet diaper and it was still early in the day. If I relieved myself into the diapers now it would make me more uncomfortable.
I tried to forget about peeing and instead tried moving my arms within the straitjacket. It was as if the upper part of my body had been fused together as one piece. There was no possibility of any movement there whatsoever; not only had He strapped my arms as tight as He could buckle the sleeves behind my back, He had chained my arms together and locked the chains with a padlock. The leather crotch straps of the straitjacket wound their way between my legs, trapping my cock and balls further within the confines of the CB3000 and were buckled up behind me leaving no slack whatsoever. The collar around my neck was really snug, and the chain leading from it to the headboard was very taut. I was alright as long as I didn't make any sudden moves. I moved my head and neck slowly on the pillow and was able to detect the edges of the pillow. He had provided me with a very small pillow indeed, no doubt to keep me from moving my head much, not that I could anyway, chained as I was.
The leather hood was having its desired effect on me. My world now consisted of complete and utter blackness. I was beginning to lose the sense of time. The laces were tightly crisscrossed at the back of my head, catching some of my hair, probably done on purpose to add to my discomfort. The hood felt like a second skin enveloping my head and now I really wanted it to be taken off. The rubber penis gag was forced deep into my mouth, even more so due to the hood being so tightly laced. I told myself I had no choice but to toughen up my resolve, I wasn't going to crack under the restraints. I wanted my Master to continue to have to work hard getting me to tow the line, for I could be extremely stubborn when I wanted to be. Perhaps most of his other submissives would not dare disobey him due to the expected and perfectly reasonable dire consequences. I long ago realized I just wasn't one of them. I was in a rebellious mood, considering the predicament I was in.
I lay back and tried to relax and stretched my legs. I felt my balls being squeezed more by the leather straps of the straitjacket crossing over the diapers. My need to pee was becoming stronger. I figured it must be near noon. My stomach was feeling empty already and I now had another problem, my jaw was starting to ache. Perhaps another hour passed before I could stand it no longer, I just had to take a piss. I decided to let go and I felt a trickle at my balls. It seemed as if my cock had a mind of its own, as it then stopped. My cock was sore from the confines of the cage and I was still fighting an attempted erection. Damn, I couldn't begin to pee more than a drop or two at a time. A few painful moments passed before the trickle started again. Then the trickle became a steady flow and I happily pissed into my diapers.
It felt so fucking good just to empty my bladder. Of course the down side of peeing was that I would now have to stay in a wet diaper, until it slowly began to dry on its own. Time passed slowly and I was becoming very hungry. The gag filled my mouth completely and I wished it could be removed, even if only for a short while.
I just lay there accepting my fate and still enjoying my restrictive bondage, when I heard someone coming up the stairs. I froze in my restraints. Who was that? It was probably just the mailman or someone delivering junk mail. Next thing I heard was the front door opening. I lay perfectly still, not wanting to make a sound in case it was one of His roommates. I heard a key being inserted into the deadbolt lock and someone came into the bedroom. My heart was racing and I was scared, who the fuck was this in the room with me?
The person closed the bedroom door and relocked it. I could tell immediately by the footsteps that it was definitely NOT my Master. He walked slowly around the bed, without saying a word to me. I couldn't see a thing, being hooded and blindfolded, so this made me more than a little nervous. The person just stood there silently, obviously enjoying the sight of another male, completely bound, straitjacketed and hooded.
The blanket was ripped off me in one quick motion and a hand touch my left leg at the thigh and run slowly down my leg to my bound foot. The person walked around the bed and started on my right foot and ran his hand slowly up my leg to the top of my other thigh. Still not a word had been spoken, and I was like a statue, albeit a horizontal one. The hand crossed in front of my diapers stopping at my bound genitals. Then I heard a voice greet me by name. It was young and masculine, and I did not recognize it at all. I thought my heart was going to jump right through my chest. Who the fuck was this? And, more importantly, what the hell was he doing here?
He told me his name was David. Who the fuck was David? My mind was racing and I became acutely aware of my extreme vulnerability. He must have sensed what was going on in my leather-covered head, and told me not to worry, he had been sent by our Master. My mind worked overtime trying to figure out whether I knew this stranger in the room with me. Then he sat down on the bed and put his hand on my cock and balls again, feeling the outline of the CB3000. He slowly rubbed his hand over my bound genitals and began to squeeze my balls until I cried out through the gag. He then forced my arms apart ever so slightly, as any movement was next to non existent. He found my nipples and began to squeeze them, hard. I yelped and he continued squeezing without releasing his grip. I started thrashing around on the bed and was afraid of what was to come as I had a distinct feeling that this was going to be a rough visit. Finally he stopped squeezing my nipples and I let out a mmmpphuff sound. He told me that he had received a visit this morning from our Master. I was still searching my clouded mind when I realized who he was. I knew this guy, had met him about a year earlier in my Master's other apartment. He was a young university student, just getting into the BDSM lifestyle. I was present for one of his first bondage sessions ever.
David told me he had been sent over to check on me to make sure I was alright, and to continue making my bondage session a very unpleasant one. I shook my head no and started mumbling as best I could while thrashing around on the bed. He put his hand firmly around the collar on my neck and told me to calm down. I did as I was told and quieted down. He rubbed my cock and balls again, gently this time. He told me not to worry, that he was only acting under strict instructions from our Master and although his visit would be somewhat unpleasant for me, I would be alright, he wouldn't harm me.
My response was to tell him to go fuck himself and I think he understood me through my gag as I heard him chuckle. Then I remembered the night I met him for the first time. My Master had instructed me to tie him up to His favourite bondage chair, while He carefully watched and supervised. David had already been stripped naked and I handcuffed his wrists tightly behind the chair back and placed a collar around his neck. I remembered binding his feet together and running the rope under the chair, lifting his feet, and tying the rope off to the chair back so that his bound feet were resting off the floor. I also tied his big toes tightly together and wound the rope around his bound ankles, forcing his toes up toward his ankles. I had been instructed to tie a rope around his muscular chest and crisscross it around his back and shoulders before cinching it tightly to the chair back. I had been told to blindfold him and gag him, using the same penis gag that was stuffed into my mouth now. I remembered that he had been very nervous and that I had told him it would be alright, I wouldn't hurt him, really. But then, I’d had a stroke of genius, or so I thought. I’d used another piece of rope to loop through the chains on his handcuffs, ran it under the chair, up through his legs, and tied it around his cock and balls. The poor guy was stuck in a sensitive position, but became very docile and cooperative. Every time he tried to move his hands or arms, he ended up pulling on his balls and yelping through the gag. I remembered my Master asking me how long I thought we should keep David tied up and I responded half jokingly that 4 hours would teach the new recruit what it's like to undergo a good BD session. I was instructed to give David edge play, but not let him cum or I would be punished. I worked him over for the next four hours with our Master watching and directing me. I remembered his moans and pleas as I abused his nipples over and over, attached clothespins to them and constantly stroked his cock, sometimes pulling on the rope just to hear him moan loudly. Finally, after the four hours was up, Master let him cum and the poor guy screamed through the gag as he shot his cream half way across the room.
Well, now the tables were reversed and he was going to have fun with me.
David reminded me of our first meeting and told me he had no grudge against me, that we were both submissives who have to do as the Master orders. This morning, after my Master left his apartment he had dropped by David's place, who by chance lived close to the Master and was home today. He instructed David to come over, giving him the keys to His apartment and to the collar padlocked around my neck. He told David what to do to me, beside check to make sure I was alright. Of course David had no choice in the matter, as our Master had issued His orders. He had placed David into his own CB3000 and kept the padlock key. David's cock was now also locked up and straining to get hard, especially as he had been put in charge of another bound slave for the first time by our Master.
Lucky me, I thought. Now I was going to have to suffer at the hands of another submissive, one who remembered what I did to him a year ago. I hoped he would take pity on me. I tried to form the words asking him to remove my gag and moved my head from side to side a number of times hoping he would understand. He told me he had been given strict orders that I was not to have the gag removed for more than four minutes and be given 3 sips of water only, but absolutely no food. I was grateful for small mercies as David told me to turn my head to one side. He unlocked the padlock chaining my neck to the headboard, unlaced my leather hood and slowly unbuckled the gag at the back of my head, while warning me not to give him trouble when it had to be reapplied.
It felt so fucking good to get that thing out of my mouth and to be able to exercise my jaw. I asked that he remove the blindfold and he said the Master had not mentioned anything about the blindfold so he would take a chance and remove it for me. He lifted my head gently off the pillow and rested it against his bare leg. He had stripped naked for me, an unexpected plus. This guy was great looking and a sight to behold. Of course the sight of him naked and caged gave me an instant hard on, which just made my dick hurt as it could not expand. I clearly saw the CB locked on him. He was also wearing a two inch wide leather collar padlocked snugly around his neck. I asked him if Master had applied the collar and he said "what do you think?" He had to wear a turtleneck sweater over to make sure nobody noticed the collar.
He gave me 3 sips of bottled water and I begged for more, but he said no way. He wasn't about to get into trouble with the Man or he would be locked up in the CB for days. As it was David explained that he had been studying hard and had refrained from cumming himself for a few days just before Master paid him a surprise visit and locked him into the CB this morning. He was told not to expect the CB and/or the collar to be removed before tomorrow at the earliest, so in a way our Master had dragged David into my extended bondage session. We had a little chat together and I was beginning to enjoy his company. Did I mention how handsome he was, with deep blue eyes, blond hair and six pack abs? Damn, he looked hot locked into the CB.
He caught me staring at his bound genitals and told me he hoped I was at least enjoying this added little bonus to my day. He told me that this was considered a punishment bondage session and asked me what I had done to piss off the Master so much. I told him that I had disobeyed Him and had cum without permission during the five weeks leading up to today's session, then lied about it when He had me tied up in a standing position this morning. David said that wasn't wise of me and I told him I realized that but couldn't help it as I was so damned horny at the time. We both talked about how important it is to tell the truth or risk the wrath of the Master if He found we had lied.
David then announced that 3 minutes were up and he was going to put the gag back into my mouth so he could tell Master that he gagged me again even before the time was up. I knew it was useless to resist so I dutifully opened my mouth and he stuffed it back in and buckled it behind my head, this time one notch tighter than it had been. I gave him an annoyed what the fuck look and he explained that Master ordered that the gag strap be buckled one notch tighter. He would stay with me for a while to make sure it was okay. He then put the blindfold and hood back on, making sure I could breathe easily, and laced it up again, tightening the laces more than they had been all morning. I shook my head no but again was told he had no choice. If he didn't follow His instructions then we both would pay for it. I was beginning to feel like my head was in a vice. Finally he reattached the chain around my collar, cinched it tightly and padlocked it around the headboard. It felt great to have the gag, blindfold and leather hood removed for those few moments and now I had to get used to having my head completely bound again.
I could hear David's footsteps as he walked barefoot over to where the toy chest was and my heart sank. Damn, I knew I would be in for more pain and I was right. He came back and began hitting the bottoms of my feet with the riding crop, lightly at first then increasing the intensity. I tried moving my feet to avoid the full force of the crop, but bound as I was it sure as hell did not work. I started yelling through the gag, then tried to beg for mercy. If David heard me at all, he ignored my pleas. When he finally stopped, my feet really hurt. He apologized to me but went at it for round two. I screamed again and thankfully this time he stopped faster. Then the crop caressed my right leg gently up to the thigh before stopping and resting there.
It was as if David was giving me a chance to prepare myself for what was to come next. He swatted me playfully at first, before letting go with about 12 hard smacks of the crop. I gritted my teeth around the gag and yelled. My breathing became hard and my heart began to beat faster. Before I could prepare myself he was at my left thigh and struck me again and again.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He sat down on the bed and gently rubbed my legs as I whimpered through the gag.
My tits were his next target. He found them again through the leather covering my chest and squeezed them with his powerful hands. I yelped and began thrashing around on the bed again as far as the collar around my neck would allow. He let me rest for a moment before twisting and pinching them again. He repeated this a number of times until my chest was on fire. I begged him to stop. He rubbed my chest gently and helped me calm down. I did not hate this guy working me over, in fact I took an immediate liking to him in spite of the pain he was causing me.
His next target was my poor bound balls. He managed to hit me with the crop, first lifting the cage encasing my dick, to get easier access to my trapped balls right through the diapers. They were a fair and tempting target I guess. He swatted me at least twenty times, though not as forcefully as he had hit my feet or my thighs. For this I was really grateful.
Then He did something which I'm sure he wasn't supposed to do. He lay down on the bed beside me and kissed my legs, rubbing his fingers slowly around the space just below the collar on my bare skin. I guess we both needed the break. He lay there with his arm across my chest for a while without saying a word. I felt him playing with his own dick, though he was not able to masturbate to orgasm with the CB locked on. He told me he was very horny and hoped our Master would remove the CB tomorrow. He even said he felt sorry for me as he knew my CB would not be coming off so soon. I had already resigned myself to the fact that I would be sent home with my cock and balls still locked up and would have to earn my release.
After a short while I felt his powerful hand over my mouth and nose, blocking my breathing. I held off as much as I could and mumbled for him to let me breathe. He repeated this at least five times, the last time squeezing my balls while keeping his other hand clamped over my mouth and nose. Then he lay his body on top of mine and I felt the full weight of him. He kissed my neck and hugged me. I would have gladly reciprocated if I hadn't been bound.
I think he stayed longer than he should have. The next thing I knew he seemed to have fallen asleep next to me. I lay wide awake recuperating from the beating I had just received. My nipples hurt and my skin burned on my thighs. My feet were so sore but still I reveled in all my tight restraints. David awoke after a short nap, told me he didn't have the heart to continue beating me, but he would have to smack me a few more times at least. He was a little gentler this time, except on my balls. He told me he had been warned to hit me hard in the balls. I yelped after each whack of his hand, then he placed one hand over my nose and mouth, which was gagged anyway, to silence me further, while continuing to hit my balls with his other hand. I prayed for him to finish so I could recover from the terrible pain I felt, right up to my gut.
When he was finished he kissed my legs again, then rubbed my balls gently for a few minutes, massaging them, then told me had to leave. With that he dressed, checked my collar, gag and padlocked chain leading to the headboard of the bed. He asked me if I was alright, and I nodded yes. He asked me if I was in pain and again I nodded yes. He apologized to me and I sensed that he actually meant it. He asked me if we were friends and I nodded yes again. He made sure I was breathing alright, and gently covered me with the blanket and adjusted my pillow. He told me he had stayed with me for 2 solid hours, but was not allowed to tell me what time it was. He said he was now very hungry and was going to go have his lunch. I moaned loudly and he knew how hungry I was, too. He said he wished he had the permission to feed me a muffin or some other food but had been told I was not to receive anything other than the few sips of water he gave me. Then I heard him walking over to the bedroom door. He unlocked it and said goodbye to me. I heard him close the door, and the deadbolt clicked shut and he was gone. I certainly hoped to run into him again, this time with me having the upper hand, so to speak.
I was left alone once more, in a world of complete blackness, bound ever so tightly and forced to continue enduring the day's punishment. I figured it must be around 2:00 o'clock in the afternoon, if I was right that would mean I had been tied up for 8 hours already and my Master was not going to be home for a number of hours yet. I felt pain in almost all parts of my body. The straitjacket was now hurting my shoulders and arms from not being able to move them at all. My feet hurt being smacked with the crop so much. I’d lost count of how many swats I received on the bottoms of my feet. My ankles were starting to tingle lightly from the leather cuffs wrapped around them and padlocked. My cock and balls ached from being locked up in the CB and my balls hurt from being smacked with the crop, punched and swatted by David. He’d worked my nipples over twice, to add to the pain I felt from the clothespins early this morning, and my Master twisting the pins on my nipples. They really hurt! The collar around my neck was beginning to chafe my skin, and the leather hood was now tied even tighter around my head, giving me a headache. My jaw continued to ache because of the penis gag that was stuffed into my mouth. The only relief I had gotten was the 3 sips of water, which certainly wasn't much. That and David's gentle touch mixed with his powerful swing of the riding crop connecting with my thighs, feet and balls. I was becoming angry with my Master for making me suffer this much, just because I had one little orgasm without His permission. I had to find the strength to obey him fully in future, or else practice telling a lie so He wouldn't catch me at it so damned easily.
I was feeling very tired and hungry. I tried to clear my mind and slowly felt myself drifting off to sleep. I slept like a log, losing track of time. When I awoke this time, I couldn't tell if it was four o'clock or six o'clock. I guess I was becoming exhausted from being beaten and bound so tightly, as well as not eating. I was still thirsty, those few sips of water David had allowed me hadn't quenched my thirst. My Master was a real control freak, even controlling the amount of water I was to receive, refusing me food for the entire day, refusing to allow me to use the bathroom this morning before being bound and straitjacketed.
The house was still eerily quiet, no one was home yet. I lay still, trying to relax a little. Then after a while I felt the need to pee again, I hated having to pee in my diapers again as, they were just starting to dry. I held off another hour or so, then felt a steady stream of piss as I let go again into my diapers. It felt so good to empty my bladder, too bad I couldn't release some of the semen I had built up over the last 4 weeks. My head hurt from having the leather hood laced up so fucking tight around my head. The gag was a diabolical invention and very effective, how I longed to have it removed from my mouth! My jaw now ached constantly and I had lost all track of time and wondered when my Master would be home. I became restless and then very angry at the degree of my punishment today. With the anger came a temper tantrum, which was actually kind of comical, had there been anyone there to observe it. I thrashed around on the bed, struggling to get loose, yelling through the gag and uttering the famous word of bondage enthusiasts everywhere "mmmmrrrrppphhhhh." Then I laughed at myself and thought you stupid fool, you agreed to the all day bondage event, you disobeyed your Master and deserve to be punished severely, so what are you yelling for. Obviously, I got absolutely nowhere and ended up using valuable energy, something of which was in very short supply since I had been tied up this morning.
Time passed slowly now and my ankles became really sore from the leather cuffs tightly wrapped around them, the skin chafed around the ankles. Same for my collar, which hurt my neck muscles from the continued struggle. Had David left me just a little more slack in the chain, I would have been more comfortable. He said he had to tighten it or get into trouble with the Master. I couldn't even imagine making another human being so uncomfortable for so many hours without release, but if I could, I swore I would love to give my Master a taste of his own medicine one day. Actually I had already tied up the Master on two separate occasions, the first time for about one hour, in the straitjacket, spandex hood and ankle cuffs, tied to the footboard of the bed. I was able to suck his dick that day, until he exploded and sprayed cum into my mouth and all over the straitjacket. I didn't want to untie him but I was afraid of what would happen to me if I kept him tied up any longer. It was an honor for me to be able to get that chance to put him into bondage, and naturally I had his permission.
The second time was a little more chaotic, but suffice it to say, I got Him into the straitjacket again, and tied His feet together, to the collar around his neck, which I had also placed on Him. I let Him stew in it for about 30 minutes before I played with His cock and balls until He came. He told me the collar was starting to hurt His neck as I had him tied into a semi tight hogtie. This was one night I actually wanted Him to suffer, so I deliberately tied his feet together tightly, before looping the rope into the D-ring of his collar. I was going to let Him stay tied up but He said he really had to pee, so I once again gave in for fear of suffering His wrath once he was loose although, I must admit, I brought Him to the bathroom to pee while still straitjacketed. I only let him out of it after he had finished peeing while I directed His stream by holding His dick for him. How often does a bottom get to do that to his master? Oh, for the good old days! This was the only time He was high, so his sense of time was skewed and I admit I took full advantage of it. But I never left his side while I had him bound. It was just such a great feeling to be able to tie up your own Master, not to mention work his dick and balls until He came. I even managed to flick His balls a number of times before He turned away from me, trying to get away from the pain I was causing. Believe me I paid for it in subsequent sessions.
There was the opportunity of a third time where we agreed to having me place Him in the straitjacket and I know I could have completely bound Him tight that night, but there simply was no time. We had been out together to the leather tailor, having new items made, and we were both aroused from the fittings of the made to measure pieces, which included a hood with zippers, arm binder, muzzle with penis gag, as well as the straitjacket and body bag. That would have made a wonderful session, but unfortunately for me it was so late when we arrived back at His place. I still regret not having taken that great opportunity to tie up the Master. After all, it sure doesn't happen often. Now I seriously doubt I'll ever get that chance again. He has gotten a little older and much more dominant, although He is now only 30 years old. I think he knows I would give anything to get Him tied up again, as I would make it an even longer session, and He would suffer, just a little.
About three more hours passed slowly while I lay there totally helpless and wishing He would come home to release me. Although I was completely blindfolded I felt it was now long past darkness outside. I could hear the wind picking up and I sensed it was getting colder in the bedroom as well.
Suddenly I heard His footsteps on the outside staircase and would have cried for joy had I not been gagged. I heard the front door open and close, then His footsteps as he took off his boots and walked up the hallway, past the bedroom door where I lay bound and anxious for release. He must have gone into the kitchen and I heard dishes clanking about. I expected him to come into the bedroom, but instead He must have made his supper, as He did not come to see me at all. It seemed like another agonizing hour passed while I continued to wait for Him, with no choice in the matter. I dared not call out a loud mmrrrrrppphh, for fear of annoying Him further.
Finally after about an hour I heard His footsteps coming back down the hallway, then heard the wonderful sound of the key in the lock as He unlocked the bedroom door. I heard Him flick on the light. I lay perfectly quiet and still as He approached the bed, not wanting to give Him any reason to get further annoyed with me than He had already proven to be. He rubbed his hands gently over my sore and by now bruised legs and feet. A small appreciative grunt escaped my mouth, but He didn't seem to notice.
Then He sat down on the bed and asked me how I was, of course I could not answer, gagged as I was, so I nodded my head affirmatively. He told me He was proud of me for having withstood my punishment BDSM session today, and He knew very well that it couldn't have been easy for me. These were wonderful words for a bottom to hear from his Master and I felt good inside. Then He released my ankles from my leather cuffs and I was finally able to bend my legs, He also released the chain from my collar so I was free to move around a little.
I expected Him to continue releasing me, but instead he put my feet together, slipped a rope around my ankles and tied my ankles tightly together. I wondered what the hell was going on, wasn't he finished with me yet? He must have read my mind as He told me He had had a full report late this afternoon from David. Next thing I knew He had retrieved His small whip, and started whacking my bare butt. I cried out and He increased the severity of each blow, giving me about 15 lashes. My bound feet were His next target and for this He used the riding crop again and hit me about 10 times. I began to cry from the pain and he rubbed his hands gently on my ass and feet for about 5 minutes. He told me a lot of work and planning had gone into today's session and it was almost over.
Then, before I realized it, He brought my bound feet up to my ass and tied me into a tight hogtie, tying the rope to the straps of my straitjacket. He gave me a bigger more comfortable pillow, put me on my side and gently covered me while I cried.
He had succeeded and had broken my will. I promised myself I would never disobey Him again. It just wasn't worth the pain and the cruel treatment I had endured today.
He told me He was going back out for coffee with a friend and would be home in a couple of hours. He did not tie me to the bed any further, but bound in a hogtie position, I would not dare move. I quieted down to a whimper before He left me and relocked the bedroom door. A moment later I heard the front door open and close and he was gone.
In spite of my restraints, I managed to fall asleep, in sheer exhaustion. I awoke about 2 hours later, or so it seemed. My ass and feet still stung and my head hurt like hell. He had not even unlaced my leather hood. I figured it must now be near midnight, I felt weak and wondered where He was, the house was so silent. Then I heard His footsteps on the staircase and the front door open and close again. I heard the key in the lock as He opened the bedroom door.
He came over to the bed and sat down beside my bound form. He asked if I was alright and I nodded yes. He rubbed me gently once again, paying special attention to the bottoms of my feet and to my ass. Then He released my legs from the hogtie and allowed me to sit up for the first time, while keeping my feet bound together. He started unlacing the leather hood and I could have screamed for joy at having it finally removed. I was still blindfolded but I could feel Him getting up from the bed. I was fearful that He was going to get another whip or paddle to strike me with, when I heard the sound of the bondage chair being placed by the bed.
He removed the blindfold and I blinked, my eyesight was blurred. Next He untied my feet and helped me stand and told me to sit on the bondage chair. I felt very weak and stiff as He tied my feet to each leg of the chair and reattached a rope to the collar around my neck, tying it to the back of the chair. Then He removed my gag, slowly. I was now effectively tied to the bondage chair, still straitjacketed and always wearing the soggy diapers. I must have looked like quite a sight to behold at the end of a marathon bondage session. he told me it was 11:00 PM. He had bought a ham, cheese and tomato sub for me and began to feed me slowly, allowing me to chew carefully. He was thoughtful enough to get me a straw with which to drink my milk, and even a brownie for dessert. He carefully wiped my mouth with each mouthful and allowed me time to finish chewing before feeding me the next bite. I was so hungry and the food tasted sooooo good. I thanked Him for allowing me some food. He had also bought me a bottle of water which I finished off as well.
He explained as He was feeding me that He really did not want to treat me this roughly but I had to understand that I had left Him no choice. As a Master, He couldn't possibly allow disobedience from any of His slaves. I had to be punished in order to change my behaviour. If I disobeyed him again, the punishment would be even more harsh next time.
I remained bound even as he was feeding me. I promised I would no longer make him angry by disobeying Him when given an order. He removed the CB and was kind enough to wash my cock and balls, warning me not to cum under any circumstances. That was very difficult for me as I was still bound, and he was manipulating my cock, which was like a pole at this point. He wiped away pre-cum twice and shot me a warning glance. I tried to think of mundane stuff at the office, and lost my erection. He washed the CB and reapplied it on me, using the next size up for the cuff ring, for which I was very grateful.
He applied the padlock and said I would have to remain locked up for a minimum of another 10 days, then He would release me and let me have a well deserved orgasm. The only proviso was that I not piss him off in the interim.
When He was finished cleaning me up He untied my feet and freed me from the collar, allowing me to stand. I felt a little stronger now that I had eaten, but my body was stiff and very sore. The soles of my feet hurt and I had to take my first few steps very slowly. I heard Him chuckle behind me as I turned my back toward Him, as instructed. He began unbuckling the straps of the straitjacket and I was finally freed from it, standing there in front of Him with just my soggy diapers on.
I wondered what would happen to David, whether he would be released from his CB and collar locked around his neck the next day. As if reading my mind, He said David would be taken care of within a few days. Master was not pleased with some of David's actions today. I was left to wonder which ones had gotten him into trouble with our Master. I asked for permission to use the bathroom to clean myself up and was granted permission.
I had just suffered through an incredible record-breaking 17.5 hour BDSM session, straitjacketed, hooded, and gagged while receiving corporal punishment and I couldn't wait to get home to shower and go to bed, I still felt exhausted. I began the process of healing the next morning and told myself that I must change my attitude. I didn't want to suffer through such tough punishment bondage sessions again. I seriously hoped my stubborn streak could be kept in check….
[Here's a new story, just sent in, describing what sounds like an early adventure of a very bondage-horny novice. My correspondent writes, “It isn't the best story, but it really wasn't the best play date either.” Maybe, but I like it. BW]
My heart pounded, I knew it was stupid to meet someone from the internet, especially alone and in the situation I was about to submit myself to, but it was my only choice. I have heard all the horror stories of internet hookups and the only thought still ringing in my head was, what if you’re about to become one of those stupid internet statistics?
I stood outside the door of the hotel room. His room. My breath coming slow as I tried to calm myself. My hands were numb and my stomach was preforming a trapese act. Swallowing my fear and that forbidding voice in the back of my mind, I turned the knob and let myself into the room.
“Hello,” I half whispered as I entered the dark room. I slid the door shut behind me and went further into the room. “Hello,” I said again. That was the moment it happened. A hand clamped across my mouth and a gruff voice whispered in my ear.
“Shut up and you won't get hurt.”
I swallowed.
“Do you understand?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Good,” he said. He shoved me forward not taking his hand away from my mouth. We moved forward into the dark where he shoved me down onto the bed. I bounced once before he was on top of me, quickly without warning my arms were drawn behind me and a length of rope wound around them snuggly. Before I could even think of what to do a long strip of cloth was pressed against my lips and wedged in my mouth, between my teeth, then secured behind my head.
“Now I got ya.” He said into my ear. My heart pounded and my dick hardened slightly.
He then proceeded to tie another length of cloth over my eyes, and the dark room went entirely black. Now I was really nervous and even harder. I swallowed and he must have heard me. He jerked me onto my back in one swift motion and put his hand firmly over my mouth, pressing my chin into my collar bone.
“Stay quiet!” he ordered gruffly.
I heard a switch click and figured he had put on a lamp or light or something. I felt him again standing near me, heard him messing with what sounded like rope, and then he pushed my legs together. He begain winding rope around my ankles almost to my calves. As he worked he kept muttering to himself, “Yes sir, you sure are a lot hotter than your picture. I am so glad we could make this work.” He laughed then, a sick twisted laugh.
When he was finished he left me lying there, tied up better then I could ever have fantasized and harder then I ever had been.
I lay there in the blind-darkness, my heart pounding, my cock hard and my gag getting soggier with every passing second. I wondered what he was doing, where he was. I began to wriggle my wrists trying to loosen my restraints. Then sliding my legs up and down doing my best to try and free my legs.
“Now, now,” I heard him say from my left side. “We can't have any of this.” He straddled me, placing the bulk of his weight on my waist. “No, no. When you misbehave you have to be punished,” he said.
He began to unbutton my shirt slowly. His hand slipped inside and caressed my left nipple, then ran its way down to my stomach. “Hum!” He moaned with delight, “You really are a lot nicer than I expected, and what's this?” He lifted himself slightly and groped my hardened cock through my jeans. “Maybe this will be more fun than I thought?" He said it more as a statement than a question.
I couldn't believe how I could be so scared and aroused at the same time. His hands were strong yet the way that he touched my nipples was gentle and seductive. I wouldn't give in to him, I couldn’t. But why wasn’t I trying harder to get free? Maybe I did enjoy this more then I thought. But that was beside the point. This man had grabbed me from behind, hauled me onto the bed and tied me up, now he was touching me and even though I was turned on, insanely, I had to get away.
I bucked and rolled, trying to knock him off, trying anything to get him off me. I had to get away, but he was strong, a lot stronger then I was.
“Easy, buddy.” He twisted my nipple harder, and I moaned louder into my gag. He clamped a hand over my mouth and whispered, “Now we can’t have any of that, can we?”
He got off me and I heard him rustling through some things. Then I heard the sound of duct tape being pulled off a roll. Seconds later I felt the stickiness of the tape press against my lips and then my cheek as he wound the tape around my head. He ripped it off and pressed it firmly into place. The he grabbed my feet and I felt the laces begin to give as he untied my shoes. The left shoe fell off and I felt my hot socked foot breathe. Next came the right one. He let go of my bound ankles and left me to lie there.
Again I struggled to free myself. I pulled my wrists this way and that, then wiggled my fingers trying to find the knots that held the ropes. All my struggling obviously caught his attention, either that or this is what he wanted. I felt him lay down on the bed behind me. From all my struggles I wound up on my left side. He grabbed me by my feet and pulled them to him.
“White socks,” he said. “You look good in these.”
Surprisingly the first thought that came to my mind was, they’re new. I tried to pull my feet away, but he had a good grip on them. His long fingers quickly crossed the soles of my feet and moved quickly. I tried even harder to pull my feet away from the tickle torture that had begun.
I begged him to stop, but my pleas were muffled by the gag. However, he stopped, perhaps he was bored perhaps he had other things in mind, I was just glad it was over.
Seconds later though, I felt the warmth of something soft against my cheek. It felt familiar and as it moved from left to right across my face, the feeling became obvious to me, it was a sock. His foot still contained within it. I grew hard as rock and felt a tiny squirt dribble down the head of my shaft.
As he moved his foot over my face, I longed for the blindfold to be removed so I could see this. He stopped and grabbed me, hauling me forward, he slid my shirt down around my wrists so that my torso was completely bare. He lay me back with a tiny bounce and fumbled with the buttons on my jeans. I began to twist and buck. I wasn't giving into this, not now, I had to get free. But part of me was saying just lay back and enjoy the ride.
As I argued with myself, however, my captor had undone my jeans and was sliding them down over my fire engine red cotton briefs.
“Someone is enjoying this,” he said as his hand touched my swollen organ. I felt it quiver and spit a tiny bit more. He slipped his fingers inside my briefs and pulled them down, then wrapped his hand gently around my shaft and began to pump.
It felt so good, I couldn't tell him that though, nor could I beg him to stop. Not just because of the gag, but also because of the fact that one I couldn't admit it, and second the last part wasn't necessarily true. I didn’t want him to stop.
As he pumped, my eyes rolled back in my head and my mouth went dry. My shaft hardened and jerked in his hand as my whole body quivered and spasmed. I unloaded spurt after spurt all over his hand and my bare body.
I lay there for a second unable to move or to focus on anything. Then, gently, he removed the blindfold and started on the gag, all the while saying, “Wow, bud, you sure were holding back.”
As the final bit of tape came free and the cloth was removed from my mouth I looked at him and smiled. "Yep." was all I could say.
“I wasn’t too rough for you, was I?" he asked.
“No, I wasn’t too believable a hostage though, was I?" I asked as he was untying my wrists.
“It's okay,” he said. “Sometimes you forget you’re role playing and get lost in the pure joy of the ropes.” I nodded and wiggled my fingers. “Were the ropes too tight?” he asked.
“No just perfect,” I said. “Now, I believe it's your turn?”
“Oh, yeah.” He smiled.
“Well, buckle up, buddy.” I grinned from one ear to another as I took up a length of rope. “You’re in for a long night.”
[This story originally appeared in the now defunct "New True-Life Bondage Stories" section. Check out Tugger049's website (http://www.geocities.com/tugger049/) to see his drawings and read some of his own stories]
One of my earliest memories is of being in the bedroom of our house on Neosho St in LA when I was supposed to be taking a nap. Since we lived in that house only from when I was 3 1/2 until I was 5, you can estimate how old I was. I was "napping" in my little briefs. I took my soft blanket (it had a cowboy pattern, by the way!) and stuffed it into the front of my briefs all around my little cock and balls, making a big mound around my groin. Then I rolled over on my tummy and rubbed and rubbed, until I reached a point of really intense pleasure followed by pain if I continued--sort of a 4-year-old's equivalent of climax, I guess. And what was going on in my mind? I was thinking about some cowboy being captured, tied up with rope and gagged with a bandanna handkerchief. And I repeated that scene, with variations, all through my boyhood and on into adolescence.
The stories in my head, as I got older and more able to elaborate them and as I gleaned more material from TV and movies and, later, books, got much more sophisticated. Instead of just that image of a cowboy being tied up and gagged, I would tell a long story to myself, spinning out the story and controlling my masturbation to lengthen it as long as I could. I lengthened the stories by making the set-up for the important scene, the scene in which the cowboy got captured and bound and gagged, by making the set-up longer and longer. Every time I saw some men in bondage on TV, I would replay the episode as is for a few nights and then I would start to revise it, make it different, change the story, elaborate it.
As I got older, the characters changed. When I was very little, they were always cowboys and I had (still have!) a strong fetish for bandannas worn as neckerchiefs and used as gags. Sometime later but before puberty, I began to notice that detective types got bound and gagged, too, and I started varying my nocturnal mindfilms with stories involving detectives being captured by the bad guys and getting tied up and gagged, but, as in the TV shows, detectives most often got gagged with men's white pocket handkerchiefs, and those too got added to my fetish.
In very early adolescence, the colored and patterned silk handkerchief men started to wear in the chest pocket of their suit (this was the early sixties) began to catch my attention, and, first as part of a gag, later, simply as a a thing in itself, was added as a fetish to bandannas and white pocket handkerchiefs. As I once pointed out to a friend/fuck buddy (the first man I ever actually bound and gagged), if you think about it, a guy in a suit with a silk handkerchief in his chest pocket is a walking invitation to a kidnapping. You can tie his feet with his belt, tie his wrists with his shoelaces, use his necktie to bind his arms to his sides or, as a variation, hog-tie his wrists to his ankles, stuff his white pocket handkerchief into his mouth as a gag and tie his silk show handkerchief over his mouth to keep his gag where it belongs—stuffing his mouth! He opined that he'd never thought of it that way before, but he guessed I was right. And I am!
Sometime just around puberty, I began to make "dirty" pictures. I don't think most people would have realized that they were erotic, just unusual, since to most people there is nothing erotic in the image of a fully clothed man who is bound and gagged. I started out tracing pictures from magazines and books and then changing them a bit. I remember one of my first came from the illustration to a story in "Boy's Life". It showed a cowboy, who had fallen down while being chased by a belligerent cow, flat on his ass, his legs out in front of him, his back to a fence post, his arms braced behind him. I traced it and found it fairly easy to change my version, adding ropes to bind his legs, redrawing his arms with his hands bound behind the post, and, of course, drawing a big bandanna tied over his mouth as a gag. Another drawing came from a comic strip in the paper. Some guy got tied up, but not gagged. Again it was easy to trace the picture and draw a handkerchief gag over his mouth. Sometimes I didn't bother tracing the image, but just drew a gag: there was a group of pages in a discarded Sears catalog showing lots of good-looking fellows dressed in suits with silk handkerchiefs puffed in their chest pockets; I used a pen to draw gags on them all!
As my drawing skills increased (practice may not make perfect, but lust-impelled repetition can make things better), I stopped depending on tracings and just did my own drawings. By my mid-teens, I had gotten tolerably good, but by no means of Michelangelo quality! I based my technique on the comics, and would first draw the picture in pencil, then ink in the outline with pen, and then, as these things got more elaborate, color them with colored pencils. I basically drew two types: what you might call bondage pin-ups; and action scenes. The bondage pin-ups were simply drawings of men bound and gagged. Sometimes they were cowboys with bandanna neckerchiefs (or cavalry officers—I love those big yellow silk neckerchiefs!); sometimes they were detectives dressed in suits with a silk pocket handkerchief puffed in their chest pocket.
They would be shown bound: just with their hands tied behind them; bound into a chair; hog-tied. And they would be gagged: a handkerchief or a bandanna would be stuffed in their mouth and another tied around their head to keep it in. I used those squiggle lines they use in the comics to indicate that the man was struggling, and sometimes I would draw a balloon above the guy's head with "Mmmmph! Mugummph!" written in it to indicate he was trying to yell through the gag. The action scenes came later, since they were much harder to draw, involving as they did more than one figure. In these, the man would be shown being bound and gagged: he would be bound and be being gagged, or he would have just been grabbed and would be shown as a handkerchief/bandanna gag was being shoved into his mouth, or he would be shown bound, the gag in his mouth and a bandanna or handkerchief being tied over his mouth to keep it in place, or he would be shown bound and gagged and thrown over his captor's shoulder to be carried off, etc.
Sometimes there was just one captor, sometimes two; they might be dressed as burglars, or dressed in suits, or as bad guy cowboys, etc. Balloons like in the comics might be used for dialog, the victim going "Mulgumph!", the bad guys taunting their captive, or one giving instructions to the other ("Tie that gag good and tight, Jack!") or whatever. Sometimes there were "thought" balloons in which the gagged man expressed his surprise, fear, wonder at what was going to happen to him, etc. In all these pictures, the victim looked scared, surprised, fearful, worried, anxious. On a few occasions, I drew more than one guy tied and gagged in the same picture: a kidnaping of an all male singing group, for example, a trio maybe, all three guys in suits with silk handkerchiefs, all three tied up and gagged. If I could hold out from cumming that long. I used the pictures for masturbation. They would be very exciting for a few days and then I would want to draw another one.
I also began to write stories. I started sometime around 11 or 12, when I was also writing stories for school (not about bondage, of course! ) and getting feedback that I was good (for an 11 or 12 year old, I guess I was). Anyway, I found I could turn this skill to my advantage for my secret sex life, writing stories based on the mystery novels I had read, or simply describing in as great as detail as I could manage the mindfilms of my nocturnal masturbation. Again, the early ones were very simple, merely descriptive of bondage. Soon, however, they became much more elaborate, and I tried to make them have real plots and some character development--although I don't think I thought in those terms at that age. I just wanted them to be as much like the books I was reading as possible, only about my obsessions: cowboys tied and gagged, bankers robbed and tied and gagged, detectives captured by the bad guys and tied up and gagged and kept prisoner.
I have sometimes wondered if my love of and (forgive me) skill with descriptive language did not at least in part come from the hours I spent writing carefully detailed descriptions of how my heroes were dressed, their jeans and boots and vests and bandannas, or their suits and ties and silk handkerchiefs. Certainly it has contributed in a mutually re-enforcing feedback to my physical sensuality, and how I really and truly enjoy and get off on men's clothes, my own and my partner's; I really like clothes, men's clothes, the feel and look of them, jeans and flannel shirts and denim shirts and leather boots and vests and soft, worn (and large!) bandannas, and also the soft wool of trousers and sportcoats and suits and the crisp cotton of starched dress shirts and the smooth silk of ties and chest pocket handkerchiefs—I really enjoy the sensuality of them all—and leather isn't bad, either.
I have never really understood transvestism (although I don't condemn it) simply because, although I think women's clothes are great on women, I really and truly like men's clothes—on men! All my stories have always included detailed descriptions of how the men are dressed, because it is so important to me. Anyway, I went on writing these stories, and endlessly varying them, but they all of course had one thing in common—at least one bound and gagged man. But, there was never any sex. Sex in the conventional sense hardly entered my fantasies, either masturbatory or drawn or written, except very briefly right after puberty and even then only sketchily. It soon dropped out, not to return except again briefly after I came out at 25, when it appeared and then disappeared once more until my thirties—and still is only ocassionaly included, mostly in the kind of finished stories I put on the net, rather than in the fragments I often write, which concentrate more on the roping and gagging per se.. In my private stories, ones I would not bother to share with others, sex never appeared at all, and that was precisely why they were not stories I would expect others to share.
I will try to conclude. Both stories and pictures had their "golden ages" and their fallow years. I was very productive and got quite good in my teens. I cut back in college—no privacy and guilt over my being not only "queer" but “weird-queer” held me back. I even burned many of my old stories and pictures. The year I lived at home between college and graduate school, I started up again with a vengeance, and I wrote quite a bit and drew a great many pictures of men tied up and gagged. When I went to graduate school, not the nocturnal fantasies, but the drawings and the stories went dormant during the few years before when I finally came out. Then, having mentioned my "vices" to a friend (the same fuck buddy I first bound and gagged) he asked to see some. I had none to show (they were all in a box in the attic at my folks' house), so I promised to make him some, and then I began once more. I drew him a picture of a suited and necktied fellow with a big silk puff in his chest pocket being grabbed from behind by a burglarish looking fellow who was stuffing a big bandanna wad into his mouth as a gag—the victim was struggling and mmmphing in surprise, and the burglarish looking fellow was smiling and clearly enjoying what he was doing. My friend liked the picture, although he said he didn't understand the significance of all the clothes (although he did know about my handkerchief fetishism). And I wrote him a story about a motorcyclist in the Berkeley Hills being attacked by a group of three other cyclists who tied him up, gagged him, dragged him off into the trees, and raped him. This was probably the first time there was any explicit sex in a story I wrote. The leader of the group was a handsome fellow and became infatuated with their victim, so he sent his companions off afterward to give himself time and opportunity to seduce the captive (he succumbed!) into being his lover. He liked that, too. And I was off again, and have continued to write and draw fairly extensively ever since.