It's hard to believe we're already approaching the fifth anniversary of the death of James Bond, the great bondage photographer. Here's a report of a wild experience this writer had with him. It appeared in Issue 63 [March/April 1998] of Bound & Gagged. Apologies for the poor quality of the photos, which were sent me by the writer, but I don't have time to look for the original scans, so am picking them up from the story as they appeared in that issue.
DEEP SEA DIVING AT THE BONDAGE MOTEL
It was one of the longest nights I have ever spent at work. It was early morning on the last night of work before the holidays. I was anxious, because I was meeting my friend James Bond at a motel as soon as I was free. He was passing through my area with his friend, and he had asked if I’d like to get together and play. Now, since James is an excellent bondage top, with a ton of heavy dive gear to play with, it took no time for me to accept! We made our plans, and I was to meet the pair at the motel when I got out of work in the morning.
Arriving at the motel shortly after 7:00 a.m., I had the desk clerk ring the room, and I drove to the proper end of the motel. There was James Bond, standing in the doorway waiting for me, with a big grin on his face. He warmly ushered me into the room, and I set down my gear bag. I was then introduced to his friend Lee, who was visiting from overseas.
After a brief introduction, I learned that Lee was also into our particular form of amusement, as he had spent the previous evening in a black rubber Viking drysuit and full face mask, bound and submerged in the bathtub! As we discussed those events, I got more and more excited as I looked over the dive gear scattered around the room. Wetsuits, drysuits, face masks of every kind—everywhere I directed my gaze my vision was filled with all this wonderful gear, and my mind raced with fantasies of what was to come. With the requisite small talk out of the way, I eagerly removed my clothes, and we got down to business...
The first piece of gear James produced was the Farmer John pants of a wetsuit, which had been “modified” for play by means of a hole cut in the crotch. I could already feel my cock starting to swell as I pictured it hanging outside of the smooth black neoprene which would soon cover my body. Soon I had the tightly gripping suit on, my cock jutting out of it just as I had imagined. Now, James approached me with a large, heavy, black latex garment, which had been custom-made for a body-builder by Aquala. It turned out to be a latex shirt, large and baggy, with long sleeves and an attached hood, with an opening for the face. I anxiously pulled the shirt on, feeling my wrists pop through the tight cuffs and my head settling firmly into the hood.
It was a bit loose on my thin frame, but James said we’d take care of that soon enough. He then added a high neck collar, which kept my head in a raised position. Wetsuit gloves and boots were added, and, fishing around in my gear bag, James retrieved my Israeli civilian gas mask. After pulling it over my head and cinching it down tight, my attire was complete, my pulsing rod the only amount of skin still exposed to the air of the room.
James instructed me to lie down on the bed, and I eagerly did so. He and Lee rustled around under the bed, and soon I felt my wrists being put into leather cuffs. After a little tying and pulling, my arms were stretched out wide, my wrists held down firmly at the corners of the mattress. Cuffs were strapped around my ankles, and before long I was spread-eagle, face-up on the bed, unable to move. James approached with more rope, which he tied around my waist and chest, pulling the latex shirt down tight against my skin. He wasn’t finished there, however, and I could feel the rope being worked between my legs, and around my ass and thighs. James finished the job by tightly tying my rock-hard cock and balls. Now, it was time for the REAL fun to start...
As I lay flat on my back, stretched out on the bed, I could feel Lee’s hands massaging my chest through the double-thick layer of rubber. Then, as one hand continued rubbing my chest, another worked its way up to the air intake port of my gas mask. I could see him smiling as I looked out through the lenses, and my next inhalation was a bit more difficult; Lee had put his hand over the intake, restricting my air flow. My cock surged with arousal and was then firmly gripped by James, who was out of my field of vision.
James continued stroking my shaft, and Lee busied himself with something on the night-stand. I felt the cap over the air intake being unscrewed and could hear another cap being unscrewed on the table beside me. Several seconds passed, and then the cap was replaced over my air intake, but covered by Lee’s finger. As I lay there holding my breath, James continued his work on my cock. I felt his hot mouth replace his hand, his lips sliding smoothly up and down my rigid pole. Even with the incredible stimulation, I could feel my last breath growing stale in my lungs, and I knew that I had to breathe, and soon.
Finally, Lee removed his finger from the air intake, and I took a huge, gasping breath—and was instantly greeted by the fumes of poppers entering my lungs. Fuck, I thought, as I realized the poppers had been inserted into my air intake, and I would be taking them in with every inhalation. With each breath, I could feel myself getting more and more aroused. As the heart-pounding light-headedness overtook me, all of my concentration went to my raging hard-on, which was gliding wetly in and out of James’ suctioning mouth.
I could feel myself getting close, and James, expert that he was, could sense it too. He slid me out of his mouth, applied a generous coat of lube, and began milking me firmly and rapidly with his hand. I felt my cum building inside my shaft, ready to spurt wildly, and, in my nitrate-altered state of mind, I noticed that Lee had cut off my air once more. Straining, thrashing, every muscle pulling against the ropes that held me, I ached to inhale, even as my cock pulsed and twitched in a raging orgasm. Spots of warmth appeared on my body, and I knew they were caused by the drops of my hot spunk hitting my rubberized body.
I lay there gasping, still coming down from the ecstacy of my orgasm, and my gas mask was removed and my bonds loosened. My cock remained tied, however, and, as I sat up, I glanced down at it. I was surprised to see that, even after the fantastic load I had just blown, my cock was still hard and throbbing!
After being allowed to stand up and stretch for a few minutes, James guided me over to one of the room’s wooden chairs. Sitting me down in the chair, James proceeded to tie my wrists to the chair and my ankles to the front legs. He completed my immobilization by wrapping more rope firmly around my waist, tying me tightly to the back of the chair. He then approached me with a shiny black rubber hood, which I was told was a breath-control hood. I had seen one in a photograph once, and my cock twitched with excitement as I thought about my head being sealed inside it. James showed me how the hood operated; a firm plastic tube would go into my mouth, connected to a small rubber bag on the outside of the hood. I was to exhale air into the bag, so I would have something to breathe when my two small air tubes were pinched shut from the outside.
My heart pounding with excitement, I carefully worked the tube into my mouth and saw everything go black as the hood was pulled over the skin-tight hood of my rubber shirt. I felt a tugging at the back of my head, and the hood got very tight as it was zipped up the back. There was an air pocket right in front of my nose, where the two air tubes entered the hood. Although I was very aroused, which made it hard to concentrate, I remembered James’ instructions. I inhaled deeply through my nose, then exhaled as much as I could through my mouth and into the bag. I knew I had filled it when I could feel the pressure from the full rubber bag pushing air back into my mouth, so I stuck my tounge into the tube to hold the air inside.
Once again, I felt James’ lubed hand firmly grip my shaft, and, as he started a slow, firm stroke, Lee moved behind me and massaged my head through the thick rubber hoods. Allowing myself to get lost in the sensation, I drew in a breath, and was slightly startled as the hood sucked itself down tightly onto my face. Lee had pinched off the air hoses! With James still piston-stroking my cock, I slowly breathed in the air I had saved in the rebreather bag. Each breath grew more difficult, as I used up more and more of the oxygen.
Finally, I could draw in new air from the tubes again, and I smelled nitrate vapors once again as I inhaled. I exhaled a lung-full into the bag, and, sure enough, the hood clamped to my face once again when I attempted to inhale. This time, however, my need for fresh air would not be satisfied so quickly. I sucked in the stale air from the bag, holding it as long as I could, as James increased the speed of his stroking to a relentless pace. With a slight haze from the poppers, the erotic grip of the enclosing rubber, and the lack of oxygen reaching my lungs, it didn’t take long. I felt my cock surging again, and I threw my head back, moaning long and loud into the hood. Since this was my second orgasm in an hour, it seemed to last longer, my cock continuing to pump and pulse long after my cum had been sent spurting forcefully out.
Totally exhausted, I slumped in the chair as Lee removed my hood. I felt completely spent and was shocked and pleased that I had had two amazing orgasms in such a short period of time! My head exposed once again to the light, I blinked and looked down, watching James continue to lightly fondle my tied, still hard cock and balls. He jokingly suggested that we should go for a third! However, as much as the thought excited me, for now I was more excited by his suggestion to go out for breakfast. After all I had just been through, I needed to eat to get my strength back! Besides, I knew there would always be a next time...
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