Bob Wingate's Blog

Dungeon Hi-Jinks

Here's what happened when two young guys, who'd never done much bondage or played with much gear, but as friends of a Bound & Gagged employee had been getting turned on to the scene, were let loose in the B&G dungeon. We'll start with what happened when one of them tried on a Russian flight suit, and move on from there.

Happy Thanksgiving!

And two pictures from a boy who I know is giving thanks. He bought the bondage suit I was selling about a year ago or so, at which time I asked him to send me some photos of himself wearing it. I just got the pics, together with this note:

 

Bob,

 

I'm not sure if you remember me, but I am the lucky boy that took your awesome bondage suit off your hands a while back. I know I promised pictures much earlier, but it took a while to meet up with Sir and get the thing on me, and then a bit more time to get the pictures from Sir!

 

Here are a pair of photos from Sir (areallytallboy on Recon). Please feel free to use them on your blog! If you do so, please refer to me by my Recon handle, WanderingNotLost.

 

I hope that you are doing well! Rest assured that I am making every effort to make as much use of this suit as I possibly can!

 

WanderingNotLost

 

I am doing well and I do rest so assured, and give thanks for your pics. I hope you will send me more pics of yourself made helpless in the suit. It looks very good on you. 

 

 

 

Caged

This story was published in Issue 63 (Mar/Apr 1998) of Bound & Gagged. It was originally titled "Cage Day," but as I prepared it for posting I came up with the following title, which I prefer:

 

DESPERATE SLAVE LOCKS SELF IN CAGE

 

MILWAUKEE, WI. I have been reading B&G for almost as long as you have been putting it out. I usually find a new idea for play in each issue. I have submitted stories in the past and here is another one!

     

Sometimes when I am extremely horny, beyond the normal usual, I like to put myself in bondage. Even though I live with a creative Master I get pleasure out of trying to put myself into a creative and miserable situation that I can’t get myself out of. It’s fairly easy to do.

     

One day I was miserably horny and alone on a day off. My Master was hard at work. We hadn’t played for more than a week for one reason and another. I think we were in a deadline kind of situation between our jobs and the company that we run in most of our spare time. I decided that I was going to put myself into bondage in a way that I hoped would turn him on enough to take him away from the kinky doldrums that we had gotten ourselves into.

     

We have an iron cage in our bedroom which measures 46" long by 27" wide by 36" high. With the right lock, it is in itself impossible to get out. It was the only structure for the bondage that day. To begin I had a leather chastity jock on for which I had the key. I loosened the crotch strap and shoved a dildo up my hole then relocked it. I then buckled a wide cowhide belt very tightly around my waist. The belt is actually a collar for a cow. I locked a leather collar around my neck. I took some shorter lengths of chain and measured the space between my waist and the belt around my waist and locked the chain in place so that I would be forced to remain on my knees. I took another longer length and draped it over the top of the cage and pulled it through the side bars of the cage. This would eventually be locked to rings on both sides of the collar. Next I took a pair of leg irons and put them on the floor of the cage spreading the chain as wide as I could around the bars of the cage while allowing space to lock them on my ankles. I dug through the toy bag until I found two sets of police handcuffs. I double locked one cuff from each pair around my wrists. The last preliminary step was to strap a ball gag tightly into my mouth. I found the two locks that I needed to secure the chain to my collar then crawled backwards into the cage. It was only minutes before I expected my Master to get home.

     

Once inside the cage I locked the leg irons around my ankles which forced my legs apart toward opposite corners of the cage. I then locked the end of the chain which I had already attached to the cage to the ring in the belt around my waist. I locked the two ends of the chain to the rings in my collar. My head was held toward the top of the cage keeping my arms straight and almost off the floor of the cage. I balanced myself on my knees well enough to slip the padlock into the cage door and then waited until I heard my Master come in through the back door. At that point I threw the ring full of keys out of the cage across the room where he would see them. I strapped a blindfold on and then locked the free end of the cuffs to the cage bars in the front corners of the cage. I had just finished my bondage when he walked into the bedroom. I was dripping with sweat from the effort that I was making to get myself into bondage.

     

He walked in the room and chuckled. I felt a little embarrassed at what I had done to myself. He said, “Nice… artful, too,” and then walked out of the room.

     

I had made his dinner for him. He simply had to serve himself. He finished his dinner then sat in front of the television to watch the news. I had intended to put a pair of Japanese Clover clamps weighted with a quarter pound of lead weights on each side but I forgot them hanging on the top of the cage frame. I wanted the pain as much as I wanted the bondage.

     

More than an hour passed. I could tell because I turned the stereo on before I started the bondage. The New Age disc that started shortly after he arrived home had started and ended. I was beginning to feel miserable and tired. I couldn’t move in any direction in order to find relief. My knees began to feel sore and my arms trembled from the stressful position that I had put them in. Finally I heard him coming up the stairs.

 

I wanted release and still I would have felt disappointed if he had released me. When he walked in the room he said, “Well, well, well, interesting… How do you like that position?”

 

 I muttered, “I’m tired,” through the gag.

 

He said, “What? I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

 

He picked up the tit clamps that I had hung on the cage and attached them to my tits. “This should make things more enjoyable for you…”

 

He went into the closet to change, then laid on the bed. I heard the pages of his book rustle as he turned them. He read until the next compact disc in the changer came on, then went into the toy bags. He found another lead weight and attached it to the chain between the tit clamps and then laid down again to continue reading. A while later he attached another weight to the tit clamp chain. I moaned and he laughed. He went back to his book. He got up again. This time I hoped it was to release me but it was to put another weight on the chain. I moaned and screamed.

 

My struggle caused the weights to swing which caused one of the clamps to pull off my tit. I moaned. I could feel my eyes roll back inside my head under the blindfold. He reattached the clamp then adjusted the other one. The clamps slipped off again. The sweat on my chest made my tits too slippery for the weighted clamps to hold. My Master gave up on the clamps and then released me a while later. The sweat on my body was evaporating and I was beginning to feel cold.

     

He let me out of the cage long enough to get a drink of water and to take a piss. It was extremely difficult to take a leak with the dildo pressing against my prostate but I managed to relieve myself in a long burning trickle. He locked me in the cage again and then gave me a blanket to wrap around myself until I warmed up again. I wondered if I was going to be forced to sleep in the cage that night.

     

Some time later he bound me in another position within the cage. This time I was forced to sit with my back against the back bars. My collar was locked to the bars so that I couldn’t slump. My wrists were attached by the handcuffs so that they were in front of me and stretched to the bars on opposite sides of the cage. He took the belt that had been around my waist and strapped my waist through the back bars and then tied my ankles with rope so that they were forced apart.

 

My Master has a favorite pair of tit clamps which he refers to as “My favorite” meaning that I like them. They look like a pair of tweezers with plastic tips on them. He likes to use them on me when my tits are already sore from other clamps and his typical abuse. He took the plastic covers off the tips leaving three pointed teeth to dig into my tits.

 

I usually lose control of myself when he uses them and I cum even when I try desperately to hold it back. I came! On cue! After I cum he usually removes them right away because the pain that they cause is unbearable after I cum. This time he left them on. I wriggled and struggled. I screamed as much as I was able through the gag, but it was to no avail. He chuckled and left them there to dig farther into my tits. After a while I acquiesced to the pain and began to enjoy it. He left them on while he went back to his book. I moaned and whimpered a lot but he attentively ignored me.

 

He finally came over to the cage again, reaching through the bars to jack me off. I came again. It was a tremendous orgasm this time. It made me feel so high that it took a long time to come down. When I did, I was still bound with the clamps on. My Master was talking me down. His voice was soft and menacing. He tightened the clamps and I screamed.

 

I begged, “Please, Sir, please, Sir? PLEASE, Sir!”

 

He tightened them again and asked, “Please, more Sir? Is that what you’re begging for?”

     

“No, SIR! Please take them off Sir!”

     

He tightened them again and then began to work my cock again. He jacked me off until I had another orgasm. I didn’t cum, I just had an orgasm. I screamed this time. I was totally fucked up from the orgasm and from the pain that the clamps were causing. I could feel my Master quickly, almost in a panic, removing the clamps and the restraints. He opened the cage and helped me slide out. I sat helplessly on the floor until I regained enough sense to start to climb up the foot board of the bed to my feet.

     

My Master had already pulled the blankets on the bed back. I jumped into bed without cleaning up the mess that we had made. That in itself is extremely unusual. I am anal retentive and neurotically neat. While I laid half awake he closed the front of the jock and locked it.

 

I slept with the dildo still up my ass and my cock imprisoned in the jock. I woke up in agony. I had to take a dump and a piss. Once Master had allowed me to do that I was ready to play more. It was Saturday morning and he was horny too…

 

Unpleasant Bondage Story Has Happy End

Rereading this story, I'm amazed I printed it the first time, since it tells what is basically a rapist's story from the rapist's point of view. I guess I did it for the same reason I'm posting it here: its happy ending, with the victim untraumatized by what happened to him, and the rapist basically getting his own back, to everybody's satisfaction. That said, nothing about the first part of the story excuses the writer from his participation, and the way he took advantage of a helpless person—even if it does make for a hot read.

 

RED AND ME

 MINNEAPOLIS, MN. In 1987, a year before I came out as a gay (and moved to Austin) I worked road construction and lived in a small West Texas town as dead as asphalt except for Bucks Bar and Grill and it was only lively on Fri and Sat nites. Those nites Red and his C/W band played from 8 to 11. Red was 51, his hair which had given him his nickname had already turned silvergray, but he was physically dynamite, had a big sensual mouth I dreamed would someday be around my joint, and had screwed most of the women in town.

Bondage Play on and around a Rack

Here's a nice photo set I'm pretty sure I've never posted here. The guys playing in our studio were Mike Winters and Matt Moore, with Mike on top.

Dart Strapped in Place

It seems that every time I think I've run out of photos of Dart in bondage, I find more. I won't apologize for that. I do remember the occasion when this session took place; I just didn't remember having photographed it.

 

On the occasion, our friend Mike and Dart were playing some kind of ball beating game. Dart said Mike would have to put him into inescapable bondage if he wanted even to get near his balls. Mike said he'd not only see to it Dart couldn't free himself; he'd give Dart an hour to try to escape before he moved in. Mike was as good as his word. Dart couldn't get free, and not for want of trying. On the other hand, curiously, he didn't seem to mind all that much.

 

Eric Estevez Bucked

Jeff D. Kota and Shawn Islander, who tied each other up for the first scene in Tit for Tat 1 [see last week's post], were lovers who played bondage games often. Kip Kasey and Eric Estevez, who tied each other up for the second scene, had only just met for the first time that day; on top of that, Eric had never been tied up before, though he was more than game for having it happen. Kip tied Eric up beautifully, as you can see in these photos. I wish I could find more photos of Kipp tied up by Eric, especially since, for someone who'd never tied up anyone in his life, Eric caught on to what it was all about real fast and did an amazing job.

Bondage in Diving Gear

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.

Thoughts on Torture Play

Last week I posted a story about a modification for play purposes of a 17^th Century German torture called The Aufziehen. My friend Leo sent me his thoughts on such intense play, and rather than put them in the Comments section, I thought I’d post his words here, and ask for your comments on them.

 

Leo writes:

You may remember I had a sub who did not alert me to his (intentional) near suffocation. Had I not been in attendance the entire time, the outcome would have been much worse than “near” suffocation. I was thinking that in serious sessions, it might be prudent to get a medical release from the sub, to give him an idea just how serious the situation could get. The release might or might not be legal, but it would probably make the sub rethink things. It might also be prudent to have a limited liability form, so you can't be sued for injuries incurred on your property. I don’t know if such forms and releases are legally possible, but they should be, and again, the point of putting them in front of a sub, for him to sign, is mostly to make him think twice before he leaps into something he fantasizes about that could kill him.

 

Guys, you may only want to do this for very serious interactions where serious crap could happen. But if you're a player who doesn't like to just dabble, it might be a very good practice to get into.

 

Your thoughts?

Buddy Rope Bondage, part 2

Having tied up Shawn, who has not gotten himself loose, Jeff plays with him.

Buddy Rope Bondage, part 1

Jeff D. Kota and Shawn Islander were lovers, each starting out in the porn industry, when the great photographer Greg Lenzman, forever on the hunt for bondage models for me, discovered they also loved playing bondage games together. They were perfect subjects for one scene in the Tit for Tat video I had been planning. I wasn't daunted by Jeff's boasts that no matter how tightly Shawn tied him up he could get free, since that played naturally into the tit for tat situation, besides which the struggle to get free, the sight of all that male energy contained, is what has always made the rope bondage situation so exciting, for me at least: it's as much about trying to get loose as it is about being tied up. There's nothing worse for a rope top than seeing a bound guy immediately accepting his bondage and just lying there like a cakebox. Why bother to have tied him up at all?

Who's in Control?

While I generally find experiences told from the bottom's point of view to be hotter than those from the top's (possibly because of my own bottom leanings), every once in a while I come across a piece by a top that hits my buttons. This particular story, by a top who wasn't even into bondage until placed in a situation where he found out that he was, at which time he seemed to know exactly what to do, is one such case. It was published in Issue 99 of B&G [March, 2004], under the following title:

 

L.A. STUD HORSEFUCKS KENTUCKY JOCK BOTTOM

 

LOS ANGELES. We met online. I live in Los Angeles, he 2000 miles away in Kentucky. LA is full of hot horny guys and I have no trouble getting more than my fair share so the distance alone should’ve put me off. But there was something about him that peaked my interest.

 

Of course, he had the requisite hot photos of himself and was the type I like: very handsome, tall, clean-cut Midwest jock, mid-30’s, the chiseled muscular body of an athlete, broad shouldered, tight-waisted, well hung, incredibly smooth skin and a butt that was so awesome that it made God rest on the 7th day so he himself could admire his own work.

 

We also quickly determined we matched sexually. I’m a dominant top and he’s a submissive bottom. We never discussed bondage but we both liked sex to be intensely physical, erotic & passionate, connecting with our primal urges, but without being romantic.

 

And in the conversations that followed, he also revealed he had values, morals, intelligence, talent, self-esteem and direction. And it’s that contrast of different qualities in a man that turns me on the most. I like a man that’s a clean cut jock on the streets, yet one horny fuck between the sheets. Someone I respect, consider an equal and like as a friend but can be sexually submissive. Someone who can spend one night cuddling and the next generate the kind of sexual intensity that we end up busting the bed.   

 

After 2 months of daily phone calls, he agreed to fly to LA for a weekend. I’ve long ago learned that reality never lives up to online advertising, so I fully expected to be disappointed on some level. But this man turned out to be the exception to that rule. He was as hot in person as the guy I had gotten to know over the phone, in every respect. And so was the sex. If I skip the details, it’s not because they aren’t worth mentioning. Trust me, the sex was incredible. But other than some ball slapping and breath control, I don’t think the details of our first few weekends would interest anyone else.

 

But as with most things that start out very intense, after another month of calls and another visit, I got a “dear John” letter saying he couldn’t continue seeing me. I guess it was inevitable. The distance and our own day-to-day crap left little room for what at the time seemed could only be a fantasy. Our conversations dwindled to an email every other week and then it was only about work or the weather, nothing sexual.

 

Then, 5 months later, out of the blue, he asked me to visit him. As the weekend approached, I had increasing fantasies and dreams about fucking him. But in the daylight, I would temper them by reminding myself not to get my expectations out of whack. I figured the sexual chemistry would still be there but we really hadn’t talked in 5 months. He could have a boyfriend by now, could be asking me to visit just as a friend, truth is I really didn’t know what he had in mind. But for some reason I still can’t explain, in packing for the trip, I bought him a leather ball stretcher and threw in 25 ft of black rope. And don’t ask me why because I’ve never been into bondage, CBT or anything like that before.

 

I’ll never forget my first sight of him at the airport. I saw him approaching from a distance, a clean-cut jock in jeans, boots & white t-shirt, casually walking through the baggage terminal carrying a slurpee-sized cocktail. Again, there was that contrast I love — a clean-cut athletic stud strolling through a post 9-11 security-heightened airport with a cocktail in his hand like he was crossing a bar! Only he could get away with it! I don’t know if he noticed but by the time he got to me, I had a full boner.

 

We went directly to his house, an elegant turn-of-the-century brick townhouse. Another contrast, not what you’d expect from the outward appearance of this jock. We had a couple of drinks and went out to dinner. While we waited for our table & food, we shot some pool. Through our conversation and the body language, it was obvious that time apart had not diminished the sexual attraction we had for each other. I love that seductive foreplay you have in public with someone you’re attracted to before you head home to the bedroom. I know we had sex that night and though it was only 4 days ago, I honestly can’t remember if I fucked him. What stands out most was that we both were in no hurry because we knew it was the first of 4 nights we were going to spend together.

 

The next night, we went out to the local dance club. I would’ve been happy to stay home and just fucked, but I also felt I had to at least pretend to enjoy the social outings he had planned, even if for me it was just a prelude to sex. Don’t get me wrong, I loved being out with him. But after 5 months and the previous quiet evening, I was dying to fuck the hell out of him. The club wasn’t too crowded and he would occasionally leave me with this friend or that one, while he wandered off to look for someone or another. Normally that would’ve bugged me but I remember thinking how much more confident and outgoing he seemed on his home turf, a contrast to the more passive side I had witnessed when he had visited me in LA. And I guess seeing this new side of him threw my instincts off and put me in the more passive role. Not something I’m used to. The truth was that I couldn’t wait to get back home. I was determined to fuck the daylights out of him that night but at the same time, I was trying to play it cool and not seem too eager. And that feeling continued as we finally headed back to his house. 

 

As we walked in the door, he headed upstairs to the bedrooms while I took a shower downstairs. When done, I headed upstairs with just a towel around my waist. The second floor consisted of a central sitting room with a bedroom on either side. The night before we had slept in his room but earlier that day he had mentioned if his roommate was out of town, we’d sleep in the other room as the bed in there was more comfortable.

 

As I entered the sitting room, I dropped the towel so that I was completely naked as I headed to the doorway to his bedroom.  He was in there doing something but I really didn’t notice because I was more intent on not trying to seem too hungry for sex. Granted I was butt naked and my cock was showing signs of excitement, but I had known him long enough that we were used to being naked with each other, and it was not unusual for me to be in that state around him. Besides which, always one to be a gracious host myself when I have company, I didn’t think it odd that he had things to do before he came to bed.

 

As I lay on his bed, I asked him in which room we were sleeping. He said his roommate’s, but then handed me a copy of Bound & Gagged.  He asked me if I had ever seen the magazine before and told me to read this particular article while I waited (he later admitted he was trying to give me a hint of what he wanted, a hint it turned out that I didn’t need). I tried reading but whether it was the evening’s cocktails or being put off, told to read a porn magazine, by a guy I was dying to fuck, I really don’t remember what I was reading. I do know that I had trouble seeing in the dim light without my glasses so I went back into the sitting room, put on my reading glasses and sat in an easy chair biding my time.

 

The next thing I know, he comes up to me, kneels between my legs, starts sucking my dick, and telling me how fucking hot I look sitting there naked reading with my glasses. I try to put the magazine down & play with him but he pushes me back in the chair telling me to just sit back and enjoy both his mouth & the story I was reading. It didn’t take much coaxing to oblige him and pretty soon, he had my dick rock hard and I was moaning at his touch.

 

He then takes me by the hand and leads me into his roommate’s bedroom. As I enter, I hear the soundtrack of harsh vocal, very sexual trance music and the room is flooded with candlelight. In the center of the room is a massive king size four poster bed. Not some delicate antique but one with massive posts made of dark wrought iron steel that could hold the weight of an elephant.

 

He leads me to a table and says “look what I bought us” as he displays a collection of black leather restraints, chains, collars, metal hooks, paddles, dildos, blindfolds, etc. He was like a kid showing off his Christmas loot. I was surprised on so many levels. Surprised at how he had arranged all this without my even noticing, and surprised how turned on I was even though I had never before been into bondage.

 

First off, you have to understand that I hate seduction scenes. Being a top and always the dominant one, I’m used to calling the shots. In the past when someone’s tried to seduce me by setting up a scenario that suited their liking, I’ve usually been turned off by what I considered their weak undeserving attempt to manipulate me. But that night was different. By being on his turf and with him determining our weekend schedule, he had already put me in the mood to be more accepting. But by doing so, he had also increased the sexual frustration that had been slowly building over the past 5 months. So without ever expressing his interests or checking out mine, he had created a setting that was in total sync with what we both wanted that night. And feeling that chemistry and connection started turning me on even more.

 

Before I could take stock of everything around me, he grabbed my hand and started putting on a pair of half-finger black leather gloves, the kind with spikes on the palm side, explaining he had custom ordered another pair for me but they wouldn’t be ready until Monday. I looked down at him and realized for the first time that while I was naked, he was wearing a black jock strap that flattered his incredible ass. His butt looked amazing in it. As he fastened the second glove on my hand, I kissed him, sucking his tongue deep into my mouth while I pulled him close pressing the spikes on my one already gloved hand into the muscles on his back.

 

I selected a collar with a chain leash from the table and placed it securely around his neck. I realize now, just like leashing an animal, it was a very primal expression of taking control. Then I grabbed a wrist cuff and started putting it on him. He started explaining to me how to close it with the hook & what the chain was for and I heard myself say “just shut-the-fuck up.” Though this was my first time at bondage, he had lit a fire in me. I somehow knew exactly what I was doing, what I wanted, and I didn’t need instruction from some fucker that all of a sudden was only there to give me pleasure.

 

With both wrist cuffs on, I put him on the bed face down and secured each wrist with chains to the headboard corner posts. I then put a pillow under his hips—I love seeing a hot ass propped up on a pillow—and secured his ankles in the same way to the foot posts so that he was stretched out tightly like an X. I then put a blindfold on him. And as I knelt between his legs, pressing my spiked gloved hands over his backside, I admired the beauty of the male body in front of me. This man’s body is truly perfection, even more so because he doesn’t fully realize it. And he has an ass that would make any mouth water.

 

I started out with just my spiked gloves, squeezing his body, digging the spikes into his skin, constantly watching his face to make sure it delivered the desired effect. I then went down with my tongue, moving up and down the crack of his hairless ass until I buried it deep inside his hole. I could’ve done that for hours but rimming doesn’t do much for him so it’s never been a big part of our play. But I still can’t help doing it, sort of an acknowledgment of his incredible ass.

 

At that point, I got up to retrieve the ball stretcher and rope I had in my luggage. And yes, it struck me as odd that I would bring the very thing he hadn’t thought of supplying and hadn’t even used myself before that night. When I returned, I put the ball stretcher around his nuts, tied the rope to the D ring, pulled the rope tightly down between his legs and tied it off around the foot rail of the bed. With his hands & legs tied to the corner posts and the soft mattress underneath him, I knew the tight rope would pull at his nuts every time I leaned on his ass and eventually fucked him.

 

I then grabbed a paddle and started slapping his ass. I started out slow, not sure how rough I could be with him. This was my first time whipping anyone and I’m sure it was the first time for him. With his arms stretched out tightly and the rope pulling at his nuts, he couldn’t even squirm as that would mean just more pain on his balls. He had little choice but to lie there and take what I decided to dish out.

 

The whole time I was constantly watching his blindfolded face. If he didn’t scream or moan loud enough, I beat him harder. I thought of gagging his mouth, but his sounds rising above the trance music were turning me on.

 

I next grabbed a dildo, the kind with a handle on it, that you can literally ram fuck someone. I started fucking him with it and beating his ass with the paddle at the same time constantly watching his blindfolded face. At some point, I replaced the dildo with my cock which had stayed rock hard. I would’ve fucked him right from the very beginning but since I knew that’s what he really wanted, I had deprived him of it until I myself couldn’t hold back anymore. And as I fucked him, I either pulled on the chain hooked to his collar or pressed my spiked hands into his back knowing that each thrust was pulling the rope tied securely around his nuts.

 

Somewhere along the way, I lost all track of time. But this went on for at least two or three hours, with me alternating between beating him, plunging the dildo into him, fucking him, double fucking him with the dildo & my cock, and dripping hot wax all over his body. And the whole time, I was watching his face, getting turned on by the sound of the chains pulling against the metal bed frame, and his moans & screams, begging me to take it easy on him, though I knew deep down he really loved it. I even left him a couple of times, either to take a shower or have a drink, or just stand back and watch him. He was blindfolded. Unless I was on him, he didn’t know whether I stayed in the room or left. It was such a turn-on to see him bound and blindfolded, completely at my mercy.

 

In the end, I rolled him over on his back, tied his hands to the corner posts with his legs tied over his head to the headboard and finally fucked him until I blew deep inside. We fell asleep entwined with our mouths glued against each other’s.

 

The next morning, as he crawled out of bed, I noticed his entire ass was black. We both figured it was the same dye from the black leather gloves that had stained my hands. It wasn’t until we were in the shower that we realized that while the dye washed off my hands, it didn’t off his butt because it wasn’t leather dye. Those dark stains were in fact black bruises from the beating I had given him.

 

Part of me was stunned that I could do such damage to what I consider one of the most incredible asses I’ve ever seen. But in my defense, it was my first time at bat and I didn’t have the experience to know that a beating could leave such bruises. And as the day wore on, as I saw him mildly wince in pain every time he sat or got up, I started hoping I hadn’t permanently scarred him. Yet he didn’t complain once, not even jokingly.

 

Later that night, we again went out to the bar. A friend of his innocently asked whether we had a good time the night before. We both smiled at each other and just said “yeah.” He then turned to me and asked, “Can I show him?” I said yes, not really knowing what he meant. He walked to the end of the bar, dropped the back of his jeans and showed his friend the dark bruises I had given him. From the distance, I couldn’t hear what he was saying, just saw that he was smiling & pointed to me while he said a few words to his friend. At that point I realized he was showing off the bruises like they were a badge of honor. That relieved my guilt. And yes, it turned me on even more.

 

We spent that night back in his own bedroom. After some foreplay, I told him to put on his wrist cuffs while I again put on the spiked gloves. I tied his hands to loops of rope I had arranged in the 10 ft archway to his closet so that he was standing fully outstretched again like an X. I then started again pressing the spikes into his body as I deep-kissed him, squeezing them into his arms & pecs, even tightly grabbing his balls. As my hands traveled over his body, I became much gentler as I got near his ass because I knew it was tender. I pulled back from his mouth and watched his face wince slightly but he otherwise didn’t protest or even caution me to be careful.

 

I was amazed as I looked at him. This incredibly hot man, suspended by his wrists, still sore from the beating I had given him the night before. Yet he was stretched out totally naked before me, willing for me to do whatever I wished with him and at the same time, without saying a word, trusting that I would realize he was in too much pain to repeat the previous night’s events.

 

As I was also too worn out for a repeat of the previous night, I finally unhooked him and sat down in an overstuffed easy chair while he knelt between my legs and sucked my cock. In contrast to the other bedroom which was dark with heavy furniture, his room was completely white and sparse. There was a single candle burning in the room and the entire background was white or shadows on white, and there was soft music playing in the background. The only contrasting color was our flesh tones. As I looked down at him, I saw his flawless smooth body framed between my outstretched legs. As he knelt before me, I could feel the heat of his body between my legs contrasted against the coolness of the fabric covering the chair. And his intent on pleasing me with the warmth of his mouth was getting me close to exploding. 

 

I looked down at the black leather cuffs still around his wrists and in that tranquil setting they were a stark reminder of the violent sex we had had the previous night. Those black leather cuffs were a common link and in that one moment, both nights melted together in one. And it showed another of his contrasts: he serving me but in two completely different ways. I was amazed that two nights of sex with the same man could be so totally different yet just as intense.

 

As I sit here at 30,000 feet waiting to land back in Los Angeles, it dawns on me that this guy knew exactly what he was doing this past weekend. He even knew about a side of me that even I hadn’t realized existed. I know bondage is a lot about control, the top dominating the bottom. But as I sit here, I’m left wondering which of us really had the control, whether I really took it or whether he just gave it to me. Or maybe this was just another example of his many contrasts: that this submissive bottom had stayed in control all along and it was he that had manipulated me for his own sexual gratification. And for some reason, that possibility makes the whole experience that much hotter.

 

Torture

I'm a softy. I'm not interested in giving or receiving what I consider severe pain—I knew a kid who considered a bullwhip session as satisfying as a deep massage, but I could not have tolerated it, or done it to him. On the other hand, I have published and posted pieces, often as cautionary tales, in which the activities described went much further than made me comfortable, if the narrator of the piece was the writer who'd experienced the activities himself, or if the experience was described from a (sane) top's perspective, with his own cautions attached. The scary (to me) narrative below is one such case in point. What the writer devised was his own version of what was, as he himself says, a real torture meted out to victims in 17th Century Germany, from which recovery was neither expected nor desired. 

 

I recently found this piece in a box full of submissions to Bound & Gagged which we didn't have time to publish before suspending operations in 2005 (I'll be posting more such pieces here). I include the writer's name, since he himself put it at the top of his manuscript in such a way as to make me believe he wanted to be credited.

 

The Aufziehen Experience
By
Tomm Dunn

 

While doing background research for a novel…I came upon an elaborate refinement of torture that evolved in 17^th Century Germany. I decided to contact a friend whose enthusiasm for erotic S&M is equal to my own. My friend’s collaboration was essential. My hard and fast rule is to experience first anything I do to a submissive and for that I needed my friend.