Bob Wingate's Blog: Eric Tide's Bondage Memoirs - Joshua

After a silence of over a year and a half, Eric just sent me the first chapter of a new work he wrote, describing his long bondage relationship with a young man named Joshua. He wondered if I had any photos to use with the story. The ones I include were the best I could find at short notice. As with many stories published over the years in Bound & Gagged, the ones I use here are intended more to accompany the story than to illustrate it.

JOSHUA

Chapter 1

When I first met Joshua, he was eighteen and I was ten years older, but we both looked younger than our true ages. Despite his youth, he had been around the block a few times and was quite experienced with bondage. It didn’t take me long to figure that out. I prefer to keep the details private about how we came to know each other. What’s important is that I agreed to let him own me whenever he wanted.

Before we shook hands on the deal, I made him promise to tie me up long and often, which was my true passion, and to bully me ruthlessly. I placed three restrictions on him: (1) Keep our relationship secret, (2) keep me out of the emergency room, and (3) keep his body fluids out of me. He could put his body fluids on me all he wanted, but just not in me. I wasn’t ready for that at the time.

Truthfully, he wasn’t too happy with the last condition, but he agreed to my terms. Late one night, we began a ten-year relationship. I grabbed a handful of assorted ropes and some duct tape from my bedroom closet, returned to the living room, and dropped them at his feet.

“Slip your socks off,” said Joshua. “Shirt, too.”

I was still wearing my jeans. Joshua crossed my wrists behind my back and tied my hands. He tugged extra hard to tighten the knots and make me grunt. He liked that. He turned me with my back to the sofa and ordered me to kneel. He forced me belly down onto the floor, spread my legs apart, and tied my ankles to the sofa legs, with attitude.

My hamstrings were on fire, and the ropes dug deeply into my ankles. I groaned in agony. Joshua kicked me hard in the ribs with his socked toe.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Joshua reminded me so much of Dylan. He found a dirty washrag at the bottom of my bathroom hamper, stuffed the rag in my mouth, and taped it in place with a wide strip of duct tape. The gritty rag tasted soapy and bitter. My throat burned when I swallowed. Joshua stood over me in silence for a long while.

“Damn, you look good all tied up,” he said. “I really want to fuck you.”

He stuck his socked foot underneath my nose. Since his feet had been stuffed in his steamy tennis shoes all day, the smell was powerful. He pressed his foot hard against my cheek and ground my face into the carpet until I grew hoarse from muffled screams. He stood with both feet on my back and bounced until I struggled to breathe. Logan and Dylan used to do that. With each bounce, the ropes dug even more deeply into my ankles, causing terrible pain.

Joshua tormented me for a while, then sat on the sofa between my legs and switched on the television using the remote. He made himself at home, fixing himself a sandwich and finding some snacks in the kitchen. Every now and then he raked his toes hard across my balls or drove a bruising heel into my ass. Once, he poured a generous supply of icy Coca-Cola over my head, soaking my thick hair. He apologized rather insincerely for dirtying the carpet and told me I could clean it up in the morning.

He watched Johnny Carson from opening monologue until the show ended. By then, the ropes had begun to deliver insufferable torture. I writhed and whimpered in pain. My craving for bondage had been satisfied for the night, but I wasn’t about to beg for release in our first session.

He told me to shut up a few times, kicking me in the balls when annoyed with me. Then he pulled off his belt and blistered my back, arms, and ass with fifteen or twenty brutal lashes. He stuck his toes underneath my crotch and raked them cruelly across my balls. I was rock hard.

“You love this,” said Joshua. I didn’t get the impression he’d have cared if I didn’t.

He left me tied up for another hour, maybe longer, occasionally using his belt on me, kicking me in the nuts, or burying his toes in my ribs. Finally, he loosened the ropes on my ankles. I had never felt such relief. But he left my hands tied and the gag in place. He pulled me to my feet by my arms. He was only a few inches taller than me but this was the first time I became aware of his strength. My legs were so sore that I could barely stand.

He rubbed his hands all over my bare skin, then rubbed the denim covering my ass and crotch. He was horny and sweating. He pulled off his shirt. He pinched my nipples, lightly at first but then harder. He sucked them, nibbling them and pulling them hard with his teeth. I thought he might bite them off. He removed the gag, ripping the tape off and taking a layer of skin with it. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t.

Instead, he knelt at my crotch, unzipped my jeans, and slid them down to my ankles. Then he slid down my white briefs. He fondled my dick until it was erect again and began to suck me off. He sucked me for a couple of minutes. In a sense, it felt good, but strangely I was more overcome by feelings that I was nothing more than a worthless prostitute.

He stopped. He sat back on his haunches, unzipped his own jeans, and pulled the flaps apart. His slender cock was a full ten inches long and on the verge of ripping a hole in the cloth of his briefs. The head peeked above the elastic waistband. I felt even worse now. Compared to his, my cock seemed like a little boy’s dick.

Joshua rubbed the cloth over his cock using the palm of his hand. I watched as the erection throbbed and twitched. He was nearing ejaculation. But then he stopped rubbing and began to suck me off again. He sucked with such wonderful skill that I knew he had done this many, many times. He used his teeth, tongue, and lips to make me moan with pleasure. He sucked on the head plenty, but took my dick to the back of his throat several times. He never gagged.

Finally, he brought me to orgasm and swallowed every drop of my cum. He continued sucking until I was completely drained and physically spent. The post-orgasm torture was wicked.

He sat back on his heels again, then stood up. He pressed his hands on my shoulders and forced me to my knees. He shoved his jeans and briefs down to his ankles and stood at full erection with his cock in my face. He pressed the head of his cock against my lips and tried to pry them apart, but I kept them sealed shut.

“I know you want it,” said Joshua. “Go ahead, suck it for me.”

He rubbed the wet tip back and forth across my lips as if he were applying lipstick from a tube. But I leaned away and kept my lips tightly shut. Apparently, he was going to ignore that third condition we set. He enjoyed tormenting me with his cock for a few more minutes.

“That’s okay,” he said. “Maybe not tonight, but you’ll taste it soon.”

He pumped his dick slowly, sliding his hand up and down the long shaft so deliberately. It began to swell and glisten. I could see every engorged vein popping from the shaft with each pass of his hand. In time, he rubbed harder and faster until he moaned loudly and shot hot cum all over my chest and chin.

He made me stay on my knees while he cleaned himself and dressed. His cum crawled down my chest and dripped from my chin, but by then it had grown cold. He brought me a dirty towel from the bathroom and draped it over my shoulders. He untied my hands and allowed me to clean myself with the towel.

I pulled up my pants and slid my tee shirt back on. As soon as he left, I took a hot shower, shampooed my hair several times to get the sticky Coke syrup out, and brushed my teeth for a long time. I got maybe an hour of sleep before the alarm woke me to get dressed for work.

The next week, Joshua stopped by again. It was late at night and without notice. But that was part of our deal. He could own me anytime he wanted. He hogtied me on the living room floor, gagged me with a rag and some tape, and watched television for a couple of hours. Then he stood me up with my hands tied behind my back as before, and sucked me off again. He ejaculated on my face and chest, untied me, and then left.

I didn’t hear from Joshua for a few weeks. I feared that he had found someone else and moved on. But finally he called me late one night. He said he loved our meetings, but he wanted me to be his sex slave.

I asked him what exactly he meant by that. He told me that not only did he want to dominate me (which I was fine with), to tie me up, torture me, whip me, which he loved doing (I was fine with that, too) but he wanted me to be a sex object for him, to be used any way he desired. He wanted to give me blow jobs (I was open to that) but he wanted me to give him blow jobs whenever he wanted, and he wanted to fuck me any time he wanted. He let it be known that he didn’t like using condoms, either.

That sounded scary to me. I still wasn’t ready for that. I told him that what I wanted was prisoner of war scenarios, where I was held prisoner and tortured for information. Or kidnap scenarios where I was held hostage and abused.

After a pause, he said he could live with that. I breathed a sigh of relief, and reminded him not to baby me. I wanted him to be brutal, ruthless, and merciless. Those were my exact words. I had no idea I would be eating them three days later.