By Mister-X / Spartan

I’m lying here on my bed tied up in a strangling hogtie. It’s almost time for me to be taken to Sonny’s ranch for their game. Sonny’s friends had been into my room the day before to prepare me for the trip, tying me up. My roommate Sonny had them do that to make sure that I would be going. He had made me an enticing offer should I go that I couldn’t refuse, but he still wanted to make absolutely certain that I would go. They knew the time when I’d finished my last final, and were in my room waiting for me. The trouble is that Sonny’s last final wasn’t until a day after mine, but they figured I could stay a full day tied up like that before the trip to the ranch.

Lying there with time on my hands, I remembered back to when it all started a little over a year ago. My dorm roommate Sonny suddenly said to me one day, “Smittie, you run track and you’re on the football team. You’re pretty fast on your feet and well built. And I heard that you don’t have any place to go during the spring break. We need someone for our game. You’d be perfect. How’d you like to visit my ranch during the spring break?”

I was a Freshman here in this Texas college on a football and track scholarship, and was living here in this dorm. It was the most my dorm roommate Sonny had talked to me. He spent his time with his rancher friends form the local area.

Those of us guys in the dorm were pretty much divided into two groups, the local Texas rancher guys and those of us who were not from here. There wasn’t much intermingling of the two groups, each group staying to themselves. It wasn’t discrimination as such, and there were whites, blacks and Hispanics in both groups. It was just that we each had our different interests, different lifestyles, dressing differently. I would wear a suit during the day; they would wear jeans, a western shirt and cowboy boots. It was a clash of cultures. We non-rancher types didn’t fit in with them. The only time Sonny and I dressed alike was when he put on a suit to go to church on Sunday.

So it came as almost a shock when he asked me that. I had to think a minute before answering him. He was right, I didn’t have anything going during the spring break, planning to just hang around here, getting some running in. At this time that was the prime exercising I was doing.

“As long as I’m able to get my required running done for my track training, then I’d like to see a real live Texas ranch. I haven’t seen one since I’ve been here.”

“Oh, you’ll get plenty of running in. And I’d be happy to show you around our ranch. I’m glad to hear that you’ll be able to join us. We’re looking forward to it. It will be an interesting experience for you. I’ll fill you in on particulars later so you can get packed and ready to leave with us.”

That was about a month before the start of the spring break. When it came, the weather had turned warm, and warm in Texas passes for hot in the rest of the country. I’d been told where to meet Sonny, and after I’d finished my finals I showed up with my luggage. Sonny put it into his pickup. There were several of his friends that were there as well, each with their own pickup, each, like Sonny, a tall, lean guy dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, western shirt, and cowboy hat. I stuck out, wearing my suit, but I’d been taught to look my best when visiting. We set out like a convoy.

The drive didn’t take that long, only about 100 miles. Periodically one of the other pickups would leave us, honking and waving when they did. When we finally turned off the main highway, the only one left was Sonny’s pickup. The drive to his ranch was only about another 5 miles.

I was impressed at the size of the ranch. I asked him how big it was, and he said “about 1,000 acres”. That equates to one and a half square miles. That’s big. But then, this is Texas. And there wasn’t a whole lot else around. We hadn’t been in a town for a number of miles before we got there.

When we drove up and stopped there were a few people gathered around to meet us. We both got out and Sonny removed our luggage from the back of his pickup, handing it to a couple of the guys who started carrying it into the house. One of the others came up to me and said “you must be Smittie. Welcome to the Bar-None ranch. We’re mighty glad you could come.”

That guy was older, and I wondered if he was Sonny’s father. They bore a family resemblance. He was also tall and lean, dressed in the same kind of clothes as Sonny and his friends. He took me into the ranch house and showed me which room I would be staying in. My luggage was already there, and I started unpacking. The room was spacious, and the bed looked comfortable. I figured I would be enjoying this visit.

As I was unpacking I heard voices out in the hallway. “He don’t look that big to be a football player. He looks pretty citified. Do you think he’ll do?”

“He’s a fast runner. That’s the main thing we need. And he’s got a thick bull neck, so there shouldn’t be a repeat of what happened last year.” I recognized Sonny’s voice.

I wondered what they meant. Sonny initially said something about needing me for their game, and I now wondered what kind of game they were talking about. I had assumed that they meant a football game, but now I wasn’t so sure. It still could be. I decided to forget thinking about it and continued my unpacking.

Pretty soon I heard the loud clatter of metal hitting metal, several times a second. Sonny came by. “That’s the dinner bell ringing. We have to make it pretty loud to let the ranch hands know as well. Come and get it.”

I followed the others into the dining room. A table had been set for about 20 people. There were bowls of food set out periodically along the table. I wanted to wash my hands first, and asked Sonny where I could do that. He showed me the bathroom.

When I came out most of the chairs had already been occupied. I sat at the nearest vacant one. I noticed a distinct smell of sweat. Someone near me had been working hard. People had already started dishing up their plates from the bowls, and as the bowls of food were passed by I would get some of the food as well before passing them on. The food consisted mainly of barbecued beef, potatoes, beans, and green salad. I’d noticed that this was the traditional food in this part of the country. Being at college I had already started developing a taste for it, though where I came from it was not the normal food, except for the potatoes and salad.

I started to eat, but noticed that no one else was doing so, even though they’d gotten their food before I did. So I stopped and waited like they did. When everyone was seated and had dished up their plates, the man who initially greeted me started saying a prayer. Everyone else had their heads bowed, so I did, too. After the ‘Amens’ were made we all started to eat.

The food was very good. I hadn’t dished up very much initially, and went back for seconds. I found that there wasn’t much left when I did. Oh, well. When everyone had finished, they still sat there at the table. Soon a couple of pies were brought out, as well as pie plates. Our dirty dishes were gathered up, and one of the servers started cutting the pie into pieces and putting them on plates, passing them to the nearest guy to start passing around. It was apple.

Everyone got a piece, and there were still some pieces left. It was also very good, but when I had finished, all the extra pieces were gone. The others seemed to have learned to eat quickly so they could get more. Being in training, I wanted to slowly eat my food so it would digest properly. I also didn’t want to overeat to put on extra pounds for the track season, so it was just as well that I didn’t have seconds.

During the meal the two on each side of me were carrying on a conversation with each other. I was ignored. The conversation was about the animals at the ranch, and since I knew nothing about them, it wouldn’t have done any good to be included, anyway, but I thought it a bit rude. I guess that wasn’t a concern to them.

When we’d finished and everyone got up, Sonny came over to me and said “I’ll show you around the ranch”. Soon we were outside. The sun was going down, but hadn’t set yet. He took me over to where the steers were branded. He showed me the corral where they were roped and brought in for branding. He showed me the horse barn. He showed me the open range where the cattle were grazing. It was a pretty big operation.

“Our game will start day after tomorrow. Ranchers from many miles around will be coming here to compete. It’s a regular yearly event that everyone looks forward to. We all appreciate you coming here to help us out. We wouldn’t be able to have our game without you.”

The men I saw at that ranch were lanky. I didn’t see anyone that I thought was in football shape. So I figured that the guys who were coming would be huskier than the ones that were here. But that reminded me of the key question I needed to ask Sonny.

“I need to get some running in every day for my track practice. Where would be the best place to do that?”

“We’ve got a race track that we sometimes run the horses around. That’s probably the closest thing we’ve got to what you need. I’ll show you where that is.”

I’d never run on a horse race track before. I figured that this would be a new experience for me. It would be dirt, something I ran on at high school, whereas I ran on cinder at the college. I’d been improving my speeds since starting college that year, and was interested to see whether the different surface would make a difference in my speeds. When Sonny showed me, I realized that it was pretty long. I asked “how long is it?”

“It’s exactly a mile on the inside.”

“Good. Then I can time myself against my normal mile times.”

“If you want, I’ll keep your times.”

“Thank you, that would be helpful. But I get up pretty early to get my running in. I’m not sure you’d want to get up that early.”

“Huh! Here at the ranch everyone gets up early.”

We headed back and got inside. I heard Sonny telling someone that I would be up early to run at the horse race track if he wanted to watch. I was wondering what was so special about a visiting football player who also runs track. I hadn’t set any records, or even come close to setting any.

I awoke the next morning at 5 am after a good night’s sleep. After a shower and dressing in my running clothes, I went out to the kitchen to see if anyone had put coffee on yet. I was surprised to see a bustle of activity going. The coffee pot had not only been on, but was about empty. Sonny was already up, and when he saw me he asked “ready to get started?”

“After I get my morning coffee.”

“I’ve already had my breakfast. Want some now?”

I shook my head back and forth. I didn’t want to have any food in me when I went running. I soon had my coffee and set out jogging toward the track. When I got there I first did some stretching exercises. Then I started jogging out onto the track. I noticed that there were already about a half-dozen people there to watch me. I found this strange.

I initially just jogged around a couple of times to get loosened and get my wind adjusted. Then I told Sonny to start timing me, and I took off running. That seemed to interest the bystanders. I was able to run pretty easily on that dirt track. I had my track shoes on, a pair of running shorts, and a tank top. My wind was good after my two jogging laps. I was able to run the mile pretty fast. After I passed Sonny I slowly stopped and came over to him.

“What was my time for the mile?”

“Four minutes, six seconds.”

That was about a second off my best time. I was satisfied. I stood getting my breath back.

The guy who greeted me came up to Sonny and said “you’re right. He’s fast. And with the tank top I can see he’s got a good build. I think he’ll work out well tomorrow for the game.” After saying that he walked away.

That was a curious thing to say about someone invited to a football game. Something wasn’t ringing true. I again started wondering. But by then my breathing was regular again, and I decided to start my next mile of jogging before getting serious for the mile after that.

I did the next mile a half second faster. I was only a half second off my personal best. I was pleased at how well I was able to run on this track.

When I’d finished my workout and was walking back to the house to take another shower, I noticed that the other five bystanders came back, too. They had only been there to watch me run. I wondered whether there might be some private betting going on about the game the next day, and they wanted to see how this new guy fared. I overheard a bit of conversation from them, and it sounded like they were indeed making a wager. But the things they were saying didn’t sound like football game terms, one of which was ‘I think he’ll win three times’, while another guy said ‘nah, I doubt if he’ll win any’. Win what?

My curiosity finally got the better of me, and I asked Sonny what type of game would be played tomorrow. He hemmed and hawed, and finally said that I would find out tomorrow. Now I was really curious.

My breakfast was apparently the last one to be served that morning. What they laid out for me was certainly a lot more food than I was accustomed to eating for breakfast. I told them that the food was great, but I was in training, and needed to keep my weight down, so couldn’t eat that much food. They understood, and weren’t offended when I only ate some of what they served me.

I found everyone to be friendly, though unsure of me. I obviously didn’t fit in to a ranch, and they could see that. The rest of that day passed uneventfully. Later Sonny told me that I wouldn’t need to do my exercising in the morning, that I’d be getting a lot of running in with the game. I’d already figured that, and hadn’t planned to do my morning running.

But I did decide that I needed to do stretching and jogging the next morning to make sure I wouldn’t get cramps. I also decided to exercise my upper body that night. Since it appeared that having a strong neck was one of the criteria, I needed to make sure that I exercised this as well. Sonny showed me where their gym was, and I got in another good workout, this time of my upper body. I needed another shower after that. Texas was not only hot, it was humid.

I got to bed early and got another good night’s sleep. When I got up at my usual 5 am the next morning and came out, I was ready for that early breakfast this time. I was again dressed in my track clothes. I was surprised to see all the cars with horse trailers that had arrived, with more coming all the time. Guys were unloading their horses and taking them to the corral. You don’t play football with horses. Was this a game of polo? Except that I don’t ride a horse.

All the guys who were taking them were dressed in normal Western clothes, not your normal polo clothes. And they all appeared to have that same kind of lean body as the ranch hands had here. I still couldn’t figure out what kind of game this was going to be.

After the visitors had deposited their horses they came into the house to meet their hosts and the other guys. Everyone seemed to know each other. I’d see occasional looks in my direction, with an occasional statement like ‘he looks like he’ll do’ and ‘Sonny picked a good one this time’. This was getting curiouser and curiouser. It was starting to look like the game was centered around me. But I had no idea what role I was supposed to play.

Most of the visitors had registered for the game elsewhere in the room and had gone to the corral. Soon they had numbers on their shirts. I noticed that the hosts had disappeared, accompanied by some of the visitors. After a couple of hours they returned, dressed in their Sunday finest. After changing back to their usual clothes, the guy I figured was Sonny’s father came over to me and said that it was time for the game to begin. I was taken out to the grazing area. There were a lot of others who were gathered around as spectators.

Sonny’s father had a microphone in his hand. He announced “Ladies and Gentlemen, let the game begin. The first contestant is Les Moore from Abilene.” There was scattered applause as he rode up on his horse. I still couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do and what role I was to play in this.

Then Sonny’s father turned off the microphone. He looked at his son and asked “are you ready?” Sonny was holding the timer in his hand. He said “I’m ready”. Sonny’s father turned to me and said “start running as fast as you can out into the field. Try to avoid that guy on the horse. You’ll have a ten second start. Get ready, get set, go!” I started running.

So this was it. I was to try to outrun a guy on a horse. This was ridiculous. I can’t outrun a horse. But I was willing to give it a try. After ten seconds the horse took off. The rider was twirling a rope above his head as he was racing toward me. I figured he was trying to lasso me. I was watching out of the corner of my eye, and just as he started to let the rope go I turned away. The rope missed me, bouncing off my shoulder, and the guy had his horse slow down and stop. I’d outwitted the first one. One for me.

When I got back I was a little winded, and had a big smile on my face. Sonny said “that was pretty clever for your first try. You made that guy look bad.” He also had a big smile on his face, and slapped me a good one on my back. I heard some murmuring among the crowd.

They told me to let them know when I was ready for the next go. Sonny’s father got on the microphone and announced who the next contestant was. When I was ready, I took off. After ten seconds the horse came charging at me with the rider twirling the rope above his head. Closer and closer the horse came to me. I was waiting for the guy to start to throw his rope at me so I could veer away, but he kept getting closer. Finally he was almost on me and threw. He was so close that when I reacted the rope was already around my chest. The horse came to a screeching stop, and I was jerked off my feet.

Immediately the guy got off his horse and came running to me. He grabbed my wrists and my ankles, pulled the end of the rope from where it was around my chest in the back and quickly wrapped it around my wrists and then my ankles, leaving just a couple of inches between. When finished he quickly got up and pumped his fist in the air. In the distance I saw Sonny’s father go to his son and look at the stop watch. He turned the microphone on and said “21.2 seconds. That’s the mark to shoot at.” There was scattered applause.

I was lying there tied up in a hogtie, and was thinking ‘that’s not fair. No one applauded me when I outwitted that first guy.’ And I wondered when I was going to be untied. The guy who had done the tying was walking back with his horse, leaving me there.

A couple of other guys on the side who I had thought were spectators came walking over to me and started untying me. One of them reached down between my legs, and noticed that I was sporting a hard-on. He got a smile and nodded to his companion, who also looked down and got a smile. I hadn’t realized that my secret would get out. I’d managed to keep my secret turn-on from everyone at college. I wondered how long it would take before that got back to Sonny, and how long before his friends back at college would know. I figured my life would start changing.

After I was untied I walked back to Sonny’s father, dusting myself off on the way. As I was doing so I discreetly checked to make sure that there was no wet spot on the front of my pants. I was again a little winded, and they let me get my wind back before starting to run again.

The next guy copied the same technique the previous guy had done, and got me hogtied, but he didn’t best that guy’s time. I still didn’t have a wet spot. But then came the one that got me.

When this guy threw his rope at me, it went around my neck and he jerked it tight as his horse skidded to a stop. That almost broke my neck. I heard an audible gasp come from the spectators when I was jerked off my feet by a rope pulled tight around my neck. After I had understood what the game was with that first guy I had worried about this happening, and when it was about time for each guy to throw his rope I would start to slow down and bow my neck to prepare. Like the others, when this guy got me on the ground he quickly pulled the rope back hard to rope my wrists and ankles close to the rope loop. I was bent back pretty severely in this hog-tie. Doing it that way he bested the time set by the others.

This time it wasn’t just the two guys on the side who came out to untie me. After the time was announced, Sonny and his father came out to make sure I wasn’t injured. Unfortunately, that’s when the wet spot showed up on the front of my pants. I had creamed my shorts from that one.

When Sonny and his father got there the other two were starting to untie me. They were looking between my legs and starting to snicker. After the rope was off from around my neck, Sonny asked “are you injured?”

I started twisting my neck around, and replied “no, it hurts, but it isn’t injured. But that was close.”

That was when Sonny wondered what the two were chuckling about and saw. He got a big smile on his face and said “looks like you got some enjoyment out of it at least.” I hadn’t realized until I saw what he was looking at when he said that. I looked down, closed my eyes and got real embarrassed. My face must have turned a bright red. The two ranch hands and Sonny all started laughing out loud when they saw my embarrassed reaction. Sonny’s father just stonily said “let’s get back to the starting line to prepare for the next entry.” This time when I appeared to be uninjured and was walking back there was scattered applause from the spectators.

There weren’t any incidents after that. I had modified my run to turn toward the horse when it was almost on me and was able to outwit two more of the ropers. So the guy who had estimated I would win three hit it correctly. By the time the game was finally finished I was exhausted. That guy who got me by the neck was the winner, hogtying my in the least time.

They had a custom after the game was over for the winner to put their human calf in the same position he was in when he won, so with the help of Sonny and the two who would untie me I was back with the rope tightly around my neck pulled back for my roped wrists pulled up a short distance from my neck and my roped ankles a short distance from my wrists. After I was properly positioned, I was carried into the house and set down at the front of everyone for the awards to be presented. Pictures were taken, including several with the proud winner poised over his victim holding up his trophy. They later gave me a copy of the picture they picked to print in the local paper. It focused on the winner, but also showed a noticeable bulge sticking up between my legs pushing up my running shorts.

After the ceremony was over and the participants started socializing, Sonny came up to me and said “it’s my task to untie you, but after what I observed I figure you’d enjoy remaining tied up. I’ll put you in your room that way and bring your dinner in to feed you.” I was too embarrassed to say anything.

Sonny kept his word. He fed me and left me like that overnight. My muscles were getting pretty sore, since they weren’t used to being in that position. When he came in the next morning I told him that I needed to get out to get my morning running done, that I was still in training. He responded by gagging me. Soon several of his college friends came by to see me. Sonny must have called them and filled them in on what had happened, and didn’t want to untie the rope until they had seen me. They were all laughing and joking about it.

Sonny finally let me out for my morning running. His friends stayed around and watched. After I was finished they followed me in. I immediately went into the shower to get cleaned up. When I came out I found that my clothes had disappeared. As I was looking around for them Sonny and his friends suddenly appeared and before I knew what was happening, I was tied up like I’d been yesterday, though this time also gagged. After doing that they looked down at my erect cock. One of them said “you’re right, Sonny. We’ve got us a queer, here. What should we do with him?”

“Nothing while he’s a guest here at my home. But he’ll be going back to college with me. That’s when we can have our fun. We’ll show him how we welcome queers in Texas.”

“Yeah, we gonna have us some fun.”

Sonny’s friends all got smiles as they started thinking about possibilities. I started getting nervous, thinking about some of the stories I’d heard about what had been done to gays in the west. They soon left to go back home. I was let out to go get breakfast. When I was finished, Sonny showed me around some more of the ranch and the nearest town. We were starting to get along now, starting to become friends.

The end of the spring break finally arrived, and I packed my things for the ride back to college, dressed in my suit and tie as usual. I was dreading what lay ahead for me. After Sonny and his family returned from church and got back into their casual clothes, Sonny was ready as well. His parents bade me farewell, and again thanked me for visiting, particularly since I was required for the game to be held. I thanked them for their hospitality. No mention was made of my embarrassing incident. Sonny drove off in his pickup. In a few miles, one of his friends pulled in front of us in his pickup. And a few miles later another did the same. After a fourth one joined the convoy as the new lead, they soon pulled off to the side of the road to an abandoned building. I realized that this was when I was going to get it.

Before Sonny stopped the others had stopped and had gotten out quickly to come over to my side of his pickup. One of them said “hey, fag boy, it’s time for us to have our fun with you.” He was holding up a rope that had a noose to show me when he was saying this. I was starting to panic. I tried to lock the door to keep them out, but as soon as I’d lock it, Sonny would push the automatic button on his side to unlock it. They got the door open and pulled me out of the pickup and quickly tied my wrists behind my back. I was yelling until they stuffed a bandana into my mouth while tying another around my head to keep the bandana gag in place. They dragged me into the abandoned building. After they’d gotten me inside they worked quickly, tying my ankles while they threw the other end of the noose rope over a rafter after they had yanked the noose tight around my neck. One of the others tied the other end of the rope to the side of the building after pulling me up erect onto my feet by it. They were hyper, and worked fast, laughing as they were tying me.

I’d been trying to fight them, but it was no use. Against four tall lean young ranch hands I was helpless, football player that I was. I was soon unable to move. They noticed another wet spot starting to form on the front of my pants. They unzipped my jeans and pulled out my erupting cock. They started hitting it, laughing as they were doing that. I was soon yelling into my gag. That got them laughing more. They found a piece of wood and started hitting my cock with that. I was yelling more. They used the wood to start hitting my butt. They hit it pretty hard, and the piece of wood broke in two. They were looking around for something else to use on me.

That’s when one of them got the idea of bringing my ankles up to my wrists in a hogtie. They quickly went about doing this. I was pulled off the ground, hanging by my neck. One of them said “what if he chokes?”, and Sonny said “after the way his neck was jerked when that horse stopped? This guy has one strong neck, so it will take a lot to get him to choke.”

I was having to bow my neck to keep from choking since I now had my full weight being supported by my neck muscles. I was starting to lose the battle as the noose kept getting tighter and tighter around my neck. Finally they could see my face getting beet red, and they undid the rope tied to the side and let me down. But they didn’t loosen the rope. Instead, they used it to pull my wrists up as close to my neck as they could get them before tying them there. I was still choking, this time from my wrists wanting to lower back down. It was worse than the position I was kept in at Sonny’s ranch. They noticed that my cock was erect again, but didn’t do anything to it this time.

They took me back out to Sonny’s pickup like that and put me in the back, covered by a tarpaulin. They got back into their pickups and started the drive back to college. I was relieved to be heading back to college, but was miserable in the back, having difficulty breathing, my eyes starting to get dry as they were bugged out, a headache starting to develop. I finally maneuvered my position to find something to push my wrists against. That eased the choking problem.

When they got to college they checked to see that I hadn’t gotten out of the ropes and took their things up to their rooms. They came back down and undid all the ropes except the gags and the one rope that kept my hands tied behind my back. They tied another bandana around the top of my short, thick neck to hide the rope burns and put a cowboy hat on me before walking me up to my room with my things. They were all laughing and joking about it. Others along the way were looking at me, this buff football player dressed in a suit with a bandana around his neck, wearing a cowboy hat, gagged by a bandana with hands tied behind his back, pulled along by some laughing cowboys, and figured we were just having fun, Texas style.

After I was taken into my room, they tied me up again in a hogtie and left me on my bed that way for the night. The next morning they came in and let me out of the rope. I had to quickly get ready for my morning run. When I looked in the mirror I saw an ugly red mark around my neck. I asked Sonny “how am I going to explain that?”

“Hide it with that bandana. If it should come off, just tell them that you were the calf in a calf-roping contest at my ranch, and one of the participants roped you around your neck and jerked you to a stop by that. It’s true enough. You should have seen your neck after it happened. Tell them you got in a lot of running trying to out-run the horses.”

“If I told my coaches that I’d probably lose my scholarship. He doesn’t want anybody doing things that are dangerous, risking injury. And what about when I’m in class? This bandana doesn’t go with my clothes.”

“You’re going to have to get some new clothes. You’re one of us, now. You need to dress like you’re in Texas.” Fortunately my coaches didn’t find out.

It was nice to hear Sonny say that I was one of them. I’m starting to fit in more here in Texas. I now dress like they do, wearing jeans, western shirt, cowboy boots, cowboy hat, with a bandana around my neck, initially to hide the rope burns, but now just to go with the persona. It was hard to get a shirt that fit me, a problem I’ve always had with my build, being on the short side with a thick neck. Shirts have always been chokingly tight around my neck, but not having to keep the collar closed like I would when wearing a tie helped me find a proper sized shirt. And these wouldn’t need to be starched for a good appearance as my white shirts would.

During that term Sonny’s friends would periodically come by to help him tie me up. They enjoyed putting me into a hogtie. And I would go out with them to the cafeteria or other places, always gagged with my hands tied behind me, something people here are now accustomed to seeing. At meals they would take out my gag and take turns feeding me. But they no longer do it because I’m gay; now it’s because I’ve become one of their friends. I’m the guy they practice their roping on. Sometimes I could get out, but not very often. I run track wearing the bandana. It’s become my trademark.

That was last year. This year, my sophomore year, we’ve continued our friendship. To make sure I don’t cream my jeans when tied up, something that had happened a lot last year, Sonny now keeps my cock locked in chastity, though he lets it out for me to shower, for football practice, and to cum twice a week. I’d strengthened my neck muscles after track season was over in preparation for football season, but as a Sophomore backup running back/wide receiver, I was rarely used in games. Being on the team was another big in to Sonny and his friends, since football is almost a religion in Texas.

I overheard Sonny and his friends actually bragging that I was a gay guy who was on the football and track teams that they regularly tied up, that I enjoyed it. I’m now tied up every night and weekends by Sonny and his friends, only let out on weekday mornings and put back in after I finish my studying. Periodically Sonny would bring some guys by to see me tied up like that. They’d all laugh about it.

There was another change in the routine after football season ended. Seeing me with that thicker neck, Sonny started towing me around by a noose rope pulled tight around my neck while I’m also gagged with hands tied behind my back. He calls it a Texas necktie. He’s taller than me and he likes to hold the rope high, yanking me up from my chair when it’s time to go. He and his friends get a kick out of it. They know that I’m turned on by it, but also know that my cock’s in chastity. The first time others noticed the noose in the cafeteria, one guy came over and loudly said “what’s going on? That’s dangerous.” I noticed a hush in the cafeteria when he said that.

Sonny responded by pulling me up higher in my chair at the cafeteria and said, “have you seen the size of his neck? He don’t get hurt by it. Besides, when we first started rooming together he told me that he doesn’t go out in public without wearing a necktie. Now that he’s wearing Texas clothes, he goes out in public wearing his Texas necktie.” His friends roared with laughter when he said that. Others in the cafeteria laughed as well.

I added, since my gag was out to be fed, “thank you for your concern, but I’m okay with it. It helps strengthen my neck for football. And it keeps me in an erect posture.” I didn’t know whether helping strengthen my neck was true or not, but it hasn’t bothered me.

This became the response when anyone would bring up the subject. Sonny now takes me everywhere like that when I’m not going to classes, exercising or at track meets. Some places have asked us to leave because their other patrons were bothered by it, but we’ve found places where it’s okay. It’s definitely helped me bond better with their group. They don’t go anywhere now without me. They even take me with them to church on Sundays, dressed in my suit.

They know not to take me to church with that noose around my neck, or gagged with my hands tied. And with that thicker neck, I could no longer get into my white shirts. Seeing this, Sonny ordered some new shirts for me that were custom made. When he told me, I thought that was very nice of him, and thanked him. But when I put one on he and his friends were waiting with big smiles. He had gotten them with a stiff, high, extremely tight collar that went up under my chin, with three buttons at the collar. This was their substitute for the noose. For church my Texas necktie is replaced with a regular one which they make sure is tied as tightly as possible.

As we were going to church, Sonny said with a smile “you obviously like the shirt.” He was looking down at my fly when he said that. His friends all laughed. I couldn’t look down with my neck in that vise, but I knew what he meant. That shirt was about as bad as the noose. But at church I got compliments on how nice I looked.

Everyone is now used to seeing me taken to and from the cafeteria held erect by a noose, gagged with my hands tied behind me, as well as the places we go to on the weekends. One of the gang gets to where we are going earlier than the others so he can finish eating and stand behind me keeping the noose pulled up, forcing my head up high while I’m seated. This way they can untie my hands for me to use to eat with so they don’t have to feed me. And when I’m riding in his pickup one of his friends is always alongside of me holding the rope up. Sometimes they pull it up too high and wait for my face to start getting red. Then they’ll lower it back down a bit, laughing at my discomfort. It’s all part of their fun. They usually also hit my cock when they do that, remembering my reaction at that abandoned house.

With Spring Break now approaching, Sonny said “you’re going to be the human calf in our game again this year.”

“I’m not going.”

“They’re thinking of changing the rules so that bringing you down by the neck would result in automatic disqualification so there wouldn’t be a repeat of last year’s incident.”

“That doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t happen again. My neck is now a lot stronger, but I don’t want to take the chance.”

“You have to go. We can’t have the game without you.”

“No.”

“I won’t take off your chastity until after the game is over. If you have participated, it comes off. If you haven’t it stays on for the rest of the year.”

He said the magic words. That was an offer I couldn’t refuse. I sighed. “Okay. You win. I’ll go.”

So here I was, tied up waiting for Sonny to finish his finals and leave. He told me I’ll be let out of the hogtie to be just tied and gagged when taken from my dorm room to his pickup, noose in place pulled up high, one of his friends sitting alongside of me in the pickup for the ride to the ranch holding the rope up, walked into an out-building that Sonny had the ranch hands set up for me with the noose pulled up, and kept on my feet with the rope pulled up over one of the rafters and tied to the side until let out for exercising and showering in the morning, returned afterwards. Sonny would feed me before putting the gag back in. He said he had to make sure I would be there for their game. He also is bringing my Sunday church clothes for me to join his family at church before the game.  The ranch hands will be coming and going out of the building I’ll be in, and will see me. I’ve long since lost the ability to be embarrassed by having others see me tied, gagged and noosed. It’s become my way of life here.

Sonny also told me that they decided not to change the game rules, that I would be allowed to be brought down by roping my neck, and that the other participants were planning to do it that way, copying last year’s winner’s successful way. I’d expected that, which is why I didn’t want to go. But the consequences of not going were too much.

This time all of Sonny’s friends are planning to stay at his ranch over the spring break. I overheard them say that they were looking forward to continue having fun with their ‘fag friend’ after the game was over. It was an indication of my importance to their group that three guys changed their plans for their week off just because I would be there. When one of them realized that I could hear them talking, he told me that they were going to brand me with the Bar None ranch brand the day after the game was over. They all laughed after he told me this. I think he was kidding. I sure hoped he was.

When I got there last year I overheard Sonny’s father telling him to get some shirts like I wore, that he would look much nicer in those. I’d noticed that after Christmas he was now wearing shirts to church that were much tighter and had a higher collar than he’d been wearing before, shirts like I wore. I was looking forward to what his father would require Sonny to start wearing to church after his father sees the shirt Sonny got for me. I don’t think he’d thought about that.

I realized that I not only now fit in here in Texas, I’ve become an essential part of the scene here. I started thinking about whether I wanted to remain here in Texas after I graduate from college. I never had friends where I grew up, putting all my spare time into improving my physical abilities, which resulted in my having a great body and some skills, but skills that aren’t sufficiently good for me to be able to become a professional athlete. I was going to have to rely on a career prepared by my field of study at college.

Now, for the first time, I have friends. Despite their harsh treatment of me, I’m actually enjoying this. And as I started thinking about it, I’m looking forward to battling wits and physical skills with the horsemen at this year’s game. My physical skills are as good as they were last year, perhaps even better. I realized that Sonny had been preparing me mentally and had done a good job of it. With being kept in that noose, I realized that I had to continue my neck-building exercises after football season was over, something I hadn’t done the previous year, concentrating exclusively on my running. I was now better prepared. My competitive juices started to kick in. Let the game begin!

Author’s note – This story is fiction. I don’t know if there really is a ranch called ‘Bar None’; it’s just a cute name I chose.

Metal would like to thank Mister-X / Spartan for this story!

By Mister-X / Spartan

They took it easy on me the rest of that day.  They knew what an ordeal I had just been through and that I needed some time to recuperate.  The big guy and I spent the day as usual, on the cot with his cock in my rear end, shooting off every few hours.

The next morning, after the usual feeding and emptying, the guards again took me away to the torture room.  And as before, they put the bag over my head and pulled the draw-string tight to cut off my air.  After passing out on the way, as before, I was finally taken in and stood.  My cuffs were removed and my wrists were cuffed to an overhead beam.  They were pulled up and apart as far as they could go.  Then I felt something attach itself to my ankles, and they started being winched up.  Before they got to where they were going, I passed out again.

When I regained consciousness, the bag was off and I could see.  My legs were cuffed to the ends of another bar behind me, and my body was hanging between the two beams, supported by my hands and ankles, which were hurting.  The guards were just finishing attaching wires to me.  I looked down and noticed wires attached to my tits, my chastitied penis, one leading behind me which I assumed was attached to my butt plug, and one to my collar.  I knew what that meant.  It was electro time.

In front of me was the machine that would be dishing out the electricity.  Smiley was at the controls.  Soon they were ready.  He set the readings at a little above medium.  He first tested the tits.  When he sent a jolt of electricity, I reacted.  He nodded, and turned that one off.  Then it was time for my chastitied penis.  Again I reacted, and he turned that one off.  Likewise he tested my butt plug and my collar.  They were all in working order.

He started off with random jolts to my tits.  After a couple of minutes, he would up the level.  Soon I started to yell into my gag.  At that point he made a notation in a little log book he kept, and turned that off.  He turned to me and said “no worry.  No demerit for this.”  Then he started on my chastitied penis, and again went through the progression.  He seemed to know when I was faking the yelling, so that didn’t do any good.  After he had found out the level that would elicit real pain in me, he got a big smile, nodded to his cohorts, and started in.

Of course, he would start at the intense level, and increase it.  He would vary the parts of my body that would receive the jolts, and he would vary the occurrences, and he would vary the intensities.  I never knew what he was going to be doing next, so I couldn’t plan for it.  I’d had electric torture before, but never as long, as intense, and as randomly done as this session was.  I was sweating buckets in that heat.  I didn’t think I had that much moisture still in me.  Eventually I started getting hoarse with all the yelling I did into my gag.

This session went on for hours without any breaks.  Finally, Smiley’s shift was over, and he turned off the equipment.  But I was left where I was for the night, spread eagle in the air, all the wires in place.  My wrists and ankles were quite sore from all my weight being suspended from them.  I had to try to get some sleep, but it was not the best position in which to do so.

I did manage to get some shut-eye in before Smiley returned the next morning.  By then my wrists and ankles were numb.  He immediately set about making sure that none of the connections had come loose during the time he was gone.  They were all still in good working order.  I went through another 8 hours of electric torture.  They also attached wires to some of my muscles, and they got a workout as well.  But it was my tits, penis and butt which got the bulk of the shocks.  By the time that session was over, I was a wreck.  I wondered whether I’d be able to have sex again.  And my nerves were shot.

When they let me down, I collapsed and couldn’t move.  That didn’t faze them.  I figured they were used to that.  They just put me in my normal prisoner garb again, put the bag over my head with the draw-string pulled, helped me to my feet, and started taking me back down the hall to my cell.  Again, I passed out before getting there, so they waited for me to regain consciousness before resuming the trip.  After I got back, had the bag removed and my ankles padlocked, I hardly had the strength to move over to the cot.  The big guy helped me, and when up on the cot, I immediately passed out into a deep slumber.

After the next morning’s feeding and emptying, the cleaning crew came for me for my weekly shower, milking and drink of water.  I was surprised that I was still able to produce cum after all the electric shocks I’d had to endure the previous two days.

But after getting cleaned, I got another surprise.  They put me back into the restraints that I was wearing when I arrived, the boots, the collar, the Darby cuffs, the pole, but not the blindfold.  I figured that meant that I was finally finished with this hell hole and would be returning home.  My spirits immediately started lifting.

After all the gear was put back on, a couple of the guards came by and marched me to another room.  My pole was locked onto a wall restraint, and I was kept standing there for about a half hour.  Finally a guy walked in who looked like he was in charge of the prison.  The other guards who were with me certainly came to a snappy attention when he entered the room.

He addressed me.  “Prisoner 08641, you are being discharged.  Your sentence is complete.  You are now to begin your probation.”  I had been looking forward to finishing my stay and torture.  I wondered what being on probation would mean.  I recognized the guy’s voice as the one who greeted me initially, saying he was the commandant of the prison.  He continued, “This is how all our prisoners are treated when their sentence is complete.”

The guy went on “Prisoner 08641, the Guatemalan government has an exchange agreement with the American government.  Any American prisoner who has been released from the Guatemalan maximum security prison is to have a guard from that prison accompany him and live with him in his home during his probation.  This reduces the expense to the American government.  The prisoner is required to pay the expenses of the Guatemalan guard.  You will have one of our guards accompany you and live with you at your home.

Your probation is to last one year.  You are permitted to work during your probation, but when not at work, your guard will keep you restrained as you have been here in this prison, at least, as best as we will be able to do in your home.”

On hearing this, I let out an involuntary gasp into my gag.  The guy immediately barked at me, “You are to remain silent!”  Then he continued “In order to keep you restrained, some of the restraints that you have been using here will be taken with the guard back to your home to have available.  On the trip back you will wear what you have on now.  Other restraints will be purchased in America at your expense.”  After he said this, he looked over at the guard standing aside who held up the chains and rope noose that I’d had on.  It was Smiley, and he had a big smile on his face.

“And the guard who will accompany you will have noticed special restraints during your stay here which you have particularly not enjoyed.  These will also be taken by him to put you in.”  With that, Smiley held up the heavy collar and chatlet cuffs that he had written ‘prisoner 08641’ on.

Just as I was thinking that when I got back to the U.S., I wasn’t going to go along with this, the guy said “In case you plan to not allow our guard into your home to enforce this probation, that will be considered a violation of your probation.  In that case, the American government will assist us in having you returned here to this prison for a longer stay than you have been here for.  I would not advise you to do this.  In addition to returning you here, we would have to inform your employer that you have been incarcerated in a maximum security prison and are being returned to continue your sentence due to a violation of your probation.  If you do not violate your probation, there will be no need to inform your employer.

After your year probation is finished, if there are no further violations, the guard will return here.  But you will be required to return here for a two week stay once a year for the next ten years, all at your expense.  Should you not do so, it will again be considered a violation of your probation, and the severe penalties will again apply.

The guard who will be accompanying you will be Juan Rodriguez, whom you have met.”  He looked over at Smiley, who nodded and smiled.  “You still have two demerits which have not been worked off yet.  Senor Rodriguez prefers to do that at some time while at your home.  You will have that to look forward to.”  At that, Smiley got a big smile on his face, as well as a bulge at the front of his pants.

“Guards, take the prisoner out to the waiting van to return him.”

The two other guards snapped to attention, heels clicking, and proceeded to unhook my pole from the wall and march me out through a couple of gates to where I was first admitted to the facility.  Smiley came behind carrying a couple of suitcases.

As before, when I got into the van, there were a few gasps.  Smiley came along as well, and took care of securing me to the van.  I certainly had a lot to think about on the long van ride to the changing facility.

When we got to the changing facility, I was kept secured in the van.  Smiley got off and returned with my little carry-on case that contained my belongings.  He started going through them, and removed several items which he placed in his pockets.

When we got to the airport, I was released from the van and taken into the airport, still in restraints and attached to the metal pole.  Smiley accompanied me in his guard uniform which said “Maximum Security Prison” on the back.  We certainly got a lot of stares from the others in the airport.

Smiley gave the airplane tickets to the attendants, including the one I’d paid for, and told them that he was escorting a prisoner back to the United States, giving them papers to review.  All the time in the airport terminal I was kept in the restraints, the metal pole, cuffs and gag.  The blindfold had been removed at the changing area.  A lot of other passengers were looking askance at me and avoiding me.  We went to a special waiting area, and I was still kept in the restraints, just like any normal prisoner.  My ankles were padlocked together until it was time to board the plane.

On the airplane I was still kept in my restraint garb, the ankle cuffs padlocked by Smiley, who sat next to me and strapped me into my seat.  With the gag in, I was not able to eat any food or drink any liquid.  We sat at the back of the plane, and when it landed, we sat until all the other passengers had departed before we got up and left.

When we got to customs, Smiley again went through the process of bringing back a prisoner, giving them papers to review.  The process went quicker than for normal passengers.  One of the customs officials took a good look at me, at what I was in, and remarked to his buddy “Now that is how to secure a prisoner when being transported.  If Hannibal Lechter had been secured like that when being transported in the movie ‘Silence of the Lambs’ he would not have gotten away.”  The other guard replied “but then the movie wouldn’t have been as entertaining.  Hannibal the cannibal wouldn’t have been able to have that ‘friend for dinner’.”

Fortunately, I didn’t see anyone I knew, not that they would have recognized me.  When Smiley got his luggage, I had to direct him to where my car was parked, even though he was leading me.  When we got to my car, he laid me down in the back seat, padlocked my ankle cuffs, and got into the driver’s seat.  Somehow he knew how to get to my home.

I have a garage, with a door opener in the car and an entrance into my home from the garage.  When we got inside the garage and the door closed, Smiley went into my house and left me in the car.  He was quite a while, but finally came out to lead me inside my home, still restrained as I’d been since leaving the cleaning and milking facility at the prison.

Smiley had found my bondage gear, as well as a few of my more interesting gear, such as a small cage, and decided to restrain me further.  He set me down on the floor in front of the cage, locked a metal collar on, attached a short chain from the back of my collar, through my padlocked ankle cuffs, and up to attach to my cuffed wrists.  I was in a pretty severe hog tie.  Then he pushed me into my little cage and padlocked it shut.  The pole was sticking out the front.  He told me that I would be here until the next morning, that this would be how I would now be kept every night, and to try to get some sleep.  Then he went into my bedroom to undress and get into my bed.

This was certainly not how I had envisioned my vacation from my stressful job to be like.  While I like to be in severe bondage, this was far, far more than I had envisioned being subjected to.  My month vacation still had a couple of days to run.  The next morning Smiley brought me a plate of food, which he placed in front of me to eat after opening the door of the cage and removing my gag.  He asked me what my work schedule was, and I told him.  So he knew that there were a couple of days yet before I had to return to work.  He let me out of my restraints briefly to get cleaned up.  But he’d found my full body rubber cat suit, and told me that when at home I was to now always be wearing that.  He put the restraints back on me over the cat suit.

Later that day I heard him get into my car and leave.  He was still dressed in his prison guard uniform.   He returned with a lot of clothes.  I figured that they were all for him to wear, but I was wrong.  Smiley had also gotten a hook which he attached to the ceiling.  Soon I was strung up again in a noose on my tiptoes with the big gag back in my mouth and a weight hanging down my back.  Periodically Smiley would get his kicks hitting me with a paddle and a cane.  At night I would be lowered and placed back in the cage.

When I was finally able to go to work, after doing my morning ablutions and shower, something that Smiley now allowed me to do every morning, Smiley led me out to the garage where he had laid out clothes for me to wear.  They were not ones that I recognized as being mine.  They were all the size that I’d reported on that form, much smaller than I normally wore.  The shirts were heavier than I normally wear, and the suit was a three-piece with a tight vest.  The pants were also tight, and I had to be careful not to have the butt plug show.  At least the vest covered up the tit clamps.

After I was dressed in the tight fitting clothes, he brought out a form for me to sign.  It was a Power of Attorney form.  He said that my available cash had just about run out, and he needed to be able to access my checking account to get more.  It was still early for me to go to work, so I drove him to a notary to have the form filled out properly.  Then I drove him back to my home and left for work.

My boss greeted me with “Welcome back.  Those are pretty fancy clothes you’ve got on.  You look better now than when you left.  It looks like your vacation has improved you.  You must have enjoyed it.”  I didn’t reply, but just smiled.

It seemed strange to be able to use my hands to feed myself.  All my meals at the prison and now at home were with my hands restrained.  In fact, it seemed strange to be able to use my hands at all.

My boss soon told me that he’d assigned me to an easier assignment than my previous stressful one.  And while doing it I was to mentor a young guy who had joined the company and was to learn the job that I did, since they had need for more than one person in this type of work.  When I met the guy, I was surprised.  He seemed to have a relationship with my boss that was more than you would expect from a new-hire.  And he was very impressed with me.

He told me he liked my clothes, that he wanted to start wearing similar ones, and wanted to know where I’d gotten them.  I told him that a guy I was living with at home had purchased them for me, and I didn’t know where he’d gotten them.  He asked if he could come home with me and ask him, and I told him that I’d have to first get the guy’s permission for him to do that.  I was starting to get nervous at how this was turning out.  Later that day my boss came by and told me that the new hire had told him about his wanting to get clothes just like the ones that I wore, and suggested that both of them drop by my house to visit with us both.  I told him the same thing that I’d told the new hire, that I’d have to ask the guy at home first.

When I got home and found Smiley waiting for me in the garage, I told him what my boss and the new hire wanted.  Smiley agreed to let them come to my house for the four of us to meet.  He said that he would act like a normal friend and not as my probation officer, keeping that information from the people I worked with.  But I was still uncomfortable with this.  After all, there are so many telltale signs at my home if the two should start looking around it.  I told Smiley that this was going to be a problem and that I was very uncomfortable with it.  He said that after the meeting with the two from work, it was probably time to work off one of the demerits.

So I had two things to worry about that night while I tried getting some sleep, bound as I was in that little cage.  To make matters worse, it was a hot day and Smiley chose to keep the air conditioner off, so that I was sweating buckets into my rubber cat suit.

To be continued …

By Mister-X / Spartan

The next day I informed my boss and my co-worker that it was on for them to come to my home that evening after work to meet my house mate and ask him where he got my clothes.  During the day, my co-worker seemed interested in how I enjoyed wearing such tight clothes and whether it got me sexually excited.  He finally asked me if I was gay.  When I told him I was, he said he thought so, and that he was too.  Then he asked me if my house mate was my dom, and I told him that he was.  He told me that my boss was his dom!  That gave me some pause, and started me thinking.

Later in the day my boss came by and told me that my co-worker had told him what we’d discussed.  He said he was looking forward to meeting my house mate so that they could exchange ideas about how to treat their subs.  I just shook my head back and forth and told him that my house mate was probably far too severe for their liking.  My co-worker just smiled and said that he liked things to be very severe, which was why he wanted to find out where I got my confining clothes.

They then both said that I must be into bondage.  I told them that I was kept constantly in bondage when I was at home.  They were surprised to hear this, and both said that they wanted to see all that I was put through.  It felt good that it was out in the open about that part of my life to my boss and co-worker, who would obviously keep it quiet from the rest of the people at work, but I was a little concerned that they would want to come by regularly and involve themselves with my probation.

When we arrived at my home that evening, the gear was not set up in the garage as usual.  After I had introduced my boss and co-worker to Smiley, I told him that the two were now aware that I was kept in bondage all the time that I was at home, and that they wanted to see what I was kept in.  Smiley just said “good”, and went to get the gear that I was normally kept in.  So my boss and co-worker got to see me in the rubber cat suit with attached hood, plug gag, collar, and cuffs.  They even got to see the tit clamps and chastity after I’d removed my work clothes.  My co-worker told my boss that he wanted to be kept the same way at home, with tit clamps and chastity also on when he was at work.  My boss just looked at him and got a big smile.  He turned to me and said, “Thank you”.

We had dinner that evening which Smiley fixed.  My boss and Smiley ate at the table, while my co-worker and I ate off plates on the floor with our hands cuffed behind us.  After we finished, we both had our faces cleaned off and had plug gags strapped on.  Then Smiley started showing the other two the various gear and devices I had, some of which I’d already experienced there at my home and some of which I hadn’t yet.  With each one Smiley would put me in it.

The first hit was when he strung me up by the noose and pulled me up onto my tiptoes.  My co-worker immediately wanted to try that.  My boss was reluctant, not having had any experience in it.  So Smiley pulled the rope up and lifted me into the air until I passed out.  When I came to, both my boss and co-worker were very impressed.  I tried speaking then, and Smiley removed my gag so that I could.  I told them that it takes much exercise to build up a person’s neck muscles so that they can take the weight, that it isn’t just being able to handle the air being cut off, and that I suggested that it would have to be something that my co-worker would have to build himself into before he could try it.  My co-worker was disappointed to hear this, but understood.

Then we moved on to other devices and restraints.  Smiley strapped my gag back on, and we moved to my little cage.  Smiley strapped the pole back on me, put me into the chained hog-tie, and pushed me into the cage, telling them that this is how I am kept every night.  Both my boss and co-worker couldn’t believe that I was kept that way every night, and my co-worker told my boss that he wanted to be kept this way every night as well.  My boss said that if this was what he wanted, he would try to accommodate him, but it would mean no backing out, but would be permanent.  My co-worker immediately agreed to this.  I was thinking that he doesn’t realize what he’s getting himself into.

I was left in the cage while Smiley showed the others around, demonstrating other devices.  He showed them the one that I particularly didn’t like, the extra tight 4 inch high metal collar with my hands brought up behind me in a reverse prayer position and padlocked to the collar.  My co-worker wanted to try that out.  Smiley expected that, and told him that if this is what he wanted to try, he would oblige if my boss agreed.  My boss was willing, so Smiley put rope loops around my co-worker’s wrists and started the process of bringing them up behind his back and into the reverse prayer position.  He finished doing this and screwed the chatlet cuffs on, then brought out the metal collar to put around my co-worker’s neck.

When my co-worker saw the collar he let out a gasp, but was ready to try it on.  Smiley had to work it a bit, but not as much as he had to do with me, as my co-worker’s neck is smaller than mine.  My co-worker had to lift his head and chin up as high as he could so the collar could be put on.  He started having some breathing problems, as I did, and he didn’t even have the plug gag strapped on.  Finally Smiley padlocked the two together and stepped back.  He then realized that there was one piece missing, and got a plug gag which he strapped on tightly.

My co-worker started having the same problems that I have when in that contraption.  His arms started wanting to drop down, and if they do it starts the strangling.  Smiley was explaining this to my boss, saying that the person that has this on has to find some place to push his elbows back up to relieve the stress on the neck.  My co-worker went over to an arm chair and rested his elbows on the back of the chair to push them up.  Smiley said that he was planning to have this on me this coming weekend, if they wanted to stop by to see how extremely difficult it is for long term use.  They immediately accepted the invitation.  My heart sank as I thought about this, both from having that device back on again and from having the two people from work see me struggle in it.

Smiley removed it from my co-worker.  But he left the gag strapped on and the cuffs on my co-worker.  We all noticed that there was a noticeable bulge in the front of my co-worker’s pants with a growing wet spot.  Smiley got a big smile when he saw that.  Smiley took them to other parts of the house to show them more, but they were out of my range of hearing, so I couldn’t hear what else he was showing them.  After a while they returned, and my boss said that he thought that store would still be open, so they should get there to get started with the clothes that my co-worker so badly wanted.  With that, Smiley removed the cuffs and gag from my co-worker, and they left.

Smiley came over to me and said, “Nice people.  Looks like they will be spending a lot of time visiting here.”  Then he turned off the lights and left the room.  I’d noticed that he was using my computer a lot to surf the internet, so I figured that this is what he was doing now.  The house was hot again, and in my rubber cat suit, restrained as I was, it was difficult to sleep.  But at least the first of my concerns had passed reasonably well, and I finally dropped off to sleep.

The next day my co-worker arrived dressed similarly to me.  He was proud as a peacock.  When we were alone he also showed me his chastity and tit clamps.  He said that the tit clamps hurt like hell, but he would eventually get used to them.  He also said that the chastity was going to take some getting used to.  I asked him if his had internal spikes like mine did, and he was immediately taken aback.  His obviously did not, and he was thinking about whether he wanted to wear one that did.  Before he could decide to do so I told him to get used to wearing the one he had on before moving further into having a spiked chastity.  He finally agreed, since it was getting difficult for him to get used to wearing the one he had on.

Work went along reasonably well.  My co-worker was bright enough to be absorbing all that I was telling him about what was needed for him to do my job.  And the fact that we had another interest as well helped our relationship.  It also helped that our boss was aware of this extra relationship.  But I was still somewhat apprehensive about this coming weekend’s bondage.

Finally Saturday arrived.  After eating breakfast off the plate in front of my cage and having the plug gag strapped back on, Smiley told me it was time to work off one of the demerits.  He forced the heavy metal collar into my neck before locking it closed, and started bringing my hands up behind my back to put them in the reverse prayer position.  After a while, I was back in my most feared bondage position.  I had the padlock off my ankle cuffs, so was able to walk around.  I had to periodically find something to rest my elbows on to keep from strangling.  Smiley, meanwhile, after watching me for a while, went off to take care of cleaning up the dishes from breakfast and taking care of other matters.

This went on for a couple of hours, me being miserably uncomfortable, when the doorbell rang.  Smiley told me to get the door, which I was able to open with my hands by bending down with my back to it.  It was my boss and co-worker coming over to see me in my discomfort.  My co-worker had on a rubber cat suit like mine with attached hood, metal collar tightly around his neck with a ring in the back, hands behind his back in Darby cuffs, ankles in cuffs with a foot long chain between, and a chain pulled taut connecting the Darby cuffs with the collar, pulling his head back into an always upright position.  He had a plug gag strapped on.  After they got into the house, my boss padlocked my co-worker’s ankle cuffs together as mine are normally kept when in one spot.

I was walking around, trying to find some position to rest my elbows on to relieve the strain on my neck.  The three of them all watched me for a few minutes.  Then Smiley brought out a blindfold which he put on me, saying that by now I had to be familiar with where all the objects were in the house for me to find to relieve my stress.  I wasn’t expecting this, and panicked a bit at first.  But I decided to suppress the panic and think about where places were, and started finding them to relieve the stress.  Periodically Smiley would lead me away from one of them to the middle of the room, or to another room, and have me try to find something.  It turned into a bit of a game, only with my ability to breathe at stake.

The others were starting to get into the spirit of the game.  My boss started taking a turn taking me to another part of the house for me to try to find my way to find something to place my elbows on to relieve the stress.  A couple of times I accidentally bumped into my co-worker, since they also moved him around without my knowing it.  Once I knocked him over and tripped over him.  They helped both of us up and I had to continue my search blindfolded.

After an hour or so of this, Smiley brought out the bag that they had used toward the end of my stay at the prison.  He explained that with the draw-string pulled closed it would cut off my air, and that in a minute I would faint.  He also said that this was a normal part of our play, that I’d had this done many times.  With that said, he put it over my head and pulled the draw string closed as he again pulled me out to another part of the house.  I started panicking again.  Now I not only had to find a place to rest my elbows on to relieve the stress on my neck, but I had to find some way to release the draw-string on the bag as well.

The first time I actually managed to not only find a place to rest my elbows to avoid strangling myself, but was able to loosen the draw-string to get some air.  So Smiley retied the draw-string to make it more difficult to loosen and took me to another part of the house, one I hadn’t been in since I returned from Guatemala.  This time I couldn’t find anything to either relieve the stress on my elbows or release the draw-string, and I fainted.

When I came to, the bag was still over my head with the draw-string loosened and my elbows supported.  Smiley let me get my wind back and rest a bit before getting me back on my feet, pulling the draw-string tight again, and setting me off on my blind search.  I had no idea what part of the house I was in.  I again could not find a place to support my elbows or to loosen the draw-string, and fainted.  After I regained consciousness, Smiley said that it was time to give me a little rest.  He removed the bag and put me restrained as I was in the little cage.  He attached chains to my elbows to pull them up to lock them to the cage.  He also locked chains around my knees and stomach to the cage, as well as my ankles.  I could hardly move a muscle.  I was still blindfolded.

My boss apparently removed the padlock from my co-worker’s ankles and also removed the gag from him.  He told my boss that he’d also like to be chained in their cage, now that they have one that he spends every night in, and he’d also like to experiment with one of those bags over his head with the draw-string as I’d had done.  My boss just said that that kind of play was very dangerous, but if he wanted to try it, he would do his best.

Then my boss told Smiley that he was amazed at the contraption that I had on, and that I was still able to keep up after all this time.  He asked Smiley how long he planned to have me in it, and Smiley replied that I was going to be in this the whole weekend.  That was certainly news to me, and I let out a gasp.  Both of them heard it, and Smiley came over to me and told me that I’d just earned another demerit for that outburst.  He told my boss and co-worker that I was not allowed to make any unsolicited sounds, and when I did, it was a demerit.  The demerits were worked off with being placed in extremely stressful bondage, which I was in this weekend to work off a previous demerit.  On hearing this my boss and co-worker looked at each other, and my boss said, “I think I’ll implement a similar system.”

They left shortly after that.  I was still trying to adjust to hearing that I was going to be kept in this awful stressful bondage for the rest of the weekend, and that I’d just earned another demerit.  Smiley came over to the cage and said that it was time to get me out again.  He removed all the chains and got me out of the cage to resume my walking around again.  But this time Smiley brought out his paddle and cane and started periodically beating me whenever I would stop to put pressure to keep my elbows up to relieve the stress on my neck.  He would stop when I would start walking around again.  Finally, we both noticed that I was able to keep my elbows up without need of any support.

At this point, Smiley took me over to the hook, attached a chain to it and to the hook at the back of my collar, and pulled me up to tiptoes.  He left the room, turning off the lights, going to what used to be my bedroom.  I figured I was going to be kept like this for the night, which I was.  The chain from the hook in the ceiling put enough pressure on my arms to keep them from dropping down, so I was able to get some sleep.  The next morning, Smiley removed my gag to feed me after admonishing me not to speak.  He also emptied my penis and gave me that to drink.  Then he re-strapped the gag and released me from the chain hanging down from the hook.  So I was back to having to find a place to support my elbows again, since my muscles weren’t strong enough after the night’s rest to do that on their own.

After a few hours, I was able to keep them up on my own.  Soon I was starting to enjoy this bondage position.  I was left to roam around my house, and I started exploring.  It was the first time I’d been able to do so since returning from Guatemala.  Smiley was taken by surprise at first by my ability to maneuver in this stressful position, but he saw the pleased look on my face and realized that I had conquered my most difficult bondage position.  So he was pleased as well at my progress.  That evening Smiley got his rocks off in my butt.  I’d been wondering when that would start happening.  It was the first of what was to become a regular process.  After servicing the big guy at the prison, I didn’t mind.

Smiley learned that what seemed to get me most aroused was when my breath was cut off.  He told me that he would remove my chastity for me to get my rocks off by putting that bag over my head and pulling the draw strings, waiting for me to cum.  If I passed out before cumming, he would loosen the draw strings until I regained consciousness, and repeat the process.  This would continue until I came.  He set the frequency at three times a week, just after he would enter me.  I would have preferred to get my rocks off more often, but this was a lot better than being constantly kept in chastity.

When I returned to work the next day, both my boss and co-worker wanted to know the details of what else I’d been through and how it turned out, whether I was indeed kept in that the whole weekend.  When I told them that I had been, they just marveled at my ability to endure.

Work progressed.  My co-worker had some mood swings as he was having trouble adjusting to being kept every night in that cage and having to wear tit clamps and chastity underneath his rubber cat suit at home and under confining clothes at work.  It wasn’t quite the fun time he’d expected after a few months.  The two became regular weekend visitors to our home, and sometimes after work as well.

Smiley and my boss became good friends, exchanging ideas.  My boss at Smiley’s urging decided to keep both me and my co-worker in bondage during the lunch hour at work.  So in addition to being always kept in bondage at home, I now was at lunch time at work.  At least I didn’t have to drink piss at work.  The only time my hands were now free was when I was working.

Periodically I would find out what devices my boss would try out on my co-worker from little comments he would make.  One day it was “I hate that bag”.  Another day it was “How long can your shoulders stand having chatlet cuffs on behind your back with your hands palm-to-palm?”  He was learning that it isn’t just a bed of roses when you are constantly put in severe bondage.

My life consisted of my bondage at home, my work, Smiley, my boss and co-worker.  There was nothing and no-one else in my life.  I was no longer able to socialize, being kept in bondage during the lunch hour, and having to go straight home after work.  Being on my own to go to work, I could have just left and disappeared, leaving all this punishment behind, though running the risk of having to return to that prison for much more.  But I’d become that acquiescent person the prison had tried to make me into, wanting to be kept in bondage, so I just fell into the routine and kept going.

Surprisingly, after several months of this, I was starting to like it and started looking forward to getting home from work.  The severe treatment was a lot easier to take in my own home than at that prison.  In a way, I was now living in my bondage fantasy world.  I was starting to crave the severe punishment just as Hans had predicted.  And Smiley would periodically come up with some new type of torture for me.

One Friday night starting the next three-day holiday weekend, Smiley told me that it was time to work off another demerit.  He said that he’d gotten an idea from reading a story on the internet entitled “In Custody” on the heavybondage’s blog* site.  He decided to replicate the bondage position that prisoner was put in with some additions to the gear I already would have on.  He said my boss and co-worker would be by that evening to help restrain me, and that my co-worker would probably want to be similarly restrained.  He said that I would be kept this way all weekend while he and my boss enjoyed themselves at a local affair for doms.

I, of course, had no say, and was interested to see what position I would be put into.  I knew it would be strenuous, as working off every demerit was.  But before my boss and co-worker arrived, Smiley gave me an enema and put a catheter on me.  Smiley had been purchasing a lot of equipment, and I guessed that the ones I’d be put into that I hadn’t already owned would have been purchased by him.

Soon my boss and co-worker arrived with the cage that my co-worker is kept in at night.  He had been told that he would be in his cage next to me in mine.  Then Smiley started putting me into the position described in the story.  I was positioned in front of the opened cage.  I already had the penis gag strapped tightly over my mouth, the metal collar tightly around my neck, Chatlet cuffs on my wrists with the attached ring, arms extending straight down behind my back, and the hood of the rubber cat suit tightly around my head.  Smiley first put a leather strap around my arms above my elbows and pulled it tight so that my elbows were almost touching.  He padlocked the cuffs on my ankles and pulled them up to my wrists, padlocking them to the ring at the wrist cuffs.  My boss had to help him push me to get my body close enough for the padlock to be put on.  I was in a severe hog tie.

Then he brought out a leather arm binder sleeve which he wrapped around my arms above the wrist cuffs and started pulling the strings tight to wrap my arms in.  This went up the length of my arms, and the final part was to wrap the strings around both shoulders and tie them under my arm pits.  There was an extra leather cover over the strings which was zipped up and padlocked, so that the strings were completely covered.  My arms weren’t coming apart.

Next Smiley wrapped some leather around my bent legs which had attached D-rings, and connected ankles to thighs.  My legs weren’t moving either.  He put a head harness over my head, pulling all the straps tight.  Then he put a leather sensory deprivation hood over my rubber hood, head harness and plug gag, pulling the straps tight to cut off hearing, sight, and further restrict speech.  I had two different straps around my neck over part of the metal collar.  The next part was to attach a chain to the back of an uncovered part of my metal collar and pull it tight to padlock it to the ring attached to my wrist cuffs.  My head was pulled painfully back.  My collar dug into my neck, and my breathing was becoming difficult.

Finally Smiley, with the help of my boss, moved me into the cage.  Smiley then chained my knees to the back of the cage and my collar ring to the front.  I couldn’t move anything.  He closed and locked the cage.  He said that I was to stay like this until Tuesday morning, with no food and drink and no emptying.  I wasn’t looking forward to this.  Smiley said it wasn’t an exact replication of the story, particularly since the prisoner was to be kept like that for 60 days, but close enough.

My co-worker kept saying, “Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd” as Smiley kept adding more and more restraints.  He finally said, “That is the most extreme bondage I’ve ever seen.  Can I be kept like that as well this weekend?”

My boss said, “You heard what was said.  If you are put into this, you will be kept like that until Tuesday morning.  You will get no food, no drink, and will not be emptied out.  Do you still want to do that?”

Smiley popped up “I administered an enema before you got here, and put a catheter in as well.  If he wants to be kept like this, the same will have to be done.”

My co-worker said, “I’m willing to go through all that.  I just want to experience this.”

My boss said, “Very well.  Just remember that this was your decision.”

So my co-worker was given the enema, the catheter, and was put in this extreme bondage position as well, being put into his cage alongside mine.  I was curious to see how he would be able to take this.

When Tuesday morning came, Smiley let us both out.  I was tired from the ordeal, but just went through the normal routine of getting ready to go to work.  I’d been through worse at that prison.  But my co-worker was too exhausted to do so.  He needed some time to recuperate.  Our boss had left my co-worker’s clothes at my home for him to get dressed to go to work, but I left him at my home and drove to work without him.  He didn’t come to work that day.  I was just happy to have worked off another demerit without acquiring another one.

My bondage life continued, being on “probation” from the Guatemalan prison.  The prison authorities had me come up with a testimonial for their Bondage Fantasy World site to entice others to opt for the maximum prisoner package.  It wasn’t something I would voluntarily do, but I was afraid of what would happen to me if I didn’t.  They took a few pictures of me to add.  At least the pictures were of me in severe positions, so they would give someone an accurate idea of what to expect.

Smiley, of course, was very pleased with the luxury that he was experiencing at my home, all at my expense.  He started making good use of my computer.  He’d gotten those extra restraints he’d planned on, ones which I would experience on weekends, as well as more gear, all at my expense, of course.  But he was turning into someone that I was enjoying putting me into bondage.  I was wondering whether I should offer to keep him here as my permanent dom after the year is up.  I think that is what he is hoping for, being easier on me here than in the prison.

Keeping him as my permanent dom was not an easy decision for me to make.  If I don’t, he could make it very difficult for me.  And if I do, and I sign a contract to that effect, he could also make it very difficult for me, reverting back to the extreme sadist he was at the prison.  I still hadn’t worked off that last demerit yet.  I still had that hanging over my head, so to speak, even after six months, as well as a two-week return trip to the prison, assuming I don’t screw up and make it a longer stay.  Periodically, after spending some time reading a story on the internet, I would catch Smiley looking at me with that big sadistic smile he has, and wondered what torture he’s thinking of putting me through and when it would occur.

So I decided to imagine my life without being kept in bondage at home.  I didn’t think I could live that way again like I used to.  It was now normal for me to be in bondage.  Plus I now looked forward to being in severe bondage.  I guess I’d become what that prison wanted to make me become.  That realization made my decision obvious.  The only question was when I would ask Smiley to move in permanently as my dom.

Then I got hit with one at work.  My boss and co-worker asked me where I’d met Smiley, and how I’d come to get into such intense bondage.  So I told them about the Bondage Fantasy World web-site, and that I’d opted for the maximum prisoner package for my month’s vacation.   I also was required to return there for another two-week stint every year for the next ten.  That got both of them to thinking.

The next day my boss in front of my co-worker asked whether I would recommend it as something that my co-worker should do, since they had looked at the site and had seen my testimonial.  I didn’t know what to respond.  I told them that it was far worse than they could possibly imagine, but that I’d gotten the severe bondage I’d craved, and now want more, but that not everyone would even make it through alive, since they treat you as a hard-core prisoner concentrating on giving you what you hate most.  I said that Smiley was one of the guards there, and was sent to be with me for the next year as part of their required probation, and that even he didn’t know that I’d gone there voluntarily.  I said that what Smiley was doing to me at home was only a sample of what I’d been put through.  I told them I would have to think about my recommendation.

I couldn’t sleep that night, wondering what my recommendation should be.  Should I send my co-worker there to go through that torture as I had done, or shouldn’t I?  I could see a lot of myself in him, but that was such a harrowing experience, one that completely changed my life, and will mark me.  Finally I decided to tell my co-worker that I thought he was almost ready mentally, but had a lot of work to do before being ready physically.  I decided to recommend that he take some time to build himself up more so he could deal with that harrowing experience. Then, when he thought he was ready, it would be a good test for my co-worker to go through all the tests that Dr. Gustov had given me, to find out what he hates most, and have Smiley arrange for two weeks worth of focused punishment at my house based on the test results.  After that he could decide whether he wants to go through that Bondage Fantasy World maximum prisoner package.

Would you want to go through that, after having read this story?

THE END

Metal would like to thank Mister-X / Spartan for this amazing story! And thanks to the many Metalbond readers who left comments in the various chapters.

To get to the heavybondage blog, click on the link in the sidebar to the right.

By Mister-X / Spartan

Chris had finished the house work.  Danny was planning to take him to a party that evening.  It was at Vincent’s home.   Danny knew him, but Chris only knew his reputation as a very sadistic dom who would sometimes take other subs.  Danny had kept Chris in his house for the last two months for his slave training.  This was to be Chris’ first outing with his master.  He was apprehensive about it, but knew it was something that had to be done.  Chris knew that he was attractive to others, and that Danny, being on the short side, had an inferiority complex, and was looking forward to showing others that he had Chris as his sub.

When Danny arrived back home from work that evening, Chris was in the position he’d learned, on his knees at the door, naked, leather penis gag in his mouth, hands behind him in the ‘around the house’ cuffs which he’d put on at the set time, head bowed down, 15 minutes before Danny normally arrived home.  The ankle cuffs with the foot-long chain between were also on, as they always were.  This time Danny was a half hour late, and Chris was getting a little tired of having to wait in that position.  But he knew better than to say anything.  His feelings didn’t count.  Serving his master was all that mattered.

When Danny came in he just patted Chris on his bowed head and went to his bedroom to change clothes.  Danny had told Chris before leaving that morning which leathers he would be wearing to the party that evening, for him to make sure they were clean and fresh, and to put them out for him to change quickly when he got home.  Chris had dutifully done this, and before long Danny was in the living room wearing his leathers.  Chris always got turned on by that sight.

Danny went up to Chris, pulled out his cock, which was hard, removed the penis gag from Chris, and pulled Chris’ open mouth onto his cock.  Chris knew what to do.  This was the normal greeting after Danny had changed clothes after getting home from work.  In and out, in and out, sucking, massaging it with his tongue and lips, until Danny erupted down Chris’ throat.  Danny always did.  When Danny was finished, the penis gag was strapped back on, and this time, padlocked.  Chris could hear that Danny had put a lot of padlocks in one of his pockets.  Those leather pants had deep pockets and had lots of room.  Chris wondered what else Danny was taking to the party to put him in.

Danny took Chris to his dungeon to prepare him.  They didn’t have much time, since it took Danny time to get home from work in that heavy commute traffic, and the party was also a distance away, still having to fight that heavy commute traffic which lasted longer on Friday night.

Danny unlocked and removed the handcuffs from Chris’ wrists and brought out the leather arm binders.  Chris had only had those on for strict training.  He knew that they made his shoulders soon start to hurt.  Since they would be gone for about 6 hours, he figured his shoulders were going to be hurting a lot.

Putting the arm binders on properly took some time.  Danny would slip it up Chris’ arms almost to his shoulders, and start pulling the laces tight.  Chris’ arms weren’t used to being forced together behind his back, and Danny would have to start tightening after the laces had already been pulled tight, letting Chris’ arms get adjusted to being drawn close to each other behind his back.  The straps on the upper end went around the shoulders and over the arms, circling back under the arm pits to be pulled tight and locked.  This part didn’t need to be further tightened.

Before Danny did his last tightening, he got a packing bag and started getting other gear from the room.  Chris wanted to know what else he was going to have to have on that evening.  He saw Danny put in the thick, high, stiff, tight-fitting leather posture collar that he hated to have on, and the long chain that Danny liked to strap to the collar to pull him with.  But then Chris let out a shudder as he saw Danny put in a couple of those plastic bags.  Chris knew what that meant.  He hated that most of all.  But his cock, which was not in chastity, started to get hard at the thought.  The last item Danny put in was the spiked cock sheath in two halves.  Chris expected to be in a lot of pain this evening.  He knew Danny wanted to show Chris off to the other doms who would be in attendance.

Danny came back and did his last tightening of the arm binders on Chris.  When this was finished and he’d tied the two ends of the leather strip at the bottom of the binders tightly around the base of Chris’ balls and penis, locking his arms in place next to his body, he got Chatlet cuffs and screwed them on Chris’ wrists, hands palm-to-palm as he had kept them when putting the arm binders on.  Normally this would be very hard on the shoulders, but since the arm binders had gotten his elbows close together anyway, they wouldn’t add much pain to Chris’ shoulders, which were already starting to hurt.

Danny clipped the chain to Chris’ collar and started pulling him out to the car.  They were already late.  Danny helped Chris get into the trunk of the car on the sheet that was there, and helped him curl up so the trunk lid could be closed.  Danny got into the driver’s seat and began the long drive to the party.

When Danny pulled Chris into the party by the chain, the others had already gotten there and the party was in full swing.  As soon as they arrived Danny started showing off Chris to his dom friends.  After he’d talked to them about the training he had given Chris, how he had his cock sucked every night when he got home, he decided to show them the next part.  As he was unzipping Chris’ pants and pulling his cock out, he said “Chris hates this, but his cock loves it.”

Danny put the plastic bag over Chris’ head, gathering up the bottom and folding it over tightly so that no air could get in from the bottom at the neck.  He pulled out the posture collar and started strapping the two straps at the back.  He was putting some muscle into yanking them as tight as he could before putting the prongs through that next hole and closing them.  He put padlocks on after they were closed.  He said “I left the keys to all his padlocks back at my home, so none of this gear is coming off here at the party.”

Chris had been shaking his head back and forth at Danny, ‘mmpphh’-ing into his gag as Danny was putting the bag over his head.  But he had no say.  Danny wanted this done, so it was done.  Chris had about a minute’s worth of air in the bag before he used it all up.  By then the bag was clinging close to his head and he was fighting for air.  His cock had risen, was hard and was leaking pre-cum.  Suddenly he shot off as he was about out of air.

A crowd had gathered around to watch the show, and Danny had told them to leave some room around Chris’ cock, as it was going to shoot.  Being forewarned no-one else got splattered with cum when Chris erupted.  A lot of it landed on Chris’ exposed chest.  Just as Chris was losing consciousness, Danny got a pin and poked a couple of holes through the bag under Chris’ nostrils.  Chris was able to start getting a little air into his lungs through these little pinholes.  But he couldn’t completely fill his lungs for some time, and he couldn’t get any air into the bag to loosen it, since it was now clinging closely to his head.

Chris’ cock had subsided after its eruption.  Danny brought out the two halves of the cock sheath with the internal spikes, opening the two halves to show to everyone gathered around.  He placed Chris’ deflated cock between the two halves, closed them together, and padlocked them in place.  Danny then said “Chris really loves to have his tits lightly played with.”

He started running his fingers lightly over the tips of Chris’ nipples.  Chris started squirming.  Someone brought out a feather, and Danny started using that.  This got Chris’ breathing to become rapid, trying to breathe what air he could get through the pinholes in that clinging bag.  His cock started getting hard again, and he quickly noticed the pain, yelling into his gag.  Danny’s dom friends started laughing at that.  Several of the other subs who had been watching had their own cocks become hard, leaking pre-cum, seeing what had been done to Chris.  At least, those that weren’t in chastity reacted that way.

When Danny stopped his playing with Chris’ nipples to talk to one of his dom friends, one of the other doms started taking over for Danny, lightly tickling the tips of Chris’ nips, driving him crazy with ecstasy while punishing his cock.  The dom who had distracted Danny was Vincent, the host.  He was walking Danny toward another room in his home as they were talking about Chris, getting away from the noise of the crowd gathered around Chris.  Danny especially wanted to impress Vincent with how he had trained Chris, since Vincent was the leading dom in the city.

Then Vincent followed up his admiration with “Looks like you’ve trained your latest very nicely.  I’m looking forward to continuing his training.”

“Now look here, Vincent, he’s my sub.  I know you like to take any subs that others have trained, but you’re not taking Chris.”

“We can talk better in here.”  He opened the door to the room and the two walked in.  There were already a couple of beefy guys in the room hidden in an alcove recessed behind the door on each side, something that Danny didn’t notice, since he was completely wrapped up in his conversation with Vincent about Chris.

“One of the reasons I left the keys to the locks on Chris at my home is so that you wouldn’t be able to remove any of the restraints here.  He won’t be much good to you with all that on.”

As they were walking into the room, Vincent had nodded his head slightly to the two guys and they started silently walking behind the two, catching up to them.  “Oh that won’t be a problem.  I’ll just get the key to your home and have one of my boys go get the keys to the restraints.”

“You’re crazy.  I’m not giving you the keys to my home.  You’re not ‘mmpphh’.”  The two guys had gear with them and quickly had Danny cuffed and gagged with a hood covering his head, pinholes only at the nose accessing the outside.

“You know where to take him and how to treat him.”  The two guys left the room by another door at the other side dragging an unwilling Danny along.  Danny didn’t return to the party that night.

Vincent returned to the party, playing the role of host again.  Several of his guests commented on how they were enjoying it, and appreciated him hosting it.  There was plenty of food and drink.  Chris was still the center of attention for a group of doms, who were playing with him.  One of them saw Vincent and said “do you have a spare pair of nipple clamps?  None of us has brought a spare pair.”

“Of course.  I’ll go get a pair.”

Vincent left the room again, and was soon back with a pair of clover clamps.  He gave them to the dom who had requested them, and soon Chris had them on.  The doms had something new to play with, and were enjoying this.  The dom who had asked Vincent to get them said “before he leaves tonight, remember to ask Danny to give you your clamps back.  By the way, I don’t see him.  Where is he?”

“A couple of my boys are giving him a tour of my dungeon.”

“I’d like to see that, too.”

“I save that as a reward for the person who brings the best sub to my party.  At most one per party gets that honor, and for this party, Danny is the clear winner.”  On hearing this a couple of the other doms got a smirk on their face, knowing the irony of Vincent’s statement.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.  Maybe at a future party I could be the one so honored.”  That almost got the two smirkers to start laughing.

“I wish you success.”

The party continued.  After about an hour one of Vincent’s guys came out and handed him some keys.  He said “these are the keys to his home.”

“You were gone quite a while.  He didn’t have them in his pocket?”

“No.  He’d hidden them in his car.  We had to use a little persuasion to find out where.  When we told him we were going to leave him like he was for the night and start adding to it in the morning, he finally told us.  I don’t think he’ll deny you anything you want in the future, but we’ll make sure.”

“Good.  I’ll be gone until Sunday night, so keep him until then.  And play with him while I’m gone.”

After the guests had mostly left, Vincent picked up the end of the chain to Chris’ collar and said “Danny asked you to join him in another room in my home.  Come with me.”

Vincent pulled Chris through the door into that other room, across that room, and through a door in the back, then down a hall and up to a metal door.  He pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the metal door, slowly pulling this thick door open and pulling Chris inside.  Chris saw that it was a dungeon with all kinds of devices, virtually all of which were designed for torture.  He saw several guys at the other end locked into small cages, and finally saw Danny.

Danny had a chain padlocked tightly around the top of his neck with the other end attached to the ceiling.  He had been pulled up until his spread feet were barely on the floor.  His ankles had been locked to a spreader bar, with the ends of it attached to the concrete floor of the dungeon by foot long chains which had some slack in them.  His wrists had been attached to chains which pulled them up and out, away from his body.  His leather jacket and shirt had been removed and were on the floor by him.  He had been beaten severely around his midsection, and was openly bleeding.  He was gagged, and his face was slumped down.

Chris let out a gasp and looked at Vincent, who just said “he didn’t want to let me have you.  I needed to encourage him to make that decision.  He finally realized I was making him an offer he couldn’t refuse.  You now belong to me.  Those other guys you see here are my other slaves.  I keep them in here when they’re not serving me.  You will also be treated the same.”

Vincent pulled Chris over to the other end of the dungeon and put him into a small cage.  On his way past Danny, he noticed that Danny had large clamps, the size of a fist, on his tits and his cock which was sticking out of his unzipped pants.  He also noticed that there appeared to be spikes stuck under Danny’s fingernails.  Danny seemed to be trying to yell from the pain he was having, but no sound was coming out of his mouth.  His face was beet red.  He saw Chris, and seemed hurt that Chris would see him this way.

Vincent locked Chris’ ankle chain to the bottom of the cage, and brought the pull chain through the top, locking it taut to the bars.  Vincent closed and locked the cage door.  Chris had to duck down to be in the cage, his arms still painfully stretched out together in the arm binders behind him, his wrists still painfully in the Chatlet cuffs.  “I’m sorry to have to keep you in those painful restraints over night, but Danny left the keys to your padlocks in his home, and I won’t be able to have one of my guys get those until tomorrow.”

Vincent left the dungeon, turned the light off, closed and locked the door.  Both Danny and Chris spent the night there.  Neither got much sleep.  Chris was still having some difficulty getting air through his nostrils.  After seeing what they had done to Danny, Chris realized that he had better not ever deny Vincent anything he wanted.  This guy scared him.  He obviously deserved his reputation.  And with all these torture devices at his disposal, Chris wondered what was going to be done to him.  The looks on the faces of the other slaves when they looked at Vincent had been one of fear.

The two guys were back in the dungeon the next morning.  They first went to Danny.  “Danny boy, it looks like your cock has gotten flaccid.  I think it’s time to get it pumped up again, don’t you?”  He walked behind Danny carrying a long butt plug and worked it up his ass.  This started to get Danny’s cock hard, which caused him to get into more pain with the clamp on the end of it.

The other guy said “your face has returned to its normal shade.  I liked it better when it was the nice deep shade of red.  I think it’s time to return it to that shade.”  He went over to a pulley and started pulling the chain up that was attached to Danny’s neck chain.  Soon Danny was lifted into the air with his feet off the ground, only stopping when the chain connecting his ankles to the floor  were pulled taut.  Most of Danny’s weight was now being supported by the chain around his neck, with some offset by his arms.  He was trying to yell, but the only sound that came out was a gurgling sound.  After about ten seconds he lost consciousness, and the guy started lowering him down until his feet were barely touching the floor.

The two guys went over to the slaves who had watched all this.  “Danny boy needs to learn not to deny the master anything he wants.  Let this be another lesson to you to never deny the master anything, or you might find yourself in that predicament, as some of you have found yourselves to be in the past.”

They went over to Chris and one of them said “the master told me to go to your house today and get the keys to your locks.  He didn’t say when, though.  And he didn’t say to get you out of your locks.  I’m enjoying seeing you like that, arms nicely pulled back and tied together, those severe cuffs on your wrists.”  Putting his hands on Chris’ shoulders he said “I bet your shoulders hurt, don’t they?”

Chris reacted to the sudden increased pain, letting out a yell into his gag.  The guy laughed and said “I heard you were in training.  I think you need some more training on how to handle pain.  And oh, by the way, the master left for the weekend, leaving us in charge until Sunday night.  It will be a while before I can get your restraints changed to that of a normal slave.  We’ll be back to have some more fun with Danny boy.  Until then, I need to get the keys to your locks.  But I can’t resist doing this every time I see you.”  The guy put his fingers over Chris’ nostrils, cutting off his air.  He kept them there until Chris passed out.

The two left the dungeon.  On the way out, one of the guys said after looking at Danny “that’s much better.  Danny boy’s face is that nice deep shade of red again.”

When he regained consciousness, Chris was thinking that he’d just gone from his nice pleasant position as Danny’s slave into this hell hole with these sadistic guys.  But he knew that if he just waited patiently he would be out of this, excruciatingly painful as the wait was.  He was just going to have to grit his teeth, try his best to ignore the pain, and endure until Sunday night when Vincent returned.

Another guy came in and started emptying and feeding the slaves.  They didn’t feed Danny, and couldn’t feed Chris due to his locked-on penis gag.  They didn’t empty Danny, but they did empty Chris.  He was at least grateful to have that done.

It was a few hours later when the two guys came into the dungeon again.  One of them went up to Danny, and the other one came over to Chris.  The one that went to Chris pulled out a bunch of keys and started checking to see which one would open each of the locks, leaving them open when he was able to open them.  Chris was visibly relieved to finally start to be out of his bondage which had become extremely painful.  When all of the locks were opened, the guy put the right keys down near the cage, and started closing all the padlocks again.  When Chris saw this, he started yelling into his gag.

The guy who had the keys started laughing when he heard that.  “Not yet.  You need to continue your training on how to handle pain.  You’ve hardly been here any time at all.  You’ve still got a lifetime of dealing with pain ahead of you.”  He put his fingers on Chris’ nostrils again, cutting off his air until he passed out.

The guy joined his pal, who had again pulled the chain up that was attached to Danny’s neck chain.  Danny had been trying to yell, but only that gurgling sound came out.  He had passed out, and the guy had let him back down onto the floor.  “I think next time you need to play a little with his nips, cock and fingers.    He’s being let out of his pain too quickly.”

“Okay.  Good point.  Better to have some fun first.”

“Want to play a little with one of the slaves?”

“Sure.  They need to get some exercise.  Let’s bring them all out to play with.”

“One at a time, though.”

Chris had regained consciousness and heard this, as did the other slaves.  He saw them open one of the cages to take the guy out.  His hands were kept cuffed behind his back, and they locked a metal collar around his neck.  It was one that had been made for a woman’s neck, so it was a very tight fit.  The guy was already starting to make choking sounds.  They attached a chain to a ring at the front of the collar and start bringing him out.  His feet were already cuffed together, so they dragged him.  He was making sobbing sounds.  They got a metal hood which had a metal tongue suppressor built in and locked that on his head.  He saw them bring out an ice pick.  Chris couldn’t watch any more.  He didn’t want to watch what they started doing then.  Even with the tongue suppressor holding his tongue down he could hear the poor guy.

After a while they came back for another.  The two had unzipped their pants and had cocks sticking out hard.  Obviously they got off on torturing guys.  Chris looked over to see what this second sub would be looking like, knowing what he’d just seen and heard.  He was surprised to see the guy had a look of expectation, a smile on his face, and a hard-on.  One of the guys came over to Chris and said “this will be part of your training on how to handle pain.  Take a lesson from Serge here.  He’s been here the longest, and he’s finished his training.  Notice how he’s looking forward to it.”

The torture the two did to Serge was different, but no less intense.  But Serge seemed to enjoy it, though he was yelling.  Chris couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy what he was seeing the pair do to Serge.  After a while they came back for another.  This one was not looking forward to what they were going to do to him.

There were a total of six slaves, and they all got brutally tortured.  Some of them got raped, as the guys would get their rocks off after the torture they were inflicting had gotten them hard.  After the two guys finished, they returned the six to their cells.  The two guys returned to Danny.

Danny had recovered consciousness when they were torturing the first of the slaves.  He got to see all that the two did.  When they came over to him they said “now it’s your turn to have some fun.”  Danny was shaking and trying to get out of his chains, which was obviously impossible.

First they removed one of the big clamps from one of Danny’s tits.  It took some seconds for the blood to come rushing back in.  Danny tried screaming, but no sound came out of his mouth.  The two got a big smile on noticing his reaction.  They went over to the long spikes which were projecting out from under his fingernails and started moving them a little.  Danny just kept on doing his silent screaming.  They came back and removed the big clamp from his other tit.  More silent screaming.

One of the guys took Danny’s head in his hand and, looking straight at him, said “whenever Vincent wants something, you’re going to give it to him.  Right?”

Danny was nodding his head up and down as quickly as he could, given the position it was in.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson.  I wouldn’t want us to have to do this to you again for a longer time.”

Danny was shaking his head back and forth as vigorously as he could.

“You know, Arturo, I think we may have gotten through to this guy.  I think we’ll keep the clamps off his tits.  But we’ll keep him here another day until Vincent comes back.  Letting him go back home will have to be Vincent’s decision.”  Danny’s eyes were wide and wild-looking, as the two left the dungeon, turning the lights off, plunging the room into darkness.

Outside in a parked car, the guy with the earphones on said “Jesus, Joe, I don’t know how much more of this I can listen to.  We’ve got to go in and get those guys out.  Are you sure that we’ve got to wait?”

“Our orders are to wait until the Captain says to go in.  Chris and the others are going to have to put up with another day.  But it looks like we need to change reels again.  This one is almost out.”

The Captain had been listening to the reels as they were brought in to the station.  He decided to wait until Vincent returned and released Danny before he moved in.  This happened the next night.  The cops quietly went into the place when they were hearing Vincent and the two guys in the dungeon starting to release Danny, went up to that thick metal door leading into the dungeon, and waited for one of them to open the door to exit.  With the door open, they went into the dungeon with guns drawn and arrested the three, releasing the slaves.

For Chris, it was the end of a two month long assignment.  He had been recruited by the local police department specifically for this assignment.  He was more than happy to be able to provide evidence against Vincent, Arturo and the other guy.  But both he and Danny needed some time to recuperate.  After he had finished the paper work needed after the end of his assignment, he was given some leave time.

But Chris’ life had been changed.  He had experienced something that he very much enjoyed, something that he now missed.  He spent much of his recuperation thinking back on those happy times with Danny. He was looking at two possible paths for his future life to take.  Finally he decided to see if he could pursue the one he preferred to take, the one he was happiest with, the one his cock wanted him to take.

It had taken Chris a month to make his decision.  In preparing to see Danny again, he was concerned about whether Danny would associate their relationship with the horror of what he’d been put through and not want Chris back.

When Chris went to Danny’s place and rang the bell, Danny was at first surprised to see him.  Chris said “miss me?”

“Very much so.  Miss me?”

“I enjoyed my life here with you.  But we knew you would eventually take me into contact with Vincent, who would want to own me as his slave, which is why I was assigned here.  It looks like Vincent’s going to be put away for many years, since his slaves have finally decided to tell what they know and testify against him.  He had been out on bail, but now he’s back in and not allowed out on bail.  That, combined with your evidence, should make it safe enough for me to resume my life here as before, assuming you’ll have me back.  In this past month I’ve realized that this type of life is what I want.”

“You mean that after your work assignment here, you now want to return here voluntarily, unrelated to work?”

“Yes.”

“I’d been wondering whether you were really drawn to me, or whether that was something you were ordered to do.  When I didn’t hear from you I figured it was something you were ordered to do.”

“Initially it was something I was ordered to do.  But as I got to know you, I was drawn to you.  That’s why I’d like to return.  It was a life I enjoyed.  It is a life I want to have again.  It took me the last month to realize this.”

“What about your life as a police officer?”

“If you’ll take me back, I’ll give that up.”

“In that case, you’ve made me an offer I can’t refuse.  Welcome back.  Go take care of resigning from the force and bring your things here.  After you’re moved in, we can resume our interrupted relationship.  But it would probably be best if you didn’t tell anyone you were coming here, and didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

Chris resigned his job, which didn’t entail much since he was on leave anyway.  They expressed regret at seeing him leave, but with the publicity that this assignment produced for him, he wasn’t going to be able to do such assignments again, and he didn’t fit in with the other officers for anything else.  He didn’t tell them where he was going, and they didn’t ask.  He checked out of his rented apartment, giving notice to the manager, also not telling him where he was going, packed his things in his car, and drove to Danny’s home.  He didn’t leave a forwarding address to send his mail to, either.  And he figured he wouldn’t need to renew his driver’s license or give them his new address.  Chris had cut all ties.  After unpacking his belongings into his room, Chris was ready to resume his role as Danny’s slave.  He resumed his position, kneeling in front of Danny.

Danny took Chris to his dungeon and told him to strip naked and kneel.  After Chris and removed all his clothes, Danny cuffed Chris’ hands behind his back.  He locked a spreader bar to one ankle, spread Chris’ other ankle apart, and locked the other end of the spreader bar to it.  Danny then also cuffed each of Chris’ wrists into one end of a handcuff.

Danny got the leather penis gag he always kept in Chris’ mouth when he didn’t have his cock in it, and strapped the gag on, putting a padlock through the back but not locking it.

He brought out a short length of chain, putting one chain link end through the padlock at the back of Chris’ gag, then wrapping it around the top of Chris’ neck, forced Chris’ chin up with one hand while he pulled the chain tight with the other, and finally getting the other chain link end as tight as he could, putting it through the padlock at the back of Chris’ gag, finally clicking it closed.  Chris’ cock was not in chastity, and it was now erect and hard.  Chris was also having a difficult time breathing, his face starting to turn red.  He was starting to get a bad feeling about what Danny was planning to do to him.

Danny walked around to the front of Chris, took a good look, and said “that will do until I can get you hooked up.  I’ll be attaching that chain around your neck to an overhead chain I’ve had installed.  And I’ll be spreading your ankles and wrists apart like I was kept, attaching them as well like mine were when I was in Vincent’s dungeon.

In order to put that experience behind me I need to relive it.  It’s either that, or forget it, which I can’t do because I think about it constantly.  Your moving in here has provided me that opportunity to relive it through you.  You’ll be providing me the greatest service by doing that.  I can’t move on with my life until I’ve gotten that behind me.  You’ll now be kept like I was in Vincent’s dungeon until I’m able to put it behind me, which may take a while.”

Turning to look at the wall, he continued “I’ve still got some other preparing to do.  I need to get three of those big clamps, as well as some of those long spikes.  I need to get your stomach red with beatings.  To keep you alive I’ll at least be emptying you each morning, feeding you three times a day, but three times a day I’ll also be pulling the chain up for you to be suspended by the chain around your neck until you pass out, like I did.  And I’ll lock myself in one of those little cages on the other side of the dungeon, cuffing my hands behind my back in such a way that I’ll be able to get out of them and the cage later.  On evenings after work, and on weekends, I’ll just sit there in the cage watching you as you were watching me.  I’ll spend my time looking at you, thinking about what it was like.”

While Chris was hearing this he was shuddering with what he was hearing.  He could see that Danny was determined to do this.

Danny walked out of the room, coming back with some chains which he started hooking up to some recently installed attachments on the side of the dungeon wall, getting up on a step stool to do so.  Soon he would have Chris installed as he had been.

Chris had not expected this.  He realized that Danny needed to get passed his horrific experience, but he didn’t expect Danny to do it this way.  Now he was going to be the one to be strung up and tortured like Danny had been.  Chris knew his life was no longer going to be the enjoyable one he’d had before, the life he thought he was coming back to.  Instead, it was as if he were back in Vincent’s dungeon again.  And having severed all ties before moving in with Danny, this time he had no way out.

Chris’ cock was hard, leaking pre-cum, as Danny was dragging him over to the chains.  He was yelling into his gag, but Danny ignored that.  Chris realized that he had offered himself unconditionally to Danny, and Danny accepted him, doing to him what Danny believed he needed to do.  Chris had made Danny an offer that Danny couldn’t refuse.  And with Danny’s acceptance of this offer, Chris would pay dearly for it.  Chris had chosen to be Danny’s slave, and his job was to serve his master.

THE END

Mister-X / Spartan will return soon to the Prison Library with a brand new series, called “Another Bondage Fantasy World Client”

Check out these shots of Mister X / Spartan, who is a regular over at Serious Male Bondage:

Yes, that is THE Mister X / Spartan, from the Prison Library.

Today’s images are from the men over at Serious Male Bondage

Mister X /Spartan sent these images:

Mister X /Spartan is a regular prisoner at Serious Male Bondage, where these images are from.

Mister X /Spartan also has an extensive collection of bondage fiction in the Metalbond Prison Library.

He’s also got other writings over at Eckie’s site.

By Mister-X / Spartan

It wasn’t going to be easy. I had checked out the guy’s house the day before, ostensibly as a city worker. I had the right credentials for it, arranged by my friend whose photo I was going to retrieve, dressed and acted the part. My friend worked for the city in a pretty high position, and was being blackmailed by this guy. My friend knew that I had done some covert work when I was in the military, having broken into houses before to retrieve information that we needed. I’d never been caught at it because I tried to be as thorough as possible in my preliminary work. That’s always the key to being successful.

I’d noticed the alarm system he had. It was a good one. I figured that anyone who did what this guy did would have to have a good alarm system. I had checked out the locks on his doors. They were state-of-the-art, almost impossible to pick. I checked the windows to see if I could get any leverage there. No luck there, either. But I knew that the guy employed servants. They were never as thorough as their employer, and I had often found the crack I needed at their area.

This time was no different. The servants left the window open a crack to be able to get some air in their otherwise stuffy area. I would return later that night when I knew the guy was going to be out. I needed to de-activate the alarm system, and knew enough about those systems to be able to do that. That left the problem of where he kept the damaging photos. In my checking of the house I had found what I thought had to be the place where he kept them. I didn’t know for sure, and had noticed some possible secondary places, but that was the one I would focus my attention on.

I waited outside, hidden, wearing black clothes, including a black balaclava over my head. I’d kept these clothes from my days in the military, since they were mine and didn’t belong to the military, being the ones that I’d always worn for my successful break-ins. I saw a car leave the house, the one that I knew he always drove, and waited a few more minutes before starting my entrance.

I first disabled the security system. This was done by cutting the power to the sensors in the house. There were still cameras that were operated off a different power source. I knew the locations of these, and made sure to avoid being seen by them when inside. The security people would be monitoring those cameras, but not the sensors.

I checked the window in the back, and found it opened a crack as usual. It was a simple window, one that you could push down further by just pushing on the top. Easy as pie. I jumped in through the window. I was in. I first waited a couple of minutes, ears highly attuned to any sounds. I knew that the guy had no pets, so wasn’t expecting any surprises from animals.

Hearing no sounds, I stealthily went to the room that had the place I expected to find the incriminating photos. Part of what drew me to this place was because there was no security camera focused on it. I figured the guy wouldn’t want the security people to be seeing what he was doing there. I had a little flashlight with me, and made sure to only use it when absolutely necessary, keeping as little light in the area for people outside to see. My rubber soled shoes made no noise as I walked to the room on that thick carpet.

I finally got to the locked cabinet that I thought the photos would be in. I got out my lock picks, getting ready to pick the lock. I figured I could chance putting the light on the locked cabinet, since there were no windows in this room. But that’s when I saw that something was wrong. Setting on top of the cabinet was a pair of handcuffs.

Suddenly the light went on and a voice came from behind me as I heard the click of a trigger lock. “I have a gun pointed at you and I have no qualms about using it. You have broken into my home, and I have the right to shoot you. If you don’t want to be shot, put those handcuffs on your wrists behind your back and remain facing that direction.”

I had been too late in reacting. Knowing what I knew about this guy, I had no doubts he was telling the truth. I was sweating. I froze, but knew that the time to react was past. I picked up the handcuffs, ratcheted one side on my wrist behind my back, as I made like I was doing the same to the other side.

“Nice try, but you haven’t got them on that other wrist yet. I’m waiting, but I have little patience. I will count to three. If you don’t have that other side ratcheted on when I get to three, I will shoot. One, two —”

I quickly ratcheted the other side on.

“Good. I realized when you were here that you could have been searching for a way in. You were very cautious and careful. Very few city employees are. So I called to verify your employment with the city and found that you were not on their records. That was a grave mistake for someone who was otherwise so careful. I’m sure you must realize that I also am a careful man. You are not the first to try to break into my house to try to retrieve some of my source of income. I have had to prepare my house for such unexpected guests. I will direct you where to go to get to my guest room. I will be behind you all the time, my gun at the ready. Now start walking out the way you came in.”

I was looking for opportunities to get away from him, but I only walked a few feet out of the room before he had me stop. From behind me he unlocked what I had thought was a storage room, backed up as he told me to do, and told me to enter. It was a stairway leading down. He kept out of the way of the door, so I couldn’t use that to hit him. This guy was good. He knew all the tricks.

I quickly ran down the stairs, but he was expecting that, and quickly ran down as well, keeping up with me. He stayed a few steps up from me, and told me to turn to the right. There was a noose hanging there at the height of my head. He told me to put my head in it and to keep walking. I hesitated. I felt the gun now in my back as he pushed me forward with my head going straight into it. The force of this caused me to go forward the few steps necessary for it to tighten around my neck. He stepped back and walked back up the stairs to close the door we had descended. I wasn’t choking, but that noose restricted me to a small area, and with my hands cuffed behind my back, I couldn’t reach it. I admired his ingenuity in getting me confined to this small area.

I finally decided to speak. I figured someone this ingenious had to have a very large ego, and I decided to appeal to it. “Very clever, Hans. Now what are you going to do to me?”

“I see you know my name but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.”

I just kept quiet. I didn’t bring any identification with me, didn’t drive but took public transportation. I’ve done this before, after all.

After waiting for a response he didn’t get, he said, “I see. Well, Mister-X, if I can so call you, I need to prepare you for your stay here as my guest. I will also need to find out who among my many clients sent you.”

“And how will you do that, since I have no intention of telling you that information?”

“I have my ways. Everyone always talks eventually. Everyone has a vulnerability of some kind. I will enjoy finding yours so I can get you to divulge that information.” He said that so confidently and matter-of-factly that it sent chills down my spine.

I heard him go further into this underground room, stepping around me with the gun pointed at me all the time. I heard the click of a metal door, and the groaning sound of it being opened. I also heard a moan come from another part of the room. We weren’t alone down here. That also sent chills up my spine.

Hans returned and got behind me again, always with the gun pointed at me, always with his finger on the trigger. Suddenly I felt a pinprick on my arm. I swung away from it, but again, I was too late. It only took a few seconds for me to pass out.

I awoke. My head was hurting, and I felt sick. I didn’t know where I was. I tried to move my arms, and found that they were hugging my body in front of me, unable to move. I tried to look down to see what was causing the problem, and found that I couldn’t look down, that something hard was forcing my head up. I tried getting up, by couldn’t do that either. My ankles were forced together by something hard. I looked around and found that I was inside a jail cell of some kind, since there were bars around me. I was lying on the floor.

I needed to take a pee. I decided to let out a yell to get someone to get me out of this stuff so I could take a pee, but when I tried to let out a yell, no sound came out. There was something in my mouth preventing that. That’s when I remembered where I was and what had happened.

Feeling with my back on the floor, I realized that there were buckles. I was encased in a straitjacket. But what a straitjacket it was. It seemed to be made out of canvas and leather with a high, hard leather collar forcing my head up. There was no give anywhere. I was tightly contained in this thing. But straitjackets only covered the upper part. I tried separating my legs, and found that I couldn’t. Apparently my lower legs were also entombed in something as well. The only thing I could think of was something called a leather leg binder. I’d been in both a leather straitjacket and leather leg binder before, but that was for leather play with some friends. This was serious business. I was being held captive against my will. It was quiet. The other guy I’d heard moan wasn’t here anymore.

I finally heard some sounds. Soon Hans came into view. “Ah, I see you are awake. I hope you will like my hospitality. Your cock seemed to enjoy it when I started putting suitable clothes on your body for your stay here. That little bit of information will be of use to me.”

I shifted uncomfortably. It looked like the secret I kept from my friends was going to be known by this blackmailer.

“As I’d told you last night, what I need to know from you is which of my clientele had sent you. But please don’t tell me too quickly. That would spoil my fun. I don’t often have the chance to entertain a guest in this room, and I like to prolong my entertainment of them as long as possible.”

I was thinking ‘oh, crap. It sounds like I’m in for it.’

“You probably need to relieve yourself. I’ll get a jar for you to piss in. This will probably be the last time you will do so here on your own. The next few times you will be doing so involuntarily.”

He left, and was soon back. I heard him slide me over to the side of the cell. He started fiddling around with the area around my crotch, and I finally felt my penis get out into the air. Hans started laughing.

“I’d better get an ice cube and a chastity to put on. You’ll never be able to piss with your cock sticking up erect like that.”

Hans was gone again for a couple of minutes, and was back. I suddenly felt something either ice cold or extremely hot hit my cock. I involuntarily shivered from that feeling. Soon my urge to pee was stronger than ever.

“Go ahead and pee. I’ve got the jar positioned for you.”

After I’d finished, I felt something being put on my cock and balls. Following the unmistakable click of a padlock closing, I started feeling sharp pains in that area. As Hans was covering up that area with the clothes he had me in, Hans said, “you won’t like the little prison your jewels are now locked up in.”

He was right. I could feel the spikes digging into my cock and balls. The more I would try to get erect, the more pain I would get. I figured this was just the start of his hospitality.

Soon I felt leather going on over my head. He was putting a leather hood on me. I tried jerking my head away, but he had too strong a hold of it. Again, I was too late. My head was soon entombed in that hood. It only had two pin holes at the nose for breathing. I couldn’t see any more.

I heard the door being opened, or at least a door, since the hinges needed oiling. I felt myself being dragged out along the floor. My legs were locked together in those hard leg binders, and about the only movement I could do was to sit up or move my head. Neither seemed to do much good, so I just went along for the ride.

I finally heard the sound of something being hooked to my ankles. A button was pushed and I started being dragged along the floor again. But this time my body started being lifted into the air, ankles first. I was being raised higher and higher, until my head was finally off the floor. I was hanging upside down.

I felt my cock being brought out to the air again, with something attached to it. My cock was pretty painful, what with that spiked sheath that was locked onto it. Despite that it was still trying to get erect. Finally whatever Hans was putting on it was attached.

Hans said “you’ll find that I like to give pleasure to my guests. This little device will stimulate your cock to get it to erupt. You call it a milking machine. Most milking machines stimulate the sides of the cock. This one stimulates the tip. It feels oh, so pleasurable. Or at least it would if there weren’t those spikes sticking into the sides. Let’s see how you like it. You’ll be stimulated to erupt every hour on the hour. I’ll be back in a few hours to see if you’re ready to tell me who employed you. If not, you will continue to enjoy being stimulated.”

He started up the milking machine. True to his word, it stimulated the tip of my cock. Oh that would have felt wonderful if it weren’t for those damn sharp spikes. How those hurt when I erupted! I must have been screaming my head off into that gag. I heard Hans laughing over to the side before I heard him walking away.

It’s amazing how something so pleasurable could be turned so easily into an instrument of torture. By the time Hans returned in a few hours I was going out of my mind. He removed my hood and gag and told me that all the torture would stop if I just told him the name of the client who had hired me. Despite desperately wanting this to end, I still had enough sanity to tell him that I couldn’t. Hans smiled and said, “Good. I was hoping that you wouldn’t, but I thought I would give you a sporting chance to end my fun.” He was soon gone after my hood and gag were back in place.

Several hours later when he returned I was willing to tell him anything to have that damn machine turned off. After removing my hood and gag, Hans said, “I’ll see if you are ready now. Who employed you?”

I told him. He then asked, “and what is your name?”

I told him. He said, “ah, I’ve heard of you. You have quite a reputation. I’m honored to finally meet you and to have bested you. But I’m afraid that in the past, some of the guys I’ve had here have stretched the truth with me, so I will have to check out your information before I can give you some relief.”

I started screaming as he put my gag back in and left. He kept that damn machine on.

When Hans returned in a couple of hours, he turned the machine off. He removed my gag. I was still suspended upside down. “You have been truthful with me. I’m honor bound to keep my end of the bargain and release you from my unpleasant treatment. I’m afraid your friend that hired you is not pleased that you did not succeed. He now knows that he will be paying a much higher price. But I now have the problem of what to do with you. I can’t very easily just let you go free. I’m afraid the authorities take a dim view of my business practices. So what do you suggest I do?”

After it took me a minute for what he said to sink in, I slowly answered, “I don’t know what to suggest. My brain isn’t functioning very well at the moment.”

“I can fully understand that. I’ll return you to your room to get some rest. Try to come up with a practical solution to our problem. I don’t like impractical ones.”

I found the whole situation bizarre. Here he was asking me what he should do to me, me who he was holding prisoner against my will. What am I supposed to suggest?

It wasn’t until after I’d gotten a good night’s sleep, one which was punctuated by some erotic fantasies that I thought about, when I awakened with my usual morning woodie being accompanied by intense pains from the spikes.

Hans returned with a freshly cooked breakfast, a piss jar, some wash rags and something for me to shit into. He certainly was a mass of contradictions, very civilized on one hand, and very uncivilized on the other. After I’d eaten and had done my usual morning routine, without shaving and showering, Hans asked me if I’d come up with a solution to our mutual problem.

I said, “you must have contacts with the BDSM community. Do you know of anyone who is looking for a slave to keep restrained 24/7?”

“Hmm. An interesting solution. One I should have thought of myself. It is a distinct possibility. I’ll check.”

He left, leaving me still encased as I’d been when I first awakened in this cell, except that I had my gag out.

Hans didn’t return for many hours. When he finally did he was accompanied by another man. I was introduced to ‘Master Bill.’ This guy was dressed all in leathers. He looked pretty rough. He took a good look at me, and started asking me questions, all related to my health. He told Hans to release me from the straitjacket and leather leg binders, leaving me in the cell. When I was released I didn’t smell too good. Master Bill didn’t seem to mind that. He was just interested in what kind of body I had, ordering me to turn around before standing for him to inspect me. It was as if I were an animal being purchased. But then, maybe that’s what I was.

Finally Master Bill said, “okay, Hans. You’ve got a deal. He may not be willing to put up with the way I’ll be treating him, but he will eventually, and I’ll have fun training him. But he’ll have to be well restrained for the transfer.”

Hans replied, “of course. What type of restraints do you wish me to use?”

“Metal.”

“Very well.”

“And well gagged, of course.”

“Of course.”

Soon I found myself in the back of a van, ankles cuffed together, hands cuffed, a chain connecting ankles and hands in a hogtie, two-inch-thick metal collar around my neck, and gagged. Otherwise I was naked. Hans kept the clothes I’d been wearing, so I now had none of my clothes.

The van drove across town and into a garage. Once there, the chain putting me into the hogtie was removed, as well as my ankle cuffs. A chain had been clipped to the front of my collar. I was pulled out of the van by that, like a guy pulling an unwilling horse or steer by a rope. I was pulled into the guy’s house, unwilling to go, down some stairs and through a door into what looked like a dungeon. My collar was turned around and the chain attached to it was attached to a hoist that was raised. I wasn’t choking, but I was going to be kept standing in that spot.

The guy went over to the wall, and I saw that he had an assortment of leather objects that are used for administering beatings. He came back with a whip. He practiced cracking it a few times, aiming for something and hitting it every time, until he looked me square in the eye and said, “it’s time to welcome you to Master Bill’s home.”

He hit me with that whip about five times. Each one stung like hell. I let out a yell into my gag with each one. He finally could see that I had taken about enough, considering the weakened state I was already in, and was ready to collapse. He released the chain and took me over to a small cage. He had me get into it, and locked it afterwards. He left, and returned with a bowl of food and a bowl of water. He removed my gag, and allowed me to eat from the bowls, hands still cuffed behind me.

When I’d finished, he started talking with me.

“How did you happen to become a prisoner in Hans’ home?”

I told him the whole story. His reaction was much more than I had expected. He was really taken aback by it. Then he started laughing. He finally said, “oh, Hans. It’s a good thing you don’t know what I do for a living. It’s a good thing I kept my BDSM life totally separate from my vanilla life.” Then he started laughing again.

He finally saw me looking at him, and decided to tell me. “I’m a police officer. One of my tasks in the past few years was trying to find out who has been blackmailing various important people in this community. We knew it was going on, but we couldn’t get the people to own up to it, since they feared what would happen if the evidence was uncovered. I could never figure out who it could be. I hadn’t even considered Hans. And with Hans selling you to me I now know who is doing it. I’m going to have to figure out how to proceed at this point.”

I was kept in that cage. Periodically Master Bill would come by to feed me and relieve me, but my position remained as it was. I was still his slave, and was periodically beaten, periodically played with, and periodically fucked.

One day after I had finished eating he pulled up a chair and sat down. “We got him, and we got the evidence. Hans is now in jail awaiting trial. There’s no bail. The evidence is being treated very confidentially. There are a lot of important figures in the community who are very nervous right now, hoping that the evidence won’t be coming out at trial. I expect that Hans will be making a plea deal to avoid a trial in exchange for a lighter sentence and suppression of the evidence. I’m sure that is what the result will be.

But you should have seen the look on his face when he saw me in my uniform! Oh how I wish I had a camera to picture that! It was priceless! He realized that, as careful as he had been, he wasn’t careful enough. We all try, but we never completely succeed in being sufficiently careful.”

Master Bill went back upstairs after filling me in on the events. His last sentence reminded me of when I went to Hans’ house to break into it. Yes, we are never completely successful in being sufficiently careful. Sometimes something unexpected will happen to trip us up.

Now both Hans and I are in prison. Hans is in a public prison, and I’m in a private one. The arrest and conviction of Hans hasn’t changed my life. I’m still Master Bill’s slave to keep restrained, beaten periodically, fucked sometimes, played with at times. I thought it strange that this policeman who works to uphold the law saw nothing wrong in breaking it this way. But there’s nothing I can do about changing it. He has been sufficiently careful so far. But one of these days he’ll make a mistake, and this slave will finally be able to be free. After all, Master Bill can’t possibly be the only exception to that statement he’d made.

Metal would like to thank Mister X for this story!

By Mister-X / Spartan

“Bobby, could you do me a favor?”

“Name it, Russ.”

“We’re having a bondage party over at the Hermans’ place out on Old Middlefield Road. You know where it is, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve got Jerry bound and gagged in my apartment, all restraints locked. I’ve got the keys with me. He wanted to get started early. I need someone to get him and bring him here. Can you do it?”

“I’ve got the time and the wheels with gas. But I don’t have a key to your place.”

“I left a spare under the doormat. You’ll need someone else to help you. Get Harry. And just for kicks, make like you’re burglars and you’re breaking into my place. Put on some dark clothes and wear those ski mask hoods you’ve got. That way Jerry won’t know that you’re bringing him here. He’ll think you’re kidnapping him.”

“Got it. That should be fun. Have you got enough gear for Harry and me as well?”

“Sure.”

I got off the phone and called Harry. He was game when I told him what was up. I changed clothes and drove to Harry’s to pick him up. Then both of us drove to Russ’ place and went up to the front door. We took a flashlight along and put our hoods on before we left the car. We looked under the doormat and found the key. We got the front door opened with it and went inside. Bobby thought ‘that was easy.’

* * *

“Doris, I just saw some burglars go into Russ Cochran’s place. Get the police on the phone.”

Doris dialed the number and handed the phone to her husband. “Hello, New Island police? This is Victor Fleming of the Palms neighborhood watch. I just saw some burglars go into a place here. The address is (omitted). They’re driving a dark Chevrolet, license plates (omitted). They’re still in the house. You can catch them if you hurry. Wait a minute! They’re coming out now. And they’re carrying another guy who is bound and gagged. He seems to be fighting them, not wanting to be taken. They’re taking him to their car. They opened the trunk of their car and put him in. One of them is hurrying back to the house and is closing the front door, locking it, and putting the key under the doormat where they’d found it. The other one got into the driver’s seat and has started up the car. The door closer got in the passenger’s side and they’re leaving. Again, the license number is (omitted) and it’s a dark Chevrolet.”

“Wow, that was quite a story to listen to. I hope they catch them. I wonder who the guy was that they took out.”

“I don’t know. I know it wasn’t Russ Cochran. I would recognize him. At least we did our good deed for the day. I’ll have to report this at our next neighborhood watch meeting.

* * *

Bobby had gotten to Old Middlefield Road and turned off onto it. He had about 15 miles to go yet to get to the Hermans’ place. He and Harry were joking about their part in Jerry’s ‘kidnapping.’ At least, that’s what they made Jerry think they were doing. They wondered about stopping along the way and driving into the woods a little way, opening the trunk and talking over where they should dump him. They were absorbed in the possibilities when Bobby suddenly noticed a red light in his rear view mirror. He pulled over.

When the officer came up, he said, “Surely I wasn’t exceeding the speed limit, officer.”

The officer had his gun drawn and said, “get out of the car and put your hands in the air.” Both Bobby and Harry were shocked to hear this. Harry looked to his side and saw another officer with his gun pointed at him. They both got out with their hands in the air.

“Get against the car with your feet spread and your hands spread apart with palms on the car.”

The two obeyed on opposite sides of the car. The two were patted down for weapons, and had their hands cuffed behind them. They were both taken to the police car. Harry was put in the back seat, but the officer with Bobby said, “where is the key to your trunk?”

At that point Bobby knew something was up. He got a smile and asked, “did Russ put you up to this?”

The officer said, “this is not a joke. You’re in big trouble. Now where’s the key to your trunk?”

“It’s on the key ring with the ignition key, still in the ignition. But all I was doing was picking up a guy to transport him to a party. He’s in the trunk, bound and gagged.”

The officer opened the back of their car and put Bobby in alongside Harry. Once the back doors of the police car are closed they cannot be opened from the inside. Both Bobby and Harry were starting to get hard-ons from the cuffs.

The officer went to the trunk while his partner kept an eye on the two. The officer opened the trunk and found Jerry. He looked up at the officer and smiled. The officer helped him out of the car, and when he saw that his restraints were locked on, he said “wait here” and came back to the police car. He opened the back door and said to Bobby, “I’ll need the keys to his cuffs and gag.”

“I don’t have them. Russ Cochran does.”

The officer thought a minute, and called in, “I’m on Middlefield Road about 4 miles up from where it intersects New Island Road. I’ll need a backup. I’ve got the kidnappers.”

When Bobby and Harry heard him call them ‘kidnappers,’ they looked at each other and said, “no way.”

But the officer wasn’t near enough to hear this. He had walked up to Jerry and said, “you’ll have to wait here. Apparently those two don’t have the keys to your restraints. But I’ll ask you one question, and you can either nod your head up and down for a ‘yes,’ or shake it back and forth for a ‘no.’ Were you being kidnapped?”

Jerry nodded his head up and down.

The officer said, “that’s what I thought,” and walked back to his patrol car. He told his partner to wait here with the victim, that he was taking the two suspects in to be booked.

When Bobby and Harry heard that they were to be arrested, they both looked at each other. Harry said first, “you’ve got it all wrong, officer.”

The officer just started reading them their rights, saying that they had the right to remain silent, that anything they said can and would be used against them. On hearing that, they both decided to remain silent, since they were going to be arrested anyway, and what they had to say could wait.

The officer took off with Bobby and Harry, siren wailing.

When they got to the city police headquarters to be booked, they found a crowd. Apparently there had been a party that had gotten out of hand and a fight broke out. The pair were kept in the car until all the others had been booked and charged. It was quite a busy night.

While they were alone, Harry said, “a fine mess you got me into, Bobby.”

“I’m in it, too. Wait’ll I get hold of Russ Cochran. But he’s up at the Hermans’ waiting for all three of us.”

* * *

Russ was wondering aloud, “what’s keeping them? They should be here by now. I don’t understand what could go wrong. We’ll have to delay the party until they can get here.”

Meanwhile, back at police headquarters, the wild party group had been taken care of and Bobby and Harry could be taken in and processed. The arresting officer got another to help him, and they opened the back door of the police car and pulled them out, taking them in to be booked.

The officer at the desk took Bobby first. “Name?” Bobby told him. “Address?” Bobby told him. The officer looked up and said, “aren’t you Clem Haskin’s son? He’s going to be mighty surprised to see his son being arrested.” He turned to the arresting officer and asked, “what’s the charge?”

“Kidnapping.”

The desk officer let out a whistle, looked at Bobby, shook his head, and wrote that down. Then he gave a copy of the paperwork to an officer standing alongside and told him to go process Bobby into the jail. The officer took Bobby’s arm and started walking him into the facility. Bobby was still cuffed. They went through a locked door and started down a corridor. Bobby realized that he was now going to be in jail. He was getting worried, and his cock was getting harder.

The officer at the desk took Harry next. “Name?” and went through the same process with him. Before long Harry was being taken down the corridor and through the locked door into the jail. The officer told the officer taking him to be sure to keep the two separated.

By now Russ Cochran was getting worried and called the hospital to see if any of the three of them had been reported being admitted. None of them had, of course.

At this time another police car drove up to the jail with Jerry. He was still cuffed and gagged. He was taken inside and told to wait. Bobby had finally been processed, given his jail uniform, and was put in a cell. Almost immediately he was summoned to be questioned by the arresting officer. He had to be cuffed again to be taken to the interrogation room. When he got there he was told that he had the right to have an attorney present, but he declined. He was sat down, still with cuffs on his wrists behind his back, as was the jail policy when transporting a prisoner.

Officer, after turning on tape recorder setting on the table: “This interrogation is being recorded. It is starting at 2118 hours on October 31. It is between myself, Officer Reginald Forsyth, and the prisoner Robert Haskins. I have already read Mr. Haskins his Miranda rights, and have told him that he has the right to have an attorney of his choosing present, but he has declined. Is that right Mr. Haskins?”

“Yes. But this is all a misunderstanding.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, and I’ll ask the questions.   Now, did you on the evening of October 31 break into the home of Russ Cochran at (address omitted)?”

“I entered the home after picking up the key from under the doormat where Russ Cochran told me I would find it.”

“Did you and Harry Guardino remove one Gerald Smith from Mr. Cochran’s home and put him in the trunk of your car?”

“I did, since Russ Cochran told me to do so.”

“I see. And where was Russ Cochran when he told you to kidnap Gerald Smith?”

“Russ Cochran is at the Hermans’ place up on Old Middlefield Road where he is having a bondage party to which all three of us were invited, only Harry and I were to pretend that we were kidnapping Jerry to take him there.”

“This interview is now terminated at 2127 hours on October 31.”

Turning to the officer who was standing at the door, the arresting officer said, “keep the prisoner here while I go arrest Russ Cochran.” Bobby let out a gasp when he heard that, and the officer turned to him and said, “you’re the one who said that Russ Cochran told you to kidnap Gerald Smith.” Having said that, he left.

The arresting officer, outside, saw that his partner was back, and told him to get in the car and he would fill him in on what they were going to do. They took off with siren wailing.

It took some time to drive the distance to the Hermans’ place, and when they got there and pounded on the door, announcing to open up, that it was the police, there was stunned silence in the house. Mrs. Herman, dressed as a vampire, opened the door. The arresting officer walked in and announced, “is Russ Cochran present?”

A 50-year-old man dressed all in leathers stepped forward and said, “I’m Russ Cochran.”

The officer told him to face the wall and put his hands up high, spreading them and his feet. Russ Cochran did as ordered, the officer patted him down, and cuffed him behind his back. He read him his Miranda rights. Russ finally said, “I don’t understand. What’s the charge?”

“Kidnapping.”

“Preposterous.”

“We’ll be the judge of that. Come with me downtown where you will be booked.”

The officers put Russ in the back seat and left. The others at the party were pretty stunned with what happened.

When the officers got to the jail, they took Russ Cochran in to be booked. He went through the same routine that Bobby and Harry had gone through earlier. When he was processed and issued his jail uniform, he was taken to the room where the officer had interrogated Bobby, cuffed as Bobby still was.

When Russ was brought into the room, he saw Bobby and asked, “what have you been telling them?”

“The truth. But they don’t want to believe it.”

The arresting officer turned on the tape recorder, again giving the time and date, stated who was present, and asked Russ, “do you have the keys to the cuffs and gag that are on Gerald Smith?”

“Yes, of course. I put them on him.”

“Ah, so you admit that. Where are the keys?”

“They’re with the contents of my pants, which are now kept somewhere in this facility.”

The officer told the other officer at the door to bring Russ Cochran’s personal contents when he was processed to the interrogation room. They all waited silently for the officer to do so, recorder still running. When the officer returned he put the envelope on the table. The arresting officer opened it, and dumped out the contents on the table, clothes and all. He pawed through the contents and separated out the keys. “Which ones are the keys to the restraints on Gerald Smith?”

Russ looked at the various keys and said which ones were the appropriate keys. The arresting officer then told the other officer to bring Gerald Smith into the room. There was another silent wait while the officer did so. When Jerry was in the room he saw Russ, and calmed down. The arresting officer picked up the keys and tried them on Jerry’s gag and cuffs, found that they fit, but kept them locked on! He said for the recording, “the keys in possession of Russ Cochran fit the restraints on Gerald Smith. This confirms his statement that he was the one to put Mr. Smith into the restraints. There doesn’t seem to be any further information that can be gained by continuing this interrogation, so it is ended at 1019 hours on October 31.” With that, the officer turned off the recorder.

He told the other officer in the room to go get Harold Guardino, the other prisoner in the case. Everyone was wondering what was going on. When Harry joined them, also having his hands cuffed behind him as was the policy at the jail, the arresting officer ordered him to sit as well.

He started in, “I’m tired of you people believing that you have the right to take someone bound and gagged out of a house and put them in a car trunk, driving off with them, looking for all the world to anyone observing you that you are kidnapping them. You may think it’s a fun thing to do, but it caused us police to spend a lot of wasted time on this nonsense. I’m going to keep you in those cuffs, all four of you, and put you in a real jail cell to spend the night, separate from each other. And I’m going to have the other three of you gagged as well. Maybe then you can realize that what you are doing should be kept indoors and not out in public. Otherwise, the kidnapping charges will be dropped. Officer, get some gags, and make them tight. And get four sets of ankle cuffs as well that have a connecting chain. Put those on them after they are in their cells after wrapping the connecting chain over their handcuffs so that they will be in a hog tie.” With that, the arresting officer left the interrogation room, knowing that that is something they would like.

The four looked at each other, and Bobby, while he could still speak, said, “It looks like we’re going to get what we wanted to have tonight. And we’ll be kept that way all night in a real jail cell. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to it. Maybe we can do this again next year. Happy Halloween.”

Metal would like to thank Mr X for this story!

By Mister-X / Spartan

Travis was shocked! He couldn’t believe what he had just seen. His eyes must have deceived him, but they hadn’t. He was shocked into inactivity. Then he looked at the emperor quickly hiding that dildo. He realized that the emperor had seen his reaction, and knew that he knew. Travis quickly looked away and tried to adopt an air of nonchalance, starting to act as he would normally act.

The emperor hadn’t even bothered to replace the blindfold that had so suddenly come off when the strap broke. He unlocked the cuffs that had kept Travis’ hands bound in front of him, pulled far up and away, making his ass easily accessible.

The emperor quickly got dressed and, noticing that Travis was now seeming to not have noticed, decided to adopt a normal attitude of his own. “Our play session is over, Travis. I need to get back to my civic duties. Goodbye.”

Travis inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. As he left the palace he hoped that his life would be spared. He didn’t want to even see his friends and talk about his play session. No one would believe what he had seen of the emperor. If word of that got around it would mean the end of any respect people had for their emperor. Travis knew that he would never breathe a word of what he had seen, but could the emperor take the chance of someone knowing his deepest, darkest secret? He didn’t think so.

Travis decided that the best thing for him to do now was to quickly pack up and leave. He was in his room packing when there was suddenly a loud knock at the door. Travis was suddenly filled with dread and he started shaking. He knew that the front door was the only way in or out of his small living quarters, so he had no choice but to answer the door. There was no place to hide. He quickly closed his suitcase and shoved it under the bed. He went to the door just as it was forced open.

“Travis Mendenhall, you are to come with me.” The big, burly emperor’s guard was accompanied by three others, all of whom had their weapons drawn. Travis’ fears were realized. He was ordered to strip naked. He soon found his hands tightly cuffed behind him, a large padlock attached to their middle, shackles locked onto his ankles with a heavy chain between which had a loop in the middle which was designed for that padlock to fit through. Most important of all, Travis was tightly gagged so he couldn’t say anything. He was patted down for anything hidden on his body.

The lead guard, the one who had spoken, pulled Travis’ hands up painfully toward his neck and started marching him away by holding these. This all caused his 7-inch long cock to stand out erect. As he was leaving, Travis noticed the other guards pointing down to his cock and smiling to themselves. He expected that, now that he was taken prisoner, the level of cock that would now be entering his ass would be from a much lower class of person.

Travis was marched to a waiting van. He was walked into the back, a large metal collar that was attached to the top of the van was locked onto his neck, his legs were pulled back with his ankles brought up toward his wrists to allow that large padlock to be closed through the loop in the middle of the connecting chain between his ankles’ shackles. His ankles and legs were lying on the floor, but the collar was pulling his chest up into the air. Travis was choking. He knew that his life was now going to be one of constant torment. With this thought his cock was trying to hump the floor of the van as it went speeding off.

After the van was driven through the several heavy metal gates, allowing it inside the deep bowels of the emperor’s prison, Travis could start hearing screams of pain. He wondered if he was going to be tortured like these guys were, but he knew that his gag would not be coming out when he was conscious. He figured that he was going to have to be allowed to eat and drink, but wondered how that would be possible through that tight gag.

Finally when the van stopped, Travis was released from the hogtie and chained collar. He was removed from the van and started being forced into the prison, held by his cuffed hands which were again brought painfully far up his back. He was taken far into the bowels of the prison, through other locked doors, past the cells where he could see prisoners being tortured, which elicited the screams of pain he had been hearing. There were more heavy metal doors that he was led through, doors that could only be opened with keys. Finally he was at the end of the last hallway. The last cell door was opened and he was taken inside. There were no other prisoners in this room of cells.

First the loop in his ankle shackles was locked onto another chain that was welded to the bottom of the cage. The shackles were then locked together. A heavy metal collar was locked onto his neck. At least this one wasn’t choking him. Finally a chain was lowered down, his cuffed hands were pulled up as far as they could go and they were locked to the chain. Travis was forced to bend over at the waist to avoid his arms from being wrenched from his shoulders. This was a very painful position to maintain, something called strappado.

Travis’ pants were lowered down, and the guard who had brought him in unzipped his pants and brought out his erect dick. He thrust it into Travis’ exposed ass, and started humping Travis. He soon shot his load. He stepped aside, and let the next guard have his turn. The guards had lined up when the chief guard had started in, and all had their pants down waiting their turn.

Travis knew that he was now going to be a hole for eager guards to get their cocks off. The child bearing women of this empire were all designated to be breeders, set aside for only the most fit males to impregnate, with the older women assigned the task of helping raise the offspring. It was one of the edicts from the emperor, to produce the best breed of offspring in order to improve the empire. The emperor himself had a large family of offspring. It was assumed that the emperor was well endowed to have so many fine looking heirs. His subjects respected him for this. But after what Travis had seen, he now wondered who the fathers were of these offspring.

Time passed slowly for Travis. The problem of having his gag removed so he could eat and drink was resolved in a way he hadn’t expected. The guard who performed this task was deaf. Whatever Travis had to say meant nothing to this guard. The emperor’s deepest, darkest secret was safe.

As he had expected, Travis performed a role that the male guards needed. Without any women available to satisfy the guards’ cocks, Travis became the one to satisfy them. His gag never came out when anyone who had ears visited him – only the deaf guard who fed him had the key to it. Travis at least had someone who came by each morning to change the bucket that was placed under his cock, as well as the one that was placed under his butt and to clean it before the guards utilized it, and to bathe him once every other day. Travis realized that, after all, if the guards were going to be using him, they needed him to be clean, or at least, relatively so.

Occasionally, when there would be other guards waiting their turn, Travis would hear snatches of gossip. In this way he could at least pick up little pieces of information of what was going on outside the prison. This was how, one day, that he heard that the emperor had died and that the crown prince was now the new emperor. Travis wondered if his status would change with the emperor now dead, that his deepest darkest secret would now not matter if it were revealed. But as the days passed Travis saw no change in his status. He was still kept a secure prisoner deep in the deepest bowels of the emperor’s prison.

Travis now had a beard and mustache, but with the person coming by once a week to clean him, his hair was regularly cut and his beard and mustache trimmed. After all, the guards preferred having someone be decent looking that they shot their seed into.

Finally, one day, the guards quit coming on a regular basis. Travis wondered what this meant. He couldn’t ask the guy who fed him regularly three times a day, but he looked at him questioningly and tried acting out what he was trying to communicate. The guard who came three times a day had never seen Travis try to communicate with him for all those years, and realized that something had changed to get him to want to try now. The guard thought he knew.

After this guard had left the cell, he got some paper and a pen and wrote down the answer to what he figured Travis was trying to ask. The next time he came to feed Travis, he showed him the writing. It said, “new emperor revokes edict limiting women to breed only with the best men. Guards now able to copulate with women.” Travis nodded his head, and mouthed the words ‘thank you.’ He now understood why the guards were no longer visiting him to get their cocks shot off. But he still remained in that prison.

In that strappado position, Travis’ arms had long since gone numb, and were useless to him. He had to keep adjusting his feet during the day to keep them from going numb as well. It had been difficult at first for him to sleep at night, but he was now used to sleeping while standing, or rather bent over.

Finally, one day, the guard who had originally taken Travis to his cell, and who had frequently visited him during his stay, came by to release him. Travis couldn’t believe it. His collar was removed, the cuffs were removed from his wrists, and the shackles were removed from his ankles. Most important, the gag was removed from his mouth by someone who could hear. As they were taking the long, slow walk out of the prison, doors periodically unlocked as they went through, then locked afterwards, Travis finally asked, “what happened?”

“The new emperor has pardoned the prisoners who were here that had not committed crimes.”

After another pause for a door to be opened and shut, Travis said, “that was very kind of him to do so.”

“Yes, it was strange that the son of that previous emperor would do something kind.”

“The previous emperor couldn’t have been the father of the current emperor.”

The guard thought about this for a second, then stopped escorting Travis out. “You’re saying our emperor is a bastard? How dare you!”

Travis thought ‘uh, oh.’ Before long Travis found himself back in that cell again, taken with his cuffed hands pulled painfully up his back again, put back into the same restraints he had just been removed from. But this time the collar put on was exceedingly tight, and the cuffs were ratcheted shut much tighter than they had been before. After Travis was tightly restrained and the cell closed and locked, it was a few minutes before that guard was back with some clamps to put on Travis’ nipples. When those were put on, Travis started yelling into his gag from the pain.

The guard stepped aside to listen until Travis finally calmed down enough to allow him to hear anything the guard had to say. “From now on you will be tortured. We can’t have anyone saying, or even thinking, such a bad thought about our emperor. He is beloved by all of us after that evil emperor that preceded him.”

Travis knew he had not meant to disparage the current emperor, but was just stating a fact that he knew. But again, there was no way for him to communicate this. The attitude of all the guards and cleaning person that visited him now was definitely hostile toward him. The guard had told them all, and they clearly thought that Travis was a terrible person to have said that.

More years passed. Travis had long ago resigned himself to living a life of pain and misery, locked away in the bowels of that prison. Guards would periodically come by to torture him. He would get hoarse from his screams of pain. And all because of that one statement he’d made. He became extremely depressed, more so than he’d been when confined initially.

Finally, one day, another guy came in to see him. This guy was not dressed in the tight-fitting black leather uniforms of the guards, but was wearing a business suit. He said, “The emperor has instituted prison reforms. I can’t find any crime you’ve committed which would justify your being here, and I think you should be released. However, I will first have to finish my entire review of all the prisons and file my report. If it should be adopted, then you will be released. I just want you to know that there is hope yet.” Then the guy left.

Travis started feeling better. He was starting to come out of his depression. But he realized that it was going to take time. He waited. The guards continued their periodic tortures. Nothing seemed to change from when he was brought back into this cell after that ill-said statement. Every time a guard came to unlock his cell, Travis hoped that this would be the time he would be getting out. But it never turned out to be the case.

Then, one day, other guards came to open his cell. He started being released from the restraints that kept him attached to the cell. The gag, cuffs and ankle shackles were kept on, and he was escorted out of the cell, through that massive metal door, and down the hallway. Travis hoped that this meant that he was finally going to be released, but didn’t know for sure. After all, he was still restrained as he’d been when he was first taken to that prison, though without this guard pulling his cuffed hands painfully up his back.

Travis was taken to a room and sat down in a chair. His arms were put over the back of the chair, his cuffed hands were pulled down and his ankle chain was brought up to attach to the open cuffs that were still attached to his handcuffs. He was, in effect, locked onto that chair. His gag was kept in, and the guards stood aside and waited. After about 15 minutes a group of guards came in and sat down at the table in front of the chair. One of them told the guard to remove the prisoner’s gag. Travis finally had his gag out again with people present who could hear, but he knew that these were guards, that this appeared to be a formal session, and he started to ask what was happening.

The guard who had spoken immediately shouted at him, “Quiet! You are only allowed to answer our questions.”

He picked up a piece of paper and started reading from it. “This meeting is being recorded.” Travis then noticed a machine going on the side of the table.

“You are prisoner Travis Mendenhall, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“According to our records you have been a prisoner here for a little over 27 years. Is that correct?”

“I haven’t kept track of the time, Sir, but that could very well be accurate.”

“What crime did you commit to be sent here?”

“I didn’t commit any crime, Sir. I saw something that would have been embarrassing to the previous emperor, and he put me here so I couldn’t say what I saw.”

“Have you ever been tortured while in this prison?”

Travis was thinking that the prison reforms were finally taking effect, and he was maybe going to be compensated for what he’d been put through as well as being released. He breathed a sigh of relief and replied “Yes, Sir.”

“How recently has that been?”

“This morning, Sir.”

This brought some reaction from the guards at the table. The recording machine was turned off. They started discussing in private the implications of what they’d heard, and finally the guards stood up. The chief one said, “Prisoner Mendenhall, we can’t release a prisoner who makes such accusations. Guards, return him to his cell.”

Travis noticed the recording machine being rewound as the guards off to the side started releasing his restraints from being attached to the chair and the ones at the table left the room. Travis started yelling into his gag, but the guards just ignored him. It didn’t take long for Travis to be back in his familiar cell again. He was lapsing once again into a deep depression.

His life did improve, however. He was no longer tortured. Also, his cuffs were loosened and he was no longer kept in the strappado position, and he wasn’t kept standing in that locked position. He was now free to roam about the cell. But this meant that he didn’t have guards visiting him as often as they had in the past. Travis was surprised to find that he missed the periodic visits, even though they meant being tortured. He now only had the person who took care of cleaning him, one he couldn’t communicate with because his gag was kept in, and the deaf guard who fed him, another he couldn’t communicate with. Neither of them spoke when in his cell. His life became a much lonelier one.

Years continued to pass. With the loosened restraints Travis was able to cope better with it. He was able to get some exercise. Some limited feeling returned to his arms. He was able to start to think that he might be an actual human being again. But only in a limited space. And what kind of a life did he have? He was just kept here, fed periodically. He never was able to do anything productive. He was just an expense to the country.

Then one day, that guy in the business suit returned to visit him again. When he saw Travis, he got a disgusted reaction. “You should have been released long ago! What are those imbeciles thinking!”

After saying this the guy demanded that the guard let him out. Travis was hoping that this meant that he would soon be getting out. He was getting hopeful again. But he knew better than to get his hopes up too much.

The next day there seemed to be some excitement. A couple of guys were brought into cells near Travis in this room that was the bowels of the prison. They didn’t seem to have gags in, and were talking. Travis was trying to understand what they were saying. He finally got the gist of what had happened.

There had been a revolution. The military had overthrown the emperor. The military was now in charge. The prison was quickly filling up with new prisoners. The prison reforms were dispensed with. Travis realized this meant that he was going to be kept here.

That night the guards came into this part of the prison carrying torture devices. They started with the new arrivals. Without their gags, these guys were soon screaming with pain. The guards were enjoying torturing these new arrivals. Finally one of the guards looked over at Travis and said, “what about old Travis here? We haven’t been able to have any fun with him for years. He also got aroused when we’d torture him. Let’s start having fun with him again.”

Travis was having mixed emotions. He was so used to his life being one of being in that cell. He remembered the times when he would be tortured. He hated the pain, but remembered that he was sometimes turned on by it as well. And he enjoyed being the center of attention for some guards who would spice up his otherwise dull day.

Soon Travis had clamps on his nipples again, and he reacted by yelling into his gag. He also had clamps on his cock and balls. These were a new experience, they hurt like hell, and he was yelling from the pain of those. The guards locked his ankle chain back onto the position it had been locked to for all those years, locked his ankles back together again, and brought his cuffed hands back up in that painful strappado position to lock to the hanging chain which was still in his cell. The gag had still been kept locked on him, and the guards now started putting a clamp on his nostrils to cut off his air. When Travis would just be out of air he would try to shake his head to get the clamp off, which would cause the other clamps to start hurting all the more. The guards would laugh, remove the clamp from his nose for Travis to get some air, and put it back on. They were having fun. And Travis was finally having others visiting him again.

Finally the guards realized that the other prisoners had stopped screaming, and focused their attention back to the new arrivals, leaving Travis like he was. After they’d gotten the new ones in so much pain that they couldn’t think, some other guys came in who were obviously military brass and started questioning them. Travis strained his ears to listen, hoping to hear further news. He learned a lot about various people involved in the overthrow. When the military guys were finished, they told the guards, “No prisoners in this room are allowed to ever be released alive. And make sure they are all gagged. You are ordered to torture them constantly.” The military guys left, seemingly without even realizing that Travis was also in that room.

Travis couldn’t believe his ears. He was now going to be kept here permanently and tortured constantly, at least for as long as the military was in charge of this country. He started sinking into depression again.

The sadistic guards did their orders with enthusiasm. They were quite happy torturing the prisoners in this room. They had gagged the new arrivals, and all were constantly screaming into their gags every day, including Travis. He had not realized that there were so many ways a guy could be tortured. His collar was replaced with a tighter one, one that was choking him. He had learned about cuffs and shackles lined with internal spikes. He had also learned about spiked cock sheaths. He would have a big metal butt plug up his ass that would excite his prostate when his cock was in one of those spiked cock sheaths. And always there were the clamps and the breath control games. They even would pull him up off his feet by attaching a chain to his collar and raising it, only lowering him after he’d passed out.

Travis was back to hoping for the quiet days when no one came by. He was getting very depressed from the constant pain and torture he was having to suffer. But he had been through so much that he had gotten somewhat jaded to it. The other guys had not been prepared for this treatment, and they soon fell into ill health. After time, Travis was back to being alone in that room. But that didn’t stop the guards from performing their orders.

Travis wondered how much more of this he would be able to take. But one day, the guards didn’t come by to torture him again. After a couple of days of not having these visitors, Travis again was wondering what had happened. He again tried to communicate with the deaf guard who was taking care of his feeding. The guard understood, and at the next meal he had a piece of paper ready with the news. Travis read, “the military has been replaced with an elected civilian ruler.” Travis again mouthed ‘thank you’ and nodded.

He wondered what this would mean for him. Nothing changed for a while. Then one day that same guy was back in his business suit. His hair was turning to gray and he had gained a few pounds, but it was the same guy. The guy looked at Travis and said, “I can’t believe you are still here. This is ridiculous. If I accomplish anything it will be to get you released.”

In a few days, guards came to release Travis from his cell. He was freed of all restraints. When he got to the front of the prison, he was given clothes to put on. They were much too big for his lean frame, but they were clothes. He hadn’t worn any for many years. Finally he was escorted out the front door. He had to have support to walk. There was that guy in the business suit to welcome him out of the prison. The guy introduced himself, and he stuck out his hand to shake. Travis tried lifting his, but couldn’t. The guy saw this, and grasped it to shake it.

The sun was shining. Travis realized that he hadn’t seen the sun in a long, long time. The guy introduced Travis to another who was there. “This is Jacob. He’s writing a series for the newspaper about prisoners who were put in by that evil emperor many years ago. He’d like to include your story.”

The guy was accompanying Travis, helping him walk, since Travis was pretty unsteady on his feet. Travis couldn’t use his arms at all. The reporter asked, “Were you tortured while you were in that prison?”

Travis knew what had happened when he said he had been, and replied “no.”

The reporter then said, “You’d been in that prison for 48 years. Do you even remember why you were sent there?”

Travis remembered. He also remembered the reaction of that guard when he’d alluded to it, as well as all the others who would visit his cell. And he remembered all the changes in government while he was in prison. The reporter continued, “If you’ve remembered could you please tell me? It wasn’t recorded anywhere.”

Travis looked at the guy and said, “I don’t remember.”

Travis kept his mouth shut about what he’d seen all those years ago. He’d mentioned it once, and it got him put back into that prison cell. He decided to never mention it again. He was finally freed from that prison and he didn’t ever want to give anyone else a reason to put him back in there again. But the old emperor’s deepest secret was never revealed.

Metal would like to thank Mister-X / Spartan for this story!

To see this and much more, go to Serious Male Bondage

By Mister-X / Spartan

I was standing in the middle of nowhere. My instructions were to take the bus to that location and get off. I looked around and saw nothing but flat land that had crops growing on it. I felt like that Cary Grant character in the Hitchcock movie “North by Northwest.” Fortunately I didn’t see any crop-dusting plane starting to come toward me. At least, not yet.

There was also another important difference from the character in the movie. I had been given a coat to wear on the journey along with the bus ticket. The instructions were to empty out my bowels and bladder before boarding the bus, as well as to get something to eat, then put on the coat, zip it up, fasten the belt, but don’t put my hands in the pockets or raise the hood. It would be a two-hour bus ride.

After I was on the bus, I was told to go to the back of the bus away from other passengers, to pull out the flap which was attached to the inner part of the jacket, strap the flap over my mouth and attach it to the other side, a flap which had a penis gag in the middle, to pull another flap tightly over my neck and attach it to the other side, to pull up the hood of the coat, and pull the drawstrings tight, only allowing my eyes to appear from the hood for anyone looking at me. Only then was I to put my hands into the pockets of the coat which would trigger cuffs that would snap together over my wrists. The cuffs were attached to the belt. I was to be effectively cuffed and gagged inside this heavy coat while riding on that bus. The instructions said that the person already sitting in the back of the bus would check to make sure that I had done the instructions.

The guy already sitting in the back of the bus and I exchanged slight nods. After I sat down I followed the instructions to the letter. I was used to doing that from my time in the military. We followed instructions. I found the coat to be heavy and snug-fitting. The guy who checked me stayed on the bus after I got off. There was one other problem. It was the middle of summer.

Back out on the road I was sweating profusely, bundled heavily in this coat, unable to remove it since my hands were cuffed. I’d wondered why I was doing this, following these instructions. I had gotten them in the mail anonymously. They offered me a large sum of money if I followed them explicitly, and included some money to entice me. I was out of work, hadn’t been able to find work, and I sure needed that money. So I succumbed to the temptation. And now I was standing alongside a road intersection in the middle of nowhere, waiting for, well, for something or someone, sweating heavily as I waited. I couldn’t imagine that they had put me to all this elaborate effort just to get me away from where I lived, though the thought did enter my mind.

Finally from a distance I could see a car approaching from the direction that the bus had gone to. It took a couple of minutes for the car to get to where I was standing. The car just whizzed on by. It was just like that movie. But I had been so engrossed in that car that I didn’t hear one approaching from behind me. That one stopped alongside me and the back door was opened. I got in. No word was spoken, but the intent was obvious. I didn’t want to continue standing there in that hot sun in the heavy coat.

There was another guy in the back seat. He reached over and locked shackles on my ankles. These had a foot-long chain between, so at least I would be able to walk. He also put a large elastic blindfold over my eyes. And he put earplugs in my ears. I thought, ‘see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.’ I couldn’t do any of the three. And I wondered if there was some evil involved that had made them offer such a large amount of money to get me to come on this strange journey. I wondered where they were taking me and why they wanted me. They obviously didn’t trust me.

When the car stopped, the door was opened next to me and I was pulled out. I was walked into a building. That much I could figure out. After that I was walked, periodically being stopped, but that was all I could figure out. I was taken to a chair, pushed down onto it, and strapped to the chair. Legs, both above and below the knee, stomach, chest, all were strapped to the chair. None of the other restraints were removed. I was left like that for some time. I was getting hungry and I needed to take a pee. But all I could do was wait. I learned to do a lot of that in the military, too.

Finally my earplugs were removed. I heard a voice. “Gentlemen, welcome to my home.” That was my first indication that there was more than just me and to what kind of building I was in. My blindfold was still on so I couldn’t see who else was there. The voice continued “I have brought you here because I am in need of your services. All of you had outstanding careers when you were in the military, but have had a difficult time adjusting to your life as a civilian. I need you to make use again of the specialized skills you had when you were in the military. You will now be taken to your rooms.”

I heard some shuffling as straps were removed and guys had gotten up. I was one of the last ones to be released from my chair and taken away. I still had all the restraints on that were there when I was being brought to this room. There was more than one person who took me to my room. When I was inside the room, I was faced inside, the hood of the coat was lowered and the gag was unstrapped at the same time as the blindfold was removed from behind me. As soon as they were off, the door was closed and I heard the sound of a key locking it. I still had the shackles on my feet, my hands were in those cuffs, and I was in that heavy coat.

I looked around my room. There was a bed and a little kitchenette. If I had the use of my hands I would be able to utilize it. Suddenly I felt the cuffs and shackles being opened, and I pulled my hands and ankles out. I looked around to see who had done it, but found no one else in the room. I immediately took off the coat and went into the bathroom to take a pee. I had never heard of cuffs or shackles being opened remotely, but I was happy that they were. I went over to the refrigerator and cupboard and found that there was food. I was hungry. I decided what I wanted to eat, and fixed myself dinner. After I’d finished eating, I went to the front door and verified that it was locked and I couldn’t get out. I thought for a minute, and looked up to see a camera focused on my movements. So I was being watched. I realized that they still didn’t trust me.

I started to check out what else was in that room. The first thing I noticed was a number printed on everything. It was the number ‘6.’ It was on the telephone, on the door, on the lamp, on the bed, on every bit of furniture on the room. I figured that I was now going to be called by my room number, not my real name. And I figured that all the others would be treated the same way to keep us from knowing each other. I was impressed with that tactic. ‘When you are a number you are de-humanized’ was one of my lessons from my military training.

I couldn’t find anything else in my inspection of my room. It was just a normal room, other than that number. Then I thought about the telephone. That could be a link to the outside. I looked at the explanations on the front for the use of the phone. It said that to contact the office, dial ‘0.’ To contact other rooms, dial the room number. I picked up the phone and found that it was dead. I searched for the wires to see if they were connected, and found that they were. The phone was ready to work, but it was dead. ‘To isolate the prisoner cut off all communications from him’ was another of my lessons from my military training. I realized that I was a prisoner here.

After that strange journey and the strange situation I found myself in, I finally started getting sleepy. I had been told not to bring my watch or cell phone, so I had no way of finding out what time it was. I looked around and found no clocks. There was no clock on the oven. There was no television set for me to find the time. It then dawned on me that I had no spare clothes. There was a closet in the room. I went over to it to see what spare clothes were there, and got a surprise. What was inside was a military uniform. I checked in the chest of drawers and found nothing. I had no spare underwear or other clothes.

I decided to take off my clothes and try on the olive-drab uniform to see if it even fit. There were pants which I tried on first. They were snug-fitting, the right size, made of wool combined with some other fabric that stiffened them. The only other part was that tunic. When I took it off the hanger I found that it was heavy. It was obviously well-made, also made of similar material to the pants. I put my arms through the sleeves and found that it was the right sleeve-length. There was a hard white plastic liner at the end of the sleeves.

I started buttoning up from the bottom. The buttons were brass, and had been shined. I had to suck my stomach in, but could get the buttons closed. It was even the right size over my thick chest. Last I fit the hooks of the hard stand-up collar into the loops on the other side. I had to hold my head up high to get it on. The collar was high and tight, not just snug, and was higher in the front than in the back. It seemed to be that same kind of wool blend, and was put over metal which went all the way around the collar. It also had a hard white thin plastic liner inside the collar. I had to keep my head held high to prevent the sharp top of that collar liner from poking painfully into the underside of my chin. I found that I couldn’t look down without that collar liner poking in, so I had to undo the collar before putting on the rest of the clothes. I put on the shoes that were in the closet under the uniform, and found that they fit perfectly as well. I expected that by now. I pulled the belt tight and buckled it, and finally closed the collar again. I looked in the mirror and saw a sharp-looking guy dressed in a military uniform looking back at me. It was then that I saw the number ‘6’ on both the tunic and the pants.

So these guys knew the size of my clothes and had this special uniform made for me to wear. It forced me to keep my stomach sucked in, my shoulders up, and my head held high and erect, like a good military uniform should do. Plus it was snug fitting like a good military uniform should be. It felt good to be back wearing a uniform again. I realized that they’d gone to a lot of trouble. ‘Impress the prisoner with your knowledge of his personal habits to make him more pliable.’

I took off the uniform and hung it back up. I was getting sleepy and went to bed. I slept in the nude, the way I normally sleep anyway. I wondered if they knew that, too.

When I awoke in the morning I was at first unaware of where I was. Then it all came back. I got up and went into the bathroom. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste there. They were the kind I used. There was also a straight razor for me to use. This was weird. I decided to not wear the uniform to throw them off, but to put the clothes back on that I wore when I came here. After getting cleaned up in the bathroom, I came out to do that, only to find that the clothes I’d worn yesterday weren’t there. Neither were the ankle shackles and the heavy coat. Apparently when I had been asleep they had entered my room and removed them. I checked the closet and chest of drawers again, and found only that uniform that I’d tried on last night. There wasn’t even any underwear. If I was going to be dressed I would have to wear that uniform. I put it on. ‘To make a prisoner do what you want him to do, give him only one option.’

I started to fix myself some breakfast. When I’d finished I heard my door open. There were three men standing there in the same kind of uniform I was wearing. They were armed, but none of their weapons were drawn. They looked ready for a fight. One of them said “we will need you to come with us, number 6. But first we must cuff your hands behind your back, blindfold and gag you. It would be easier if you allowed us to do that, but if you try to resist we are quite prepared to force you.” I could tell from the looks on their faces that they were hoping I would resist. I calmly backed up to them with my hands behind my back. With that much control I knew that it would be useless to resist. I was soon cuffed, blindfolded and gagged and being led away, walking erect in that uniform. ‘To get the prisoner to willingly comply with something he doesn’t want to do, overwhelm him with a show of force.’

I was marched to where I was going. It felt good to be back marching again. When I was called to a halt, I was ordered to stay at attention where I was standing. I was hearing others marched in like I was. Finally all of us seemed to be present. That voice started speaking to us again.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Each of you has a military specialty. Number 1 specializes in tracking people. Number 2 specializes in capturing people. Number 3, you specialize in subduing people, making them prisoners. Number 4, you specialize in transporting prisoners. Number 5, you specialize in securing prisoners. Number 6, you specialize in using psychology in breaking down prisoners’ resistance. Number 7, you specialize in using torture in breaking down prisoners’ resistance. Number 8, you specialize in interrogating prisoners. Number 9,” The list continued. The last one was number 31. I was surprised at how many of us were gathered and also at the variety of specialties. I still couldn’t see.

“Each of you will be challenged in your specialty with the objective of honing your skills back to the level they were at when you left the military. Some of you will be working together. Not all of you are here. We do not have need for all of you yet. Numbers 1 and 2 are dealing with tracking and capturing their third person. When we have need of your services we will be taking you where you need to go. Until you are needed, you are free to return to your rooms. However, you will be periodically tested for your loyalty while here, so expect periodic tests. Those who fail the loyalty tests will become prisoners and will be replaced.”

I heard others start to be led away. I could sense that my escorts were nearby, and I could not leave until they ordered me to. If there were 3 guards for each of us, that would mean 93 such guards. That would have to be a great expense. What could possibly justify such a big operation? Someone certainly has some big bucks who is behind this. But then, the size of this facility makes that obvious.

I was soon ordered to start marching away. I had no idea where I was being taken or what was planned for me. What could they do to hone the skills of someone like me who specialized in using psychology to break down prisoners’ resistance? They were correct in assessing my specialty.

I soon realized that I was not returning to my room. I was taken to another part of the facility. I heard a sturdy metal door being opened and closed. I was marched inside and ordered to wait while the door was closed. My blindfold and gag were removed, as well as my ankle shackles, but my handcuffs remained. I saw that I was in a prison. There were prisoners in the other cells. Apparently they needed me now.

“Number 6, you will be taken to a cell which is holding a prisoner. He is resisting attempts to break him down so he can be interrogated. You will be taken into his cell to join him. Your job is to break down his resistance.”

I was removed from the cell and continued to be marched, going up to his cell. They unlocked the cell door, and I was pushed into it. There was already another guy there, dressed in the same type of uniform I was in, his hands also cuffed behind his back, but otherwise with no blindfold or gag. The cell door was closed and locked, and the guards left. I didn’t know whether this was for real, or whether it was a test they had devised. I didn’t know whether I should do what they ordered, or avoid doing it. ‘Always keep a prisoner off balance, not knowing what is real and what is not.’

We looked at each other. Neither of us spoke. I noticed that his uniform had the number 32 on it. Finally the other prisoner said, “are you a plant?”

“I wondered the same about you.”

“I was the first one in this cell. You just got here.”

“So? You could have been put here to await my arrival. That’s an old trick.”

“You’ve got a lower number than I have.”

“That just means that I got captured earlier than you. Plants would have higher numbers.”

“How did they get you?”

“I was bribed into coming.”

“That’s going to make it difficult to either stay or return. You’re fucked either way.”

“I know. How did they get you?”

“They tricked me and captured me. I hadn’t even known that I was being followed. They’re good at what they do.”

“So what do we do now? Just wait?”

“I don’t know what they want.   Do you?”

“They want to utilize my skills. Do you have any skills they would want?”

“No.”

“Then they will want information that you have.”

“I won’t give them the information I have. I’ve resisted their efforts so far.”

“How well can you stand up to being tortured? I’ve found out that if you don’t willingly cooperate with them they’ll start torturing you.”

“Oh, fuck. I’ve never been one to be able to take being tortured. I don’t think I could handle that. What kind of torturing would they do?”

“I don’t know. All I know is, if you can’t stand to be tortured, then they’ll get the information from you that way. The only question is whether you do it willingly or under duress. You’ll have to make that decision.”

“What do you recommend?”

“That depends on what kind of person you are. I don’t know you, so I can’t make a recommendation.”

The guy thought that over for about an hour. I’ve had these matter-of-fact conversations with prisoners before. I’ve found that being frank and forthright, using logic, was the best way to get a prisoner to realize the position he was in and deal with it. He would know himself better than anyone else how he would react to the situation he was in. We were all taught to obey orders, to just give our name, rank and serial number, but when you’re facing the reality of the situation, it’s best to be practical.

After that hour the guy had obviously made up his mind. He went to the door and yelled out “guard! I’m ready to talk!” Soon three guards came, opened the door, and led him away. They left me. I wondered what would become of me. I had done the job they wanted me to do, assuming that this was a real situation and not a make believe one to test me, but I was kept cuffed in the prison cell. Finally three guards came back to my cell, and the door was opened. I recognized the same three guards who had brought me here.

“Very good, number 6. You did your job, and quickly. We are impressed. But we noticed that you used a reference to torture, which number 7 does, and you didn’t know what kinds of torture he would do. We discussed it among ourselves, and decided that you could be much more effective if you knew what number 7 did. So we are going to give you over to number 7 to deal with.”

“Will he be torturing me?”

“Yes.”

“No! I don’t need to be tortured to find out what he does.”

“We disagree. We think you will be more effective in talking to prisoners if you are. You need to experience what number 7 can do to people in order to dissuade prisoners from having to go through that.” He had a sadistic smile on his face when he said that. I noticed the other two guards were also smiling. They all came in and started restraining me further. I knew that to resist was futile. Soon in addition to continuing to have my hands cuffed I was gagged, blindfolded, had my ankles cuffed together, and knees belted together. I was left lying on the bed in the cell. I heard the door close and lock. The last words I heard were one of the guards saying “I want to watch number 7 in action.”

The head guard said “we’re all going to watch that. I’ve heard that he is the best at his craft. Number 6 will be the first prisoner he’s had a chance to practice on. It will be fun to watch.”

I was starting to sweat in that snug uniform. It seemed to have gotten tighter.

To be continued …

By Mister-X / Spartan

Soon I heard a cart being wheeled down the hallway. It was stopped at my cell, and my door was opened. I found myself being lifted off the bed by two men and taken over to where I thought the cart was stopped. I was set down, apparently on the cart. I was in a sitting position, though the seat was sunken, so that it would take quite an effort for me to get myself up and out of the seat even if completely unrestrained. I felt straps being placed over various parts of my body and being pulled tight. Over my ankles, over my lower legs, over my upper legs, on and on it went, each strap tightly attaching me to the cart, pulled tight and buckled. Finally, with the straps over my neck and mouth, I was ready to be transported. It was quickly and efficiently done.

I was wheeled down the hallway and into a large room. I could hear the sound of a lot of people talking, which gradually died down as I was wheeled into the room. Finally I was stopped being moved. I heard someone say “take off his blindfold. I always like to see the fear in my victim’s eyes.” The person’s voice was being magnified so it could be heard throughout the room.

I felt my blindfold being removed. After it was off, I saw that I was in a large room in a chair next to a table. The guy who was removing me from the chair had the number 4 on his uniform. The guy who was standing next to the table had the number 7 on his uniform. He was the one who was speaking. I noticed a lot of leather straps attached to both sides of the table. I also looked around the room and saw about 100 guys sitting there, all dressed in the same kind of uniform that the three of us wore.

As number 4 continued removing the straps keeping me in the chair, number 7 looked at me and said “so, number 6 is my first victim. You must have tried resisting what they wanted you to do so that you were sent to me.” I shook my head back and forth, since the straps covering it had been removed and I could move my head, but I was still gagged so couldn’t speak.

“Oh? That’s not the reason? Guard, remove his gag so I can talk with him.”

I noticed a guard off to the side come over to me, unlock and unbuckle my penis gag, removing it from me. I moved my jaws and licked my lips and started to answer. Number 7 moved his microphone next to my mouth as I did so. “On the contrary. I did my job well. I got the prisoner to be willing to volunteer his information. But in doing so I alluded to the tortures that you would inflict if the prisoner did not willingly volunteer the information. But since I didn’t know what those tortures entailed, my guards thought that I should experience them first hand so I could be more convincing in discouraging prisoners from being sent to you and instead would volunteer the desired information.”

“Discouraged from being sent to me?! That puts me in an awkward position. I want prisoners to be sent to me! I enjoy torturing them!” When he said this with such enthusiasm there was a reaction from the crowd, even some scattered applause and laughter. He continued “but if that’s what they want, that’s what I’ll have to give them. Besides, I’ve got an audience to perform my craft in front of. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them. Guards, remove him from the chair, remove his restraints, and remove his uniform. Then put him on the table.” By that time all the restraints keeping me in that chair had been removed, but I was still in the cuffs with knees belted like I had been left in the cell. These were removed, and my uniform was finally removed. I was now completely naked and unrestrained.

The guards lifted me onto the table, held me down, and started attaching the straps over me to secure me to the table. There were a lot of straps, and this took some time. I noticed that the guard in charge of this had the number 5 on his uniform. I noticed that there was a camera focused on me, and number 7 was making sure that it was working properly and was broadcasting. I glanced over to see a huge screen which most of the audience was looking at.

When I was completely strapped to the table, I tried testing my bonds, and found that I couldn’t move. Number 7 tested each of them, and was satisfied that they were working properly. As he was doing this, he quietly said to me with the microphone turned off. “I won’t be too harsh on you, since we’re on the same team and my tortures can sometimes permanently damage my victim’s psyche. But for the benefit of the audience I’d appreciate it if you reacted as if I were being harsh.”

I responded with “go ahead and give it your best. I’ll cooperate as best I can.” He looked at me a little strangely, and nodded his head.

My cock was sticking in the air. Number 7 was smiling and pointed it out to the audience when he saw this. It also brought a reaction from a number of the people in the audience. I heard some of them calling it to their friends’ attention.

Number 7 started his lecture after turning the microphone back on. “Always it is best to have the prisoner naked to be tortured. I focus on certain parts of the body which are normally covered up. These are the vulnerable parts. My job is to inflict pain. Mind numbing, intense pain. Pain so hard to deal with that it blots out all logical thought. And all the while I tell the prisoner that all he has to do to stop the pain is to tell us what he knows.” I was starting to sweat as he was talking.

“There are certain parts of the body that are basically raw nerve endings. Since they are normally sensitive, and people cannot function with raw nerve endings exposed all the time, these have become numbed. It’s the body’s way of hiding its vulnerabilities. My job is to bring out these raw nerve endings and use them to my advantage. One such area is the nipples. They are sensitive to the touch.” He started lightly running his fingers along the tips of mine, and I started reacting, as did my cock, rising more.

“But they also react to pain.” He had gotten two metal tit clamps in his hands when he said this and suddenly clamped them viciously on my nipples. I reacted by yelling full throat from the pain. I didn’t have to fake this. I noticed a shocked reaction from the audience. “That’s just one such part of the body. There are others. For example, these are sensitive.” He grabbed my balls in his fist and squeezed them. I tried jerking my head up in response, prevented, of course, by the straps, as I let out another full-throated yell. I was wondering when he was going to start taking it easy on me. I wondered if he construed my response as deciding to not take it easy on me.

“And there are ways of sending painful shocks to these sensitive areas. I have these little devices which I can hook up to sensitive areas with wires connected to them which can send electric shocks. These can be mildly pleasant, stimulating the areas targeted, or they can be strongly painful, sending excruciating pain to the areas targeted. All it takes is to adjust the dial on the box connected to the wires. I could show you how painful they can get, but I think number 6 has experienced enough pain in those areas already. He can imagine how painful those shocks can be.” I was already sweating profusely from the little he’d already done, and I nodded my head up and down vigorously as he looked at me with that wicked smile on his face. My reaction was shown to the audience, and there was laughter when they saw it.

“Then there are the ways of scaring prisoners by cutting off their air supply. To demonstrate the various ways this can be done, I will need to gag number 6 again. He released the straps over my head and neck so my head could be brought up. He stuffed a cloth into my mouth and started wrapping duct tape around and around my head. “I prefer to completely fill a prisoner’s mouth and make sure that not a speck of air can enter into it from outside.”

When he was finished he continued, “there are a number of methods that can be used. I like to try them all to see which gets the biggest reaction. The simplest is to just close the nostrils, either with fingers or with a simple clothes pin.” As he was saying this he put his fingers over my nostrils. He continued talking for a minute about how the prisoner would try to move his head to try to get the fingers removed, that you had to exert force to make sure that he didn’t succeed. And he said how long that the normal prisoner could hold out, and what was the longest time one had held out before passing out. He went on to talk about whether it was best to let the prisoner completely pass out or just take him to the brink before removing your fingers. He said that he preferred going to the brink because it was so much more effective if the prisoner retained consciousness, not knowing whether he would completely lose air the next time, and you could immediately begin again while the prisoner had that fear in his mind. I was by now about to pass out, shaking my head to try to get his fingers away from my only source of air, when he removed his fingers just in time. I was quickly breathing in and out as he continued giving his lecture.

He next brought out a plastic bag and put it over my head, talking about the various ways of securing it, showing how, as I would exhale and breathe back in what I had exhaled, the bag would gradually shrink down closer to my head. He also said that some prisoners would get off on this, and would ejaculate just before the air would run out. Just as I was about to run out of air, he removed the bag from me. As if on cue, I had started erupting cum onto my chest. Number 7 got a smile and said “see? Just like that.” The audience was laughing. I was embarrassed.

Number 7 continued about choking, strangling and hanging someone with a noose. He said that he didn’t want to get into those options for this lecture, but those were options that could be used. He smiled and said “maybe when I have more time I can demonstrate the electricity, choking, strangling and hanging. I’m sure that you would enjoy seeing this. Since number 6 is being such a good volunteer, maybe I can try these out on him.” There was applause from the audience. I was starting to shake from the thought.

Then he switched to the subject of beatings. He brought out various paddles, canes, whips and prangers, showing the properties, saying that the paddles with holes in them were best since the air would not cushion the blow with those, and talking about the effects of each, all of them causing pain, getting the skin red, canes causing stinging and often cutting the skin, and the whips concentrating great pain in the area it hit. He cracked a whip in the air to demonstrate how much force it would generate. “Again, I would need a longer session to demonstrate these on number 6.” I started shaking at the thought.

He brought out a little paddle with a long handle. “There are some smaller devices that can be quite effective in dealing with those sensitive areas I had started talking about. This one, for example, is very good at hitting a person’s balls.” He used it on mine, hitting them hard. I reacted into my gag with a full-throated yell, as well as by jerking my body. “As you can see, it always gets a reaction.”

“There are other ways of punishing someone. Hanging them in the air with their entire body weight supported by their hands or ankles, lifted in the air by their cuffed hands behind their backs, a particularly painful method called ‘strappado.’ These I reserve for positions to leave the prisoner in after I’ve finished with him for the day. Since there is no need for the prisoner to talk when I’ve finished with him for the day, I always leave the prisoner gagged when I do this. I’ll demonstrate ‘strappado’ to you with number 6. Guards, release him and cuff his hands behind his back.”

I didn’t want to have that done to me, particularly not for overnight. But I didn’t have a choice. I again knew that to resist was futile. Soon I was off that table, hands cuffed behind my back, taken to a chain that was hanging down from the ceiling over at the side of the room. I had the chain attached to my handcuffs, and it was pulled up. As it would go up, I would start to bend forward at the waist. Soon I was forced up into the air. The pain on my shoulders was excruciating. I was starting to yell again from the pain.

Number 7 had come over to me. He said to the audience “as you can see he is in quite a lot of pain from this. You can come down and get closer to the prisoner. Also notice that his body is completely exposed while he is like this. For example, you could grab his balls” he grabbed my balls and squeezed them hard, eliciting a louder yell into my gag, “or grab his dick” he grabbed my shaft and squeezed hard, again eliciting a louder yell into my gag. “Keep in mind, the purpose is to give the prisoner as much pain as possible, again telling him that the torture will only stop when he is willing to volunteer the information you need, or to modify his behavior to what you need him to do. In the case of leaving him in a painful position overnight, you tell him that you will leave him to think about it and ask him again in the morning. Sometimes I would return in a couple of hours if I thought that the prisoner was close to breaking.”

Some of the audience got into it by grabbing my balls or dick and squeezing them hard. I also had guys twisting my toes back. When number 7 saw this he said, “be careful. Remember, number 6 is on our side. He is just here to learn, so don’t get carried away in your punishment.” I mentally thanked number 7 for saying this.

Finally number 7 and the audience left the room. I was kept there hanging by my cuffs. My shoulders were in intense pain. At last my guards came up to me with my uniform. Number 4 was also there with the prisoner transport chair. I was lowered down, had my cuffs removed, and got dressed. Afterwards I was cuffed again, put back in all the restraints I had on when I was on the bed in that cell, and was again strapped into that transport chair. Wheeled back to the cell I’d been in, I was removed from the chair and laid back down on the bed, still restrained as I’d been before when there. Number 4 left with the chair, and my main guard said, “it was felt that you would be most effective in relating with the prisoner if you were already in the cell restrained. This cell will now be your new home.” Having said that, he and the other guards closed the cell door and left me lying there.

Of more immediate concern to me was when I would be allowed to pee, and when I would be fed. I didn’t know if that was part of the torture that number 7 had ordered done. It would certainly be another effective means of torture.

It wasn’t long before my guards returned. They opened my cell door, sat me up, still restrained as I was, unzipped my pants, and put a jar under my penis for me to pee into. When that was done, they lay me down on the floor, took off my gag and blindfold, and put a bowl of food and a bowl of water in front of me. I realized that I was going to have to eat and drink out of the bowls without the use of my hands. The guard said “this is how we feed prisoners. You will be treated this way as well. You are not to talk. If you do so, you will not be fed.”

I started eating as best I could. Food got messed on my face. I was able to get rid of some of it by dropping my face in the bowl of water after I had drunk my fill, but I couldn’t get rid of all of it. When I finished they put the cloth back in my mouth and wrapped more duct tape around it, adding the blindfold as well. They made no attempt to wipe my face off. They lay me back on the bed. I figured that this was now going to be my life, interrupted periodically by prisoners that I was to try to convince to tell them what they knew.

I got to thinking about what I had seen earlier. Everyone was dressed in the same kind of uniform. That included the guards, those of us who were brought here for specific purposes, and the real prisoners that I was to convince to tell what they knew. That must mean that this is an internal branch of some military unit, and they were trying to weed out some internal problem that they were having. At least I wasn’t involved in some war or power grab that some guy was planning, which was what I originally had thought. I felt better about my job. Of course, it still could be that one of the officers was secretly trying to take over the unit. They kept us in the dark about what our purpose is. I was also used to that from my time in the military.

I started getting a regular flow of cell mates. My cell mates would not be gagged or blindfolded, and would eventually remove mine with their hands, which were always cuffed behind their backs. We could then get to talking, and they would ask me about the place, seeing that I had been there longer. The subject soon came to what these people wanted, and we would soon venture into the same kind of conversation I would have about the options that were open to the prisoner for either volunteering the information he knew or having it forced from him by torture. I started keeping track. Slightly over half would realize it would be best if they volunteered it. The others who wouldn’t would be taken away on that transport chair by number 4. I would soon start hearing their screams from down the hall. After the cell mate would be removed, my guards would always return and put me in the same restraints I was normally kept in in this cell, gag and blindfold put back on. My face was never cleaned, the guards thinking it added a touch of authenticity to me.

As the days passed I wondered how long this was going to keep up. It was about a month and a half before the steady stream of cell mates started slacking off. Finally there hadn’t been another one for a week. At this time I was removed from my cell and taken back to my room. I was badly in need of cleaning up, since I stunk. Again, my guards thought that my body odor added a touch of authenticity. I was glad to finally have a chance to clean up so I quit smelling like a skunk. Fortunately I either had a new uniform, or they were able to clean the one I had been wearing, because the odor from that was also gone when I put it on the next day.

I figured that with 31 different specialists, and me being only number 6, there would be more time elapse before all 31 had finished their jobs with the prisoners. I was kept in my room for several weeks. Finally we were all summoned to another group meeting. As usual, I was cuffed, gagged and blindfolded, and marched to it. After we were all gathered, ‘the voice’ addressed us.

“Men, we have finished our mission. We have found the cancer in our organization and rooted it out. Our government owes you a debt of gratitude. However, you were so effective that it was felt that this unit should continue to remain together. There are other branches of our government that are having a similar problem to what we dealt with. So you will soon begin your jobs again. You will also be doubly compensated, having now another job to do. We look forward to your continued dedication and service in your specialty field.”

The speech having finished, I, and I’m sure my colleagues, were returned to our rooms, marched back the same way we came. So this isn’t finished yet. I was going to be kept here longer, still a sort of prisoner, still thought of as just number 6, not having a real name, my only identity being what my specialty was. I figured that if we were investigating another department, there was probably a different uniform that we would be wearing. I wondered what this new uniform would be like. I had gotten to like the one I had been wearing. I’d have to see how well the new one functioned. This one certainly had done its job. Everyone I saw was lean and trim, keeping at erect posture. That was quite a contrast to what I saw in the civilian world. My life here was a lot more fulfilling than my life as a civilian. I had been hoping that this little group of specialists would continue, and I got my wish.

My thoughts were interrupted by my guards entering the room again. “During the lull in the action, it was decided that all of you need to start making use of our gym facilities to get your bodies back into peak condition. We will take you to the gym one at a time in numerical order. Number 5 is there now.”

I was taken the usual way, marched while hands were cuffed behind my back, gagged, and blindfolded. When I got to the gym and my restraints removed, I was given gym clothes to put on by another guy I hadn’t seen before. My guards went over to number 5 who was there dressed in his uniform, and he was restrained as I was and marched away.

After I’d put on my gym clothes, the other guy who was there started leading me in a series of strenuous exercises. I soon realized that the time I had been restrained in that cell without regular exercise had started weakening my body, and I needed to start toughening it back again. When I had finally finished, exhausted from the routine, the guy said “I’ve set these at the amount you were able to do at this time. I will be expecting gradual improvements with each visit”. I was restrained as usual and returned to my room. I saw number 7 as I was leaving.

That night I was awakened from my sleep by one of the guards. He motioned for me to keep quiet. I was still groggy from sleeping, and wondered what was going on.

“I’ve found out that the unit is not being kept together for the reason that was stated, to root out internal problems elsewhere. Instead, it is being kept together to help our leader take over the running of this military branch. We can’t let this happen. He’s a madman. Witness how he got all of you here. I have been communicating with the current leader of this military branch, a good man who is loyal to our country’s leader. There are some of us who know what is going on, and some who are loyal to our unit’s leader, helping him in his quest. Those of us who are loyal to the current leader of this military branch figured that, with the help of you numbered guys, we can head this off. But for goodness sake don’t say anything about this conversation to anyone!”

“I noticed that there is a television camera looking at everything that happens in this room, recording it as well.”

“I’ve disabled those for these conversations I’ve been having. None of this is being recorded. But in the meantime, I’ll be back in touch, or one of our group will be.” He quickly left my room after saying this.

I couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t know what to think. We were warned about having our loyalty periodically tested. Was this a test or was it for real? If it was a test I should report it, but if it was for real then I should not report it. What should I do? I had no other information to go by, other than my suspicions when I got here that this special unit would be used for something like this. I finally realized that I had been given no opportunity to report anything anyway, so it didn’t do any good thinking about what I should do. With that, I went back to sleep.

To be continued …

By Mister-X / Spartan

Finally that day’s class was ended. He told everyone to come back the next day for the second day of class. He said that there would be a chance to get some hands-on experience by practicing some of the techniques he’d taught on a volunteer. He didn’t say who the volunteer was, but I knew. It was me.

I stuck around while the students filed out. Number 7 could see me and came up to me. I had several questions I wanted to ask him. He started by quizzing me. “Were you here for the whole session?”

“Yes.”

“So you know some of the torture that you will be experiencing?”

“Yes.”

“It’s important that you give a fair evaluation of the students. They need to know what they’re doing right and what they’re doing wrong. I’ll be there to observe and offer my opinion, as well as to hold them back from being too harsh on you.”

“I appreciate that. But I’ve got a few questions of my own. First, will every one of the approximately 100 students be practicing on me? I would think you should have more than one person for them to practice on.”

“Yes, I’ve wondered about that. The problem is that no one else wants to be the volunteer, and I couldn’t count on the prisoners here to be fair in their evaluations.”

“I don’t want it either. I was ordered to do it by you, so I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, well, you did so well when you were my volunteer before that I naturally thought of you. But I can see that having that many guys torturing just one guy isn’t going to work too well. You’ll be a wreck by the time the class ends.”

“That’s for sure. There must be others that you can ‘volunteer’ for this, just as you did me.”

“I’ll try to get some. See you tomorrow.”

As I was heading back to my room I realized that I didn’t have a chance to ask my other questions. At least I got my most important point across. I had to now start thinking about how to thwart Major Ashley’s plans without jeopardizing myself.

I got to the class early the next day. Number 7 was already there and was talking to some new guys. He saw me and motioned for me to join him. He said, “I discussed this problem with Major Ashley and he agreed with you. He ordered several of his long time staff who are staunch allies to be here as ‘volunteers.’”

“But they weren’t here yesterday to see what was done so they can provide an accurate evaluation.”

“Yes, I’ve thought of that. I’ll be reviewing those lessons again today, primarily for their benefit, but also to reinforce them to the students.”

Just then the prisoner was being wheeled in and number 7 went over to oversee transferring him to the table. It gave me a chance to get better acquainted with the new ‘volunteers.’ I explained to them that I was another who would be treated as they would be, but that I’d been here the day before to see what all was done. In response to their inquiries I started telling them what was done and what we were in for, as well as what our roles would be, providing feedback. None of us were looking forward to it.

While Number 7 was rehashing yesterday’s lessons, I would periodically look at the other ‘volunteers.’ Some of them would be looking appalled at the realization of what they were going to be soon experiencing. But there were a few who seemed to be secretly looking forward to it. I noticed that their cocks were tenting their uniform pants.

Finally it was time. There was still an hour or two before the dinner break, and I knew that this would provide plenty of time for them to get us into some intense pain. Initially it started out fairly easy, wrists and ankles cuffed, having clamps put on our tits, cock and balls after we were naked and had been put into chastity. Number 7 checked everyone to make sure that the students were doing it properly. He had divided the men into teams of five, each of them taking a turn at applying the designated type of torture with the other four inspecting and modifying as they saw fit.

The next phase was to apply electricity to the clamps on the cock, balls and chastity. Number 7 had them test the levels and the steady versus random. These were left on at a medium intensity while Number 7 explained the last one. This was to pull us up by our cuffed hands behind our backs into a strappado position. At least we weren’t pulled into the air, though we were forced to bend over. Before having the class go to dinner, he had them set the electricity to random and upped the intensity. He also had them gag us. He announced that after they returned from dinner we would be lifted into the air. I could see the looks on the faces of some of the men who were students in the class. They were obviously looking forward to doing this. Those of us ‘volunteers’ sure weren’t.

After dinner, which lasted a couple of hours, probably because Number 7 was continuing his lecture, the group returned for more practice. He explained how severe this strappado position was to be in for a long period of time, that the shoulders would be on fire. He had some of the men place their hands on our shoulders to notice our reactions, which confirmed his statement. He also said that the position would be far worse when we would be lifted into the air. This was confirmed when the students obeyed his order to do so. It was a good thing we were gagged, or we would have yelled some unpleasant things to the instructor.

After leaving us like that for about 15 minutes, he told the students to let us down, to turn off the electricity, and remove our ankle shackles. We were then taken by the students to each be put into one of those cells, still naked, still gagged, our hands still cuffed behind our backs. He wanted to make sure that we would be available to ‘volunteer’ at the next day’s class.

The class was for a week. We hadn’t had any torture the first day, so we had four days of that. I described the first two days. Each of the next three was worse than the previous. On the last day we were kept overnight stretched out in a rack, pulled as much as they could get us without having our arms pulled out of their sockets, the electricity turned on, gagged of course, and our breath periodically cut off. The plastic bags with the nose holes poked in were left on overnight. By the next morning, our joints aching from that position, our cock on fire from the electricity, we would have been willing to confess to anything. Number 7 was always there to supervise, making sure that everyone did their job properly.

After that we were returned to our cells for the remainder of the weekend, still gagged, hands still cuffed behind our backs. Number 7 let the class members loose on the real prisoners. These guys were not gagged, and I started hearing lots of screams coming from elsewhere in that prison area where we were kept. I figured that we were being kept available in case the students needed to continue practicing and no actual prisoners were available, but we didn’t seem to be needed.

During that week and weekend we were given meals periodically and allowed to take care of our morning duties, treated like I was when in the cell. We were treated decently when we weren’t being tortured. When it came time for us to be released Sunday night, Number 7 gathered all the students and us together. Those of us volunteers were fearful of what new tortures they were going to practice on us. But the gathering was just to thank us for volunteering to be tortured so the students could learn. That was when we were asked to evaluate. I wasn’t able to find any fault with anything any of the students did to me, finding them all to be equally mean, nasty and sadistic in their torture. When I told them this in those exact words, Number 7 and the five I was assigned were pleased to hear my evaluation. The other evaluations were similar to mine. All the students graduated with flying colors. They were ready to be let loose on an unsuspecting group of military staff in keeping with Major Ashley’s power plans.

I still hadn’t been able to come up with any plans of my own to thwart what Major Ashley was trying to accomplish. I realized that I would have to await my opportunity, and one hadn’t come my way yet. I was alert to any. Now that I’d finished this assignment I wondered what would be my next one. I was free to start getting back to my exercising to again start building my body back up.

Those of us ‘volunteers’ who had gone through that grueling week had become friends. We had a shared experience that had brought us together. I started mixing with some of the others. Since they were not part of the regular ‘numbered guys,’ I would have to go to another part of the facility to meet them. But as one of the now trusted ‘numbered guys’ I had free access. My room was no longer kept locked, and I was not fettered when outside. Only when I was to assume my role would I be.

In mixing with some of the others I started getting a better idea of the workings of Major Ashley’s organization. I started finding the operations center, realizing which parts were the key ones. He had his information computerized, which was to be expected. This told me that this would be the most vulnerable part. But I realized that getting rid of the computer data would not be enough. I would need to change the information on some key individuals so they could be freed to tell what they had gone through and what Major Ashley was using us to do.

I decided to particularly make friends with the guy who kept the records on the computer, one of the ‘volunteers.’ This would be the key guy who would have access. I started sounding him out about his comfort with what Major Ashley was doing. To my surprise he had a similar attitude to what I had, but was in fear of what would happen to him if he didn’t do as he was told. He was concerned that I was another of those ‘tests’ that we were all warned about, and it took me a lot of careful work over a period of weeks to finally get across to him that my concerns were for real. I was basically employing my skills on him that I had honed for my normal job. I, of course, was equally concerned that his attitude might be a front as well, but I was finally satisfied that it wasn’t. No one could have his obvious computer skills and also be that skilled in misleading me.

When we’d get a chance, away from possible listening devices, we started making our plans. In response to my query he checked unobtrusively and found that there were periodic reports that would be produced for others to check to make sure that there had been no changes to the status of the prisoners. He would have to make sure that these reports would be modified to always report a constant prisoner status, rather than accessing the system’s current status for them. This he could do. And the reports that checked any changes in status would have to be kept intact to be able to access the changes that the guy would be making. It all seemed pretty easy.

Finally came the day we had set for this. The guy made the changes in the system to the status of key prisoners, as well as to replace that program that reported changes. The lead guys who had been in position before Major Ashley took over were some of these. With the changes made they were released. They had the credibility to tell what had happened to them, all of which was illegal. This computer guy and I were on pins and needles to see if our little sabotage of Major Ashley would work to bring down this venture of his.

At first there was no reaction. But after a couple of days, when I went to see my friend as usual to go have lunch with him, I was told that he was no longer there and wouldn’t be returning. This was when I knew that something had happened.

The two of us had discussed what would be the reaction. I had told him that once we had changed the status of the prisoners and they would be able to say what had happened, Major Ashley would be arrested. He would find out, and get word to his subordinates to have the prisoners’ status checked. It wouldn’t be long before they would find the changes that my friend had made to the computer system. He would then be taken away for questioning under torture. That’s when they would find out about my complicity. I knew that I had only hours before I was picked up and treated similarly. It was the chance we had to take. We both faced it and did what we did knowing the consequences.

I had a leisurely lunch on my own. I figured it would be my last good meal. I knew I would never be allowed to leave the facility. When I returned to my room I found that some of Number 7’s students were waiting for me, as well as Number 7 himself. I knew what that meant.

As I was being severely restrained by the students under the supervision of Number 7, he said, “Number 6, we’re all greatly disappointed in you. We thought you were enjoying your life here. Was it the severe treatment you had been given at that class that made you turn on us?”

I had been gagged by then, and just responded by shaking my head back and forth.

“I’m glad to know that. I was concerned that I may have been somehow indirectly responsible for the problems Major Ashley now finds himself in. Our treatment of the other military staff had been proceeding so nicely. It was a shock to find that it had to come to a screeching halt.”

I was strapped to that cart again. I knew that there was no way I could escape from that. A leather hood with nose holes only had been strapped on my head so I couldn’t see where I was being taken and others couldn’t see who was being transported. My uniform had been removed and I had been placed in a leather straitjacket, all straps pulled as tight as possible under the supervision of Number 7, so no one could tell from that either. My cock had been placed in chastity so I couldn’t get any satisfaction from the restraints I was in.

When I got to where I was being taken I had my ankles tightly cuffed to a metal ring in the floor. My straitjacket was removed and I had my arms placed in leather arm binders. After the strings were pulled as tight as they could get them, pulling my elbows close together, cuffs were placed on my wrists, which were welded together. A chain was then attached to a ring attached to those cuffs, and I was pulled into the air by that. They kept pulling the hoist up until the chain connecting my ankle cuffs together prevented it from rising any farther. This caused the cuffs to cut deeply into both my ankles and my wrists. I was in a lot of pain.

Number 7 then had his students hook up the electricity to my chastity and ordered them to place the setting at random and at a very high level. When it started I involuntarily jerked, but I found that I couldn’t move much, stretched out as I was. The only effect of the jerk was to cause my ankle and wrist cuffs to cut into my ankles and wrists even more.

Number 7 said, “This will now be your new home. You will be kept here during the duration of your stay. You will be periodically used for teaching purposes. You will be kept in constant pain. You only have yourself to blame for being placed in this position. You had been told that this would be a consequence of your disloyal actions.”

As Number 7 had said, I was in a lot of pain. I soon found that my life was one of constant, mind-numbing pain. I expected to be freed from this at some time, and that hope was what kept me going. While I was there I started recognizing other sounds. Periodically there would be some screams coming from another guy next to me. I recognized the voice of my friend in the computer section. They weren’t full-throated screams, but were muffled by a gag, like mine. I felt sorry for him, but we had discussed this beforehand, knew what would be done, and accepted this as a consequence, going ahead with our plans anyway. All we could do was to wait for loyal military staff to raid this place and free us.

I was fed periodically. There was a hole in the mouth part of my gag and hood which was normally covered. When the cover was removed a straw fit through it. I was kept on a liquid diet. I was also allowed to piss periodically. As a result I was kept alive in a world of pain. They wanted to punish me severely for what I’d done. They wanted to make my life a living hell, and they succeeded in doing that.

When I was finally released I didn’t know how long I had been kept like that. It seemed like it was at least a month, but I later found out it was a week. The military had finally realized the full extent of what Major Ashley had planned and what he was doing to anyone who stood in his way. My computer friend and I hugged when we were released, after we’d had a chance to recover and be able to stand. We knew that our ordeal was over, and that we had foiled Major Ashley’s power plans. Those who rescued us didn’t know that we were the ones who had brought Ashley down. Nor did they know what would have happened if we hadn’t done what we did.

We were all debriefed by military staff members. That’s when they found out what we had done. My friend was made to show them the database of information. It was still intact. The changes he had made had been negated, put back to their original form, but he explained to them how he had done what he did. He also introduced them to me as his instigator, the one who had gotten him to begin his sabotage, and instructed him on what he should do. Both of us were suddenly made the heroes of the whole business.

We were naked when we were released. The clothes I wore when coming to that facility had long since been discarded. When they asked me I told them I wanted that Number 6 uniform back, and surprisingly three such uniforms were found, all clean. I had grown fond of that uniform. The military staff asked me what my plans were, and I told them that I hadn’t been able to find employment after I’d gotten out of the military. They checked on my skills, but found that there was no opening in the internal security section for someone whose skill was convincing men to talk. I was given a position as a guard of the computer facility, one in which I could continue to wear my uniform. My friend from the computer facility, my co-conspirator if you will, had a job inside the building I was guarding, so we were able to meet.

I became known at that facility as Number 6, since those numbers were still on the uniforms. I wondered what had happened to Number 7. I figured he was only doing what he was ordered to do by Major Ashley, as I had done. Besides, my cock was still in chastity and he had the key to it. I put in a good word for him with my interrogators despite the way he had treated me at the end. But I couldn’t see how there could be a job available for someone with his skills. So it wasn’t a surprise to find that he was also given a job as a guard at the computer facility the next day. That seemed to be their catch-all for men they couldn’t place.

I was a little apprehensive about what his reaction would be on seeing me, but he was all smiles with his greetings. When I got a chance I asked him for the key to my chastity. He pulled out the key and unlocked it, removing the chastity. I was very pleased to get that thing off. Then Number 7 got that wicked smile of his and said, “Remember when I was first torturing you and your cock responded? I’ve often wondered since then if you realized what that meant, and had come to grips with it. You obviously enjoy being restrained and played with. But then in that last week you got a heaping dose of being tortured. Sometimes that turns a person off who had once been turned on by it. Now that your cock is freed from its prison, I wonder how you will react.”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Want to try to test out your reaction?”

I’d wondered how I would react if he asked me this. I hadn’t come up with a decision. I started thinking of that time when I was in the chair. And I started thinking of all the tortures he had done to me. I looked down at my cock and noticed that it was tenting my pants. When he saw me looking there he also looked and saw my reaction. He got a smile and said, “We both get off shift at 6:00 tonight. Meet me at my place. We’ll have some dinner first and then get started.”

After he left I was thinking about this conversation. Not a word was said about what I wanted. We both took my cock’s reaction as my response. I realized that my cock was now going to be making some decisions for me. Maybe that was a good thing. I didn’t know. This whole lifestyle was something I’d never experienced before I joined Major Ashley’s unit. I just hoped Number 7’s torture on me wouldn’t be that intense.

For all the bad uses that Major Ashley had used that group for, I missed it. I had been happy there until I found out Ashley’s plans. I felt that I had been able to make good use of my talents, though for a bad purpose. I knew that they needed an internal security group here where I would be able to make good use of my talents for a good purpose, and I had put my name in to be transferred to it when a suitable opening arose. In the meantime, with Number 7’s treatment, I would soon be getting some of that experience back. I still had the uniform, so I also had that reminder.

That evening over dinner at his place, he was asking me how I was able to get Major Ashley in trouble. I told him the whole story. I figured that there was no reason not to. He was surprised that only the two of us were necessary to bring about that change. After dinner he took me into another room after cuffing my hands behind my back and strapping a penis gag on. When I got to that room there was that chair with a lot of attached straps. He brought a plastic bag over to show me with an accompanying cord. When I saw this, my cock immediately started to get hard.

After he put the plastic bag around my head, which was tied off by a cord, cutting off my air, he turned to the side and said, “You can come out now.”

Of all the people in the world I didn’t expect to see, there was Major Ashley. I was shocked! Number 7 started speaking when he saw my reaction. “Major Ashley and I have worked together for many years. I’m still loyal to him. Major Ashley was arrested based on what you had done, and he’s now out on bail awaiting his trial.”

I was getting very nervous on hearing this. I had that plastic bag over my head, and my air was steadily running out.

Turning to Major Ashley, Number 7 said, “You were able to hear what Number 6 said about who was involved in that internal revolt that caused you to be arrested. How would you like me to deal with him now?”

I realized that my life now was being left to this madman Ashley to decide, a man who I had initially done a lot to help, but then betrayed. I hadn’t told anyone that I was coming to Number 7’s house, but he wouldn’t know this. I wouldn’t be surprised if Major Ashley was followed here, so that if anything happened to me he could be brought to trial for this as well. I figured he must be aware of this possibility.

I was just about out of air due to that plastic bag. I looked over at Major Ashley as I was starting to thrash around to try to get that plastic bag off so I could get some air, all to no avail. He was looking at me, but I couldn’t read his face. I wondered what his decision would be.

***

Author’s note: OK, readers. You get to make the call. What do you think Major Ashley will do?

Mister X is a very eager subject. You can do just about anything you want to him as long as it is strict bondage. Outdoors in San Francisco is the perfect place to mummify Mister X. He resembled a pig on a spit when they are finished with him.

To see more like this, visit Serious Male Bondage

Another great friend and contributor to the Metalbond site is Mister-X / Spartan!

He is one sick, twisted fuck — and he is often a featured bondage model over at Serious Male Bondage. He’s also author of many fantastic stories, which can be found right here on this site, in the Metalbond Prison Library.

To see many featured content from Mister-X / Spartan, click here.

To read his stories in the Metalbond Prison Library, click here.

Thanks for keeping it hot, Mister-X / Spartan!

By Mister-X/Spartan

I woke up in a small cage. I started looking around, and found that there was nothing else in the room. There was just me locked into this small cage. It was a small room, but bigger than the cage. I had no idea how I came to be here. I was naked, but wasn’t cold.

I started thinking back to what my last memory was. I was riding my bicycle to the store. I was going to get some groceries for this evening’s dinner. I don’t remember reaching the store. There was something different along the way. What was it? I can’t remember.

I try to think back to each street on the way from my home to the store. My head hurts when I try to think, but I force myself. I remember passing the first block. Then the second. There was nothing unusual in the third block. Did I get to Standard Street? No. So there had to be something in that fourth block. What was it?

Ah! I remember now. There was a small moving van parked half-way along the street. There were two guys dressed in overalls with the name of the moving company on them. One of them was just coming out of the back of the van. I stopped to let him pass in front of me. Only he didn’t pass. Instead he came up to me. Then I felt something from behind me. That’s the last thing I remember. Apparently those two were the reason I’m now in this cage.

Why on earth would they have done that to me? It doesn’t make sense. I’m nothing special. I work at a clothing store, from 9 to 5 every day. It was after I’d gotten home from work at the start of this holiday weekend that this happened. The only outside interest I have is with the local bondage club, which meets the second Friday of every month. Could this have something to do with them? No one there paid particular interest in me. No one had ever said anything to me about my being kidnapped and put into a cage. I don’t understand. Besides, I’m not bound at all, just locked into a small cage in an otherwise empty room. It must be for some other reason.

I’ll take stock of my situation in life. I’m single, mid-40s, own my own home, or rather the mortgage company owns it and I pay them every month. I have checking and savings accounts at the bank, with a little saved up, but nothing much. I have a couple of credit cards that I’ve run up small sums of money on, planning to pay them off each month. I’m paid up on all my bills. I don’t own any pets. I haven’t offended anybody which would cause them to want to do this to me. My parents are dead, and I’m the only child. All in all, I seem to live a pretty boring life. This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. But it’s pretty unsettling.

Am I going to be fed? How do I go about going to the bathroom? And am I supposed to sleep in this small cage? No one has entered or communicated with me since I awakened. I wonder if there’s anybody else here.

Just then I notice some movement. I look at the door and notice that there are a couple of holes at about eye level. The movement had been some eyes looking. After I looked to see where the movement had been, there were no eyes there anymore. Then my eye catches some movement. I notice a flap at the bottom of the door, one like is used for a pet, being lifted. It’s a pretty small flap. Soon there was a tray of food being pushed toward my cage by what looked like a kind of shuffleboard stick. It was pushed up to my cage before the stick was removed back through the flap and the flap was lowered.

I now had my first question answered. This was how I was going to be fed. The food looked good, and seemed to be freshly made. In fact, it seemed to be one of my favorite meals. There were plastic utensils provided as well, plus a can of soda and a napkin. So I soon would have my hunger satiated. I started eating.

When I finished the meal, I started getting drowsy. I sat down in the cage, it not being big enough for me to lie down in. My head started dropping down onto my chest. I think I caught a glimpse of those eyes at the holes again, but I was starting to drop off when I saw that.

I woke up in a different place. I tried moving, but found that I was locked in place. I tried moving my arms, and found that they were tightly restrained behind me. They were crossed, and I didn’t at first understand what they could be in. Then I recognized it. I was in a leather straitjacket. It was buckled tightly around my body, my arms in the long sleeves of the jacket, but being brought around behind my back instead of the usual way of in front of me.

I tried moving my head to look down, and found that I couldn’t. Nor could I see. My head was encased in something, and I couldn’t move it. I tried jerking it, and found that the head covering was attached somehow to the top of whatever I was in. I tried figuring out from the feeling what the head covering must be, and realized that it was leather. I was able to breathe through my nose, but there was something which prevented me from breathing through my mouth. Not only that, but there seemed to be straps attaching it to other parts of my head. I realized that I had a leather muzzle on. I tried opening my mouth, but those straps that went under the front of my chin were on tight, preventing my mouth from opening. There was nothing inside my mouth gagging me. But a muzzle doesn’t restrict the sight. Apparently over the muzzle I had a leather hood on which had nose holes only.

I decided to move my legs, and found that I couldn’t. They were tightly encased in some clothes as well. I tried feeling them, and realized that I must have some skin-tight leather pants on as well. Yet, they must be more than just leather pants. I tried remembering the various clothes, and realized that they had to be leather leg-binders. At least with those, I should be able to hop a little to move. I tried doing that, and found that I couldn’t even jump up. That’s when I realized that my ankles were attached to the bottom of the cage.

I was locked in place. I must have been quite a sight. I was tightly encased in leather from head to toe, nose holes only accessing the outside. I could feel the leather against my skin, so I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Plus I was tightly attached to wherever or whatever I was in, unable to move. I knew that I had eaten, which was the last memory I had before I woke up here. The food I ate must have been drugged to put me out. And I noticed that, whereas before I needed to pee, I didn’t need to now. So at least my basic needs were being cared for. But I still had no idea why this was being done to me, or who was doing it. I had no plans for the holiday weekend, other than to stay at home to do some housework and yard work, so there was nothing pressing for a couple of days. I sure would like to know what’s going on. All I can do is wait and see.

I’m an easy-going guy. I don’t get upset at anything, just taking what life gives me and dealing with it as best I can. So I’m not angry at the way I’m being treated. But I’m very curious as to why I’m being treated this way. There must be a reason. Someone like me doesn’t wind up in circumstances like this for no reason. But I sure can’t figure out what that reason is.

I sense that there is another person near me. I don’t hear any sound. Maybe it’s my imagination. Yet I can’t get rid of this feeling that there’s someone there. Suddenly I feel my suit being opened over my tits. There must be a zipper being opened. Yet, there’s no sound of it being opened. I must have ear plugs in my ears blocking out all sound.

I suddenly feel something being clamped on my left tit. Whatever it is causes instant pain. It’s obviously a severe clamp of some kind. I feel the covering over my tit being closed up some. Then the same feeling happens to my right tit. It’s strange to be having this happening, yet to hear no sound. And I can’t move at all. I’m just standing there looking straight ahead, or at least I would be if I could see.

Next I feel the zipper being opened over my dick. I feel a hand pulling it out. I also realize that it’s hard. I feel something stroking it. That feels so-o-o-o good! Lightly it is being stroked. I’m ready to erupt. But just as I’m about to, the stroking stops. I realize I was being edged. I let out a sigh into my muzzle.

But suddenly I feel something being clamped onto my erect dick. That hurts. Then another is added. And soon there were clamps attached to my balls. I’m in more pain from my tits, since the clamps are starting to take strong affect, pain added to what is coming from my dick and balls. I notice that I’m involuntarily letting out yells into my muzzle. But no sound enters my ears from anything. I feel the opening over my dick being closed some.

I’m left like that for a couple of minutes. My mind slowly comes to grip with the pain that has been added. But then I feel a sensation coming from my dick and balls. It’s pleasant. My dick, which had softened some from the pain of the clamps, is trying to get hard again. My breathing is getting a little fast.

But the pleasant feeling doesn’t last long. Soon the electric waves that had been sent to my dick and balls were increased until it was painful. My mind now had more pain to deal with. At least the pain was steady, so I had no sudden shocks to deal with. But it was still painful, and I had to concentrate not to start yelling uncontrollably into my muzzle.

The painful level was kept for a few minutes until I was able to adjust to always having the pain from that area. That’s when the intensity was upped more. I was starting to yell into my muzzle from that. This was causing the most sensitive parts of my body to be in severe pain. I could try my best to deal with that pain, but I had to involuntarily yell. But again, after a few minutes, I was able to adjust and stopped yelling. That’s when the intensity was increased again.

When I had a chance to think, I wondered whether I was being tested to see how much pain I could take without constantly yelling. It certainly wasn’t pleasant to deal with. I tried to think back to when I had ever been subjected to such pain, and remembered something from my teenage years. There was a sadistic classmate who loved to torture me, upping the intensity on the tortures to see how much I could take. For some reason he was attracted to me. The attraction only went one way. He was bigger than me and would wait for me after school. Since I had a long walk home, I couldn’t avoid him. That’s when I learned to take whatever came along and just endure it. At first I would try to fight it, but found that I just hurt myself when I did that. I was happy to get away from that guy when I graduated from high school and left my parents’ home.

After the intensity had been turned up to a level that my mind could barely tolerate, it was not increased any more. I was left like that for about an hour before I could feel the hood being removed, the ear plugs taken out, and the muzzle being unstrapped. I still couldn’t see, so I figured that I must also have a blindfold on. Since my gag was out, I said, “Who are you and why are you doing this to me?”

The answer came back. “Hi, Doug. Remember me?”

I got a sudden chill up my back as I recognized that voice of my high school tormenter. I sullenly replied, “Hi, Vern.”

Vern started chuckling. “You don’t sound happy to know that I’m back in your life again. You don’t realize that I have been stalking you for the past several months. I’ve been to where you work. I’ve been to the bondage club that you go to. But you never recognized me. My appearance has changed. I doubt that you would recognize me if I took that blindfold off. But on the inside I’m the same guy you went to school with. And now that I’ve become successful in my business career, I can afford to start having fun with you again.”

“Vern, I’ve got my own home and job. I can’t be available for you now.”

“Ah, but you can. I know where you live, and have taken the liberty of making a copy of your house key from the one that you had with you. I’ve checked and found that it works perfectly. So I’ll be there for you when you come home at night until you leave for work in the morning. On weekends we can come to my place, which is so much better equipped.”

“Vern, why are you doing this to me? It’s been years.”

“I’ve never gotten over my attraction to you. I’ve tried having the same kind of fun with others, but they are never the same. There’s only one guy for me, and you’re him.”

“But Vern, I’m not at all attracted to you.”

“So?”

“For a relationship to work it has to work both ways.”

“What is the one outside club you belong to?”

“The local bondage club.”

“And why do you belong to that?”

“To be put into bondage. I see where this is going. Yes, I enjoy that. But you are so much more intense than I like. You like to torture me. I don’t want to be tortured. I just want to be put into bondage.”

“Do you get your rocks off from that?”

“Yes.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes, I don’t have someone else to do that.”

“You will now. Look at the positive side. I can satisfy those needs you have.”

“But you want to torture me, too. I don’t want that.”

“What were those words of yours? ‘For a relationship to work it has to work both ways?’ I have my needs too.”

That stopped me. I had always wanted a bondage partner to restrain me and keep me that way when I wasn’t working. Now I have the opportunity to have someone do that. But there would be an additional price I would have to pay for that. I wondered.

My thoughts were interrupted by his speaking again. “Why don’t we try it this weekend and see how it works?”

“After all the bad memories of when you would do that to me in high school, I don’t want to go through that again.”

“I guess I didn’t word that correctly. We will be trying it this weekend. Try to keep an open mind, and let’s see how it works.”

I just let out a sigh. When he didn’t get an answer, he continued, “Will you promise me to try to keep an open mind and see how it works?”

I finally agreed. All this time the electricity had been kept on at that painfully high level. It was turned off, and the clamps were removed. As the pain from the tit clamps being removed was subsiding I felt my cock being stroked again. I had to admit that he had soft hands, and the feel of him stroking my dick lightly soon got me excited. He had left the zipper covering over my tits open as well, and would periodically lightly rub them. That had always gotten me excited. It didn’t take long for the inevitable to happen. I erupted a mighty amount. I let out an involuntary roar with that.

When it was over, I was basking in the glow of that. I couldn’t believe how good that felt. Then I felt my dick and balls being put into a device. I said, “Hey! Am I going to now be kept locked up all the time?”

“Just until you’re ready to erupt again.”

“Who decides that? Me or you?”

“I do, of course.”

I started to say that I should be the one to decide, when my comments were cut off by the gag part of the muzzle being put back onto my head. Soon the ear plugs and hood were back on as well, and I was left alone to my thoughts. I didn’t like the idea of Vern imposing himself on me, but he was correct in his assessment that I needed a bondage partner. I figured he must have gotten some friends from the bondage club to help him kidnap me. And I could see his point that he had his needs as well, that a relationship can’t be only one way. But I wondered what I would be getting myself into. And I also wondered whether I could deny him. I had a lot of thinking to do.

I had a lot of fun that weekend. Vern didn’t torture me with the clamps and electro anymore. He jacked me off a couple of times a day. He put me in various types of bondage, at first stretched out in an ‘x’ with my wrists in metal shackles up above my head and ankles in metal shackles on the floor, stretched so taut that I couldn’t move a muscle. I slept at night in a leather sleep sack, strings and belts pulled tight over my body with my arms in the internal sleeves, head in the leather muzzle and hood with nose holes only.

The blindfold was always kept on. He said that I was not to look at him. That seemed strange to me, but I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t care.

When the holiday weekend was over and it was time for me to go back to my home, he asked, “Have you made a decision?”

“I’m willing to agree, but I want a written contract stating what will occur.”

“That’s acceptable, but again, I’ll remind you of your statement that ‘for a relationship to work it has to work both ways.’ Why don’t you write a clause of the agreement, something you require, and then I’ll write one, something that I require.”

I thought about this, and agreed. We kept at it, and finally had an agreement that we were both comfortable with. My first requirement was no torture, and Vern surprisingly agreed to it. His first requirement was that I didn’t look at him, which I found to be a strange requirement, but I agreed to it. My next one was that I would need a couple of nights a week for me to do other things, housework, yard work, and shopping. He was reluctant to agree to that, but realized he had no choice. His next requirement was that the rest of the week, and the weekend, I would be his to put into bondage. And so it went.

When we finished, he left me in that room I was in initially, had me back my handcuffed hands next to the door for him to unlock them, and left the keys to the other restraints in the room for me to get out of, as well as my clothes. He had told me how to get out of his house and how to get back to mine on public transportation. There was no sign of him when I left. At least I now knew where he lived.

When I got home from work that next night, I was greeted in my home with restraints, including the ever-present blindfold, which I was required to put on, and a list of instructions of what to do. After I had complied, we were back at it again. In the morning, after the restraints on the sleep sack had been removed, he left me the key to unlock the hood and get the muzzle and blindfold off. He was not there when I was finished. He had told me that he was in one of my spare bedrooms, one which had a lock on it which I did not have the key for. I knew better than to try to get into it. I headed off to work.

Vern kept up his part of the agreement. I kept up mine. I was enjoying it. He surprised me. He was not the same kind of guy who had harassed me in high school. I wondered what had happened to him to make him change. I actually liked him now.

After a few months of this, there was an incident. Vern had been locking me tightly in his stand-up cage at his home on the weekend when I heard a loud crash. I did not have the ear plugs in, and was able to hear it. Obviously Vern had fallen. At first I didn’t hear any sound afterwards. I was getting worried that he had injured himself and that we would both be unable to get help. Finally I started hearing him stirring. After a few minutes he was back to continuing to restrain me.

When I got the chance I asked, “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

He simply responded, “That should not have happened.”

But that was the first in an increasingly more frequent series of such ‘incidents.’ Finally I said, “Vern, you’re starting to have more and more of these, and they are occurring more frequently. At this rate one of these times you’re not going to be able to move, and I won’t either. What will happen to us then?”

He didn’t respond for a while. Finally his response was to remove my blindfold. After my eyes had gotten adjusted to the light, I took a look at Vern. I was shocked. He was on crutches. I looked at his legs, and saw that they had withered.

After I’d finished looking at him, showing my reaction in my facial expressions, something I’d never been able to hide, he said, “I’ve got muscular dystrophy. It’s degenerative. Soon I’ll be confined to a wheelchair. The usual progression will cause me to eventually lose most of my ability to do my normal functions. I’ve always wanted to top you again, since that was the fondest memory I had of my youthful, energetic life, and I wanted to do it while I still had the ability to do so. But it’s gotten to the point where it will be difficult for me to do that anymore. I’ve always been someone who takes whatever he wants, but I’m heading into a period of my life when I can’t do that.”

He was so sad when he was saying this. I just sat there numb. Finally I got up and hugged him. I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. There will still be some things you will be able to do. I’ve sure appreciated all you’ve done for me, and it’s time for me to repay you. I have to admit that I was reticent at first to agree to having you back in my life, since I kept bad memories of the Vern I knew in high school. But I really like the Vern that has been in my life these last few months.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What’s sympathy got to do with it? These past few months have been the happiest of my life. I want to continue living these happy times as long as I can. I don’t want them taken away from me just as you don’t want them taken away from you.”

So now we still have our relationship. Vern is not able to do as much topping of me as he had been able to do, but he is still able to do a lot. Weights are a problem for him, as well as reaching up high. We now do more things at a lower level. I take care of most of the lifting.

Vern is starting to need assistance for some of his basic functions. I’ve quit my job to spend the time with Vern. To me it is worth it. He has added my name to his checking account so that I can afford to spend the time with him. It’s strange how life works. I finally have found that special someone in my life, and it’s someone who will be going out of my life, someone who I had grown up despising. Now I just want to spend as much time with him as I can.

Metal would like to thank Mister-X/Spartan for this story!

By Mister-X/Spartan

Getting There.

Master Leach and I arrived at the last light before the road opened up. We were each on our motorcycles. We waited at the red. He gunned his engine, and I gunned mine. We were ready. When the light changed we both floored it.

I got out to a slight lead. As the miles went by I lengthened it. Finally I was clearly in front. That was when I slowed down enough for him to catch up. After all, he knew where we were going, and I didn’t.

I wondered whether I was doing the right thing. I’d seen Master Leach off and on at some of the get-togethers. He had a reputation for being extreme with his bondage. I liked that. I enjoy being physically challenged with bondage. He was a handsome enough guy and kept fit. But there was always this small indication in his eyes and mouth that he could be a hard man. I had a week off from work, and was heading for his cabin in the mountains to spend the week plus an extra weekend with him. I was looking forward to it, but also looked forward with some trepidation. After all, this was a risk I was taking. But I figured life was to be lived, and I’d take advantage of the opportunity to see if I liked being with him.

The air was turning cold as we started gaining altitude. I was wearing my thick leather custom-made suit, fit to be skin-tight everywhere except where the pants legs covered my boots. It kept me warm, but the air was getting under my chin. I had the suit made with a higher than normal collar, but it wasn’t high enough. I also don’t wear anything under my leathers, preferring the feel of leather against my skin. I shivered a bit. He probably didn’t have the cabin warmed up while he was away, so it was going to be a cold welcome. I looked over at him, but you couldn’t see anything through his helmet, just as he couldn’t see anything through mine.

We slowed down for the curvy road through the trees. Soon there was snow piled alongside the road. It got colder, and the road kept gaining in elevation. I was glad that I was completely covered in clothes. Finally we slowed down and turned off onto a side road. This one was not paved, so we had to go slow. We initially passed a couple of other cabins, both vacant, and kept going. The road started climbing again. After a distance with no other buildings, we pulled up to a cabin. It was a split level, set into the forest on a hillside, and we went to the top part. I noticed that this unimproved road did not continue beyond his cabin. We both got off our bikes. He had told me to bring nothing other than myself, so I had no belongings to bring inside. He also didn’t have any to bring in, since they’d already be inside his cabin.

We took off our helmets, and I immediately noticed the bitter cold. At the front door, he took my helmet and laid both down on the doorstep. He told me “I never bring anyone in who doesn’t have their hands cuffed, so hold yours out in front of you.” I obeyed, and soon had my wrists cuffed together in front of me, not too tight. These cuffs had a short chain connecting them. He handed me my helmet and unlocked the door.

As I had expected, the cabin was very cold. He turned on a light, and I looked around. The living room looked just like a dungeon. I could see why he didn’t allow anyone inside who wasn’t restrained. There were no windows in this room for anyone to look inside. He led me over to a hanging chain, lowered it by activating a hoist, and locked the connecting chain of my cuffs to it. He re-activated the hoist and I felt my arms being raised. When I was stretched taut with my hands high above my head, he stopped the hoist. He went over to his gear board.

He came back with a spreader bar which had large cuffs at each end. He cuffed one of my boots at the ankle and said “spread ‘em”. I started moving my booted feet apart, and soon was standing on the front parts of my feet. He kept pushing them further apart, until he was finally satisfied. He locked the other end of the spreader bar around my other booted ankle. He stepped back and took a look. He said, more to himself than to me, “that’s just right”. He made a mark for the chain. Then he went over to the gear board again.

This time he came back with a leather penis gag and a leather hood. The hood only had two little pinholes at the nostrils. “Open wide” came the next command. Soon I was gagged, sucking on the thick leather penis part, with my head tightly enclosed in the hood. I could hear his boots as he stepped back and stopped for a minute. He finally said “I love the way you fill out those leathers.” I heard him leave again and return. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a camera click.

I wondered how long I was going to be left like this. As if reading my thoughts, he said “this is your ‘bed’. You’ll be kept here spread standing every night. The only difference is that tonight you’ll be dressed. Enjoy it while you can.” Then I heard him walk away. I heard another door open and close, probably to his bedroom. After a while I heard no more sounds from him. I figured he’d retired in bed for the night.

This would be the first time I had ever spent the night standing stretched out. I didn’t get much sleep. I also started getting cold. I wondered whether the cabin would be kept like this for the rest of my stay here. At least I was dressed warmly, though not warm enough. A few of my muscles started complaining from the position I was in, but not too much. I had no trouble breathing through the pinholes. I’d done that before. I’d also spent a night before with a big leather penis gag in my mouth, so this wasn’t new to me. I wondered what lay ahead for me this week. He knew that I liked my bondage to be on the extreme side, and he’d said he’d try to accommodate me, but so far I haven’t been challenged.

Day 1

I finally heard some sounds of rustling. I figured it was morning. Then I heard a door open, followed by boot steps coming up to me. The zipper for my upper leathers was pulled down part way and the neck strap on the hood was undone. My gag was unstrapped, though kept in place, with the part of my suit around my neck opened. I felt him feeling my body around my chest. He pinched and twisted my nipples. Then I felt a paper tape being pulled around the upper part of my neck and yanked tight by pulling both ends. He left and his footsteps went over to the gear board.

Soon he was back and I felt a heavy metal collar being placed around my neck. He had to again pull the neck part of my suit away before he could finally get it in place. He couldn’t get it closed, and finally said “lift your head”. When I did I heard and felt the collar close and heard the sound of a lock clicking closed. When I lowered my head I found my chin resting on the collar, which also pressed down onto my collar bone. And I noticed how heavy it was, as well as how tight it was around my neck, pressing into my Adam’s apple. I felt my cock stirring. He managed to buckle the hood’s neck strap over the collar after he had strapped the gag back over the collar.

He left and returned from the gear board. I felt and heard a chain being attached to the front of the collar. When he dropped the chain it was so heavy that my head started dropping down. When I would flex my neck muscles to hold my head up my neck would push into the collar. I was beginning to get physically challenged.

He lowered the hoist and removed the cuffs. “Remove the upper part of your suit.” I obeyed as he was walking away to the gear board again. Soon he was back, and I felt some metal clamps being put on my nipples. They apparently had a connecting chain, but it was a short one, since my nipples were pulled out and toward each other with them on. I started noticing pain from that part of my anatomy. But this was also something I’d had done many times before.

Next was to cuff my wrists again and raise the hoist again. He undid the spreader bar and unclipped the ankle cuffs. He removed my boots after instructing me to lift one leg, then the other. Then he lowered and removed my leather pants. After this he reattached the spreader bar, tightening the cuffs around my ankles (I don’t wear socks when I put on my boots). Soon my feet were spread out and I was standing on my toes. I was still gagged and hooded.

Next I heard him go over to the gear board again. He returned and I first heard the whoosh shortly before I felt the impact on my ass. I moved a little and had to readjust my toes. He finally spoke, saying “this will be how you are warmed up every morning”. He continued after saying that. Soon my ass, back, and stomach must have been a bright red. The cabin was still cold, but I had gotten warm.

After this he removed the spreader bar and lowered the hoist. He removed the handcuffs. I was now free of restraints except for the heavy collar with the attached chain, the gag and hood. He told me “exercise time”.

I’ve got to hand it to him. He called out the exercises, and he did the same ones that he was having me do, despite his being about 20 years older than me. This included push-ups, jumping jacks, sit-ups, and weight lifting while lying on the floor. After these he pulled me over to a running machine, one of a pair apparently, and had us run a few miles as well. All of this was done while I was gagged and hooded. I’d never done exercises before while restrained like that. Also, it was strange doing all those while my nipples were clamped. That was my handicap to make up the 20 year difference in our ages.

After the exercises were done, he pulled me over to the gear board, got some rigid cuffs, and cuffed my hands behind my back in those. My arms were locked in place with those on. He took me back to the hoist again, attached the end of the collar’s chain, turned my collar around, and activated the hoist to raise the chain back up. When it was up to where I would have to be off my feet, he stopped it. Then he put the spreader bar on my feet again, spreading them out, which put me back onto my toes. Finished, he left.

Soon I could smell food cooking. I hoped that I would be able to eat. When I heard him return, I again heard the ‘clicks’ of a camera. Then he returned to the kitchen. Next I heard him come in to release me from the spreader bar and the hoist. He brought my collar back around to the front and pulled me by the chain into another room. My hands were still cuffed behind my back. When I was stopped, my hood was unstrapped and pulled up to where my mouth was uncovered, but my eyes were still covered. He said “if you talk, you get no food. Understand?”

After I nodded my head as best I could with that collar restricting my head movements, he unstrapped and removed my gag. He helped me to lie down on the floor, and said “there are two bowls in front of you, one with food and one with liquid. I’ll show you were they are. After he positioned me for my mouth to find the bowls, he said “you have ten minutes to eat and drink”. I heard him sit down and start eating. I started eating as best I could.

The food was tasty, freshly cooked. But the drink evidently was his piss. I’d drunk piss before, but I don’t like it. But I had no choice if I wanted any liquid. I got most of the food consumed in the ten minutes. I’m sure I made a mess of things. He wiped off my face and leather, and soon I was again gagged and hooded. He took me back to the hoist, and I was back to how I’d been before being taken in for breakfast. I heard him tidying up the dishes and floor in the kitchen.

I next wondered if I was going to be washed up. Again he anticipated me. He came back after tidying up, and after releasing me as he’d done when I’d been taken in for breakfast, I was taken into what apparently was the shower stall. My feet were locked to the sides of the shower. A plastic bag was put over my head with a couple of pinholes in the bag which lined up with the ones in my hood, a couple of short straws put through the holes for me to breathe through. The door was closed and the water was turned on. It came from various nozzles placed throughout the shower stall.

I would have enjoyed that shower if the water weren’t icy cold. All the heating up I’d done earlier was undone by that icy shower. I was shivering when it ended. At least I was clean. I was unlocked and left under a heat lamp to get dry. The heat lamp warmed me up again. Apparently I wasn’t to get my teeth cleaned or my chin stubble removed because I was brought back out to the living room again.

I was taken over to what appeared to be a fuck bench. I was placed down on it with the lock of my neck collar put through an opening in a raised part and locked to the other side. I tried, but couldn’t move my head. My knees were strapped to the bench. My ankles were brought back and cuffed to the bench. My wrists were finally un-cuffed and brought forward to be cuffed to the bench. My lower legs and arms were resting on the lower part of the bench. But the surprises were that there were holes for my nipples to fit through after the clamps were removed and reattached on the other side of the little holes, and for my cock and balls to be put through. He had to adjust their position to fit me, but soon they were fit properly. After my cock and balls were inserted and in place, he started working a butt plug into my ass.

I’d had a butt plug before, but never one this big. It took some time to get it worked in. I was unable to move from the locked position I was in, so all I could do was try to relax and take it in. Finally my sphincter accepted it and it was inside. Almost immediately my cock started getting erect, as the butt plug was touching my prostate. That’s when I found that he’d put my cock into a spiked sheath on the other side. As my cock got harder, the spikes started pressing in, and I started making sounds into my gag. I could hear him chuckling from the result of this.

After I settled down, accepting the pain as best I could, he started twisting a lever. I felt my wrists start to move forward and my ankles to move back. Apparently this bench was a modified rack as well. The lever also had the effect of making the holes smaller that my nipples, cock and balls went through, and the cuffs got tighter. The spikes dug in further. I was making more sounds into my gag.

After I’d been stretched out about as far as I could go, I started feeling some electricity in my ankles, wrists, neck and cock. It was pleasant at first, but that didn’t last long. Soon it was up to a painful level. I was trying to get off that damn bench, but I was locked onto it too well. I noticed that as long as I was yelling into my gag, my situation didn’t get any worse. It only got worse when I would start to calm down. So I kept yelling. The next sounds I heard were the familiar ‘clicks’ of his camera.

Finally I felt Master Leach get on me. He pulled out the butt plug, and I felt his erect cock start to replace the plug. His was about the same size. He grabbed my clamped nipples and started twisting them. My yelling, which had become more pretend than real, was back to being real again. He was developing a rhythm on his thrusts, and changed from twisting my nipples to pinching the holes closed that were over my nostrils.

I had always been turned on by breath control, and my cock started getting hard with that. My yells from the spikes in the sheath started becoming louder. As I was running out of air I started trying to move my head around to get him to let go, but I couldn’t move my head much in that collar and he held on tightly. We both erupted at about the same time. When he started erupting he let go of my nostrils, and I could breathe again. He also let out a loud yell when he erupted, as did I, but for a different reason.

After he finished he lay down on me. He started speaking to me. “You are one hot guy. I’m enjoying having you here. I hope you’re enjoying it, too.” I hadn’t thought about whether I was enjoying this stay. I had been focused primarily on what was happening to me, as well as dealing with the positions I’d been placed in. On thinking about it, I guess I was enjoying it. The treatment I was getting was what I came up here hoping to get.

When he got up he went into another part of the cabin. He returned with a flask which he placed under my cock and told me to pee. I complied as best I could. He then got the butt plug and worked it back into my ass. All during his fucking of me the electric current had continued, and with the butt plug being back in, it was back there as well. I noticed that my cock was still harder than it had been, even after erupting. The spikes seemed to continue affecting it.

Master Leach left the room again, and I figured he was fixing lunch. My sense of smell soon confirmed that conclusion. When he returned he decided to start warming me up again. My exposed ass was the focus of all the beatings. The hits on it while the butt plug was inside added to the pain. I was back to yelling again. After he left to check on his cooking, I wondered if I would have the pleasure of consuming lunch. But I later heard the sounds of him washing up after eating.

Finally the electricity was turned off and I started being removed from the bench. First my wrists were released and brought behind my back to be cuffed in those rigid cuffs again. He also got a belt and pulled it around my arms above my elbows, pulling it as tight as he could get it before buckling it. My neck, knees and ankles were then released from the bench. Care had to be taken to remove my nipples, cock and balls from their holes. Apparently a lever could be moved which enlarged the holes to get them out easier. My cock was still kept in the spiked sheath. Finally the belt around my arms was tightened further and buckled.

I was walked to another part of the room. There my ankles were cuffed together. I was resting on my lower legs and knees, with my upper legs and chest sticking up. A rope was attached to the back of my collar and pulled down and around my cuffed ankles to be brought back up. He pulled the rope to get my ankles and collar closer together. He put some force into it while holding me upright. It wasn’t long before I was bent back. When I was bent back far enough to satisfy him, now resting on my back side, he unbuckled the neck strap of the hood and brought it up to uncover my mouth. After the usual admonition to not speak, he removed the penis gag. I thought I was going to be given something to eat, but instead a ring gag was strapped on.

Soon I started feeling his cock entering my mouth. He reached behind my head and brought it up onto his cock. Further and further his cock went into my mouth, back to my throat, touching my epiglottis, and further inside. The penis gag wasn’t this long. I knew what to do. It certainly wasn’t the first time a man’s cock was inside my mouth. I licked and sucked. I started hearing his heavy breathing. I also felt his cock start to come alive. On and on I worked, and his cock started moving up and down with a rhythm. Finally it shot its load down my throat. Stream after stream of cum went shooting down.

As his cock had started getting ready to erupt I heard him say “yes, oh, yes, oh, yes”, until he finally yelled his approval when he erupted. Afterward he kept his cock in my mouth and ordered me to clean it off. I did what I could as he would bring it out a little at a time. Finally it was out and cleaned. He immediately strapped the penis gag back on, going through the ring gag. After this he lowered the hood down and buckled the neck strap again. I now had two gags in my mouth.

He turned me over onto my stomach and tightened the rope connecting my collar to my ankles, as well as tightening the belt around my arms above my elbows. I was bent back so far that my clamped nipples were not resting on the floor. I heard him leave the cabin. Soon I heard him return and drop some wood down. Apparently there was a wood stove in the cabin, and he intended to start a fire. I hadn’t even thought about the cold, but now I started noticing it.

It took some time, but I finally heard a fire take hold. It took more time, but I finally felt the cabin start to heat up. All this time I was bent back painfully. I again heard the familiar sounds of the ‘click’ of his camera. I wondered when I would be let out of this. The last sound I heard from him was when he left to go into the bedroom. I figured he had decided to get a nap after the exhaustion of erupting a couple of times in quick succession.

Several hours passed while I was bent back. My muscles had been complaining about this for some time. Finally he entered again and released me from that position. I was back to having my wrists cuffed in front of me, and was taken back over to the hanging chain. Soon I was back lifted up like I’d been before, only this time I wasn’t wearing my leathers or boots. With the spreader bar attached I was resting on my toes. He left me like this and I heard him go back to the bedroom. I figured I would be kept like this for the night. I was right.

To be continued …

By Mister-X/Spartan

Day 2.

That night, whether it was because I was tired, because the cabin was warmer from the fire, or because I was starting to get used to this, I got a fairly good night’s sleep while standing stretched. When Master Leach awakened me, it was a repeat of the previous morning. I was still hooded, and had not had use of my eyes since arriving. The ring gag was removed, but that penis gag was always in place, except for eating and sucking cock.

This time, after the warming, exercises, food and shower, he had me stand in the room and spoke to me. “I’ve put all the guys I’ve had here in chains and kept in a prison cell I’ve got down below. They’ve all had that fantasy and looked forward to it. That will be today’s program.” Like he’d said about others, I’ve always dreamed of being put in chains and kept in a prison cell, so I was looking forward to it.

He continued. “I’ve got my opinion of how to keep someone very well secured. See how you like it. So far, everyone I’ve done that to has thought that it was too much. I’m hoping, after what you’d told me you wanted, that you’ll be the first to like it. To be fitted, you’ll have to stand at attention.” Not having been in the military, I obeyed as best I could.

My hands were still cuffed behind my back in those rigid cuffs. I was still gagged and hooded with that big, thick, heavy collar tightly around my neck and the butt plug up my ass, as well as my cock in the spiked sheath. He started by tightly wrapping chains over and under my armpits. Apparently the collar had a couple of rings on each side, because he got some chains which he locked to the rings. These he pulled taut and locked to the chains around my armpits. I felt them tighten under my shoulders. Then he got some longer chains which he attached to the bottom of the chains around my armpits. They hung down to my ankles. Next he got a short chain which had ankle cuffs attached to a link which he cuffed to my ankles and locked to the hanging chains from my armpits after pulling it down as far as he could.

Next he got something metal and rigid which he put over my cock sheath. Whether my cock wanted to be or not, it was now erect. He then got another two chains which had a cuff attached to one of the links which he cuffed to each wrist after unlocking and removing the rigid cuffs. Holding one chain, he tightly wrapped the chain around my upper thigh, just below my crotch. He locked the two ends to a link in the hanging chain. It was a tight fit, and my wrist and that part of the hanging chain were locked tightly to my side. He then duplicated this with the other wrist. I now couldn’t move my wrists or arms up and down.

He then got a couple of short chains and locked them to rings which apparently were in the side of the metal device on my cock to the chains on either side. I wasn’t going to be moving my wrists side to side or my cock would get destroyed. He screwed something into the back of my butt plug and put a chain which was locked to the thigh chain at one side, through a hole in whatever he screwed into my butt plug, and locked to the thigh chain at the other side. I could feel pressure from this pushing the butt plug further into my ass. It was hitting my prostate, which caused my cock to try to get hard, which caused the spikes to dig in.

Next he got another chain which had cuffs attached to links. The chain he wrapped tightly around the upper part of my stomach under my rib cage before he cuffed my arms above the elbow. He locked both ends to the hanging chain. My arms were now tightly against my side at the elbow as well as at the wrist. I couldn’t move them. He even got short chains to attach the connecting chain on my nipple clamps to the hanging chains on either side. This produced more nipple pain.

Finished with this, I heard him leave the room and return with something that was on wheels. “This is a modified prisoner transport chair. I’ll put you in this to wheel you down to the prison cell.”

I’d been in a prisoner transport chair before. These have a deep seat to make it difficult to get out of without help. There is also a recess in the back for someone’s cuffed wrists to set in, but I figured that wouldn’t be needed in this case. There would be hooks on the sides for ankle cuffs. And there would be straps in various parts to go over the body to keep it attached.

This chair differed slightly. Instead of the usual leather straps, there were hooks for the various chains to be locked to. My side chains that hung from my armpits to my ankles were locked to the various hooks that were attached to the chair. There must have been a dozen hooks on each side from my ankle to my armpits. My collar was also locked to the back of the chair. He had tilted the chair up to ease the drop into it, since those chains were keeping me taut, but my knees were able to bend. By the time I was finished being locked to the chair, I couldn’t move a muscle.

All this took some time, and when he was finished, Master Leach said “it’s lunch time. I’ll just leave you here like this to enjoy and fix something for my lunch.” He left, and I heard him fixing his lunch. I was left to try to adjust to being chained tightly to this chair, which included sitting on that item he screwed onto my butt plug. In addition to the usual pain from my nipples, butt plug, and spiked cock sheath, I was starting to get complaints from other parts of my body from the tight chains. But all I could do was sit there and wait. I’d been tied to a chair with rope before, unable to move, but this was something else.

Finally he arrived back. After taking more pictures, he covered me with a blanket and wheeled me outside. I could feel the drop in elevation as we headed down to the lower level. When we got to the door, he pulled out a key and unlocked it. He wheeled the chair inside. After closing the door he turned on a light. I, of course, couldn’t see, but I could tell from the nose holes when he did that.

I heard the sound of a lock being opened, and a door being opened. Then came the long process of unlocking me from the chair. As he was doing so he was saying “I hope you like these chains and this chair. You’ll be experiencing them more later this week as a friend comes by with his van to take you to his place for some fun.” I started thinking about how long I would be able to tolerate being in these tight chains. I knew that they had to already be leaving their marks on me.

Finally he pulled me up out of the chair. He had me stand for a minute before he inched me back into what turned out to be a stand-up metal cell which was about my height (6 feet), and only wide enough for me to fit into. He moved me like you’d walk a cabinet, going from one edge to the other. Once inside with the door closed and locked, he started locking me to the sides. He also attached two more short chains to the rings at the sides of my collar to pull up to lock to the bars at the top. The hanging chains at my ankles were tightly attached to the bottom rings of the cell. My arms were tightly attached to the cell as well.

Just as there were about 12 attachment places for the chains to be locked to hooks in the transport chair, there were also about 12 places where the hanging chain was attached to bars in the cell. I wasn’t going to be moving from my position in this cell. But he had one more final touch to make. There were horizontal bars at the top in the back. He pushed my collar back so that the back of it was behind the cell between the horizontal bars. He got a thin metal bar which he put behind the horizontal bars and through the back of my collar. This tightened my collar considerably. I was starting to choke. He fastened the ends of that thin bar so I wouldn’t be able to remove it, and stepped back.

“I know you are turned on by breath control, so I thought I’d give you something to struggle with while you’re confined here. You will be here for the rest of the day and night. I hope you enjoy it.” Chuckling to himself, he left the room, turned off the light, closed and locked the door, and I heard his boot steps walking away.

I was struggling to get air through those two little pinholes at my nostrils. And I was tightly confined to this cell. I couldn’t move anything, except my cock. It had gotten hard, and was being skewered by those spikes in the sheath. The metal cylinder it was in prevented it from growing any wider, which pushed the spikes in more, since the sheath was flexible. I was in a lot of pain from this. As I was struggling to get air, my cock erupted, producing more pain. I was thinking that this was a truly sadistic way to be confined in a cell. I loved it.

I soon heard him return. I didn’t think he would go to all that trouble just to have me confined here for this short a time. He didn’t. He just came back to take more pictures before leaving. I was to spend the night here like this. I tried to adjust to this strenuous position. I was certainly getting physically challenged.

To be continued …

By Mister-X/Spartan

Day 3.

When Master Leach returned the next morning, I was ready to get out of that cell. That had been something else to go through. I had come here wanting to be physically challenged by being bound, and my time in this cell had done that. I’ve had a lot of experiences in my life, but nothing like this one. I had gotten no sleep last night. I was still struggling with my breathing. My cock had loved it, having erupted three times, though being severely punished each time. It was truly a sadistic experience master had put me through, and I was ready to be released.

First was to remove that thin bar that was restricting my breathing. I breathed a sigh of relief when that was gone. After that, it was just removing all the locks that connected my side chains to the cell. Freed from those, he inched me out of the cell and helped me to sit down in the transport chair, bending my knees and elbows, the only part I could move, with all those locks reconnected again. Covered by the blanket, I was wheeled back up to the main room. As he was removing those locks, he said “after the usual morning routine, we’ll go out riding today. After your day in that cell you need a break. Did you enjoy your time there?”

I nodded my head up and down. “You did? That’s great! That’s my favorite device to put someone in. I’m glad you liked it. I’d like to have you return for more if you’d like. Just thinking about you struggling down there, I jacked off last night. That doesn’t happen often for me.”

After the usual warming, exercises which I appreciated more than usual, food and shower, the routine I’d started to become accustomed to, he removed my hood and cuffs so I could get dressed in my leathers again. It was the first time since I’d arrived that I had use of my eyes. I was still gagged, had the butt plug up my ass, my cock was in its spiked sheath, I had that thick, heavy metal collar on, and my nipples were clamped. My leathers went over all of these, the neck part having been made with a series of snaps, depending on how tight I wanted it to be. Finally I put my helmet on. It was a very tight fit over the gag, but since there was no lock at the back, I was able to get it on. He showed me a mirror, and I couldn’t see any sign of what was underneath my leathers. I was ready to go for a ride.

We went together. The weather had turned cloudy, but it wasn’t snowing and the wind wasn’t blowing. But it was still cold there in all that snow. I wondered where we would be going. After going back down to the highway, we turned right and started continuing up. I hadn’t been up this way before, and I was interested to see the country. We at first climbed to the top, and then headed down a little to a valley. The whole valley was at a higher elevation and was snow covered. After riding through this area, we went up again to another top and down to yet another valley. This one was larger, and was lower down. We finally dropped out of the snow.

When we came to another road we turned right and rode on for a distance. Finally Master Leach pulled off at a little café. He told me to keep my helmet on, but he took his off. We went inside. The guy behind the counter looked up and said “ah, welcome back Master Leach. I see you have another one. Go ahead to your usual table. No one else can see you there.” He winked at me.

We walked around a corner and went into a back table, which was positioned around another corner. He motioned for me to sit in the back corner, and he cuffed my hands behind my back in those rigid cuffs again. The proprietor was soon by and gave Master Leach a menu. He winked at me again before walking away.

Master Leach was engrossed in the menu, and finally decided what he wanted for lunch. When the proprietor returned, he had a glass of water and a glass of yellow liquid which filled only about 1/3 of the glass. I figured I knew what that was. The proprietor had a big smile when he saw me looking at the glass which he put in front of me. After Leach had ordered and the proprietor had left to fix it, Leach got up, picked up the glass that was in front of me, and left the table. When he returned the glass was almost full. He set it down in front of me again and said “that’s your meal. You’ll have to drain it.”

When the proprietor returned with Leach’s meal, he set it down in front of him. Then he got behind me and removed my helmet. He unstrapped the gag and tilted up the glass for me to drink from. I took a sip, and tasted the acrid taste. I could also smell what it was that I was drinking. The proprietor said “c’mon, drink up. It’s the best quality you can get.” I wrinkled my nose and started swallowing. The proprietor only put it down after I had drained the glass.

After it was finished, the proprietor strapped the gag back on and put my helmet back. He reached down between my legs and felt where my cock was. He looked at Master Leach and asked “spiked?”

“Of course.”

“Did this one like your cell?”

“Yes. He’s the first one who liked it.”

“Excellent! So you’ll be having me pick him up to experience mine soon. Let’s see which one he prefers.”

“I bet he prefers mine.”

“And I’ll bet he prefers mine. How much you want to wager?”

“How about I get your slave for a day if I win, and you get this guy for a day if you win.”

He looked at me and said “you’re on. As you know, I close on Tuesdays. So I’ll be by tomorrow.” There was the sound of the door opening and someone coming in, so the proprietor left us. I wondered what I was in for tomorrow. If it was on a par with Master Leach’s cell, then I was looking forward to it. My cock started stirring at the thought.

After Leach finished lunch he removed the cuffs from me, left money on the table, and we left. I looked at the proprietor as we were leaving, and when he saw me looking at him, he winked at me again. We got on our bikes and started heading back the way we came. But this time when we got to the intersection where we’d turned right in that larger valley, we headed straight instead. We continued on for about the same distance as we’d gone the other direction to the café before we pulled off onto a side road. We headed up this one, past some houses, and finally to a lonely farming area. We stopped at a house that I noticed didn’t have any neighbors for a mile or so. There were a couple of cars parked outside.

Again Master Leach told me to keep my helmet on and stay on my bike as he took his off and went up to the door. The guy that answered it greeted Master Leach as an old friend. Then he looked over at me. Master Leach motioned for me to enter the house, and the three of us went inside, the door closed behind us. There was a little area there that was separate from the main house. Immediately I was told to put my hands behind my back. Quickly they were cuffed with those rigid cuffs that master had brought along. Then my helmet was removed and my head was soon back in that leather hood again. Only then was I taken inside the house.

After my leather pants were lowered down I was taken to what must have been a saw horse. I was laid down on the top of it, the handcuffs were removed, and my arms pulled down to the bottom of the front legs, where my wrists were relocked to cuffs attached to each of the legs. My legs were then locked to cuffs at the bottoms of the rear legs. A strap was put around my stomach and pulled tight to make me attached to the saw horse. A chain was brought down from the ceiling and locked to the ring at the back of my collar. My head had to be pulled back for this to happen. I realized that the purpose was to expose my ass and my mouth.

Very soon I felt someone pull out my butt plug. He got on my back and mounted me. I felt the unmistakable feeling of a cock entering my ass, one that was hard. It didn’t take long for it to erupt. I figured it had been looking forward to my visit, and had already gotten hard in anticipation. After that person got off, I felt another get on. I soon had the same experience. Apparently master had called these guys and told them that I was coming, so they could be cumming.

After these two were finished, a third one got on and started in. When he was finished, the four of them adjourned to another room. I was left as I was. One of the questions I heard master ask in the adjacent room was “how many more are coming?” I wondered the same thing. I didn’t hear the answer.

I was kept strapped there for a few hours. It was not an easy position to be in, with my head forced back like it was with that heavy collar around my neck. At least I didn’t have anything restricting my breathing. Finally I started hearing the sound of a car driving up, people getting out, and the front door opening. After introductions were completed, I heard more come into the room.

The first guy wanted to use my mouth instead of my ass. So my hood was pulled up to my nose and my penis gag was removed, replaced with a ring gag. I soon had a cock to lick and suck to try to get hard so it could erupt down my throat. While I was doing this I felt another one enter into my ass. I was having to work two ends at once, something I had done before. But then I got a surprise. One of the guys said “I know this guy. His name is Burke Anderson.”

He was right, that was my name. I didn’t recognize his voice, though. But that shocked me. Here I was servicing someone I didn’t know, but who knew me. My master wasn’t pleased at having my name mentioned. I had thought that I would be anonymous on this trip, and my master had tried to ensure that this would be the case, and here this guy blurted out my name. It kind of ruined things for me for a while. It took my attention off my licking and sucking this other guy’s cock, and he finally said something to get me to focus my attention again on him.

Normally servicing two guys at once would get my cock excited and erupting as well, but it was forced under me by my position on this saw horse. I preferred master’s bench to this. After these two guys had gotten their rocks off, I heard another car drive up and more people come in. I figured there was only one reason they came here, and I was it. I was right. I had three more to service. And by then the first two were ready again. By now my ass was full of seed. It was starting to get messy back there. They had to take some time to wipe my ass clean before the next guy entered it.

Soon there was the smell of cooking. The owner of the house apparently was used to feeding large numbers of people at his home. I finally heard the sounds of everyone leaving and going to another room, the penis gag strapped back, my hood lowered back down after the chain attached to my collar was removed. I was thankful for that. I heard the sounds of silverware against dishes, and figured they were having dinner. But not me. I don’t get either lunch or dinner. I knew I wouldn’t be fed.

After dinner they went into another room and gathered around a fire, visiting. I was left alone at first, but soon they started coming back in to visit me, one at a time, the chain reattached and the penis gag removed. After more servicing, master said that it was time for us to leave, and I was removed, the ring gag finally removed and the penis gag back in. The ride back was at night, and was colder. By then I knew the way, so I didn’t have a problem driving at night. Fortunately the deer were not out on the road.

Back at the cabin meant being strung up again. But this time I was put into a spread eagle, my wrists lifted individually apart by chains and my ankles, as usual, cuffed to a spreader bar. It was a different stressful position to be in, one I’d been in before, though not for the night. I wondered what the proprietor’s cell was going to be like. My cock was stirring at the thoughts I had of what I was going to be experiencing the next day.

To be continued …

By Mister-X/Spartan

Day 4.

After the usual warming, exercises, food and shower the next morning, Master Leach again locked me into the chains. It took some time, as it did the first time, until I was finally tightly standing while in chains. This would be the day I would go to the proprietor’s place to be put into his cell, whatever it was. Master had told me before that someone would be by with his van to pick me up while in the prisoner transport chair, and I figured it would be the proprietor who would do this. With that nice day away to drive around the country, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be tightly chained.

Finished being put into the chains meant next being put into the transport chair. I could hear master leave the room and come back pushing the chair. I was soon back down sitting deeply in the seat while he locked the chains up each side, again with about 12 locks on each side. Again, it took time, but again I was finally attached to that chair. I couldn’t move. My cock was trying to get erect, both from the tight feel of the chains on my body and in anticipation of what lay ahead, so I had more pain to deal with from my cock in that spiked cock sheath tightly confined in the metal cylinder.

Master said that it had started snowing outside, so the proprietor was likely late. We waited and waited. I was starting to get disappointed, until I finally heard the sound of a van driving up. Master Leach went outside, and soon the two of them were back inside. After the blanket was put over me, I was pushed out the door in that chair. There was a ramp set up in the back of the van and I was pushed up that into the van. The chair was soon locked to the sides of the van. I could feel some snowflakes land on the outside of the pinholes at my nostrils as I was taken into the van, so it was still snowing.

The proprietor thanked Master Leach for the loan of me, and he got inside and started backing out. That was when I realized that Master Leach was not coming with me. I was now in the hands of someone I’d only briefly met. With my desire to try something new, no matter what the end result of it would be, I started looking forward to it with both anticipation and trepidation. This experience sounded like it would be a challenge, something I would enjoy, and I again wondered what I was in store for. I didn’t want to spoil it by expecting it to be more than it would be. With all the time I was tightly confined in the chains parts of my body were protesting, but my mind was ignoring that and focusing my imagination on what might lie ahead for me.

The drive to the proprietor’s place took some time, as he drove slowly in the snow. I wondered about the road conditions, since we had gone over a couple of passes the previous day. I started thinking about being in an accident, however minor, and having the police wonder why I was in chains in a prisoner transport chair with no identification. But he made it okay finally, as he pulled into his driveway. He first pushed a button to open a door, and then he drove the van inside. I wondered how extensive his layout would be.

I heard the ramp being set up again, and soon I felt myself being wheeled down out of the van. I was then left while he put the ramp back, before being wheeled into the room. The first thing he did was to remove my hood so I could see. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I looked around. I couldn’t believe this place was so big.

“You know where my café is, since you drove your cycle there. I live above the café, and have this barn in the back. That’s what you’re now in. I made this my dungeon. You’re more than welcome to come here any time you want, though I’m only available for play on Tuesdays. I’ll wheel you around so you can see everything that I have.”

I was surprised at all the devices he had. There were all the usual ones, including a fully stocked gear board. But there were others as well. There was a series of coffins, a rack, several different types of fuck benches, several different kinds of stocks, and much more. I was amazed at how much he had here. I heard a muffled sound, and looked over at a box which had a hooded head sticking out of it. My cock stirred at that sight, as it did at many of the others as I thought of myself being in them. I wondered what the cell would be like that I would be in.

After showing me around, he said “before showing you where you will be kept for the day and night, I’m going to make some changes to your gear. Leach said that you like things hard and tight. As a result, you probably don’t like that soft leather gag and hood. I’ve got something to replace those with that you’ll like better.

After the usual admonishment not to speak, he unstrapped and removed my penis gag. He left and returned with a gag that had a huge long penis. As I stared at that thing he said “I had this made specially out of stiff leather like is used in making belts. It has lots of holes for the buckle to go through in the back so it can be closed as tight as possible.”

He started putting that stiff leather penis in my mouth. Just like master Leach’s cock, it went past my epiglottis and down my throat. I had to concentrate not to gag when he put that in. When it was in I started feeling just how stiff that thing was, particularly around the outside of my mouth. He pulled it tightly closed before buckling it shut. That thing was going to be quite a mouthful to deal with. My eyes must have opened wide, because he said “I see you like it. Good. Most guys don’t. Now for the hood.”

He left and was back with something that looked scary. I saw that it only had those two little pinholes at the nostrils, but it went way down the neck. “I also had this made of the same kind of treated leather that they use for making belts. It also has lots of small holes in the back. I use a zip-tie to close it. But to get it on I’ll have to remove your metal collar. Leach gave me the key to it. After it’s on I should be able to put the collar back on over it.” I just kept staring at that thing.

I felt my collar being removed. The proprietor then started fitting the hood over my head. The feeling I had before from that soft leather hood was nothing like it was with this one. It was pressing in tightly everywhere over my head. And when he started fitting the zip-tie through the holes at the back of my neck and pulling them tight, I was starting to choke again. The holes were just a short distance above each other, which allowed the neck part of the hood to be pulled as tight as possible over every part of my neck. As I started making noises into my gag, some of which actually came out, he said “bend your head down and it will take pressure off as I’m tightening it.” I did as he said, and he was right, I started being able to breathe easier. But all that did was allow him to tighten it more. I wondered what it would be like when I lifted my head back up.

When he finally finished he put the metal collar back on over it. He was right, it was able to be closed and locked. After this was done he said “you can lift your head back up now. Leach said you were turned on by breath control, and he likes to choke guys in his cell, so I figured I’d do that this way. I hope you like it.” I was choking from this just as I was while in Master Leach’s cell. My cock was trying to get hard, and I was having pain again. The proprietor looked at that and said “good. I see you like it. I’ll leave you here to get adjusted while I go fix myself some lunch.”

I still hadn’t gotten to experience his cell yet, but already I was getting excited by the restraints I was in. I figured that if this was a sample of what lay ahead, I would have trouble dealing with it. I hadn’t yet experienced anything that was too much for me, though Master Leach’s cell came close, and I wondered whether this would be the first.

The proprietor was gone for a long lunch. When he came back he said “it will take some time to get you properly locked into that cell. And once you’re in it, you ain’t coming out for a while. I’ll be calling Leach tomorrow to tell him that the roads are not passable due to the snow, so you’ll be here for another day. He’s used to that. And the way things look, the roads really won’t be passable. I’ll put the blanket back over you. The cell is over in my café.”

That surprised me. I hadn’t expected that I would be spending more than a day in his cell, and also didn’t expect it would be in his cafe. It was still snowing as he pushed me over to the café. Once inside it was warm again. He went over to the men’s room and pushed me inside. He started working on some floor boards, and after lifting them up, he revealed a cell underneath. There was also the tubing for the piss to go through that was connected to the piping to go underneath the urinal. This tubing he pulled up.

He started unlocking me from the prisoner transport chair. After I was finally removed, he pulled me up and placed me in his cell. It was a lie-down cell, but with the same kind of attachment points on the sides. He started locking the various points of the body chain to the various points on the sides. It was a tight fit, and to be able to lock the chain to some of them he had to wiggle my body. The cell was all metal, as opposed to the cell with bars that I had been standing in at Master Leach’s. And as opposed to Master Leach’s, in this one I was lying down.

After I was finally attached to all the side locks, he attached chains to my collar and to the chain that went over and under my arms to attach the top of my body to the top end of the cell. He also attached chains to the bottom of the cell which attached my ankles to the bottom. Then he started pulling a crank which had the effect of acting like a rack, pulling the ends away from me, stretching me. After he couldn’t turn the crank any further, he locked it off. I was stretched to the max in that cell.

Next he worked out a part of the hood and the gag to reveal a hole that went through. He picked up the tubing from under the urinal and put it through that hole in the hood and gag. He also got a couple of small plugs that were lying in the cell and put those into the nose holes in the hood. I now had to breathe through the gag. He finally spoke.

“Before I put the floor boards back in place that cover you, I need to explain something. Any piss that is put into the urinal goes into your mouth. This is also the part that you will be breathing through. So when you hear someone who is about to take a leak, don’t take a breath. You’ll be here tomorrow during a work day, and various guys will be coming in to take a piss. Most of them won’t know where it’s going, but some of them do. I put a little code in this room to indicate that there’s someone here. Some of the guys know the code. You’re going to start getting a lot of liquid in you which will circulate through your body. You can go ahead and piss it out when your bladder gets full, but understand, that piss will arch back onto your body. I hope you enjoy it.”

He started putting the floor boards back in place. They fit tightly over my chest, and were soon locked down so that I couldn’t fully expand my lungs. The only space available to me was through that hole at the bottom of the urinal into my mouth. I soon realized that I was going to be breathing through that hole. The thought didn’t appeal to me. I’d drunk piss once before when the output from a urinal went into me. But this would be a new experience for me. The rest of the day and night passed with nothing happening, except for getting excited from that stiff leather gag and hood.

Day 5.

It wasn’t until the café opened the next morning that things started happening. It was a farming area, and a lot of the farmers were out and about early. That meant that they would be coming into the bathroom to take a piss. I had awakened to the sound of getting the café ready. It wasn’t long after that when I got my first piss. It didn’t go into my mouth for me to taste, but the long gag sent it directly into my throat. I had to keep from breathing until it had all drained. I had to be careful to wait for the last drop to go through. With the first one I breathed in that last drop, and started gagging. But I quickly learned, and was able to get through the breakfast crowd.

At lunchtime three of the guys who had erupted into me the day before came in. I recognized their voices, and filled my lungs in preparation. They knew the code and were ready. One started in, and when he was finished the second immediately started in. When he was finished the third one immediately took over. All of them took their time, extending it out as long as they could. I was starting to think bad thoughts about those three. I hoped to meet them when I was free of any restraints.

It took all of my concentration to be able to not breathe while they were pissing, and to finally breathe when they were finished. A drop got through into my windpipe, but by then I’d become accustomed to one little drop making it through, and was able to deal with it. That was the highlight, or lowlight, of the lunch crowd. I then had a quiet time until the dinner crowd.

There weren’t as many people who came by for dinner. I was able to make it through those without a problem. But the effort had gotten me quite tired. I also couldn’t move any other part of my body, except for my cock, all during this time. It was quite an ordeal to go through. In thinking about it afterwards, it was another one of those physical challenges I had come up here wanting, but a different type of challenge. I was glad to have done it. But it wasn’t the same as being in Master Leach’s cell. I loved what Master Leach did to me, whereas this was more of an ordeal to go through. I preferred Master Leach’s, though I liked the proprietor’s gag and hood better.

In between the sessions I would have to take a leak myself as all the piss made it through my system. I stunk pretty badly by the time the proprietor got me out of there. He unlocked everything when he was finished for the night, pulled me out of his cell, and locked me back into the prisoner transport chair. The special gag and hood he put on me he kept on, but he removed the plugs at my nostrils and filled the ones in my gag and hood. He wheeled me back over to his van and wheeled me up the ramp. I noticed that it had stopped snowing. After the chair was secured in his van, he started driving me back to Master Leach’s.

When we got to Master Leach’s, I was wheeled out and into his cabin. I was then asked which of the two I preferred, and gave my preference, also saying what I liked about each. The two went off to the side to discuss details of the exchange. I figured that the guy in the leather hood in that box must have been the proprietor’s slave. I wondered whether I would be seeing him.

After the two masters had decided the details, the proprietor left and I was back being Master Leach’s responsibility. The first thing he did after releasing me from the prisoner transport chair was to take me into the shower to get cleaned off. I was glad to be rid of the piss on my body. Out of the shower meant back to being strung up for the night. I was again stretched out in a spread eagle position, but this time I was lifted off the floor. Again, this was not new to me, but to spend a whole night like this was a new experience. I knew that my wrists were going to be hurting big time from it. Plus the proprietor’s more intense gag and hood were kept on. I wondered if that was part of the exchange.

To be continued …