Quantcast
Channel: Heavy Bondage
Viewing all 301 articles
Browse latest View live

Story –‘A Day in Hell’

$
0
0

Here’s a classic story from ropejock.com…

etiennestretch

the moment i walked into Mark’s den i could tell i was in for much more than i had bargained for. between the den and the study was a large, open, double-sized entry way cut into the wall. i immediately noticed that four big, heavy eye-hooks had been screwed into it’s frame at each of the four corners. there were four lengths of heavy clothesline running through each of the loops in these eyehooks. four thick leather straps hung from one end of each of these ropes. the ropes were threaded through the hoops and then fed to winches which had been installed into the top and bottom at the midpoints of the doorframe. the straps nearest the floor were fed to the bottom winch and conversely, the straps near the ceiling to the top winch.

“what the hell is all this?”, i asked, perplexed.

“it’s how i’ve decided to teach you never to doubt my superiority, in the game of chess, to you, my friend”, a slow, lazy smile spread across his face, “ready to regret your boastfulness?” now he actually chuckled out loud.

i was baffled! it was true, i was cocky about a chess game we’d played and insisted on a bet. we had no extra cash on hand to spare, so he suggested the loser had to do anything the winner said for a whole day. to be a slave. to be subject to the winner’s will for 24 hours. i accepted, yes, that was true enough, but i’d assumed i was going to be some sort of “practical” slave. i thought, if i lost, that i’d have to wash his car, mow the lawn, bring him breakfast in bed, give him foot massages. you know, more a servant. that’s what i had envisioned our bet meant. i had already started a mental list of all the unpleasant chores i was going to have him take care of for me while i sat back and drank beer after cold beer. sounded like a perfect day. but then suddenly “Check Mate!”, those dreaded words. and i had lost. and now i show up here early sunday morning to find that Mark doesn’t plan to simply exploit me for manual labor. he apparently has designs for actually torturing me in some way. i had not bargained for this at all!

he leaned against the doorframe with that cocky smirk on his face. “over here”, he gestured to the ominous looking doorway.

“no way, man!”, i choked out, “we didn’t say anything about torture!! that wasn’t the deal!”

in one swift motion, Mark pulled from his pocket the slip of paper on which we’d scrawled the terms of our bet. he’d already highlighted the keywords he wanted me to notice “anything the winner says for 24 hours” and then his finger pointed down to the bottom of the page where my signature appeared alongside his. my blood ran a little cold. there was no way out of this! if i refused i was a chicken and a welcher besides. “and you’ll need to take this shirt off”, he said as he tugged the collar. i slipped quietly out of the shirt and sighed heavily.

“fine Mark, have your fun, but just be careful. you might just find yourself in my place one day soon and my mercy will be a precious commodity then”, i slumped over to the doorway and held my arms straight out in the direction of the upper corners, “do unto others…”, i warned him with as much of a smile as i could muster.

within a couple minutes Mark had buckled the thick leather cuffs around each of my wrists and ankles. he moved in front of me then and reached up for the handle of the winch at the top of the frame. he stood close to me and stared into my eyes as he turned the crank once. i felt my slackly bound arms pull a bit. he turned the crank a second time. my arms were pulled out straight to either corner. again he turned the crank and i felt a slight tension in my arms. again, and there was a dull ache along my arms.

“okay, Mark, that’s quite tight enough”, i said trying to remain calm as the nature of this setup began to dawn on me, but Mark just grinned bigger and turned the crank again, “OWW!” now my arms were hurting! stretched tight, the muscles were corded and kept taut and yet incapable of affecting any movement whatsoever. i tried with all my might to pull my arms in just a bit to win myself at least a millimeter of slack, but the bonds held me completely immobile. i was sure he would stop then, sure that my arms could not be extended any further without ripping off, but he turned the crank once more and i gasped out loud, “FUCK, Mark!! this fucking hurts, you dick!!”, my fingers flexed in the air, the only movement i could achieve along my arms.

Mark’s only answer was a sadistic chuckle as he bent down to my feet. my ankles were buckled into the lower straps, but my legs still had a lot of slack and he easily wrestled one of my feet off the floor to tug off my old sneaker and sock and then the other. the hardwood floor beneath my warm sweaty soles felt cool. i was aware of that. that and the constant strain in my arms. and then my legs started to move apart towards the bottom corners of the doorframe. Mark had begun to crank my legs apart using the winch mounted in the floor at the bottom of the frame.

“OH NO! i said NO, Mark!! that’s enough! my arms are enough! i draw the line….mmmfmmrghph!”. Mark had stuffed the sock he’d just pulled off my right foot into my mouth and then quickly taped my mouth shut with a piece of duct tape he’d had ready.

“ahhhh yes…that’s nice. sweet, sweet silence”, Mark smiled and pretended to bask in a silence punctuated by my frustrated, muffled protests. the salty, pungent taste of my sock had me wish i’d put on a clean pair that morning. he then began to crank my legs further and further…and further apart. i screamed and yelled angrily for him to stop, but all my efforts merely produced a red face and indistinguishable noises. by the time Mark was satisfied that my legs were stretched out as far as safely possible my entire body was wracked with the tension and i was forced to stand on my toes, soles off the floor. i was held by the firm grip of those bonds in a helpless X across the doorway. even breathing added to the painful tension in my limbs so i began to concentrate on taking only very shallow breaths.

i almost cried as i began to wonder if Mark’s plan was to leave me like this for the entire 24 hours. i decided that he surely couldn’t be that cruel! i would surely go insane if left stretched painfully like that for an entire day. but then it was made clear that Mark’s plans were even more cruel than i’d imagined when he suddenly asked, “so…are you ticklish?” and i began to scream an indecipherable “NO PLEASE NO, NOT THAT MARK, PLEASE!?!” into the effective gag made of my own filthy sock.

“sorry, buddy, i can’t understand a thing you’re saying”, and then he produced a long white feather from a nearby drawer and approached my helpless bare torso twirling the feather between his fingers as i watched, wide-eyed with horror.

“MMRGPH!! MRRMRGPH!!!”, i tried again to appeal to Mark’s mercy, but was prevented by the salty mass of my own sock stuffed in my mouth. i shook my head violently from side to side in an effort to get my message across: “please don’t do this to me!!”, but Mark pretended to have no idea what i wanted. i watched in absolute terror as he placed the tip of the feather against the moist flesh of my exposed left armpit. i tried to move away from it, but Mark had made sure my bondage was so complete, so tight, that i could barely flinch let alone move my body a safe distance from the menacing feather. i whimpered into the gag for one final play at his pity as he began to slowly draw the tip of the feather in light deliberate circles through the hairs under my arm. he only smiled that cold smile of his and picked up the pace of the twirling feather. i gritted my teeth and set my jaw, determined not to give Mark the satisfaction even though i knew that eventually i would cave. soon the feather travelled down my rib cage to tease and torment my navel before making it’s way up the ribs on my other side to the fresh, as of yet untouched pit on my right. by then i was trembling with the effort to retain my composure and i felt a bead of sweat roll from my underarm to trickle down my torso to the waistband of the grey fleece shorts i wore.

i couldn’t believe this was happening! i closed my eyes, tried to ignore the increasingly annoying sensations in my right armpit, and prayed that this would stop before it got any worse. i can’t stand being tickled, but i had never even considered the sheer torture that could be inflicted if i were tickled non-stop while helpless and bound so tightly that movement to protect my most sensitive spots was hopeless. maybe if i could keep from reacting to the torment long enough Mark would become bored and let me go. but then i felt him let the feather drop to the floor and i felt his fingertips lightly rest themselves on my ribcage at either side, motionless. i opened my eyes to see his face right in front of me and that cold, sadistic smile, his leering eyes. he didn’t look bored! “READY!?” i shook my head “no no no noooooo….”, but was ignored.

that was when the torture really began! with a claw-like grip he went to work on my ribs with both hands. now his tack was a much more violent one. he’d tired of the light, teasing effect of the feather and began to attack me with mercilessly insistent fingers. he poked, prodded, grabbed, squeezed!! electricity shot through my torso like lightning and didn’t stop. at least if i had actually been struck by lightning it would have been over quickly, but this went on and on and on… i wanted so bad to run away, or at least use my arms to guard my ribs, but i couldn’t even wriggle. it was maddening!! my body ached from being held in such a rigid, taut grip and my splayed form offered every millimeter of my flesh to Mark’s sadistic whims. after five minutes of this i simply couldn’t take it anymore and i broke down spilling muffled helpless frantic laughter into the otherwise silent room.

“mmmmm yeah! this, i want to hear”, Mark whispered into my ear and then quickly removed the tape and the dirty sock from my mouth while continuing to tickle my side with his other hand. immediately the loud tortured laughter poured from my lips:

“OH OH OHOHOHA HA HAAAAA Ha Ha Ha haha haaaarrgh NO NO NO!!! NO ha ha haaaaa oh oh OH GOD PLEASE STOP! pleeeeeeeeeze?!!?”

he went back to tickling me mercilessly with both hands again. the laughter and pleading went on non-stop then. so much for retaining my composure and not giving him the satisfaction. i could no longer control my reactions and he was much more than satisfied with them. and yet he had no intention of stopping. i could tell by the evil look in his eyes that he was nowhere near finished with me and i felt hopeless. frantic. i felt i would lose my mind if this didn’t stop. sweat now ran freely down my suffering, shuddering torso. my efforts to take only shallow breaths had fallen by the wayside and i gulped air whenever possible even though the deep inhalations caused sharp pains in my hyper-extended arms and legs. with shame i became aware that tears were rolling down my cheeks. tears of frustration, pain, and horrible involuntary laughter.

“pleeeeeeeeeze, pleee-heee-heee-heeeeeze, i-i-i need a b-break!! a break! at least a break, just a break, a sh-sh-short break!! ah ah aaaahahaa ha ha!! please?!”

and it did stop. i remember thanking god, even though i’m not at all religious. i really thought that Mark had finally begun to feel sorry for me and stop my torture. i again concentrated on shallow breaths, my stretched body humming in pain from all of the futile straining against my bonds. and i opened my eyes expecting to see Mark getting ready to unfasten the straps holding me so rigid, but instead i saw his smiling face up close to mine again. in his hand he was holding up several sharp, pointed toothpicks for me to see. and with that cold smirk growing across his handsome face again he asked, “why don’t we see how your feet do?”

“NO!”, i yelled at him, “NO, please?” and i became aware of the exposed soles of my bare feet. the bondage had me standing on just the tips of my toes. my feet ached from the position and i tried to lower them flat to the floor to protect the sensitive balls, arches and heels of my feet, but there simply wasn’t enough slack. dropping from the tips of my toes helped not at all. the soles of my feet still could not rest against the floor. taking my bodyweight off my toes only increased the stretch in my arms. with a fresh wave of frustration i realized there was no way for me to protect my feet either and they were about to experience the same treatment as my torso. except that i knew it would be much, much worse! ever since i was a young boy my feet had been hideously ticklish! easily the most sensitive part of my body! and then Mark dropped to the floor and sat near my trapped left foot.

i felt a sharp little jab, like a pinprick, against the tender flesh of my left heel. i closed my eyes tight then, set my jaw and gritted my teeth to prepare for what was to come. the first stroke, which was a slow firm-pressured one, travelled with deliberate cruelty from the heel, across my instep, and then down to the ball of my foot where it rested on the floor supported only by my toes. a bolt of pure panic coursed up my leg to explode in my chest and in my brain and before the sensation could fully register, Mark was scraping the toothpick back up the length of my foot. under the weight of my body and the helplessness in the face of this torture, my legs began to tremble and literally vibrate in a muscle-taxing, ticklish agony. Mark was very amused by this, that fucking jack-ass!

“ha ha…your legs are shaking man”, he felt he needed to inform me as he giggled at my misery and continued stroking my vulnerable left sole with that evil little toothpick, “what’s the matter man? you tryin’ to dance? ha ha…kootchy koo, mr. chess pro…ha ha ha!!”

“YOU FUCKING DICK!!! AH AH HAHAAA HAARGH!! YOU DICK, LET ME GO NOW…YOU MOTHER-FUCKING BITCH!! AH AHAHAAA…”

i shouldn’t have said it, i know. it was not the smart thing to do, but i wasn’t thinking. the pure anguish of the moment had unwisely allowed my anger to spill out unchecked.

Mark suddenly stopped torturing my foot and stood up to look me directly in the face as i panted heavily, trying to catch my breath. i remember how his face looked then, so beautiful. his dark hair hung in his eyes, face flushed with a sadistic glee. he wore a tight t-shirt and i could see his small, hard pecs through it. i noticed his nipples were hard and then suddenly realized with a shock that i had an erection. and then a bead of sweat from my brow made it into my eyes, stinging them, and i blinked away the tears.

“i thought i’d made it clear that i’d let you speak only if it were things i wanted to hear. laughing, groans, begging…that, i like. insults and curses…not so much”, Mark watched me closely as he lifted up one of his feet to pull off a grungy old leather nike hi-top. the sweatsock underneath was so filthy and drenched with sweat that it clung, as if molded to the perfectly shaped foot within. i realized his intent as soon as he reached for the top of the sock and began peeling it from his hot foot.

“NO! Mark, please? okay. ok. i’m sorry, very, very sorry. no more insults, i promise. please?”

but by now, especially since i’d stupidly made it clear how much i didn’t want this to happen, he was determined to do it.

“man, if you thought your sock was bad, wait’ll you smell this one. three basketball practices in these, my friend!”, he giggled sadistically and wrestled with my jaw until he forced my mouth open and in went the dirty, salty sock. then more tape over my mouth. and then, to my horror, he began to unlace his other shoe. i shook my head, “no, please, no” but within a couple minutes he’d taken that sock off too and affixed it to my head so that the filthy thing was directly over my nose. he wanted to make sure i got the full effect, i guess. the pungent smell of the sock, moist and warm from his foot, was a strong mixture of leather, rubber, slight mildew, and his sweat. with shame, i realized the stench had made my cock even harder and i began to pray that he didn’t notice it.

i looked down to the floor and saw that he was flexing his perfect and newly freed toes. he moaned lightly in pleasure at being barefoot and smiled, “mmm, that feels good…been wearing those hot shoes all day long.”

seeing his beautiful feet there in front of me, flexing, and smelling them on the sock tied to my face made my cock grow even stiffer and the sweatshorts i wore began to feel tight and uncomfortable. i glanced at my crotch in dread and saw that the outline of my bulging penis was clearly visible through the fabric. i began to pray again that he not notice and tried to will the erection to subside, but as if on cue:

“oh boy!”, Mark teased maliciously, “what’s this?” and with that he touched the tip of my cock through the shorts with just a fingertip. he’d never touched me there before. i hadn’t even known that he had any inclination in that direction. i had just always assumed he was completely straight. the contact of his finger with my glans, even through the cotton, sent an erotic shiver from my crotch up to my neck. he stroked down it’s length then, only once, and my cock jerked in anticipation. then he took his hand away and a new torture was added to my current misery. my lust had been awakened and now my penis ached for his touch, which apparently he was going to be very stingy with.

“hmm. hmm. ha…looks like there’s something about this predicament you like”, he chuckled.

i felt my face redden with embarrassment. it was true that i wanted the torture to be over more than i could ever remember wanting anything before. but at the same time i could never remember being more turned-on either. i felt i was going mad. i groaned in utter anguish and pulled at my bonds without affecting any movement at all, other than shaking my head from side to side and flinging droplets of sweat into the air.

i slumped in my bonds, giving in to the unyeilding support of the tight ropes, and my eyes came to rest on Mark’s crotch as he chuckled sadistically in front of me. his cock was as engorged as mine! it strained against his jeans, forming a huge bulge. now it all made since. he was getting off on torturing me this way! that’s what this was all about. he was getting his rocks off at my expense!

“ready to get back to work?”, a crazy smirk crossed his lips and i cried garbled protests into his stinking sock as he laughed at me. he pulled the front of my shorts down then, just far enough so my erect cock popped out. something almost like glee in the face of this torture began to flood over me as i mistakenly assumed that he was about to suck me off, or at least give me a handjob. when he picked up the toothpick instead, i tried to scream “NO!” but was again thwarted by the gag.

he grabbed my cock roughly and held it’s rigid length in the palm of his hand. i could only watch in silence that smirk spread across his face again, the tip of the toothpick creep closer and closer to the head of my penis. even stretched-out as tight as i was, my muscles found room to tense even tighter just before he made contact.

he pricked the tip of my dick hard with the sharp end of the toothpick then and maintained the awful pressure for a couple seconds before pulling away. the quick pain was intense and insistent. it burned almost and forced a sharp intake of breath. since my mouth was sealed with tape i had to breathe heavily through the stinking filter of Mark’s dirty sock over my face. if i’d been free to vocalize i’m sure a loud “YELP!” would have accompanied the jab. Mark noticed my eyes clench shut and saw my cock jerk with a strangely erotic pain in the palm of his hand. he laughed.

the toothpick descended again to painfully jab the head of my cock, but this time, instead of pulling away quickly, Mark began to slowly and firmly trace a large vein with the sharp point, from the head down to the root. i whined through the gag and fresh tears of pain and frustration welled up in my eyes again. i tried to blink them away, embarrassed, as the shooting pain along my rigid, pulsing shaft gradually subsided. my cock still lay helplessly trapped in Mark’s hand, but now he folded his thumb in to press against the swollen glans. he began making small circles around and around the ridge of it’s mushroom cap. i could feel my erection growing even harder under the warm, rough pad of his thumb. it was an intense pinpoint of pleasure in a sea of torment. the pleasure grew and grew and grew. for a few seconds i was so enrapt with pleasure that even the pain of my racked body was forgotten. my nerves began to vibrate and tingle with ecstasy as it seemed Mark were about to reward my stoicism with a mind blowing climax…and then it stopped! i hung alone again, stretched painfully across the doorway, my head and cock literally pounding with lust, my erection bobbing in the air out in front of me, ignored.

i heard giggling and looked up, “gives new meaning to the word prick-tease, doesn’t it? ha ha!”. he held up the evil little toothpick for me to see, “get it? PRICK-tease, ha ha ha…!”

Mark stood in front of me. he’d let go of my cock and was no longer touching me, though he stood close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. i wanted him so bad i felt i would swoon.

he backed away from me and was framing me with his hands, like a painter cropping a scene he was about to paint. i groaned as loud as i could, begging him with my eyes not to leave me so unsatisfied, ready to promise him another day of torture if only he would let me come. he backed up a little more and flopped casually down into a big overstuffed armchair. he sighed loudly to exaggerate how comfortable he was in the face of my absolute misery. he had a huge grin on his face as he kicked back and surveyed me.

“hmm, ha…ya’ know? i can’t imagine a prettier picture than this!’, he taunted, “wish i had a camera. ha ha.”

he swung his legs up over the arm of the chair, apparently happy, for the moment, to just relax and watch me ache. his beautiful bare feet protruded from his jeans, and his position afforded me a perfect view of his wide, smooth soles. he wiggled his toes a bit because i think he knew it would turn me on. the pain in my body and the erotic sensations coursing through my veins had me breathing quickly and shallowly. each breath infused with the smell of the sexy feet i could easily see, but not reach, across the room from me.

and then, in a deliberate display of cruelty, Mark began to do for himself what i so badly wanted him to do for me. first he pushed his t-shirt up to expose his firm, lightly hairy stomach. he lazily twirled his fingers through the wispy black hairs as i watched, then he reached down with his other hand and unzipped his jeans slowly so that the huge mound underneath gradually pushed it’s way through the opening. still covered by the white cotton of his underwear, he used a fingertip to lightly graze across the straining shaft. it visibly pulsed once, twice, and then he chose not to wait any longer. with one hand up his shirt squeezing a pec, his other pulled the hard cock out of his underwear. he watched me watch him as he squirted a generous dollop of lubricant along the length of his dick and began rhythmically stroking it, slow at first, then faster and faster. i literally began to salivate with unrestrained, helpless lust. i could feel Mark’s sock in my mouth become soggy with my saliva as i watched the scene before me. my cock bobbed and jerked in mid-air but was left to simply dance there, unrelieved.

Mark’s fist continued to pump his slippery, shiny cock faster and faster. his hand blurred with the motion as he threw his head back, “uh uh UNNNGHA AH AHHHH…hah hah aaaaaaahhhh yyYESSSS!!” and i watched his feet, soles facing me, his toes flexing wildly as he came. the thick white stream shot up past his shoulder and disappeared behind the chair. a sheen of sweat gleamed across the surface of his skin of his bared abs and face as he slumped back, utterly satisfied and spent.

“didn’t that look fun?”, Mark was smiling smugly across the room at me then. blind with lust i could only weakly nod, yes, in hopeless frustration.

my entire body trembled with urgent desire in it’s inescapable bondage. i could think of only one thing…my aching cock! looking down at it jutting out below my belly i could see it involuntarily jerk futiley in the air with desperate need every few seconds. with each unsatisfying pump into thin air, a little more pre-cum oozed from it’s tip. i never knew needing to come could feel that bad! i whimpered with frustration into Mark’s sock-gag.

at that point Mark walked up beside me. he stood very close to me, my cock lightly brushed against his jeans sending what felt like an electric jolt up the shaft. he reached up to gently pull the tape away from my mouth and take the sock out. i immediately began flexing my aching jaw as Mark smiled and watched me closely. he was still breathing hard from his recent orgasm. i could feel his hot breath against my neck. he reached down into his jeans with one hand and it emerged with his fingers wet with cum. he traced the slick fingers across my lips as if applying lipstick, and when he was done i licked the delicious, salty coating from my lips. another involuntary jerk of my cock caused it to brush against the rough denim of Mark’s jeans again and with a gasp, i begged, “pleeeeeeeeeze…?”

“please?”, Mark jumped at the chance to taunt me, “please what?…please tickle you some more?!”, he moved his hands to place them at each side of my ribcage, poised in a threat of inevitable torture.

“NO!! please? not that, no…please”, i blubbered pathetically, scared to death that the tickle-torture would start again.

“well what then?”, Mark dropped his hands from their threatening position and feigned exasperation, “what is it you want? i don’t have all day, you know!!”, a wicked smile spread across his face then, “oh wait…what am i saying? i do have ALL DAY, don’t i?”

i craned my neck around to see the clock on the wall in the den. only three hours had passed!! surely he wouldn’t keep this up all day. i couldn’t take twenty-one more hours of this!! i wanted to object, but was afraid i’d get gagged again if i made the smallest complaint, so i kept my lips sealed for the moment. he giggled when he saw me glance at the clock, enjoying the hopelessness he knew i felt.

“well, what?! WHAT do you want?”, he demanded.

he was going to make me say it! he knew what i wanted and the asshole was going to make me say it anyway! i hesitated a moment and then quickly swallowed my pride and stammered, “please, Mark…please let me c-come?”

he literally doubled over laughing then, holding his stomach to exaggerate how funny he thought the situation was. and then, still giggling to himself, he crouched down in front of my cock and teased the throbbing head with one fingertip. just lightly stroking the underside of the glans. short, light, teasing strokes that promised nothing more. i didn’t think it possible, but the need, the frustration i felt became even more acute and my brain knew nothing but that my body needed to come! i pulled and strained against the bonds holding me motionless and i groaned loudly in an agony of lust.

“you want me to make you come?”, Mark teased, pretending to make sure he understood my request correctly while still tickling the tip of my penis with his finger.

“y-y-yessss!”, i didn’t hesitate this time.

he continued tantalizing my cock a few more moments, staring up into my suffering face as he did and then suddenly and cruelly his answer finally came, “no, not now. maybe later…if you’re good” and he stood up then, leaving my cock without even the touch of his teasing fingertip.

i felt the tears of frustration welling up in my eyes again and tried blinking them away, but a couple escaped and rolled down my face. with a gentle touch Mark reached out and wiped them from my cheeks and then touched his fingertips to his tongue. he smacked his lips and smiled, “anything else you want?”

“YES! stop torturing me and let me down!”

“now, now, let’s be reasonable…anything else?”, he waited, smiling.

my legs were on fire! the position i was tied in had me standing on my toes and the uppermost part of the balls of my feet. all the muscles in my feet ached and my calves felt as if they were splitting! my legs were shaking uncontrollably with the strain, had been for quite some time. all the muscles along my splayed arms into my shoulders and upper back were burning with the tension of the bondage. the discomfort of being stretched-out like that was second only to the unsatisfied yearning of my inflamed cock.

“well…can you at least loosen these ropes a bit? i feel like i’m being torn apart, and i’ve been standing on my toes for more than three hours now! feels like my muscles are ready to snap! please?”, i asked, expecting my request to once again be denied. i was beginning to think he just enjoyed being able to refuse me whatever i asked.

but to my surprise the request was granted with a sugar-coating of mock sympathy, “oh, well, of course. anything for a friend. poor old muscles just can’t take anymore, huh? now why didn’t you say so sooner?”

he moved close to me again and reached up to release the tension of the winch, notch by notch. i smelled the light scent of sweat from his armpit so near my face. the musky odor filtered through the dirty sock still fixed over my nose. my cock was still painfully hard, but at least the tension in my arms was slackened. he left my wrists tied but with enough slack so i could flex my arm muscles, easing them somewhat, and i could stand flat on my feet now, relaxing my aching calves. it was a delicious feeling to be released from such tension after so long a time. the absence of the pain was a pleasure in itself. then i noticed Mark crouched at my feet, untying the ropes from the leather cuffs strapped around my ankles.

“a-a-are we done? are you letting me go!?”, i was afraid to ask , but did.

“oh, no no no! i’m not even close to being finished with you”, Mark laughed, “there’s just a little game i want you to play”

and that’s all the explanation he would give as he moved my legs together. then he buckled the straps encircling my ankles together and used another piece of rope to secure them to the base of the winch bolted to the floor in the middle of the doorway. Mark left the room then and i was alone, crucified in the doorway, arms out to the corners of the frame, legs bound together, waiting to play whatever new game Mark had in mind.

my bare feet, leather ankle cuffs linked, were tied to the front of the winch’s base. this placed my feet in front of me with my body tilted slightly backward, arms out-spread. the position wasn’t exactly comfortable, but was heaven compared to the extended stretch i’d endured for more than three hours. i flexed my aching toes, massaging the top of one foot with the sole of the other. then Mark appeared again, carrying a cardboard box.

“remember, one complaint and…”, he nudged the wet sock he’d only recently removed from my mouth with his toe, “i’d keep quiet for now if i were you.”

he set the box down at my feet and he sat on the floor next to it. first, he pulled a small leather strap with snaps on it from the box. a cock ring, but he used it to wrap around both of my big toes, pulling it tight and snapping it closed. now my feet couldn’t move independently. in addition to being fastened together at the ankles and anchored to the immovable base of the winch, my big toes were linked, preventing me from massaging one foot with the other, or protecting one with the other. the only movement i could make with my lower extremities was to raise and lower my toes. i tested this out and a big smile grew on Mark’s handsome face. i was beginning to fear those smiles.

“yeah, that’s it! you got it. you’re gonna do well at this game, i can tell!”, Mark couldn’t suppress an eruption of giggles, “watch, lift up your toes. now hold on a sec…”

i lifted my toes back, away from the wood floor. Mark reached back into the box and pulled out a black metal square with a little red button in the middle. he placed this button directly beneath my up-raised toes and used a lot of electrical tape to hold it soundly in place on the floor. my curiosity was peaked, but i was afraid to ask any questions for fear of being taken for complaining. i didn’t want to be gagged with his filthy sock again. i wanted to ask him to please remove the ripe sock he had attached to my face as well, but thought better of it. no need to provoke him. i had no idea what he was up to yet, and wanted to remain in his good graces.

next Mark produced two metal rings, one slightly larger than the other. they were hinged and he opened them both. first he placed the larger one around the base of my scrotum and snapped it closed. next he snapped the smaller one around my penis, just under the swollen head. the rings were tight and extremely confining. the two bands of unyeilding pressure caused my penis to swell even larger. my cock ached and pulsated in their grip. i could feel the blood pounding in the constricted arteries there. then he took out two wire leads. one end of these he attached to the metal square beneath my toes and then one was attached to the metal ring at my scrotum and one to the ring just under my glans. now i began to worry in earnest. what the hell was this game?

i panicked when i saw the next item removed from the box. a small electrical transformer meant for a model train set. without thinking, my voice erupted unwisely from my throat, “NO! NO FUCKING WAY!!”

without a word, Mark walked over to where the soggy gag lay on the floor and before i knew what was happening he’d stuffed it back into my mouth and taped it closed. “a shame”, he shook his head, “i’d hoped to hear your shrieks at full volume, but i refuse to listen to such verbal abuse!”. he chuckled to himself and gave me a surprise goose on either side of my ribcage which made me jump in my bonds. and then he dropped to the floor again and attached a wire running from the transformer to the black metal plate at my feet.

“i advise you to lift your toes now”, keeping my toes raised had become tiresome and at some point i had rested them on top of the metal plate, depressing the red button there. Mark warned me again, “i’m about to switch this transformer on and believe me, you won’t want that button pressed when it is…understand?” that evil smile again.

with a silenced moan i lifted my toes up, away from the red button. i had to almost rock back on my heels to clear the button, straining my toes uncomfortably backward lifting even the top part of the balls of my feet from the floor. it was not a pleasant position to hold for very long.

“do you see now how the game is played?”, Mark asked, giggling sadistically. unfortunately, i did.

Mark watched my face as he switched the transformer on and set the intensity dial in the middle. a quiet hum radiated from the little black box, a warning of the power waiting to be released inside. quickly and without warning Mark reached out and tapped the button. a quick burst of electricity exploded in my cock and balls. the pain felt as if it had grabbed ahold of my penis and yanked it sharply. i knew the transformer didn’t have enough power to do me any real damage, especially set on medium power, but the flash of agony vibrated along my shaft and through my balls, tearing a muffled scream from my lungs nonetheless. it hurt! it hurt, and yet the coursing, vibrating stream of electricity running through my cock had brought me right to the brink of orgasm, but the pain had kept me from actually cumming. despite this new torture, my erection was more rigid than ever.

“see? hurts like hell, huh? ha, ha ha…”, Mark was enjoying himself immensely now, “…you’re gonna want to make sure you keep those toes up…no matter what! right?” i nodded my head.

sporting that wicked smile again, Mark flopped onto his stomach, lying across the floor directly facing my raised toes. he scooped up a couple of the toothpicks from the floor. brandishing one in each hand, he brought their cruel points closer and closer to my toes. i shook my head wildly from side to side, begging him with my eyes and whimpering pitifully behind the gag. but he ignored my attempt at pleading altogether, eager to play his game.

“now remember to keep those toes up at all costs…”, he reminded me again just before the sharp points of the toothpicks made contact with the tender pads of my big toes.

the initial contact caused a sharp intake of breath and i bit down on the sock in my mouth to keep from releasing a muffled shriek. Mark immediately began to firmly trace circles around the pads of both my big toes simultaneously with the devilishly sharp ends of the two little toothpicks. my toes badly wanted to curl up and protect the tender flesh there from the assault, but i focused my will on keeping them as still as possible and safely raised above the ominous red button beneath them on the floor.

when Mark began to let the tips of the toothpicks take occasional detours from needling the pads of my big toes to dip down and torment the infinitely ticklish skin between my big and second toes, my toes literally began to vibrate with the need to clench up and protect themselves as much as possible. but i steeled myself. i kept them raised and still, except for the slight trembling. i kept them raised, exposing themselves utterly to the torture, because i knew that even a slight curling of my toes would depress that sensitive little button and i had already been shown that the result of that was even worse than the relentless tickling.

soon he’d added each of my ten flexed toes, in between them, and the slightly raised plump balls of both feet to the territory that he tortured. i tried to predict his each move because if i knew what to expect next i could prepare and endure it, but occasionally he’d surprise me with a sharp jab to a sensitive spot, or move one hand over in order to apply both toothpicks to the same set of toes. at times like that i’d be startled, taken off guard, and my toes would jerk about and spasm, each time coming closer to activating the button, the fucking transformer trigger! and every time i came close to losing it, i’d hear Mark chuckle sadistically and he’d glance up at my exposed cock and balls just in case i dropped my feet enough to send one of those painful bursts of electricity through the rigid shaft.

for 45 minutes Mark treated my helpless toes to this ordeal. i knew it was 45 minutes because the clock on the wall taunted me with what felt to me to be an intolerably slow passage of time. my stoic silence had failed me after only 10 minutes. in less than a quarter of an hour Mark’s evil “game” had reduced me first to muffled giggling, then to outright screaming for mercy and Mark simply pretended not to understand the meaning of my garbled, desperate pleas:

“what? you want it here, between these two toes?”

“faster? press harder, you say?”

“don’t stop?”

twenty minutes into this “game” tears were freely running down my face, a fresh wave of sweat poured down the length of my bound, trembling body and uninterrupted tortured laughter bubbled up my throat from deep in my chest only to be half stifled by Mark’s sock still gagging me.

about thirty minutes into the ordeal Mark became frustrated that i’d managed to control the position of my toes so well and began to rapidly, randomly and with a painfully firm pressure, poke at my toes and balls of my feet with a savage vengeance. the agony i was in markedly increased with this new technique. sharp pricks of pain and indescribably ticklish sensations blossomed at my toes and eventually they could take no more. against my straining, focused will, my toes finally curled reflexively away from the source of their torment and i felt them come into contact with that little red button. i pulled them back immediately, but it was too late.

i had only a fraction of a second, a fraction filled with dread, to steele myself for the bolt. i heard the hum of power collecting and then felt the excruciating shock applied simultaneously to my balls and cockhead. i looked down to see my cock and balls protruding over the top of my cotton shorts, the entire rigid shaft vibrating and bucking under the influence of the punishing electrical charge. the current felt like a white hot hand twisting and pulling my nuts and glans. i screamed and it was loud in the room, even through Mark’s stinking sweatsock. more tears flooded into the tracks of the previous ones and i squeezed my eyes shut. and then the pain was gone as quickly as it came. i breathed deep, trying to collect myself, only to hear Mark laughing at me and i looked down to see him getting ready to start poking my toes again.

” oh god”, i thought to myself, “he has no mercy at all!!”

i bit down on his sock again and desperately fought to keep my toes still, but it was useless. this new technique was devastating. Mark knew it was working and the sadistic pricking went on incessantly as he grinned up at me evilly. waiting. and then my toes involuntarily jerked again, depressing the button again, and for the second time since the game had begun my cock was treated to an agonizing bolt of electricity. intense pain flooded my erect penis again, pain mingled with a pure, urgent need to come. then the current running through my cock and balls subsided leaving my cock frustrated on the verge of unattainable orgasm and leaking precum. i felt i would pass out and i slumped in the bondage, toes lifted up again, of course.

“okay, i guess you’ve earned a rest, buddy”, i heard Mark say then and he flipped the switch cutting off power from the transformer. with a sigh of relief i relaxed my aching, tense toes and let them rest on the floor, depressing the now inactive button. and then his doorbell rang. Mark left the room and i used the time to flex my stiffening toes and collect myself. a few minutes later i heard:

“what the fuck is going on here!?!”

i opened my eyes to see our mutual friend, Kyle, standing there with a huge grin on his face, staring at me, in awe of my predicament. a wave of embarrassment washed over me. i felt even more vulnerable and exposed standing there in front of both of them now, my desperately hard cock and balls hanging out of my shorts. my instinct was to cover myself, but i couldn’t even move. Kyle had entered the room with Mark who was laughing out loud and answered, “he lost a bet, man, what can i say?”

“cool…”, Kyle whispered almost under his breath as he walked slowly up to where i was bound in the entrance way.

he sidled up very close to me. Kyle was a scruffy dark-blonde haired boy. he wore a sparse goatee and his short hair was spikey and unkempt. his blue eyes twinkled and an amused smile spread across his handsome face as he surveyed my miserable condition. he shook his head slowly from side to side as he looked me over, clucking his tongue as if to say, “what have you gotten yourself into now?”

i could say nothing intelligible through the gag and could only stand there as he studied me. i had a distant hope that he would object to this treatment of me and release me himself, or at least try and convince Mark to let me go. this hope vanished as i saw the look of cruel fascination on his face as he took in the details of my bondage. his eyes traveled down my arms, spread and bound at the wrists out to the corners of the doorframe, to my sweat-damp and exposed armpits, across my stretched chest and torso, and down my legs to where they were bound together at the ankles and toes to the winch bolted to the floor at the mid-point of the frame. when he looked back up to my face, the grin on his face was even bigger. he motioned to the sock fixed over my nose and looked behind himself at Mark, “this sock yours?”

Mark laughed, “yeah”

“one you just took off…or a clean one?”, was Kyle’s next question.

Mark smirked, his dark hair falling across his eyes as he nodded his head, “yep, just took ’em off. and they are far from clean, believe me! the other one’s in his mouth.”

“oh man!! that is soooo mean!”, Kyle replied, and my heart soared as i thought that just maybe he might plead my case for me after all, and then it sunk when i heard him immediately exclaim, “I LOVE IT!!! ha ha ha…”

then he crouched in front of me, staring at my exposed, wired cock and balls. he reached out and pulled back the elastic band of my shorts from under my balls as far as it would stretch. i felt shamed again and yet it seemed to only make my dick even harder. “and this!”, Kyle motioned to my crotch, “what’s going on here?” he let the waistband of my shorts go then and it snapped back against my balls. i groaned deep in my chest at the unexpected pain and they both laughed.

Mark explained to him the game he’d been making me play with the transformer. Kyle bent down to my toes to examine the button there. he touched the wires leading to the rings around my scrotum and glans. he tugged lightly at them stimulating and teasing my engorged cock. i gasped, but the sound was absorbed by Mark’s sock. Kyle looked up at my face, focusing on my eyes, and he said, “well, let’s fire her up! i want to see this!”

i wanted to scream “NO!! no more…please!?!”, but i could only widen my eyes in terror and shake my head wildly.

“it doesn’t look like he wants to play”, Kyle observed, and laughed.

“yeah…he hates this game, but his break’s been long enough. let me just make a little adjustment here”, i looked over at Mark just in time to see him fiddle with a dial on the transformer, and then he switched it on without warning. my toes had still been resting on the button and i heard the hum of the surge collecting again. i lifted my toes immediately, but again it was too late. Mark had adjusted the transformer so that the two rings no longer delivered their shocks simultaneously. first the charge built slowly in the ring around my scrotum. it was intensely pleasurable at first. my balls hummed with the delicious low level current. my cock felt as if it were growing harder and harder, but the charge kept growing in it’s intensity. by the time it began to register as pain, i could feel the cum churning in my balls. i was just about to orgasm. i was at the threshold of ecstasy. my semen came to a boil and was just about to shoot like a dart from my dick when the scrotum ring transferred the charge to the ring just under my cockhead. but the second ring translated the charge at full force, not gradually. it felt like a hot iron fist had encircled the end of my cock and squeezed it shut just as the semen had began to rush down the length of my cock. the imminent orgasm was stopped short by the intensely painful blast to my glans. and then the pain was gone. and i was even more erotically frustrated than before. my face was wet with tears again. i shook it off. and i stood there, sweating in silence, toes safely raised above the button. i stood there in misery, my toes aching, my body sore, and my two “friends” stood there and laughed at me.

“man, i bet that hurt!!”, i heard Kyle exclaim.

“wanna’ try?”, Mark teased him.

“no thank you! i think i like being on your team better, ha ha ha…”, to my dismay Kyle seemed to enjoy seeing me suffer as much as Mark did. i felt hopeless. i looked at the clock. only six hours had passed!! was he really going to keep torturing me for 24 hours!?! i felt like i couldn’t take anymore. i just wanted it to stop, to be over! i was sure that making this bet was the most stupid thing i’d ever done.

“so now we just wait for him to lower his toes for another shock? hee, heee…”, Kyle rubbed his hands together in a comical display of sadism, “how long will that take?”

“well you can do things to him to try and make him drop his toes, if you want. be my guest. i tickled his feet for almost an hour with the transformer on. i’ve never seen the poor guy so distressed!! ha ha ha…”, i began to think Mark was the devil…and i was in hell!

“he’s ticklish then?”

“like a little girl!”

Kyle got up and walked over to me. he stood directly in front of me, staring into my face again as he asked Mark, “on his ribs?”

“everywhere!!”

Kyle placed a hand on either side of my lower ribcage. his fingertips rested lightly and motionlessly just above each of my hips, on the sweat-slicked skin of my bare and vulnerable torso.

“oh god!”, i thought to myself, “oh god, please, no! no more no more nomorenomore…”

and then he dug into my ribs with relish, playing my sides like some fiendish instrument in hell. panic flooded my nervous system and there was no escape. i could only scream and laugh and cry and shriek and whimper into my sweatsock gag. Kyle’s strong hands ran up and down my ribs without a hint of mercy. up and down my ribs endlessly and with a cruel vigor i’d never noticed in him. occasionally his tormenting fingers would dip into my wet armpits and torture me there with agonizingly light strokes through the sweat-plastered hair before going back to work on my ribs. i knew he was trying to distract me from keeping my toes raised, but through it all, through every horrible second of his tormenting, i kept my feet flexed safely away from the button. and through all this torture my cock stayed as hard as steel.

finally he gave up. i looked at the clock again. he’d tickled me non-stop for 30 minutes!

Kyle flopped onto a couch next to Mark and for a few minutes they just kicked back and smiled at me in my precarious position. then Kyle’s eye fixed on something across the room, “hey, how about this…!”

he got up and walked over to the corner of the room where Mark kept some exercise equipment. he picked up a 5 pound ankle weight and brought it over to where i was bound in the doorway. he knelt in front of me and laid the padded weight cuff over the tops of my feet. he brought the velcro straps together under the balls of my feet and fastened them, making sure i wouldn’t be able to shake the weight off. and then he took his place next to Mark again to watch.

Mark playfully shoved Kyle’s shoulder and laughed, “you’re evil, man!”

“how long do you think his toes can hold that weight?”, Kyle asked.

“well, his feet have got to be pretty fuckin’ tired after what i put ’em through earlier, so probably not too long!” and they grinned at each other in a shared maliciousness.

the extra weight hurt! i looked down to see every tendon in the tops of my bound feet straining to maintain the weight. i don’t know how long i put it off, but eventually the muscles in my feet gave in to the strain and my toes dropped. another agonizing shock to my cock and balls from the transformer. the pain was bad, but even worse was the manner in which Mark had adjusted the current to flow. a slow milking of my balls, bringing my urgent need to come to a peak and then a sharp shock to the head of my cock, preventing me from the release i wanted even more than i wanted the torture to end. to my horror, after my toes failed me once, i realized that there was no way i could hold that weight with my toes indefinitely and every couple of minutes, completely against my will, my feet would fail under the weight and dip to the floor, depressing the button. and so time and time again my cock was milked and shocked, milked and shocked… i was out of my mind with pain and lust!

Mark and Kyle just kicked back on the couch and watched me suffer. they were rolling with laughter, enjoying every moment of my misery. and just when i thought my body could take no more, and i was beginning to think the torture would never end, Mark shut off the transformer.

“i think he’s had enough of that”, i heard him say to Kyle and i slumped again, exhausted, frustrated beyond human endurance, flexing my cramped toes and staring down at my pulsing needy cock, dreaming of how beautiful it would be if i could just take it in my hands and get myself off. finally!

“what are those for?”, i heard Kyle ask Mark and opened my eyes to see him motioning to the two winches at the top and bottom of the door frame. Mark explained that with my legs tied out to the corners instead of together, my body could be slowly and deliberately stretched out in a more and more painful spread-eagle.

“like a medieval rack?! like in the inquisition!?!”, Kyle seemed disturbingly excited by the idea.

“yes”, Mark answered, “exactly like that”

Kyle beamed and turned to look at me, “let’s stretch him!!”

* * * * *

at the sound of those dreaded words i suddenly lost my last vestiges of composure and i was immediately flooded with the most intense feelings of panic and hopelessness i’d experienced so far. i had been too long bound in this uncomfortable position and the endless tortures had finally pushed me to my breaking point. my body ached, my mind was frazzled with the effort it took to deal mentally with the torments i’d been subjected to for the last eight hours. the threat of even more torture was the straw that broke the camel’s back! at that moment i knew i had been broken and the floodgates were finally thrown wide open. i began to cry in earnest. loud sobs of pain, frustration, and humiliation racked my chest and poured out of my throat and through Mark’s sock, unabated. now, instead of a few tears streaming down my face, i cried rivers! i felt shame to appear so weak in the face of my two friends, but i couldn’t help it. the tears just came and came and i couldn’t stop them! i hung my head as i wept uncontrollably in utter desperation and watched droplet after salty droplet fall from my eyes down to splatter on my bare toes bound together on the floor directly beneath me.

Kyle seemed to be slightly worried at my response to his idea. he glanced over at Mark and then back at my shuddering, dejected form hanging in the doorway, “maybe we should see what he has to say?”

Mark shrugged his shoulders, “be my guest. but be warned, the boy has a filthy mouth today. it’s his own fault he’s gagged!”

Kyle then stepped up close to me, leaning in to whisper near my face, “all right buddy…i’m gonna take that disgusting gag out now. you’ll watch your mouth, be a good boy? right?”

i nodded weakly. trying to blink back the streaming tears. as he reached behind my head to untie the gag, i literally bit my tongue to keep from spewing curses at them both. Mark’s dirty sweatsock was again pulled out of my mouth, and then he removed the stinking one covering my nose. fresh, clean air suddenly filled my lungs replacing the smell of Mark’s feet and refreshing me just a little. Kyle held the sock to his nose and made a terrible face, “OH GOD! Mark! that’s fucking horrible!!” and he threw Mark’s sock at him in the direction of the couch on which he still lounged.

Mark just laughed and tossed it aside.

i remained silent, afraid anything i might say would perhaps rub one of them the wrong way and i’d end up paying for it. i had been broken down completely. without even being instructed to, i had decided the best tact would be to speak only when spoken to. i realized then that i had effectively been turned into their slave. i was ashamed to have given in so completely, but the fear of being punished was stronger. i simply waited. praying silently that i would be granted mercy for being so cooperative.

“are you okay, buddy?”, i heard him ask.

“no, Kyle”, i managed to choke out in an even, moderated tone, trying to hide even the hint of anger in my voice, “i don’t think i can take anymore of this.” i heard Mark chuckle at that from somewhere behind Kyle. Kyle turned around to glance at Mark and when he turned back to me i was horrified to see that the slight evidence of concern that had been on his face had been replaced by that sadistic smirk again. i bit my tongue and again prayed silently that they would decide i’d had enough.

“awww…but i haven’t even gotten to see you stretched yet”, he whined as if me suggesting that my torture end now was unfair to HIM! then he turned again to Mark, “what do YOU think grand inquisitor?”

“your call, Kyle…do with him what you will”, he answered with another cruel chuckle.

Kyle stared intently into my face then and said, “let’s stretch him! i’ve always thought “The Rack” was the coolest torture! never seen it done in person, though!”. i fought my brain to keep from cursing, protesting, begging…and won. i remained silent as we stared at each other. my tears had stopped somewhere along the way, but now i felt them welling up in my eyes again even as that wicked smile on his lips grew. he was so handsome and boyish then. that broad smile and even, white teeth. and that mischievous, even sadistic, expression turned me on, keeping my cock rock hard, even as it frightened the living hell out of me!

i resolved with myself that there was nothing i could do. they had no mercy for me at all! there was nothing i could say that would stop them. i realized then that the only thing i could do was make it worse on myself, so i remained stoically silent. Mark and Kyle went to work immediately, untying my ankles and reattaching the leather cuffs to the ropes at the corners of the frame. within minutes i was again tied in a spread-eagled position waiting to be slowly pulled apart for Kyle’s curiosity and amusement.

this time was not as gradual as the initial stretching. Kyle was anxious to see how i’d hold up under this form of torture since he’d missed it the first time. once i had been re-tied into the spread-eagle position, they wasted no time. Mark began turning the crank that stretched my arms while Kyle bent down to turn the crank that stretched my legs. notch after notch after notch was applied to my aching form. i had no time to adjust to the pain before it would be increased. eventually it felt as if every muscle in my body was on fire, stretched as far as they possibly could be. at one point i felt that, if the cranks were turned even one notch more, my limbs would surely be torn from their sockets. i was almost blind with pain and i could feel the tears flowing freely from my clenched eyes.

i could tell that i was groaning loudly, but managed to keep my insults and angry words to myself. my lesson had been learned. i would simply have to grin and bear it no matter what they did to me, or risk making it worse on myself. my body felt as if it had surely reached it’s literal breaking point and yet they both continued turning the cranks three more notches. by the time they decided to stop, i was stretched quite a bit further than the first time. even shallow breathing caused pain in my over-stretched limbs. i was physically unable to keep from whimpering in pain. and i could not move AT ALL!! fluids oozed from my tortured body: tears, sweat, pre-cum…i was a mess!

they stepped back then to survey their work and Kyle shook his head as he studied my form and the severe tension it was under. “GODDAMN!”, he said in an amused whisper, “THAT has GOT to hurt!!”. i said nothing.

Mark chuckled again, “NOW try tickling him!!”

“NO!!” i screamed without thinking.

they both glared at me with an intimated warning then, and i immediately choked out an apology and looked down at the floor, composing myself in stoic silence once again.

“yes…, let’s!””, came Kyle’s response in a mock-genteel voice followed by sadistic giggling.

for the next two hours i was tickled constantly, each of them taking 15 minute shifts so that i never got a break the entire time, but they were allowed time to rest up during the torture so that the intensity of their tickling never flagged. they used fingertips, feathers, toothpicks, forks, ball-point pens, ice cubes and hairbrushes to make sure that i was kept in a swirling vortex of tortured laughter that seemed, at times, as if it would never end. i kept futiley hoping that i would eventually become desensitized to the sensations, but they made sure that never happened by methodically alternating from one spot to another making sure no spot ever became tickled raw. my ribs, then pits, then hips, feet, thighs, cock, balls, ass…on and on and on endlessly. and then suddenly the two hours were over. they stopped and i immediately went limp, letting the tight bonds completely support me. my body was drenched with sweat, my face wet with tears, my throat sore and dry from forced laughter, and i couldn’t catch my breath. “pleeeeeeeeeeeze…..?”, i managed to wheeze out from between my dry, cracked lips.

“please what?”, i heard one of them ask, but was too disoriented to place which.

i was going to ask again to be released, but thought better of such a big request and decided that maybe i should just ask for something more simple at first. at this point i couldn’t risk anymore punishment. “please”, i whispered again, “please may i have something to drink? my mouth is as dry as sand.”

“sure you can, poor guy”, this time i recognized Mark’s mocking tone, “be right back”. he disappeared into the kitchen as Kyle collapsed onto the couch, laughing to himself.

when Mark returned, i had fully come back to my senses and saw that he carried a six pack of cold beers. my mouth began to salivate at the sight of them as i realized how thirsty i had become. Mark was smiling as he walked towards me with a beer, a smile that i should have been leery about. once he stood next to me in the doorway he twisted the cap off the bottle and, without upending the beer, he brushed the cold mouth of the glass bottle against my lips and i moaned with the desire to feel the chilled liquid inside rushing down my parched throat.

“you want this?” he asked as he continued to tease my eager lips with the bottle and i nodded emphatically. yes yes yes!!

“well then beg me for it!” he demanded with an evil grin without ever taking the beer away from my waiting mouth. my heart sank as i realized that i may not even be granted this small relief. it seemed to me that Mark’s ideas for torturing me were limitless, and i began to feel truly maddened by my growing thirst.

“PLEASE!?!”, i screamed in utter desperation.

“please what…?” came the cruel response.

“PLEASE…sir?”

“ah, yes, the magic word”, he was really getting into this now, “say it again!”

“SIR!?”, i screamed in the most pitiful voice i could muster from within my shame, “sir, please!?”

“all right, tuff-guy, you can have the beer…”, he finally consented, “but you must drink the entire thing without spilling a drop or, as tired as we are, we will both tickle you simultaneously as punishment. understand?” i heard Kyle laughing at that and i nodded yes. then he tilted the beer, upending it into my dry mouth.

the relief i felt at that point was inexplicable. it felt like liquid, ice-cold gold bathing my throat. one of the most delicious things i’d ever tasted! i had no trouble downing the entire beer. but then as i licked the residue from my relieved lips i saw that Mark had gotten another beer from the pack and was twisting it’s cap off.

“open wide..” he sang as he upended that beer into my lips as well. still somewhat thirsty i didn’t have much trouble finishing that one either. but on completion, i saw that he was opening yet another. at this point i began to worry.

the third beer i had to choke down and by it’s end i was beginning to feel somewhat intoxicated. three beers in fifteen minutes is a little faster than i ever choose to drink. then he opened the fourth!

i just barely was able to finish that one and afterwards he immediately picked up the fifth.

“no…mark…please…no more!”

“but you said you were thirsty!” he feigned confusion.

“i was, but i’m not anymore. thank you.”

“but i brought all these beers from the kitchen for you! you don’t want me to have to go all the way back into the kitchen to put them away, do you? there are only two more…you can finish them, tuff-guy!”

“but…but…”, i searched frantically for some sort of excuse. i just couldn’t drink anymore right then. i was starting to feel drunk and i suddenly realized i needed to pee, “…but…you guys!…you guys should each have one, too! i’ve had FOUR so far! you guys take the others!”

“but i don’t want one. i got them for you!”, he looked over at Kyle sprawled across the couch, “how bout you Kyle? you want these beers?”

Kyle shook his spikey blonde head and giggled, “nah!… he can have ’em all. he’s the THIRSTY one!!”

“well, you heard him, you lucky boy!”, Mark teased, “they’re all yours!!”. and before i could respond, the next beer had been tilted into my mouth and i struggled to swallow every drop as i listened to them both laughing at my expense. it seemed to take forever, but i finally got it all down. my vision was blurred now, and my bladder felt extremely full, the pressure becoming acutely uncomfortable. then Mark was opening the sixth and final beer.

“please?” i whispered.

he just ignored me though, “open up now boy!”. and i did, against every fiber of my will, i opened my mouth and he poured it down my throat as i just barely managed not to spill any. then it was over. the drinking was finally over and i could feel my bladder filling even more painfully with the excess fluid. the urge to piss had become urgent! i looked at the clock only to find that just eleven hours of my sentence had passed. i prayed he wasn’t planning on making me wait the remaining fourteen before i could pee! i knew i wouldn’t make it!

“MARK…please? i’ve suffered everything you wanted me to. i’ve drunk six beers in a half hour for you. and now i’ve gotta piss. please please please untie me and let me piss!?”, i took a chance and resorted to begging again.

“of course, you poor boy”, the words were so insincere i flinched at them, “i wouldn’t dream of denying you the right to go to the restroom. that would be INHUMAN! i’m not a MONSTER, for god’s sake! we’ll let you down to pee as soon as we get back.” a cold smile.

“GET BACK?! GET BACK?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING!?!”

“ah, ah, ah…”, Mark wagged his finger accusingly in front of my face, “language, language!”

i apologized automatically and whispered as politely as possible, “please, please don’t do this to me, Mark.”

Mark now took a more severe tone with me, “look! it’s YOUR fault, you big hog! you’re the pig that drank all the beer! we’re just gonna go out to the bar and grab a couple brews. now…when we get back, you can pee!! understand!? or should we see if we can literally TICKLE the piss outta you!!?” that threat resounded in me physically as if an electric jolt had been shot through my system. god please, i prayed silently, ANYTHING but that!

there was no point in trying to argue his logic since this was obviously something he’d planned beforehand. it was simply another in a long line of tortures he’d prepared especially for me and i knew there was no way to talk him out of it. he re-gagged me then, explaining that he wouldn’t want the neighbors to get unduly concerned about anything they might hear coming from the house. as a final touch that illustrates how sadistically diabolical he is, he walked over to the mini-bar in the den and turned the faucet on so that a small trickle of water began to spill continuously into the sink. the sound immediately caused my need to piss to magnify itself about three times worse. the pain in my bladder was now on it’s way to being fucking intolerable! i had to squeeze all of the interior muscles of my crotch to keep the pee from leaking out. i badly needed to bring my legs together to help block the impending and involuntary flow of urine, but they were kept stretched painfully wide by the system of ropes and winches Mark had devised for me. it had only been eleven hours, but i couldn’t seem to remember a time i was free of these various miseries.

he patted my tear-stained cheek and whispered with a smile, “aren’t you sorry you ever thought you could beat me at chess?”, before turning to leave. there was nothing i could do as i watched them go without giving me the slightest idea when they might return. Kyle followed Mark out the front door, turning to wave at me and giggle. as the door closed and locked behind them i heard Kyle laughing, “Damn! Man!, this is so, SO… CRUEL!!”

and then i was alone.

alone with my raging hard-on jutting helplessly out of my shorts. a turgid erection that i had no hope of satisfying, bound the way i was. alone with my full bladder demanding that i empty it immediately. all alone with my body cruelly and painfully stretched tighter than tight across this doorway in my “friend’s” house. i could do nothing but stand there in silence, gagged, and listen to the clock s-l-o-w-l-y ticking the seconds by, and the tormenting sound of the water trickling into the sink. i longed to at least plug up my ears to block out the tantalizing sound, but was incapable of even that.

for two more long hours i endured the exquisite torture of being kept stretched-out so tight standing on the very tips of my toes, needing to pee so bad, and wanting more than anything to come. a number of times i came very close to letting myself pee and luxuriating in the sweet, sweet relief i knew that it would bring, but the thought of being discovered by Mark and Kyle, soaked from the waist down in my own urine was too embarrassing a thought to contemplate and i stopped myself with a mustering of will i had no idea i was capable of. finally, just as i was about to give up to the ultimate humiliation of pissing myself, i heard the lock on the front door turn and Kyle walked in, beaming at me.

in his hand he held what appeared to be a leash or lead of some kind that trailed out the front door behind him. “i’ve got a surprise for you!”, he sang in an irritating sing-song voice. jerking hard on the lead he pulled Mark through the door into the house. his wrists appeared to be tied behind his back and the leash was attached to a belt loop at the front of his jeans. Mark’s head hung low as he allowed himself to be pulled indoors. Kyle led Mark up to where i still hung painfully in the doorway, “wanna trade places?”, i heard him ask.

i mumbled excitedly into the gag but couldn’t form intelligible words. could this be true? was my ordeal finally over?! or was this just another cruel game they were playing with me?

laughing, Kyle reached up and removed the gag from my mouth as Mark looked on in silence and what seemed to be horror at what lay in store for him. as soon as i was free again of the filthy gag, i was eager to find out what was going on, “what…what is this?”

Kyle explained to me that at the bar Mark had challenged him to a game of pool. after much cocky boasting on both their parts, eventually a wager had been suggested. the loser had to take my place in hell as soon as they arrived home, unless i wished to remain their victim. and then he asked me again, “wanna’ trade places with Mark?”

“DO I !?! OF FUCKING COURSE I DO!! LET ME DOWN NOW!!”

‘there’s just one condition…”, Kyle said then, and i felt my heart sink…what now?! some other devious torture to endure?!, “…to show your appreciation you must kiss my feet, lick them, for as long as i like!” and he giggled mischievously.

is THAT all?, i thought. jeeze! he really has no idea how many times i’d been completely distracted by him removing his shoes and hanging out barefoot around me! his feet were beautiful, big and wide with tender smooth-looking soles, and for as long as i could remember i’d dreamed of kissing them, tasting them, finding out what they smelled like! hot damn!! this was even better than i’d hoped! “YES YES, Kyle! i will! i will! just please let me go right now! i have to pee so BAD!!!”

he laughed at me one last time and then loosened the winches holding me tight and removed the leather cuffs from my wrists and ankles. i shot off like a dart then, making a bee line for the bathroom. i had never experienced a greater relief from peeing in my entire life. a golden glow suddenly enveloped my body. all my aching muscles relaxed, my bladder finally at ease. i reveled for a few moments in the delicious feeling of release. my only torture then being my unsatisfied cock, still as hard as ever.

when i re-entered the den, a beautiful sight awaited me. Kyle had fixed Mark into place just as i had been earlier. we gagged him with my socks and gleefully went to work on him together. we stretched him, teased him, tickled him half out of his mind, made him send electric shocks through his own cock and balls…and all the while, every time he moaned or groaned in his misery, i reminded him of how much fun he thought this was when it was the other way around, when it was me enduring what he dished out! after a couple hours we decided to let him rest up a bit and Kyle flopped over onto the couch.

he motioned for me to come over and then wriggled his feet about, “time for you to pay up!” . i eagerly knelt at his feet and unlaced his sneakers. i slipped them off and held the warm solid feet in my hands a moment, exploring the heat and dampness of his white socks. next, i peeled the socks from his sweaty feet. they were moist and tender and smelled strongly of sweat, rubber and leather. my cock was harder than ever and i could see, through his jeans, that Kyle’s was, too. i then laid down on the floor, on my back in front of the couch, and he placed the sweaty, plump soles of both his perfect feet directly onto my face. i immediately began to kiss and lick his deliciously salty soles, sucking each of his ten toes entirely into my mouth individually and massaging them with my wet tongue and lips. i saw him reach into his jeans to stroke his cock and i did the same. the feel of my hand finally closing around the rigid shaft of my tormented cock after being denied it so long almost made me come immediately, but i held off a few minutes to bask in that incredibly erotic moment. i turned my head to the side so that i could see Mark stretched and suffering on his toes in the doorway. the sight of him enduring his own torture, the thought of all the things i’d do to him during the course of the rest of the evening, and the delicious taste and smell of Kyle’s beautiful feet in my face all combined in a moment of pure erotic pleasure for me…and i stroked my cock once…twice…three times…and then i came harder than i ever had before. the semen felt like molten lead as it shot out of my cock like a creamy white bullet of pure ecstasy…

THE END



Video – Still Tied to the Chair

$
0
0

The Prisoner wore a shiny nylon McKenzie hoodie, football socks and boots and a pair of slightly too tight shiny blue nylon football shorts.

His wrists were tied behind his back and his arms were roped to his upper body. He was placed on a wooden chair and his ankles, knees and thighs were tied to the chair legs.

A large ballgag and a blacked out gas mask were used to very effectively silence the Prisoner as can be seen in the video.

He was then left to struggle and ‘enjoy’ his captivity.

The full 13 minutes video can be seen at http://www.xtube.com/watch.php?v=EYsol-G707-

vlcsnap-2015-10-28-23h05m01s778

Watch the full 13 minute video at http://www.xtube.com/watch.php?v=EYsol-G707-


Story –‘Tom Daley – Kidnap Victim’

$
0
0

tumblr_nrbksanIwv1u6oc48o1_500

Tom Daley hung in chains. He was naked apart from the tight, blue speedo which he had worn whilst he had been training at his pool.

His wrists were shackled and held somewhere high above his head. His arms were pulled painfully tight. His shoulder muscles complained as they supported the weight of his entire body. His feet dangled inches above a cold, concrete, dirty floor.

He could barely make a sound. Another of his training speedos had been stuffed in his mouth and was held in place with several layers of duct tape which had been wrapped several times over his mouth and around his head.

A camera flash repeatedly dazzled him as the harsh, unblinking eye of a camera repeatedly took his photo.

Somewhere behind the camera, Tom could just about make out the figure of one of his kidnappers. He was muscular and wore tight black leather jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket…he also wore a black gas mask. His face was hidden other than the dim suggestion of eyes seen through the circular eye pieces…

Tom had been taken from his training pool. It was late at night and he had just completed the last of his training dives. He had been walking back to the changing room. The water dripped from his tight, well trained body. His wet blue speedo clung to him like a second skin. No-one else seemed to be around. Other that Tom, the pool seemed deserted.

He had walked past a fire door when it suddenly burst open and banged loudly against the changing room wall. Three leather clad kidnappers rushed through the door, grabbed his arms and pulled him into his changing cubicle. A leather gloved hand locked itself over his mouth preventing him from making a sound. Strong hands pulled his wrists behind his back. Tom could not see who they were. They wore black rubber gas masks. Tom tried to kick out but a pair of arms wrapped itself around his legs and held them firmly.

One of the kidnappers reached into Tom’s kit bag and pulled out another of his speedos. The gloved hand grabbed his chin and pulled whilst also pinching his nose closed. His mouth was forced open. The speedo was quickly stuffed into his mouth. Tom tried to force it back out with his tongue but the leather glove once again locked itself over his mouth. Tom heard duct tape being pulled off a roll.

As Tom’s athletic body was held firm, duct tape was placed over his mouth and then wrapped repeatedly around the back of his head and back over his mouth. Each layer of duct tape pulled tighter. The speedo was held firmly in place in Tom’s mouth. He was silenced.

Tom tried to wriggle his body free as he felt more duct tape being wrapped around his restrained wrists which nestled in the small of his back..

Several seconds later, his ankles were taped together.

Tom had been subdued and restrained in less than a minute. He felt a wave of panic rush through his body.

One of his leather clad captors opened the changing cubicle door and took a quick look out. He nodded at the other two. Tom was thrown over the shoulder of one of the kidnappers and quickly carried out through the fire door into the night time and then into the back of a white, unmarked van parked close by in the shadows. All of the kidnappers bundled into the van and pulled the doors shut behind them.

It was dark in the back of the van and Tom struggled to see what was happening. He was dumped unceremoniously on the metal floor and before he had time to gather himself, further duct tape was wrapped below and then above his knees firmly holding his legs together.

Tom was then made to sit up and tape was wrapped around his arms and upper body pinning his already restrained arms to his sides.

Once restrained, his still wet body dropped back to the cold metal floor of the van.

Tom quickly noticed he was lying next to a long dark green metallic chest. It was approximately six feet long and a foot and a half wide. With a mounting sense of panic, Tom saw one of his abductors lean forward and open the top of the chest. Two of his captors then picked up Tom and and lowered him into the chest so he was lying on his front.

Tom lay face down and full length in the metal chest. There was no inner lining. His body shivered as his naked wet skin came into contact with the metal.

The chest was just wide enough for him. Tom turned his head on its side so his face was was not crushed against the metal base. He felt his bare feet come into contact with the bottom of his metal prison.

Tom felt a heavy strap being fastened around his ankles. It was pulled tight and he felt his ankles pulled towards the bottom of the chest. He could not move them. He felt another strap being locked around his waist and again connected to a point somewhere on the inside of the chest. Tom then saw hands reach down towards his head and fasten a final strap tightly around his neck. The other end of the strap was then pulled through an anchor point at the top of the chest and padlocked in place. Tom could believe what was happening to him.

Tom was then plunged into darkness as the lid of the chest was closed above him with with a loud metallic crash. The rattle of metal and several clicks suggested to Tom that his small metal prison has been locked from the outside.

Tom felt a surge of panic and then terror.  He screamed and screamed but the speedo stuffed into his mouth and the layers of duct tape kept him silenced.

He desperately tried to jerk his body free from his restraints but the straps fixed to his body held strong.

Tom yelled again and again but little sound escaped from his gagged mouth.

There was a sudden vibration and Tom realised that the engine in the van had been started. He felt movement. The van was driving away from the pool.

Only minutes before, Tom had been training in his diving pool. But now, his still wet, speedo clad body lay firmly bound and secured in a pitch black metal prison.

Tom was being kidnapped…


Story –‘Tom Daley – Kidnap Victim’ Part 2

$
0
0

tdchnbw

Tom Daley lay face down in his cold metal coffin like prison. He had given up struggling. There was no possibility of escape. Duct tape kept his limbs securely bound and straps locked him to the inside of the casket in which he was being kept prisoner. He wore only his tight blue training speedo.

Tom could move his head from side to side but that was the only movement which his restraints would allow.

Tom lay still and concentrated on breathing through his nostrils. He was unable to take in air through his mouth. It had been stuffed with one of his speedos and the layers of duct which had been wrapped around his head held it firmly in place. The speedo tasted of chlorine.  It had been taken straight from his training bag and had not been washed.

His balls ached. Because he was lying full length and face down on the hard metal base of his tiny prison, they were being crushed between his body and the firm, cold surface. He wriggled as best as he could to achieve some sort of comfort but his restraints held him tight.

Tom waited. He was scared. The urge to panic remained but he worked hard to control it. There was no point in struggling. He focussed on conserving his energy. If the chance to escape came he needed to be ready.

He was unaware of how much time had passed. Thirty minutes? An hour?

The van in which he was being transported had driven steadily for a while. However, it now felt like it had gone off road. It had slowed and it felt like the road had become very bumpy.

Tom shivered inside his metal prison. Moisture from his skin had transferred itself to the inside of his casket. His hair was still moist. His tight speedo was still damp and clung to the contours of his body. Tom normally felt very comfortable wearing his tight little speedos but right now he felt naked and exposed.

The van slowed and came to a halt. Tom waited in the silence. His heart raced.

He heard the sound of the van doors being opened. Seconds passed.

The sound of heavy footsteps inside the van startled Tom. He felt the metal casket being lifted. He was being moved.

Tom’s coffin like prison tilted as he felt himself being carried out of the van. Several minutes passed and Tom strained to hear any kind of clues as to where he was being taken. He heard only silence. It suddenly occurred to Tom that not once had he heard one of his captors speak.

vlcsnap-2015-11-14-17h27m10s678

With a loud crash, Tom’s container was suddenly dropped on the ground. There was a rattle of locks and the lid was opened. Tom tried to twist his head to see where he was. He didn’t have long to wait.

The metal container was tipped onto its side and Tom fell out onto a cold, concrete floor. He managed to stop himself rolling onto his front. He lay on his sides, his bound hands nestling in the small of his back and his restrained legs bent and pulled up towards his body almost in a foetal position.

Tom’s eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom. Wherever he was, there was very little light. The floor upon which he lay was grimy and black. It smelt of engine oil.

Tom could see dirty brick walls, old cupboards and several grimy work surfaces. It looked like he was in some kind of old, abandoned car workshop. There didn’t appear to be any windows only a large set of doors in one wall and a single door in the opposite wall.

The roof above him appeared to be quite high. Metal beams held the corrugated metal roof in place and chains hung from several pulley systems.

Tom suddenly became aware of movement behind and and rough gloved hands suddenly pushed him back onto his front. He ‘mmmmmppphhhh’ed into his duct tape gag in protest.

Tom felt his ankles being grabbed. With a sense of relief, he realised the duct tape was being cut from his ankles and knees.

His relief didn’t last long. Tom felt cold metal on his legs. Wide, heavy iron shackles were being bolted onto his ankles. They were chaining him up.

Tom began to struggle but hands held him firmly down on the oily concrete. He tried to yell but the speedo taped in his mouth prevented him from making much noise.

The duct tape was cut from his wrists and Tom felt shackles being locked around them.

The duct tape around his upper arms was cut and pulled from his back. Strong hands flipped him over and removed the rest of the tape from his chest. It pulled cruelly on his skin and made him yelp into his gag.

The three leather clad captors picked up Tom and stood him on his feet. They pulled his wrists in front of his body and padlocked a short heavy chain – perhaps three links – between his shackled wrists. They then attached a similar short chain to each of his ankle shackles.

Tom struggled desperately but a quick punch to his balls from one of his captors made him double over with pain.

One of his kidnappers walked over to a wall where a small panel of buttons was fixed to the wall. He pressed a button. With a rattle, a chain above Tom began to lower until the end of it was level with Tom’s chest.

Tom manacled wrists were grabbed and padlocked to the dangling chain.

With horror, Tom realised what was going to happen.

Hands which had been holding him firm suddenly released him. The second and third captor walked away from him and left him standing unsteadily. They stopped and turned to face him.

Tom stood up straight. He wore only a tight blue speedo. Oil and grime had appeared on parts of his body. His wrists and ankles were chained. He was gagged.

Tom heard the pulley system once again start to clank and whir. He looked over to the wall where a leather clad kidnapper was operating the control. Tom desperately shook and head and tried to scream out.

The chain started to pull Tom’s wrists up towards the roof. Higher and higher his shackled wrists went until they were directly above his head.

The manacles dug painfully into Tom’s wrists as his arms began to bear the weight of his body. His wrists were pulled ever higher. Tom’s shackled feet began to lift and he had to stand on tip-toe to maintain contact with the grimy floor. And then the chain stopped. The pulley system had been switched off.

Tom looked over at his captor who stood by the panel. He still had his hand on the control. Once again, he pressed the button.

Tom screamed as his whole body was lifted off the floor. Tom’s shoulders burned. His wrist manacles felt like they were ripping into his flesh.

Once more, the mechanism stopped and Tom was left dangling helplessly from his chains.

A camera started to flash. They were taking photos of him. They recorded video footage of him hanging in his bondage.

And then, when Tom felt like he couldn’t bear the pain any more. They lowered him back down onto the ground.

They released him from the hanging chain and carried him through a door into a much smaller room. It was perhaps around three metres square. A single dim light bulb struggled to illuminate the gloom. There were small dirty windows high up along one side of the room. Metal bars ran along the length of the windows.

In the corner of the room there was a high back metal chair with a collection of chains attached.

On one wall there were four anchor metal anchor points. A couple of links of chain hung from each point.

The kidnappers pushed Tom up against the wall. His wrists shackles were connected to the points above and out to the side of his head. His legs were spread and his ankle manacles were also locked to the anchor points.

Tom was now chained spreadeagle to the wall, his firm, muscled athletic body on display.

His captors walked out of the room and closed the door behind them. Tom heard it being locked.

Tom slumped but his chains held him firmly against the wall.

His shoulders and arms still burned from their previous hanging torture.

Tom was alone, naked apart from his tight blue speedo…and Tom was in chains…a prisoner…locked in metal bondage…with no hope of escape.


‘Prisoner’ Videos HD

‘Prisoner’ Videos HD Part 2

Video –‘Soccer Kit Spreadeagle’

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 7 – Soccer Spreadeagle from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

This would be soccer kit wearing escapologist ‘The Prisoner’ was stretched out like an X and chained in a tight standing spreadeagle. If he could escape from this particular challenge then he would be allowed to attend soccer training as normal ;-) A ballgag was used to silence him and firstly a tight rubber hood followed by a gas mask with blacked out eyes were used to provide partial sensory deprivation. ‘The Prisoner’ was then left to try and free himself from his captivity. IMPORTANT: This video is for entertainment. The subject of this video went into this situation willingly.

Blue Spread 02 Blue Spread 03 Blue Spread 07 Blue Spread 05

Video –‘Rubber Spreadeagle’

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 8 – Rubber Spreadeagle from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

This would be escapologist ‘The Prisoner’ allowed himself to be stretched out like an X and chained in a tight standing spreadeagle whilst wearing only a skintight rubber t-shirt and skintight rubber shorts. A ballgag with head harness was used to prevent communication and a skintight rubber hood was used to provide partial sensory deprivation and make his escape attempt more difficult. ‘The Prisoner’ was then left to try and free himself from his captivity. IMPORTANT: This video is for entertainment. The subject of this video went into this situation willingly.



Video –‘Chair Tied, Cuffed, Gagged and Hooded’

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 9 – Chair Tied, Cuffed, Gagged and Hooded from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

In this re-edited and upscaled video footage of an escape challenge, the would be escapologist ‘The Prisoner’ was made to wear a ballgag to prevent communication and a tight rubber hood was placed over his head to add a degree of sensory deprivation and to add further difficulties to this escape challenge. The rubber hood is especially effective as the amount of air which can pass in and out of the small nostril holes is restricted and excessive breathing caused by anxious struggling can cause the hood to cling to the prisoner’s head and cause a vacuum. A tight rubber hood is to be recommended if a prisoner/victim is to be kept truly under control. For this extended escape challenge, the prisoner was placed in a large black office chair and his wrists were initially handcuffed in front of him but this was soon changed and his wrists were securely recuffed directly behind his back. His ankles were tightly roped together and then pulled under the chair and attached to the base. His thighs and knees were then roped to the arm rests. His knees were also roped to each other as well as to the chair. This meant that the prisoner had no leg movement whatsoever. Ropes were attached to the arm rests and then passed in front of and behind the prisoner’s body as well as being tied around his waist. His arms were then tightly roped to his upper body. With his handcuffed wrists immediately behind his back the prisoner was unable to rest back into the chair. This position proved to be uncomfortable for the prisoner and so, after a period of struggling the prisoner’s upper body ropes were removed and his wrists were recuffed behind the chair. His upper body was then roped securely to the back rest. It is in this position that the prisoner spent most of his time. After a period of extensive struggling, it became clear that the prisoner could not escape and so the majority of the prisoner’s body ropes were removed leaving him secured to the chair by his ankles ropes and his handcuffs. A length of chain was padlocked to his cuffs and then attached to the base of the chair behind him to prevent him from trying to sit or stand up.


Escape Challenge 10 – Bed Bound

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 10 – Bed Bound from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

In this older video footage, the would be escapologist ‘The Prisoner’ challenges himself to answer the question many of us have asked ourselves…is it possible to sleep whilst tied up hand and foot, gagged and hooded? For this challenge, the prisoner’s wrists were tightly roped behind his back and he was silenced with a ballgag. A tight zip-up rubber hood was placed over his head to create a level of sensory deprivation. The prisoner’s legs were roped tightly at his ankles, knees and lower thighs. His arms were roped to his upper body. The prisoner was then placed on a bed. After a short period of time, a loose hogtie was added to make this period of captivity more challenging.


Escape Challenge 12 – Someone At The Door

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 12 – Someone At The Door from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

Soccer training was cancelled due to bad weather and so the failed escapologist was made to face another escape challenge wearing his shiny nylon kit.
For this escape challenge, the prisoner would be wearing a McKenzie nylon training top, shiny nylon soccer shorts (too small) plus soccer socks, pads and boots.
The would be escapologist was made to wear a ballgag to prevent communication and a tight rubber hood was placed over his head to add a degree of sensory deprivation and to add further difficulties to this escape challenge.
A tight rubber hood and a large ballgag are to be recommended if a prisoner/victim is to be kept truly under control – much more effective and intimidating for the prisoner than a piece of cloth or duct tape over the eyes and mouth.
For this extended escape challenge, the prisoner was placed up against a door and his wrists were roped above his head. His legs were pulled apart and his knees were roped to either side of the door placing the prisoner in a stress position in which he could not straighten his legs. Further ropes were tied over either side of the prisoner’s crotch and between his legs to prevent excessive struggling.
The prisoner was then left to struggle and try to escape from his captivity.


Guys Who Need To Be Tied Up And Gagged – Part 84 (Jack Grealish Special)

$
0
0

Many people would like to see England Under 21s and Aston Villa soccer star Jack Grealish tightly restrained and gagged simply because he likes to wear his soccer socks low and his flimsy soccer shorts a little too high and tight fitting. Here’s the evidence…

…the new Nike England strip is much tighter fitting than it used to be and clearly shows of Jack’s footballer legs and…er…his ample…bulge…

Guys 84aGuys 84b

…the shorts from the Aston Villa strip have no inner lining and, once again, reveal some of Jack’s most famous features…

Guys 84c

….but Jack’s not shy about showing off his assets…

Guys 84d

…in fact, quite the contrary…

Guys 84e

…here’s the reason why…he pulls his shorts up high and doubles up the waist band…he likes to show of those muscular legs…and why shouldn’t he?

Guys 84f

Here’s another example of his famous package!

Guys 84g

And another…

Guys 84h

…and this part of his anatomy also has its fans!

Guys 84i

Here’s a shot of Jack in action!

Guys 84j

And so, Jack Grealish definitely needs to be kidnapped…and gagged!

Guys 84kGuys 84l

He should be taken to an unknown location and tied up with duct tape…

Guys 84m

Jack would definitely look good stretched out and tied in a spreadeagle…

Guys 84nGuys 84o

…a spreadeagle, of course, would clearly expose his famous assets…

Guys 84p

…perhaps he could be restrained in a cage…

Guys 84q

…or on a cage…

Guys 84r

…the shiny German shorts certainly don’t leave much to the imagination, Jack would probably like that…

Guys 84s

…maybe Jack could be handcuffed and hung upside down for all to see…

Guys 84tGuys 84uGuys 84v

…or perhaps he’d enjoy a good tight chair tie…

Guys 84w

…with a bit of breath control to keep his lungs in good working order…

EmoBCSMSlave by GayBreathControl.com and EmoBondage.com

…but best of all, maybe Jack should be kept in a good tight hogtie…

Guys 84y

…everyone loves a strict hogtie!!

Guys 84z

How would you like to restrain Jack Grealish and his tight shorts?


Guys Who Need To Be Tied Up And Gagged – Part 85 (Short Shorts Special)

$
0
0

Some guys just know how to wear shorts…and some guys even know how to wear short shiny shorts, even though it’s not fashionably acceptable. They all should, of course, be tied up.

If you go on a train wearing short shorts like these, you absolutely shouldn’t be surprised if people take secret photos of you…

Guys 85a

…short white nylon shorts…watch out when they get wet…all could be revealed…

Guys 85b

This guy is already offering himself up to be tied. Quick…where are the ropes?

guys 85z

Selfie…is he trying to convince people he’s on holiday?

Guys 85c

Look at my balls…er…ball!

Guys 85d

He’s very comfortable wearing short shiny shorts…just a hint of bulge there??

Guys 85e

Shiny and black and just a little bit too small. Perfect!

Guys 85f

He definitely looks ‘perky’.

Guys 85g

Questions would definitely be asked if these tight white shorts were worn in public. Is he ready for a game of soccer? Is he going commando? Questions questions questions!!

Guys 85h

Tight and white. Pleasant. Is he running for the bus? Where will he put his small change?

Guys 85i

Tight, shiny and wet. Nice.

Guys 85j

Seriously…wear a bigger pair.

Guys 85k

For sheer arrogance and blatant exhibitionism…all of the above guys needs to be kidnapped and restrained. They should be tied up…

Guys 85l

…handcuffed…

Guys 85m

…gagged…

Guys 85nGuys 85o

…spreadeagles are always good for that sense of vulnerability…and for exposing the short shorts…

Guys 85pGuys 85q

…this guy looks like he’s regretting letting himself get tied up in tight denim shorts…

Guys 85r

…he’ll probably complain…and so the gag will have to go in…

Guys 85s

…with a tight latex hood for breath control as punishment…

Guys 85t

…or maybe try on a gas mask for size…

Guys 85u

…or a good solid metal hood…

Guys 85v

…and sensory deprivation…

Guys 85w

…guys in short shorts should be encased in rubber…

Guys 85x

…and then stored away…

Guys 85y

…that’ll teach them to look so good in short shiny shorts!!


Video – Escape Challenge 13 ‘Black and Silver’

$
0
0

Escape Challenge 13 – Black and Silver from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

For this escape challenge, the failed escapologist wore soccer training kit – black socks and trainers, shiny black nylon Umbro soccer shorts and a Adidas Chile 62 sports jackets.
He was seated on a chair, his wrists were shackled behind him and his arms were chained to his upper body. His ankles and thighs were chained to the legs of the chair.
He was initially placed in a full enclosure neoprene hood with large red ballgag but, when he became too noisy, a black gas mask was placed over his neoprene hood and ballgag to quieten him down and increase his feeling of sensory deprivation.
The sports gear clad prisoner was then left to enjoy his restraints and try to escape.

black01 black03 black04

Poor Tom Daley

$
0
0

Tom Daley’s kidnap was inevitable. His body had become a prized asset…and there were many people all around the planet ready to pay top dollar to have his toned and tight body captured and on permanent display…

TD03g

Click to see more of captured Tom…

tdchnbw tumblr_nrbksanIwv1u6oc48o1_500 tom-spreadeagle gag td straight tomb05 tomb04 tomb03 tomb02 tomb01 tumblr_motahhm5b01r6ist1o1_500 Tom spreadeagle

Handcuffed For The Day

Tight Rubber Hood

$
0
0

For the ultimate way to keep a kidnap victim or prisoner under control, a tight rubber hood MUST be used…

Hood (1)

Hood (2)

Hood (10)

Hood (3)

Hood (1) Hood (2) Hood (3) Hood (3) Hood (4) Hood (5) Hood (6) Hood (7) Hood (8) Hood (9) Hood (10) Hood (11) Hood (12) Hood (13) Hood (14) Hood (15) Hood (16) Hood (17)

Chains

$
0
0

Keep a prisoner in chains and metal and he’ll NEVER escape…

chains (1)

chains (1)

chains (1.5)

chains (2)

chains (4)

chains (5.5) chains (6) chains (6.5) IM000840.JPG chains (8) chains (9) chains (10) chains (11) chains (11.5) chains (12) chains (13) chains (14) chains (16) chains (17) chains (20) chains (21) chains (22) chains (23) chains (24) chains (25) chains (26) chains (27) chains (28) chains (29) chains (30) chains (31) chains (32)

7 days to go…

$
0
0

IMG_0563

#prisonerkidnapped

#realtimebondage

#chained


6 days to go…

$
0
0

WN

#prisonerkidnapped

#realtimebondage

#chained


Viewing all 301 articles
Browse latest View live