Tom was not normally self-conscious…but as he walked around the gym he was acutely aware of his near nakedness…of the cameras placed behind the mirrors at all parts of the room…of the eyes of Yohan Black, the powerful muscled black athlete who was chained to the wall behind him in a tight spreadeagle, which followed his every move.
Tom guessed that Yohan, like himself, was wondering exactly what would happen now…how exactly they were going to be training partners when one of them was securely restrained and unable to move.
Suddenly, bizarrely, everything clicked for Tom. His near nakedness, his skintight white speedo, the fact that there was a Jamaican athlete chained to the wall behind him: these things were instantly forgotten. Tom was in a gym…and he was going to train.
Tom walked over to the wall on which were pinned two sheets of A4 paper. At the top of the first sheet was printed the name ‘Tom Daley’. At the top of the second sheet was printed the name ‘Yohan Blake’. And below each name was a training schedule.
Tom studied the contents of his training schedule. The first activity was thirty minutes on the running machine. There was then an hour of weight exercises for his upper and lower body. There was then thirty minutes on the rowing machine and finally another thirty minutes on the running machine.
Tom’s mind had partially closed down. He was too tired. He had been captured, caged, chained, drugged…he had humiliated himself by becoming sexually aroused and then cumming whilst in a skintight speedo and painful bondage. He was learning things about the way his body and mind reacted to captivity which surprised him at best…and generated self-loathing at worst.
Tom had been captured, chained and humiliated…and a little part of his subconscious seemed to be enjoying it. More than enjoying it, in fact, it seemed to be creating a sexual tension in his body which he couldn’t control.
And now he was in a mirrored gym wearing a skintight white PVC speedo with a Jamaican athlete who was chained to the wall, gagged and masked. Tom stared at the sheet in front of him. His mind couldn’t quite cope with what was happening to him. Tom suddenly went into autopilot.
He walked over to the running machine. Tom stepped up onto the black rubber track. He looked at the panel in front of him.
Tom needed to program the running machine. He was used to doing this. It felt normal.
Tom started to press a sequence of buttons. He chose a steadily increasing incline with a variable speed and thirty minutes running time. He pressed go. The machine slowly whirred into life. Tom began to run. This was how all his gym sessions started. Tom felt comforted by the normality of what he was doing.
The running machine was placed directly in front of a mirrored wall. As Tom ran, he could see his reflection directly in front of him.
Tom admired his own body. Normally, he’d be wearing a t-shirt and shorts…but today, he was clad only in a skintight white PVC speedo which clung to his body and highlighted his cock and balls. And for some reason, that felt completely right.
Tom had always enjoyed wearing a speedo. Even when he was very young, he had always experienced a slight thrill in his loin when he pulled on a tight speedo. He hadn’t really understood, at the time, what that sensation was.
And now Tom was older, he experienced the same thrill when he walked out, wearing only a tight little speedo, in front of an audience of hundreds…thousands…even millions of people if his diving event was being televised. Tom enjoyed being near naked in front of all those people. He enjoyed the admiring glances his firm, muscular body drew from all the girls…and women…and boys…and men. It thrilled him. The first time he had pulled on a tight little speedo it had awakened something in him.
Tom ran. The machine quickened. Tom looked at his body. It was a perfect machine. His thighs pumped. His arms and hands pushed forwards left and right like finely tuned pistons. His shoulders and head remained steady. Tom was an athlete.
He stared directly into his own reflected eyes. All thought of captivity and bondage and punishment and torture were being suppressed. Tom was training.
He started to sweat. He was fit. Running wasn’t a problem for him. His heart pumped slowly and regularly. It was used to punishing work outs. But he started to sweat. A fine sheen of moisture appeared on his brow. His abdominal muscles began to shine and reflect the light in the room. His balls and dick became lubricated and started to slip and slide inside their tight white PVC prison.
Tom started to feel aroused. His dick started to grow in size. Tom suddenly remembered the rings of metal placed around his dick and balls. He remembered the pain of his drug induced arousal earlier in his captivity. And he needed to go piss.
Tom glanced down at the time on the running machine. He had been running for nineteen minutes. He needed a break. He stopped running and stepped off the machine.
Immediately, a piercing electronic alarm flooded the gym.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
The dull, neutral voice repeated itself constantly over the top of the repeating alarm.
Tom ignored it. He walked past Yohan Blakes’s chained body and headed towards the door leading to the toilet. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored walls. His taut, muscled body glistened beneath a thin patina of sweat. The small, skintight white PVC speedo clung to his body, highlighting his cock ringed penis and balls and his firm large butt. Tom always got a thrill whenever he saw himself wearing a tight speedo. And today, even though he was the subject of kidnap and harsh captivity and bondage, he felt the same thrill. If anything, the thrill was heightened as a result of the fact that the only thing he could wear was a tight white PVC speedo.
Tom opened the door and entered the toilet. He took a long refreshing piss which made the constant dull ache in his balls fade slightly. His penis looked red and was still slightly engorged…the result of the metal rings which were forced around his genitals.
In the background, the dull monotonous voice continued to speak.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
The electronic alarm continued to sound.
Tom finished relieving himself, placed his dick back into its tight white prison, flushed the toilet and exited the small cubicle. He passed through the doorway back into the gym.
Something had changed. Yohan Blake’s body was heaving and desperately pulling against his chains. His head was shaking violently backwards and forwards. His muscles were pulled taut and his veins stood out prominently from his black skin. Something was wrong.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Tom walked towards Blake and stood directly in front of him. Blake was in some considerable distress. His chest expanded and contracted as if he was taking in large amounts of breath.
Tom couldn’t help but glance down at Blake skintight black rubber shorts. Blake’s bulge was larger. His dick had extended and grown. Whatever was happening was causing Blake to get sexually aroused in a major way.
Tom looked up at Blake’s gas masked head. He looked through the eye pieces and directly into Blake’s eyes. They seemed to be pleading with him.
Blake’s chest continued to expand and contract…faster and faster. Tom could hear a desperate rasping and sucking coming from beneath Blake’s masked head.
Tom suddenly realised what was happening. Yohan Blake’s air supply had been cut off.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Tom reached up towards Blake’s mask. He placed one hand on the mask and another on the pipe leading from the mask directly into the wall. He would yank the pipe out allowing air to flow directly into Blake’s mask.
Blake’s whole body heaved and pulled against his metal restraints. Tom readied himself to give the pipe an enormous yank and pull it free from the gas mask.
There was suddenly an enormous explosion of sharp pain in Tom’s neck. Tom’s whole body spasmed and he fell to his knees. The shock collar…he’d forgotten about it. His captors and tormentors had had sent a bolt of electricity pulsing though his body. But why?
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Tom pulled himself to his feet. His chief concern right now was getting some life giving air into Blake’s lungs. Tom steadied himself and pulled himself to his feet. He staggered slightly but then looked upwards again towards Blake’s oxygen starved restrained body.
He reached up towards Blake’s mask and again placed his hand on the pipe connecting it to the wall.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Once again, there was a bolt of staggering sharp pain…stronger this time. Tom fell to his knees again. The electrical shock came again. He fell on his side.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Again, a bolt of electricity coursed through his body. Tom’s back arched. His legs straightened. He started to spasm. Another shock came…then another.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Tom’s body convulsed. Another shock came.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Blake’s body wrenched against its chain bondage. But now it was weakening. Yohan Blake was slowly suffocating.
Tom lay on the floor…paralysed by the relentless pulses of electricity which now came every few seconds.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
Tom looked up at Blake. Blake was going to die. Another explosion of electricity passed through Tom’s body. Tom was going to die. Why was this happening?
The electronic alarm continued to sound and filled Tom’s mind. His eyes closed and he saw stars against a black background. He was passing out.
‘The prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…the prisoner will recommence training…’
To be continued…
