Somehow it dawns on me. I’m awake. There isn’t much else making sense right now, but I know that I’m awake, conscious. This isn’t a dream. The next thing that dawns on me is my head, and particularly, me headache. It’s throbbing, like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Every beat of my heart feels like a mallet pounding away at the front of my skull. It’s almost enough to drown out the noise around me, which leads to the third realization–noise, of which there is very little. Calming down, working through the pounding sensation in my head, I listen, and aside from a dull hum, I hear nothing. Moving my eyes around, another realization–I’m blindfolded. The surprise leads me to jerk my head forward, only to be met by the sensation of a strong strap holding it down. I’m lying down. There’s no doubt about that. Not only is there a strap holding my head down to this stiffly-padded table, but other straps are holding down my chest, belly, biceps, forearms, wrists, thighs, above and below the knees, and my ankles. I can struggle, but there isn’t much play, nor am I able to extricate myself from this position. There’s something strapped over my nose and mouth. I’d know if it was a gas mask, but this isn’t one. Definitely a blindfold over my eyes, and some sort of breathing mask tightly enveloping my mouth and nose. Meanwhile, this headache.
Continue reading Nine Words
Over the next few weeks, the boys included Sir more and more in their regular play. Jeremy in particular returned several times, largely to be stored back in Sir’s awesome couch. Each time he returned, Sir upped the ante, making use of increasingly more secure chastity devices, thicker catsuits, larger, electro-equipped butt plugs, and even catheters. Sir also insisted that they increase Jeremy’s time spent stored, from the initial four hours, to six, to ten, to fourteen. Jeremy felt more and more comfortable around Sir, trusting his craft and skill, admiring the man for his kinky creations.
Jeremy would learn that many of the pieces of equipment in Sir’s workshop served the purpose of molding fiberglass, bending steel and thus creating many of the concealed storage units all over the house. He learned that his friends were also subject to these units, but as much as Jeremy asked, Sir never revealed where these pieces were, nor who of his friends had been using them. In his mind, Jeremy found the concept unbelievably hot — knowing that only Sir knew who used what, that as a symbolic act of objectification, the boys subject to these units would never know where the other units were, or who, if anyone, occupied them.
Continue reading O.E.T. – Part 2
Jeremy came to, for the umpteenth time. He had a tendency of falling asleep in bondage. On this occasion, he was securely bound in a rubber sleepsack. His head was under a layer of rubber, eyeless hood, with a layer of S10 gas mask overtop of that. The hood matched the catsuit he wore, a neck-entry job he had been slipping in and out of for play, and Saturday afternoons, for a few years. The fact that it had integrated socks and gloves made the suit extra fun for him, having always enjoyed the feeling of full enclosure, with no seams (or what he called ‘escape routes’) getting in the way. In fact, the sleepsack he was currently locked in was a back-entry zip piece, his piece of choice when playing at Phil’s.
He had been locked up in the thing for what felt like, and probably was, three or four hours. Phil had made sure Jeremy had an electro plug which comfortably, but consistently, teased his prostate. He also made sure Jeremy’s cock was securely locked in a steel chastity device — just the way they both preferred it. Upon getting Jeremy snuggly into the sack, Phil strapped belts up and down the thing, then threaded rope through the sack’s integrated D-rings to either side of the bondage bed. All that was left was a pair of noise-cancelling earphones, a little white noise piped in, and Jeremy was ready for a little Tuesday-evening meditation. Jeremy could be heard snoring as he fell into relaxed but brief bouts of sleep. And after a little teasing with the electro sessions along with a strategically placed vibrator wand, Phil eventually closed the scene, allowing Jeremy out of his bondage. Another one of their weekly sessions was over.
Continue reading O.E.T. – Part 1