By Rubber Dog

The boy’s visual record of his ordeal had ended as the hood had been fitted over his head; its thickness virtually unyielding to even the smallest attempted movement of his jaw.  The shock of the massive plug had made him try to scream, but he’d not even been able to do this properly, rather instead sending a shock of pain through his jaw and neck as he involuntarily tried to throw open his mouth.

This, in turn had caused him problems with the gag, again almost choking him as it threatened to trigger his yet untamed gag reflex.  Now, for a few moments he was left alone, panting hard and testing the restraints occasionally with agitated struggles but of course he was still held firm.  Through the thickness of the hood he could just about make out the sounds of his snorting breathing from the end of the thick mouth tube, that and the slight vibration it made across the rubber of his face.

His master watched this for a few minutes: the sporadic struggling gradually became less and less frantic as the boy accepted his predicament; the coughing flecks of spit that came out of the gag; and the way the boy was trying to adjust his feet, still not yet covered in rubber, as his legs no doubt began to ache more and more from their almost rigid bondage.

Eventually he detected the boy sigh deeply and let his head fall gently to the bars of the top of the cage, finally admitting that there was no way he could free himself and that whatever his master wanted to do to him was going to happen whether he liked it or not.  This was what he had been waiting for; the last voluntary submission the boy could make, or would make for quite some time.  He now had him physically controlled by the restraints and mentally subdued.  By the boy’s own admission, he was trapped.

He knew the boy would fight and struggle and perhaps even panic later on as the reality of his storage set in, but for now at least he wanted the boy reasonably relaxed if only to add another dip to the emotional rollercoaster of his captivity.

With the boy now breathing regularly and the only movements being made were simply to settle himself more comfortably over the cage, he set about untying the boy’s legs.  As each knot came free he held the slave’s flesh firmly where it had been held and rubbed it deeply, working his circulation back to normal; with one limb now entirely free of the bars of the cage he deliberately straightened it and placed the boy’s foot back on the floor, ensuring that the slave knew that this was the position his master wanted him to keep it in whilst he worked on freeing the other.

Having unfastened both legs, the boy had his feet together and slightly away from the cage to which the rest of him was still firmly secured.  The pressure this placed on the plug pushing up inside him made the boy squirm and moan gently, either through pleasure because of the attention his prostate was now getting or discomfort because of the overwhelming size of it – he wasn’t sure which.  Either way, the sounds his slave was making were welcome and the sight of his butt moving slowly around the plug, the base of which could clearly be seen through the tight rubber, made his own dick swell.  He allowed the boy to continue subtly adjusting himself to the size and shape of it, no doubt trying to settle it to some more comfortable or more pleasurable position, whilst he got out the next item of restraint the boy would have to endure.

Again, made from thick but well molded rubber, it was the size and shape of a small sleeping-bag and tapered towards the closed end.  The heavy-duty zip that ran the length of it was supplemented by a set of wide straps that wrapped the whole way around it at regular intervals, held in place by loops riveted into the rubber.

Unzipping it and moving the free ends of the straps to either side, he laid it on the floor underneath the boy’s legs, lifting his feet momentarily to place them just inside the narrow end of the opened sack.  Inside, the boy felt the difference in surface texture beneath his feet and began to wonder what was happening next, he had heard nothing much for a while now except occasional heavy vibrations transmitted up through the cage and his body.  But he couldn’t really tell what these meant or what was going on; the disorientation welled up inside him causing him almost to panic.  No sound at all, rather than this surreal bass sound from time to time, would have been easier to take.

As one peak of anxiety began to subside he realized that the feeling in his legs had changed further.  The texture under his bare feet was still the same, slick and smooth, cold at first but warmer now – he took this to be rubber.  But now his legs felt warmer too, and somehow heavier.  This change is sensation caught him off-guard as he’d been pre-occupied with his near panic from the disorientation.  Instinctively he tensed and tried to bring his legs in under him, but in doing so he found out exactly what had changed.

A soft buzzing sensation he felt along the back of his thighs confirmed his fears; his master pulled the zip up along the rubber leg-sack slowly and deliberately from his slave’s feet to the top of his legs.  As the zip closed it pulled in the thick rubber behind it, binding his legs tightly together as it went.  To the boy this felt cold at first as though this new rubber was in contact with his skin directly; and tight, tight as though it held the muscles of his calves and thighs firm, almost solid.

The Master ran his hands over this new surface and expertly searched for any ridges or creases in the rubber, places where it had become stuck to the thinner first layer of rubber underneath.  Where he found one he carefully eased it out and smoothed it away.  He felt the tension in the slave’s body, the flexing of his muscles under his hands as the boy began the process of getting accustomed to the restriction of his movement.  For now his legs were at least still mobile, albeit as a single unit.

His master pulled firmly up on the zip to ensure it was all the way home, and then with a small padlock, secured it to a retaining ring fixed at the top of the sleeve to ensure it could not slip down.  He now concentrated on doing up the five straps down the length of it, they wrapped around it snuggly at the ankles, just below the knees and immediately above them, another at the mid-thigh, and a final one around the top just below the boy’s butt.

With each fastened up tightly first, he then re-buckled each again, pulling harder to force them even tighter and more secure.  When he was satisfied with this, and sweating from the exertion of it he stood back and took in the boy’s situation.  It was clear the boy was uncomfortable from the kicking of his bound legs, obviously trying to buck the leg-sack off, and the pitiful wailing coming through the gag.  He stood behind his slave, his legs either side of his captive’s as though about to fuck him, and using one hand gently applied pressure to the base of the plug and kept it there.  The boy didn’t stop his moaning and whimpering, but the nature of it changed, his legs stopped tensing and flexing and fell instead to the floor.  His head slowly moved as much as it could, back and sideways clearly overwhelmed by the pleasure the plug was giving him.

He had not expected that simple pressure on the plug would make the boy forget the aching bondage in his legs so easily.  He put the boy’s eager acceptance of sexual pleasure down to his inexperience.  But that didn’t stop him going further.  Now, instead of just pushing against the plug he held his fist against it and pushed it and ground it around.  The response this got was immediate.  The slave instantly fought frantically, trashing from side to side and howling fiercely into the gag.  But this struggle was not some concerted effort to get free, this was totally different.  It was a primal show of desperation, the tidal wave of sexual frustration caused by this attack on his ass was more than the boy could handle.  This struggle was an instinctual need to get fucked by the plug buried inside him.  It was a struggle his own body created to make the plug make him cum.

Enough of that; he certainly was not about to let the boy cum.  He brought his fist away quickly, leaving no pressure on the plug and no movement against the boy’s prostate.  The struggles from this were almost as violent; the boy now fought pitiably against his restraints, not because he had become aware of his aching legs, but because he didn’t want his master to stop playing with his plug.  The boy kicked aggressively, progressively getting more angry and frustrated.  The whimpering and pleading moans changing in nature again; no longer those of a horny worked up slaveboy, but those of a hungry desperate and denied captive.  The boy’s obedience and willingness to submit had momentarily left him as his body argued with his master for more attention.

Watching the struggling, his master knew it must be causing the boy a great deal of pain; what movement he had left in his upper body would only have meant that the twisting and fighting would leave him sore, and the way he thrashed his head around would probably have left him dazed in different circumstances.  But this is exactly where he wanted the boy; aware of his dick, aware of his need to cum, aware of his own captivity, but equally aware that he could do nothing about any of them.

The fight subsided and the boy slumped.  The whimpering had stopped and now all he could hear was the sound of the boy sobbing.  He touched his broken boy’s shoulders, holding them firmly in his hands.  This sudden feeling of his master touching him caused the boy to raise his head and try to rub it gently against his owner’s forearms.  Not in any attempt to gain favor for a resumption of the plug fucking, but as a sign of trust and submission.

With the boy still sobbing he quickly released the rest of the restraints holding him to the cage and lifted him up from it.  Even without the leg-sack he doubted the boy would have been able to walk either because of the plug or exhaustion at the struggling.  He laid him out on a padded bondage table just across from the cage and let him lay there resting for a moment.  He held his hand firmly down on the boy’s chest to ensure he got the message not to move.

The boy kept as still as he could, totally unsure now of his surroundings and completely out of touch to which way he was facing or where in the playroom he now was.  So aside from his shivering and gingerly stretching his arms down by his side, after their position pulled out above him over the cage, he kept himself motionless.

The next piece of restraint for his slave was a strait-jacket …

 

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 Contact Rubber Dog through his site, Male Restraint Stories, where this story was originally posted.