A story that has been re-imagined by Kiggle

Part 4 – Continued

He next took the crotch strap and pulled it, carefully through my legs, and fastened it to the buckle at the back.  It felt comfortable at first.  Then a firm but not sharp tug made it considerably tighter.  At first I thought it might be unbearable, but after a second or two the feeling it engendered was one of security and firmness, not pain.  Odd, I thought, but done with such care and attention to detail that I began to think that Brig had used part of the week at least, to practice on someone else.

Having satisfied himself that all was secure in that region, he turned his attention to the back straps.  Apparently he had done them up only sufficiently tightly to hold everything fairly firmly in place.   Now that the complete circle of tension on the jacket had been completed by fastening the crotch strap, the fabric of the main part of the body had moved slightly downwards and the fastenings had been slightly distorted or misplaced on my body.

With his normal attention to detail, he started again at the top strap on the back trying the tension, and in one or two cases managed to tighten the strap by another notch.  Now the jacket was close around my body.  I tried to wriggle inside it, but this was not possible and only caused Brig to tell me to stop trying to do silly things and just concentrate on the task of having the jacket properly applied.

I suppose he had a point.  ‘What next?’ I wondered.  I need not have done!  Brig told me to hold out my arms in front of me, and then to cross them.  I was persuaded to try two alternative ways of doing this, either the right arm under the left elbow or vice versa.

According to Brig, there was a way for everyone that felt was more natural for them: and there was.  Right arm under the left elbow suited me better.  Having ascertained which was the better way for me, I was instructed to push my left fist (and sleeve) through the loop on the heavy front strap and then to push the right fist and sleeve through, in the opposite direction.  The presence of the loop was very discouraging to any ideas of escape.

Then of course, being thorough, Brig pulled the sleeves on either side through the leather under-arms loops.  This only served to emphasise the fact that no way were my arms going to go up or down!

By this juncture I was beginning to abandon any thoughts of escape, and my mind began to concentrate on the technical details that I read about during my research. I surprised myself that I could turn my mind away from the threatening nature of the device and begin to be fascinated by the actual procedures for applying it.

Brig then proved to be the thinking and punctilious person he was.  He guided the strap on one sleeve end through the buckle on the other sleeve and pulled the sleeves together firmly but not tightly with his right hand.  Fine, I thought, that is not too horrible.  However, next move was for him to stand near my left side, close to me and facing me, then to grasp my body with his left arm and suddenly jerk on the strap that secured the sleeves together with his right hand.   That was totally unexpected by me, and the strap was fairly tight, my having no chance to have tried to gain any slack.  That was a totally different feel.  He tried again and without jerking managed to pull the sleeves together by a further notch on the strap.  I was now firmly hugging myself and was totally unable to move any limb on my upper body by more than a fraction.

I was overwhelmed by a feeling of complete helplessness and dependence, and I was close to panic.  I said so to Brig, who in his normal calm and logical way said that if one was minded to panic then the safest place to do it was in a straitjacket!  I tugged and I pulled and I strained, but to no avail.  All I could do was to wriggle my elbows and upper arms by an inch or so.  This attracted Brig’s immediate attention, and he explained that for the jacket to be completely effective it should secure the complete upper body so that it virtually impossible for any movement to be had.  Accordingly he placed two straps, one round each bicep, and joined them by a third at my back.  He then drew the two bicep straps firmly together and this stopped altogether any movement of my upper arms.   The upper part of my body was now completely immobilised, and I felt myself to be completely under the control of Brig.

However, I still trusted him and composed myself gradually.  The jacket was not uncomfortable but was very restrictive, and I was beginning to get distinctly warm.  I struggled a bit and got hotter, so struggling was soon abandoned.  Struggling achieved nothing and the price for doing it was to get heated.  This straitjacket device was devilish.  I thought, however, that I was going to be able to survive the two and a half hours of the movie.

 

Part 5

 

Brig set the movie up and placed me in a comfortable chair.  I was using all my self-control to persuade myself that I could endure my situation.  Then Brig announced that the better way of securing a person in a straitjacket was also to secure the legs.  He stopped the movie and strapped my legs firmly together, ankle to ankle, knee to knee, and thigh to thigh.  If I stood up I would be unable to move a step and was very likely to tumble over.  That thought alone was very troubling, but Brig was there and in an emergency would no doubt calmly help.  Nevertheless I began to realise that I was under his control completely and that he could, if he wished, do almost anything with me.  This unsettled me a little and I had to struggle to gain control of my thoughts.

And so we resumed the movie.  I was trying to concentrate on it as best I could and keep my mind off the effects of the straitjacket.   I suddenly realised that I had not thought of masturbating at all whilst all these interesting new procedures were being followed.   That was when I first thought that I wanted out.  But I said nothing.  I tried the jacket again.  Totally unyielding!  I tried to apply pressure here and there and only succeeded in making my elbows go numb.   This did not go unnoticed by Brig, who refrained from comment.

Eventually I said that I was less than comfortable in this jacket.  That I knew it was only a leather and canvas jacket but I felt strongly its devilish construction and was beginning to imagine being left in it for a lengthy period.  Brig’s only response was that I had chosen a two and a half hour movie and that was that.  I tried again.  He said that I was now getting to that point, which he read about in his research, where I saw the device as more than just a restrictive jacket, and was regarding it as an instrument of punishment or torture.  Nevertheless I was going to stay there, at least for a bit!  I tried again saying that I did now realise that the straitjacket was a torment and that no matter how I tried I had to accept that I was stuck, imprisoned and that I hated the jacket.  I wanted out.  I said so.  Mistake!

Brig produced a gag, which he efficiently applied so that all I could do was grunt.  And my mind could no longer concentrate on the movie, which had half an hour to run still.  I still wanted to masturbate despite the jacket, and I was not sure that the jacket did not, of itself, make that feeling stronger.  I struggled and grunted and pulled and wriggled as much as I could.  Brig saw that I was getting distressed and asked if I really and truly wanted out.  I nodded and bit by bit and slowly he loosened all the straps and let me out, as he had promised to.

I was nearly in tears with frustration and thankful to be let out. At that point I never ever wanted to be put in a straitjacket again.  Brig turned the movie off.

As I began to relax with a beer we discussed my feelings and I told him that I had experienced an intense desire to masturbate, so perhaps his idea was not helping me mentally.   All it was doing apparently was physically preventing me from masturbating.  He accepted this and said that overnight we both should consider the next step.  He went off home and I went to bed, where I slept very soundly, until the morning, when I awoke in that blissful state of being all comfortable, drowsy but able to think thoughts and make plans.  I had no immediate feeling that I should masturbate.  Odd.

As I was laying there, my mind sort of wandered.  I began to realise that whilst I hated the straitjacket at first and had wanted out, it still held a fascination for me.  Firstly there was the procedure of being put in it, then the unusual feeling of being helpless.  But what started to appeal to me was the thought that once in, I was there till someone like Brig came to my rescue.  It was a sense of dependency that I had never before experienced.  And it more and more appealed to me.  The jacket was still in my room, so I got up and got it.  I looked at its construction closely and began to get hard in the process.  I slipped my arms in the sleeves and tried to shrug it on over my shoulders.   I got a comforting feeling despite my earlier reaction to the jacket.

I phoned Brig earlier than it was his custom to get up on a Saturday, and I explained to him my thinking.   He was his usual calm, logical self and said that he would come over that day in the late afternoon and discuss things thoroughly.  I was so happy with the thought.

 

Part 6

 

Saturday crept slowly by, and eventually Brig appeared.  At first he seemed disinclined to listen and took things very casually.  I had made a light meal, because I had half-hoped he would suggest that we continue with the use of the jacket whilst we watched a movie.

We had that meal and only then was he prepared to continue discussions on the straitjacket therapy approach.   By the time I had brought him completely up to date with my thoughts in detail he was obviously beginning to formulate a plan.  In short, it was that I should agree to be put in the jacket, perhaps without my legs being bound, and stay there until I or he decided otherwise.  I did feel that was almost a way of cheating, because the option of just coming out whenever I wished would be rather pointless.   It would be against the whole concept of being in a straitjacket and against what had seemed to me to be its main attraction that morning.  But this logical thinking rather frightened me.  I nevertheless told him what I was feeling.  Brig developed this line of approach and said if I followed it to its ultimate conclusion then I would need to submit to being put in it and left until he and he alone saw fit to release me.  Eventually he saw that I had been thoroughly logical in my approach and embraced that thought.  I was trapped by my own logic and had to go along with it.

So once again I was securely strapped into the jacket.  I was a little frightened as it was all being done up tightly and the feeling of helplessness developed.  Brig was slowly and deliberately going about his work and making no comments.  Then he produced a heavy leather hood, which he said he was about to apply.  That had not been part of the plan at all, and I was not happy.   Nevertheless he did apply it very effectively.  How could I prevent him? It had holes to breathe through and at first I had almost to plan my breathing, then it settled into a normal reflex rhythm.  I could see nothing.

No movie had been selected and Brig decided we should not have one.  After we had sat for about an hour during which I tried the jacket to see if I could in any way obtain a little slack or even begin to devise a way to get out, he said that he had a plan.  He was going to follow it through whatever happened.

The plan was that I should remain in the jacket for at least twelve hours and more if possible.   That frightened me terribly and I struggled in the jacket – quite without avail of course.  Brig then pointed out to me the senselessness of even trying.  I got my mind around that thought and was appalled at the prospect of just being in the jacket for twelve hours – and this was only my second time in it!!

However as time went on my mind turned from one thing to another – just ordinary day to day things.  Then of course it reverted to my current situation, which I explored thoroughly.  The more I did this, the more I was fascinated with the effect of the jacket.  Eventually I reached the thought that I was becoming obsessed with it.   This could not be happening to me, could it?

I was laid on my bed to spend the night in the jacket.   Brig would stay in the flat.  Time passed slowly and I did eventually fall asleep.  When I awoke I frightened myself by finding myself restrained.  Frightening but quite delicious.  I had in fact slept pretty well all night.

The peculiar thing was that my mind had been so occupied by the jacket and its effect that no thoughts of masturbation had occurred to me.

Brig heard me moving and came into the room, asking me how I had slept.  He then asked if I would like to be let out.   And to my own surprise I answered ‘Not yet, please.   Just a little longer’.   I knew Brig would leave me for ‘just a little’ longer, and that the time in the jacket was MINE.  I savoured it and when the time to be released came it was almost with regret that I returned to the real world.

After breakfast we had a post mortem on the night.  I explained the thinking that had occurred in the night and that although it had been a bit of an endurance test I was now much more comfortable with being put in a straitjacket.  In fact I was looking forward to when I could try it again.

It was at this point that Brig smiled and said that he had hoped for that outcome.  Then he told me the truth.   He had suspected that I was unusually active in masturbating and saw that as a way to get me into the straitjacket originally intended for Joseph.  He very much enjoyed controlling people and had regretted that his brother had so narrowly avoided being his first straitjacket ‘victim’.  He had built the whole scenario with the one purpose of getting me into the jacket and he strongly suspected that I would become addicted to it.

He was right, of course, and from time to time now he enjoys strapping me into it (and applying varying other devices, too) and I enjoy my sessions in the jacket.  He is so careful, deliberate and methodical in all he does that I have never once got anywhere near escaping.   Whilst I still enjoy that challenge, I don’t expect I ever shall escape.   And of course that keeps my mind from wandering into the avenue of masturbating more often than is really good for me.

 The End

NOTE: This was a story that Mark had found on another site, originally called Jacketed, and he had reinvented it for a gay audience. After the re-imagined story was posted here on Metalbond, yet another blog reader — a guy named Kiggle — took the initiative to further embellish this story. He has written a continuation of part Four, plus he has added a Part Five and a Part Six!

If you missed Mark’s version, click here

Metal would like to thank both Mark for re-imagining this story and Kiggle for continuing it.