By PrisonerX

Part 1

Sandro lived in the city. He was a keen biker and loved everything that went with the lifestyle, not least the opportunity and reason to wear full leathers. Recently his bike was not running as well as it normally did and he knew it was due for a full service. He had spotted an advertisement for a motorcycle service centre, which offered exactly what he wanted for the bike. Although it was about 80 km from his home, the advertisement offered “accommodation in a quiet secure location for you and your bike while it is being serviced according to your requirements.”

Sandro telephoned the number stated in the advertisement and asked for more details. The voice at the other end sounded friendly but authoritative. He first asked Sandro where he had seen the advertisement and when Sandro told him he explained that that the next available time would be the following weekend. He told him to “report” at midday on the Friday and that the work would be done over the weekend. The accommodation was included in the cost of the service. Sandro said he would like to make a booking and gave his name and address and details of his bike to the voice.

On the Friday morning, he packed a small rucksack, pulled on his bike leathers and headed out the door of his apartment and walked over to the garage where he kept his motorcycle. Within minutes he was heading out of town and very soon was on the motorway in the direction of the service centre. He arrived in the town shortly before midday and quickly found the bike centre.

On this particular Friday, the motorcycle service centre looked much like any other shop of its type throughout the country. It was on the edge of a small town in the countryside and according to the painted sign above the entrance; it serviced and repaired most of the well-known makes of motorbikes available. Certainly anybody passing by would hardly give it a second glance. Behind the front reception office there was a courtyard surrounded by a large workshop where the bikes were serviced, repaired and any other work required was carried out.  At anytime during the day, the noise of machinery and motorcycle engines could be heard as the mechanics went about their task of servicing customers’ bikes. Judging from the number of leather-clad bikers who came and went everyday, it was a busy and successful business.

The centre was busy that Friday with customers coming and going either to drop a bike in for servicing or to collect one that had been serviced. The bikes, once serviced, were parked in the courtyard awaiting their owners so no customer ever had a reason to go into the workshop. If any customer had walked into the workshop he might have noticed that, although the building extended back by about 70 metres, the work area inside was no more than 20 metres deep. In the wall at the back of the work area was a strong steel door that obviously led to another part of the building not open to public view. Again, any casual observer would probably conclude that this was a storage area for spare parts and other machinery required for the business. It was indeed a storage area but nothing stored there could be described as machinery or spare parts.

Sandro parked his bike outside the front office, removed his helmet and walked inside. A tall well-built guy wearing a black t-shirt and leather bike trousers was sitting behind the desk.  Sandro gave his name and the guy said, “I’m Dirk, the owner of this centre. If you leave the keys with me, your bike will be taken care of. You can leave your helmet here as well.” As he spoke two guys wearing full leathers and motorcycle helmets with blacked out visors entered the office. “These guys will show you to your accommodation. Enjoy your stay.” As he said that a slight smile flickered across his face. Before he could say anything in reply, Sandro’s arms were grabbed and he found himself being led across the courtyard to the workshop by the anonymous bikers who remained silent. He tried to pull away but their grip just tightened as they walked him towards a metal door at the back of the workshop. Just before entering one of the guys pulled something out of his pocket. It was a leather hood which he quickly pulled over Sandro’s head. Sandro attempted to pull it off while starting to shout but the other guy pulled his arms behind him and quickly cuffed them. At the same time a gag was forced into his open mouth and was strapped firmly in place. He was now helpless, unable to see where he was going or to shout for help.

He heard the door open and, as he was pushed through, he heard it slam behind him. His escorts now marched him a few metres along what he thought must be a corridor although he didn’t know, as he was unable to see. His cuffs were removed and his bike jacket and t-shirt were pulled off him before his wrists were cuffed again, pulled above his head and attached to a chain. His arms were pulled up just high enough to force him to stand on his toes. He felt, first his right, and then his left leg being pulled up as his bike boots were pulled off followed by his socks. As he felt the waistband of his leather bike jeans being undone he tried to shout out but the gag ensured his shout was nothing but a muffled grunt. Very quickly his jeans were removed. His arms were beginning to ache and as he was straining to maintain his balance on his toes, he felt very vulnerable as he stood there, hooded, gagged and clad only in his briefs. His captors had remained silent all this time and he found that unnerving as well.

Although he was rather shocked at what had happened in those last few minutes, he felt, to his embarrassment, his cock beginning to harden and stretch the fabric of his briefs. He knew that this would be noticed very soon by his captors but nothing he could do or think off seemed to prevent his erection. He felt one of his captors grab the waistband of his briefs and pull it tight as they were ripped off him. At the same time his arms were lowered enabling him to stand properly on the ground. His ankles were kicked apart and each one was secured to either end of a spread bar. All this time his cock remained erect even though his mind was racing and he was feeling apprehensive if not scared about his situation. Before he had time to think anymore about this he was hit by a jet of cold water which he thought must be coming from a hose. His erect cock now shrivelled with the shock of the water. Again he shouted out in protest but the gag once more reduced the shout to a muffled grunt.

He felt hands grabbing his now soft cock and as he struggled to try and pull away, he felt his cock being forced into some sort of metal tube which pushed it down against his body. A metal waistband attached to the tube was fastened around him and a chain was pulled through his crack securing his cock and balls in a metal chastity device. The effect was to cause his cock to try and erect but this time it was imprisoned in hard metal and although he tried desperately to prevent it, his cock continued to harden and strained to get out of its steel prison thus causing him major discomfort. His arms, which were still cuffed and attached to a chain above him, were to his relief, released and the cuffs were removed. One of his captors then pulled his arms out horizontally in front of him, and although he remained silent, Sandro realised that he was required to hold his arms in that position. The reason quickly became clear as he felt them being enclosed in leather which he could also recognise by its smell. He realised he was being put in a straitjacket which was very expertly strapped up tightly by his captors. His ankles were removed from the spread bar; he felt his captors’ hand on his shoulders as they guided him into what he surmised was another room.

He felt his gag being unstrapped and at the same time his hood was removed. His two captors were still wearing their helmets with the blacked out visors and remained silent. He saw he was in a cell about 3 metres square with no natural light. The straps on his straitjacket were padlocked so he saw that there was no possibility of being able to get out of it. He started to shout demanding his release when one of his captors forced a heavy leather muzzle with built in gag on to his head. Once more he was silenced and could only grunt ineffectually. Although he was totally helpless, his captors shackled his ankles before leaving the cell and locking the barred door.

Sandro managed to sit down on the floor of the cell and began to think about the events of the last hour. He was still wondering what he had got himself into and was somewhat apprehensive. But as he struggled in his straitjacket and tried to no avail to expel the gag in his mouth, he felt his imprisoned cock stiffening in its steel prison. In spite of not knowing what was ahead of him, he was sexually aroused and in a strange way enjoying his predicament.

Before he could think any further about things, he heard someone approaching his cell. Through the barred door, he recognised Dirk. He grunted into his muzzle but only unintelligible sounds came out. “I hope you find your accommodation satisfactory,” said Dirk, “the bad news is that we require a part for your bike which we haven’t got in stock just now. The good news is that we can obtain it for you, but that will not be before Monday. However you are welcome to stay until then at our expense.” Sandro grunted into muzzle again and Dirk responded by laughing. “Well our advertisement offered a “quiet and secure” location,” he said. “I understand from your escorts that you seemed to…..er…..how I shall put it…..react well to your welcome here. Or at least your cock did. I find that very interesting. Perhaps it’s something we should investigate further.” He smiled again and said, “Well I’ll let you relax a little now; after all you wanted a quiet break in the countryside.” Dirk walked off as Sandro again grunted into his muzzle while at the same time struggled in vain to get out of the straitjacket.

 

Part 2

 

Far from relaxing as Dirk had suggested, Sandro tried loosening the straitjacket by struggling as best he could. He rolled over on the ground, all the time trying to pull his arms out but he soon realised that he was no escapologist! It was useless. His silent captors clearly knew their job. As beads of sweat rolled down his face from his forehead from his efforts to escape he realised that there was nothing he could do other than wait and see how long he would remain in this state. He was conscious that during his futile struggle, his cock remained hard, or as hard as it could be, given that it was imprisoned in a steel chastity device. And this was very frustrating as he had a great desire to cum, which was denied him by the presence of this cruel device.

Accepting his dilemma, (he had no choice!) he managed to make himself as comfortable as possible by propping himself against the wall. His mind was racing as he wondered what he had got himself into. Although somewhat apprehensive, he was strangely calm as he realised that he was now living a fantasy he had often thought about. He relaxed a little more as he remembered that he had told his friend, Gerry, about this motorcycle service shop and that he had arranged to go there on Friday.  Gerry told him that he had heard about this place. Sandro remembered he had smiled as he said that he understood that, while it had a reputation for providing a very good service for the bike, it was also well known in certain biking circles for offering the bike owner an unforgettable weekend. Sandro wondered if Gerry knew more about this place than he had said. The answer to that, however, would have to wait until he returned home, and just now he didn’t know when that would be. Clearly he was going nowhere just now!

He had no idea how long it was since he had been imprisoned but it seemed like several hours. He could hear the sound of motorcycle engines and other noises coming from the workshops. He also heard voices from time to time but although he strained to listen, the voices were too faint for him to make out what was being said. He tried shouting for attention but all his gagged mouth could produce was a muffled grunt and some saliva dribbling down his chin. Time passed slowly, or did it? He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been in the cell. His only point of reference was that he had arrived at midday as arranged. He struggled to his feet and tried again to loosen his straitjacket while knowing inwardly that it was a hopeless task. His shackled ankles allowed a little movement, but in such a small cell there was no space to walk, or in his case, shuffle.

As he was thinking about sitting down again, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The leather-clad figures of his silent captors appeared in front of the barred door. The door swung open as it was unlocked and Sandro was grabbed by both of them and led out of the cell. For a moment he thought he was going back outside, but instead of going back the way he came in, he was taken in the opposite direction. He was led into a large room where Dirk was seated at a table. Dirk told his escorts to remove his straitjacket. As Sandro stretched his stiff arms, his wrists were immediately shackled loosely in front of him. “I will have your muzzle removed, but if you so much as utter one word it will be replaced immediately. Do you understand?” said Dirk. Sandro nodded and Dirk told the escorts to remove the muzzle. While one of them attended to this, the other one brought some food to the table and Sandro was told to eat. “I’m sure you must be hungry,” said Dirk, “We like to look after our guests here, but you had better eat now as I’m not sure when your next meal will be as we are very busy in the workshops today.”

As Sandro ate his food he had a chance to observe his escorts who were standing close by and, as usual, remained silent. They were dressed as before, head to toe in tightly fitting bike leathers, wearing gloves and their helmets had mirrored visors. As a result, he could not make out any facial features, but instead saw the reflection of his face in their visors. Their silence was a little unnerving, but Sandro knew better than to say anything, as he did not wish to have his muzzle strapped on again.

As Sandro finished eating, Dirk rose to go saying, “I will see you later. As I said earlier, your bike will be ready on Monday. I daresay you might be interested to see the workshops at some stage. I shall arrange for that later. I think you will find it very interesting to get an inside view of the work we do here. As for now, these guys will look after you and see you are secure for the rest of your stay. They will show you the toilet facilities and anything else they think you might need. But as you may have noticed, they are not very talkative!”  Turning to the ever-present escorts he said, “you know what to do with our guest here. I’ll leave you to it.” Sandro heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor and the sound of the heavy metal door to the workshop clunking shut.

As soon as Dirk had left, the escorts grabbed Sandro by his arms and led him out of the room. He could hear faint sounds coming from the workshop again and his cock started to stiffen as he wondered what any customer would make of what was going on in the rooms behind the workshop. Two leather clad guys escorting a guy, naked except for a metal device covering his cock and balls while his wrists and ankles were shackled. Sandro said he needed to piss and without receiving any verbal answer, his escorts led him to a toilet where he relieved himself with some difficulty not being used to having to piss while locked in chastity.

On leaving the toilet, his head was grabbed and a gag was forced into his mouth and padlocked securely. Before he could see anymore, a heavy spandex hood with no eyes or mouth opening was pulled over his head and he was forced up against a wall. His ankle shackles were removed and leather restraints strapped on in their place. His legs were spread and his ankles secured to metal rings protruding from the wall. His wrist shackles were removed and leather restraints strapped on in their place. His arms were forced up and his wrists secured to metal rings above him. He felt his chastity belt being unlocked and as it was pulled off, his already stiff cock erected. He felt a little embarrassed but his silent escorts remained just that………silent. The silence was broken by the sound of an electric clippers being switched on and before he had time to react he felt it moving up and down his spread-eagled body as his body hair was shorn. He tried to struggle but he was tightly stretched against the wall and had very little chance to move. Next his pubic hair was clipped and then he felt cream being applied and followed seconds later by the strokes of a razor as any remaining hair or stubble was removed from his manhood. He was now sporting a raging hard on but neither of his escorts so much as touched it.

A jet of cold water took him by surprise and his hard on quickly subsided. As it did, he felt his now limp cock being forced back into the metal tube, which made up part of his chastity device. Within less than a minute he locked in chastity again. His arms and wrists were released from the metal rings and he was pushed forward and his head forced into a set of stocks. The stocks were secured around his neck and as the hood was pulled he saw one of his escorts holding the hair clippers. He shouted into his gag as his hair fell to the ground as his head was shaved. His head was released and he was manhandled onto a long narrow table and secured to it by a series of straps. Whoever these guys were, they clearly had done this before, thought Sandro as he tried to come to terms with was happening. Within minutes his arms and then his legs were being wrapped in wide gauge duct tape. Finally his taped arms were pinned to his torso by the application of more tape which also enclosed his legs from his thighs down to his ankles. He tried to struggle to avoid it but the straps held him securely and as the tape enclosed his body the straps were removed one by one. As it approached his head he shouted into his gag but his captors paid no attention. His gag was removed but immediately replaced by another gag, which had a hole in the middle and tube attached to ensure his airway. His ears were plugged and as his shaved head was wrapped his vision disappeared and all went dark. He felt his lower body being lifted and something passed underneath it. This was followed by his middle torso and then his shoulders. The silence was broken by the sound of a motor. He felt his body being lifted into the air. After a few seconds, the motor stopped and the mummified form, which was Sandro, swung gently in a horizontal suspension.

In his office, Dirk switched on the monitor on his desk. As the picture came to life he saw a mummified form suspended horizontally from the ceiling and, as he watched, this helpless, anonymous form, seemed to try and move but the tight bindings were clearly too much for his entombed guest, or to be more accurate his prisoner. The silence in the room was only broken by intermittent noises as Sandro tried to speak. The leather clad silent figures of the escorts were also visible as they kept watch over their mummified prisoner. He switched off the monitor and, picking up a set of keys, he headed out of his office towards the steel door at the back of the workshops.

Meanwhile Sandro tried to move his arms and his legs but the tight cocoon prevented any real movement. He tried to strain his muscles but to no avail. His plugged ears blocked out any external noises and all he could hear was the sound of his breathing as he inhaled and exhaled through the tube in the centre of his gag. Unable to hear, speak or see anything, he was left alone with his thoughts. As he hung there, his body temperature slowly increased and he began to sweat. His cock tried without success to erect as the chastity device ensured that his manhood remained confined to its metal prison. As his frustration grew, Sandro tried again and again to bring himself to orgasm, but the tight bindings covering his body from head to toe combined with the unforgiving metal tube that imprisoned his swollen cock made this impossible. He tried calling out to demand his release but the gag ensured his words were reduced to an unintelligible mumble. Reluctantly he accepted that there was nothing he could do other than wait until his hosts decided to release him.

As Dirk approached the steel door, he was joined by two of his staff who had just finished work for the day. They were still dressed in their work overalls. Opening the steel door he motioned them to enter and they all walked quickly towards the room where Sandro was suspended, mummified and silent, observed by the escorts. As Dirk entered the room, the escorts took off their helmets revealing leather hoods that covered their heads tightly and which were locked in place. The hoods had a built-in gag, which, if Sandro had been able to see them, explained why they had remained silent. Dirk unlocked their hoods with his keys and said “OK guys, time to have something to eat and take some rest. You’re off duty until midnight.” The escorts removed their leather hoods and took off their gloves, boots and bike leathers and stood there clad only in their briefs. At the same time the two staff members who had come in with Dirk stripped off their work overalls and work boots and handed them to the escorts who then put them on. The escorts then left while the new arrivals got kitted out in the bike leathers and boots. They then pulled on the leather hoods, which Dirk then locked in place.

Although his ears were plugged, Sandro could still hear a little and he was certainly aware that there were others in the room with him. He strained to listen as Dirk said, “Take him down in thirty minutes. The workshops will be closing shortly so we shall be able to proceed with arranging his accommodation for the night. I will join you later to check out that our guest is being accorded all facilities we have to offer to make sure his stay here is something he’ll always remember.”

Sandro’s cock continued to strain against its metal prison and, in an attempt to lessen the discomfort he was now feeling, he tried to think of other things in the hope that his cock would soften and relieve the discomfort. The more he tried, the harder his cock seemed to get. Images flashed across his mind of a helpless mummified form suspended in mid air, with only the sound of breathing betraying the fact that the cocoon contained a human being. He had seen such images on the Internet many times. They were a favourite fantasy of his but this time it was no fantasy. It was real; he was now one of those images. His mummified form hung helplessly from the suspension straps as he waited for, indeed hoped for, release from his now increasingly sweaty and hot skin-tight prison. More than that, he craved the opportunity to relieve his raging hard on.

 

Part 3

 

The sound of a motor starting up alerted Sandro to the fact that something was about to happen. Slowly he felt himself being lowered bit by bit until he was resting, (he presumed), back on the table. Although he couldn’t see anything, he was correct in his perception. The two leather clad escorts immediately set to work, (in silence of course), cutting and stripping away the duct tape that had kept him mummified for the last few hours. The feeling of cool air circulating around his sweat soaked body was welcome and as his head bindings were removed he closed his eyes momentarily in order to adjust to the glare of the lights in the room. His gag, however, remained firmly in place and he became aware of how thirsty he was. He grunted ineffectually into his gag asking for some water. His silent escorts ignored his grunts as they manhandled him into a wheelchair, which stood alongside the table. His wrists were grabbed and secured to the arms of the chair by means of leather restraints and similarly his ankles were secured to the legs of the chair.

Although he could see clearly once more, this told him nothing about his escorts and all he could see was his reflection in their helmet visors. The sight of his bound and gagged naked self caused a stirring once more in his metal belt, which was still imprisoning his manhood.

One of the escorts placed a two litre bottle of water on his lap with a plastic tube protruding from it which he pushed into the tube in Sandro’s gag enabling him to take a much needed drink and quench his thirst. As he drank the water, Sandro watched as the two escorts opened some cupboards at the side of the room and pulled out the contents. From what he could make out, they included a one- piece leather bike suit, a leather hood and various other items that he couldn’t see properly. As he sat restrained in the wheelchair, he began to feel very tired. His eyes grew heavy but, at first, he resisted the urge to close them. However within seconds he had drifted off to sleep. Whatever was in the water had done its job.

Sandro awoke with a start and for a moment wondered where he was. He was still sitting in the wheelchair. He was wearing a black one- piece leather bike suit complete with boots. Although his ankles were no longer secured to the sides of the chair, he soon discovered that they were shackled with a short chain between them. He was also wearing a tight fitting heavy-duty leather hood to which a gag was strapped and locked in place with a padlock. As he tried to move his fingers he realised that his hands were encased in tight fitting leather mitts that were also locked in place using padlocks. Like his ankles his wrists were not secured to the chair but were shackled by a chain that limited his movement. Securing his body to the chair were two very wide leather straps; one ran across his chest and was locked behind; the other secured his thighs to the seat thus preventing any attempt on his part to stand up.

As he contemplated his position, once more his imprisoned cock began to stir in its metal cage. The two escorts stood, silent as ever, watching him and he, in turn, looked back at the figures clad from head to toe in black leather and as before wearing helmets with reflective visors which prevented him from seeing their faces or even their eyes. There was nothing for him to do but await events.

He didn’t have to wait long as within a few minutes the door at the side of the room opened and Dirk walked in. Dirk walked around Sandro, secured in the chair and addressing the escorts said, “OK, take our guest out of here and let’s get him into his overnight quarters.” One of the escorts immediately moved behind Sandro and, releasing the brake on the wheelchair, pushed him out through the open door. The remaining escort and Dirk followed them.

Sandro was wheeled along the corridor towards the steel door through which he had come on his arrival. As he was pushed through it, he saw that he was at the back of the workshop, now silent and deserted as it had closed for the day and the staff had gone home. His chair was pushed towards the end of the workshop where Sandro could see two steel doors standing upright from the floor on either side of an opening in the floor. The escort pushing his chair, stopped alongside what Sandro now saw was a deep cellar or pit. While the escort started to unlock the straps across his chest and thighs, the other escort appeared carrying a set of steps which he carefully let down into the pit.

Sandro was then manhandled out of the wheelchair into a standing position. He was led to the edge of the pit by the steps and Dirk said, “welcome to your overnight accommodation. Down you go. I suggest you take it easy on the steps!” Sandro hesitated and tried to say something. But his gag ensured that anything he tried to say was just an unintelligible grunt or series of grunts. His mind was racing. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to enter this pit but at the same time he found it strangely arousing. Before he could think anymore about it, the escorts took him by the shoulders and pushed him towards the steps. Sandro first placed one foot and then the other on the first step, taking great care as his ankle chain limited his range of movement. Slowly he descended the steps until he reached the bottom. He tried to see what the place was like but it was unlit and the only light entering it was from the workshop above him. He heard Dirk’s voice saying “stand forward of the steps and kneel down!” As he did so, the steps were withdrawn and immediately everything went completely dark as he heard the sound of the metal doors above him being closed and a bolt being drawn across preventing any means of opening them from the inside.

As he tried to stand up he bumped his head against the doors, which now imprisoned him underground. He realised that the headroom was too low for him to stand up properly. Although he was not blindfolded, he could not see or make out anything in the pitch dark of his prison. He reached out in front of him in an attempt to feel his way around but whatever way he turned, it seemed to him that his leather bound hands immediately hit a wall.

He lay on his back, his legs drawn up slightly as the pit was too short for him to stretch out in. He listened intently for a few seconds but all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, the rattle of his chains and the distinct creaking sound of leather as he moved. He reached down with his leather covered hands in an attempt to relieve his rock hard cock but the combination of leather mitts and the solid metal cage imprisoning his manhood ensured he would remain frustrated in his new hell.

 

Part 4

 

After lying on his back for some minutes, Sandro tried again to stand up but the dimensions of his prison ensured that he could not get off his knees. Although there was no blindfold attached to his hood, he could not see his leather-encased hands in front of him so dark was the pit in which he was imprisoned. Again he listened intently for any sound of movement or voices above him but aside from his breathing, there was nothing but silence. He made a half-hearted effort to pull the mitts off his hands but he knew that they padlocked in place and could not be removed without a key. He felt around the back of his hood but once again the padlocks locking first his hood and then his gag meant that he was wasting his time.

Eventually accepting that he could do nothing to help himself, he lay on his back again and tried to get as comfortable as his situation allowed him. As he lay there contemplating his hopeless position, his nostrils filled with smell of leather mixed with the smell of bike oil and other smells coming from the workshop. His raging hard-on did not diminish as his swollen cock tried to break free of its metal cage. He felt his eyes closing as slowly he drifted off to sleep.

Several times during the night he awoke with a start and, for a moment, he did not know where he was. But each time, as he lifted his head and it bumped against the steel doors that made up the roof of his prison, he was brought back to reality. On a couple of occasions he shouted as loudly as he could into his gag, but his muffled protests were met with nothing more than silence. He drifted off to sleep again.

The sound of voices and footsteps aroused him from his sleep. Above him the steel doors started to open and he covered his eyes while they adjusted to the daylight flooding in. Sandro struggled to his feet. It felt good to stretch his body having spent several hours in a cramped and confined position. He took his leather-clad hands away from his eyes and saw the familiar figures of the escorts standing above him. One of them dropped the steps into place and indicated to him to climb out of the pit. Sandro needed no second invitation! Aware of his shackled ankles, he carefully climbed the steps and as he emerged from the pit, his escorts grabbed him by his arms and led him back through the steel door at the rear of the workshop.

As he shuffled along, Sandro realised that he was feeling quite tired. He had had very little real sleep since he had left home the day before. He was hungry and very thirsty. The almost constant presence of a gag in his mouth was now making his jaws ache and he really hoped it would be removed before much longer. At least on this, he was not to be disappointed. He was led into a washroom and his escorts set about unlocking his hood, gag, the leather mitts covering his hands and his ankle shackles. His boots were pulled off and the escorts started to unzip his leather biker suit indicating to him that he should remove it.  Naked apart from his steel cock cage, Sandro was left to perform his ablutions.

After having a shower and something to eat and drink Sandro was feeling a great deal better. He was seated at a table beside which his ever-silent escorts stood guarding him. His attempts to engage them in conversation met with silence. As he contemplated the leather-clad figures in front of him, Sandro felt his cock stirring in its metal cage. He placed his hand on the metal belt in a vain attempt to relieve his now mounting sexual frustration but nothing he could do offered him any such relief.

After a few minutes, Dirk entered the room and spoke to the escorts. “Time to get our guest stored for the morning as the workshop opens in 30 minutes,” he said. Sandro was taken back out through the steel door and into the workshop once again. He was led over to a hoist beside which a large canvas sack was lying. His hands were once again locked into leather mitts that were joined by a short chain in front of him. A leather muzzle was strapped in place preventing him opening his mouth, which, this time, was not invaded by a gag and then spandex hood was pulled over his head, obscuring his vision. He was made to sit down and he felt the canvas sack being pulled up around his naked body. Seconds later he heard a motor starting and he felt himself being lifted up towards the roof and for a brief second he panicked. But as the hoist pulled him upwards the sack twisted and turned gently and he relaxed once more. A moment later the motor stopped and the sack containing the bound and hooded Sandro was now suspended above the workshop. He struggled to make himself as comfortable as possible as he realised that this is what Dirk had meant when he talked of getting the guest “stored.”

A little while later he heard voices as the employees arrived for work followed by sounds of equipment being used as they went about the business of servicing and repairing motorcycles. His cock started to stiffen in its cage as he pictured the scene below him and wondered what the employees would say or think if they knew what was contained in the canvas sack five or six metres above their heads. As time passed, the sack began to get very warm and Sandro felt grateful that he was naked as he began to sweat quite heavily.

The motorcycle service centre opened for just a half day on Saturdays so at 1 o’clock all work ceased and the workshop was closed for the weekend. Sandro became aware of the fact that he could no longer hear any voices and that silence had descended on the workshop. He tried calling out, but the muzzle muffled his voice and, anyway, his cries were met with silence. Time ticked by slowly and he began to wonder how long he could endure his current predicament. Of course there was nothing he could do about it. He was not expected home until Sunday evening at the earliest and he had taken Monday off work as a holiday so he would not be missed by anyone until Tuesday. One part of him cursed himself for getting himself into this situation, but his now raging hard-on testified to the fact that he was aroused by the fact that he was reduced to the status of a captive, bound, hooded and gagged and stored in a canvas sack which was suspended several metres in the air.

Before he could think anymore about his situation Sandro heard a motor starting up and almost immediately the sack began to descend. Moments later he was being pulled out of it and as he tried to steady himself on his feet he was dragged back to the rooms behind the workshop. He was pushed into a wooden high backed chair and his wrists were unchained and quickly secured to the arms. His chest was secured to the back of the chair by means of a wide leather strap, his thighs were tightly strapped down and his ankles secured to the legs of the chair. He tested his bonds but, as before, he was going nowhere. He heard the now familiar sound of a motor starting up and, for a moment, he braced himself expecting to find himself being lifted upwards. But he remained firmly strapped to the chair on the ground. He wondered what was happening but his hood prevented him from seeing anything.

Sandro didn’t have long to wait to find out as his hood was pulled off revealing two mummified forms suspended from the ceiling in front of him. As he looked at these helpless silent figures swinging gently in the air, he saw that Dirk was in the room along with the escorts. Dirk walked over to Sandro and said, “these are our newly arrived guests. They arrived this morning while you were in storage.”

The spectacle of the helpless mummified figures suspended in front of him had an immediate affect on Sandro’s imprisoned cock and he felt a dull pain as his engorged manhood tried yet again to escape from its cage. He tried shifting in his seat to relieve the pain. Dirk who obviously noticed this said, “I see that this interests you somewhat. In fact, I’d say it excites you. When you telephoned me to arrange to come here, I asked you where you had seen our advertisement. When you told me which publication you had seen it in, I knew you were interested in our sort of hospitality. Since your arrival here, I’ve closely monitored your reactions to the treatment handed out to you. That brings me to the point of this conversation. I want to ask you whether you would consider a part time job here as one of the escorts. It would involve working here every weekend.”

Sandro could hardly believe his ears. His raging hard-on was testament, if indeed one was needed, to how he felt about this place. He nodded his head vigorously and at the same time tried saying “yes,” but because of his muzzle it emerged more as a grunt. “That’s a “yes” I take it,” said Dirk with a grin on his face. “Well I must warn you that if you say “yes,” it means accepting all that being an escort entails, and I mean all.” Again Sandro nodded his head vigorously. “In that case,” said Dirk, “I will make arrangements and you will leave here this evening and I shall expect you back next Saturday morning.” He walked over to Sandro and unlocked the muzzle. “Just to be sure, I will ask you again if you are willing to do this and accept all it entails.” Sandro, now free of his muzzle replied at once saying, “yes” in his clear voice and with a broad grin on his face.

Dirk nodded at the escorts who walked over to Sandro and started to release him from the bondage chair. But if Sandro thought he was free to go at that moment he was wrong. He was taken over to what looked like a medical operating table and made to lie on it. One of the escorts went to the corner of the room and returned carrying a leather body sack. While he was doing this, the other one began unlocking the metal chastity cage and removing it from Sandro’s cock. Before he could work out what was happening, he was expertly and quickly strapped in the sack and each strap was padlocked in place. Sandro was confused and started to ask Dirk what was happening but before he could complete his question he was gagged again and the gag locked in place. Finally the sack was opened midway down and his balls and now very erect cock were pulled outside. Dirk, who was watching this said, “I thought it appropriate that before you leave today and before joining my team of escorts, you are entitled to a little reward. Enjoy it, it may be some time before you get a chance to again.”

Sandro was puzzled by this comment, but his erect cock now dripping pre-cum was evidence that he was happy. As he lay tightly bound in the sack, Sandro watched as one of the escorts lubed his cock and then lowered a device from above the table. It resembled a milking machine for cows and suddenly Sandro realised that it was just that, except adapted for human use. He tried to pull away but there was nothing he could do, as the device was first attached to his hard dick and was then switched on. Slowly and inexorably it began to massage his dick driving him to levels of ecstasy and just as he thought he was about to shoot its load life, it shut off before starting again after a pause of a few minutes. It was for Sandro a new form of torture. Each time he approached orgasm, it was denied him. He shouted into his gag begging to be let cum but it was obvious the escorts were experts in cum denial. After what seemed to him like an eternity he was finally granted the release he was so desperate for and he shot his load. But the machine continued its work and as he now shouted into his gag begging for it to stop it continued to massage his cock unmercifully. All the while, Dirk was watching and when at last the machine was switched off he said to Sandro “it was necessary to do that to prepare you for your job as an escort. You will understand that when you leave this evening. Now we will get you prepared for your journey home, oh, and by the way, your bike is in tip top order so you should have no problems with it.”

Sandro was released from the sack, his gag removed and he was helped off the table. He was just pleased that his now soft dick had been freed from what had become a torture. One of the escorts brought his clothing to him but before he had a chance to dress, both the escorts grabbed him and the metal cock cage was locked back in place. He started to object but Dirk interrupted him and said, “you agreed to take the job of escort including all it entailed. I hold the key to your belt so I reckon we can be sure of your attendance here next weekend and every weekend after that! And don’t worry about wearing the belt, you will get used to it. Ask the other escorts.”

Sandro realised he had no alternative but to accept what Dirk had said. He looked at the escorts expecting a reply. Again there was just silence. He looked at them and said, “have you nothing to say?” They silently nodded their heads and as they did so they removed their helmets. Sandro stared in horror as he looked at their hooded heads and saw, for the first time, that they were tightly gagged. He looked at Dirk who just smiled and said, “I did say all it entailed.”

 

THE END

 

Metalbond would like to thank Prisonerx for this fantastic story!  And also thanks to bondagefirst for inspiring it! You can look both these guys up on Recon.