By Mister-X/Spartan

I woke up in a small cage. I started looking around, and found that there was nothing else in the room. There was just me locked into this small cage. It was a small room, but bigger than the cage. I had no idea how I came to be here. I was naked, but wasn’t cold.

I started thinking back to what my last memory was. I was riding my bicycle to the store. I was going to get some groceries for this evening’s dinner. I don’t remember reaching the store. There was something different along the way. What was it? I can’t remember.

I try to think back to each street on the way from my home to the store. My head hurts when I try to think, but I force myself. I remember passing the first block. Then the second. There was nothing unusual in the third block. Did I get to Standard Street? No. So there had to be something in that fourth block. What was it?

Ah! I remember now. There was a small moving van parked half-way along the street. There were two guys dressed in overalls with the name of the moving company on them. One of them was just coming out of the back of the van. I stopped to let him pass in front of me. Only he didn’t pass. Instead he came up to me. Then I felt something from behind me. That’s the last thing I remember. Apparently those two were the reason I’m now in this cage.

Why on earth would they have done that to me? It doesn’t make sense. I’m nothing special. I work at a clothing store, from 9 to 5 every day. It was after I’d gotten home from work at the start of this holiday weekend that this happened. The only outside interest I have is with the local bondage club, which meets the second Friday of every month. Could this have something to do with them? No one there paid particular interest in me. No one had ever said anything to me about my being kidnapped and put into a cage. I don’t understand. Besides, I’m not bound at all, just locked into a small cage in an otherwise empty room. It must be for some other reason.

I’ll take stock of my situation in life. I’m single, mid-40s, own my own home, or rather the mortgage company owns it and I pay them every month. I have checking and savings accounts at the bank, with a little saved up, but nothing much. I have a couple of credit cards that I’ve run up small sums of money on, planning to pay them off each month. I’m paid up on all my bills. I don’t own any pets. I haven’t offended anybody which would cause them to want to do this to me. My parents are dead, and I’m the only child. All in all, I seem to live a pretty boring life. This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. But it’s pretty unsettling.

Am I going to be fed? How do I go about going to the bathroom? And am I supposed to sleep in this small cage? No one has entered or communicated with me since I awakened. I wonder if there’s anybody else here.

Just then I notice some movement. I look at the door and notice that there are a couple of holes at about eye level. The movement had been some eyes looking. After I looked to see where the movement had been, there were no eyes there anymore. Then my eye catches some movement. I notice a flap at the bottom of the door, one like is used for a pet, being lifted. It’s a pretty small flap. Soon there was a tray of food being pushed toward my cage by what looked like a kind of shuffleboard stick. It was pushed up to my cage before the stick was removed back through the flap and the flap was lowered.

I now had my first question answered. This was how I was going to be fed. The food looked good, and seemed to be freshly made. In fact, it seemed to be one of my favorite meals. There were plastic utensils provided as well, plus a can of soda and a napkin. So I soon would have my hunger satiated. I started eating.

When I finished the meal, I started getting drowsy. I sat down in the cage, it not being big enough for me to lie down in. My head started dropping down onto my chest. I think I caught a glimpse of those eyes at the holes again, but I was starting to drop off when I saw that.

I woke up in a different place. I tried moving, but found that I was locked in place. I tried moving my arms, and found that they were tightly restrained behind me. They were crossed, and I didn’t at first understand what they could be in. Then I recognized it. I was in a leather straitjacket. It was buckled tightly around my body, my arms in the long sleeves of the jacket, but being brought around behind my back instead of the usual way of in front of me.

I tried moving my head to look down, and found that I couldn’t. Nor could I see. My head was encased in something, and I couldn’t move it. I tried jerking it, and found that the head covering was attached somehow to the top of whatever I was in. I tried figuring out from the feeling what the head covering must be, and realized that it was leather. I was able to breathe through my nose, but there was something which prevented me from breathing through my mouth. Not only that, but there seemed to be straps attaching it to other parts of my head. I realized that I had a leather muzzle on. I tried opening my mouth, but those straps that went under the front of my chin were on tight, preventing my mouth from opening. There was nothing inside my mouth gagging me. But a muzzle doesn’t restrict the sight. Apparently over the muzzle I had a leather hood on which had nose holes only.

I decided to move my legs, and found that I couldn’t. They were tightly encased in some clothes as well. I tried feeling them, and realized that I must have some skin-tight leather pants on as well. Yet, they must be more than just leather pants. I tried remembering the various clothes, and realized that they had to be leather leg-binders. At least with those, I should be able to hop a little to move. I tried doing that, and found that I couldn’t even jump up. That’s when I realized that my ankles were attached to the bottom of the cage.

I was locked in place. I must have been quite a sight. I was tightly encased in leather from head to toe, nose holes only accessing the outside. I could feel the leather against my skin, so I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Plus I was tightly attached to wherever or whatever I was in, unable to move. I knew that I had eaten, which was the last memory I had before I woke up here. The food I ate must have been drugged to put me out. And I noticed that, whereas before I needed to pee, I didn’t need to now. So at least my basic needs were being cared for. But I still had no idea why this was being done to me, or who was doing it. I had no plans for the holiday weekend, other than to stay at home to do some housework and yard work, so there was nothing pressing for a couple of days. I sure would like to know what’s going on. All I can do is wait and see.

I’m an easy-going guy. I don’t get upset at anything, just taking what life gives me and dealing with it as best I can. So I’m not angry at the way I’m being treated. But I’m very curious as to why I’m being treated this way. There must be a reason. Someone like me doesn’t wind up in circumstances like this for no reason. But I sure can’t figure out what that reason is.

I sense that there is another person near me. I don’t hear any sound. Maybe it’s my imagination. Yet I can’t get rid of this feeling that there’s someone there. Suddenly I feel my suit being opened over my tits. There must be a zipper being opened. Yet, there’s no sound of it being opened. I must have ear plugs in my ears blocking out all sound.

I suddenly feel something being clamped on my left tit. Whatever it is causes instant pain. It’s obviously a severe clamp of some kind. I feel the covering over my tit being closed up some. Then the same feeling happens to my right tit. It’s strange to be having this happening, yet to hear no sound. And I can’t move at all. I’m just standing there looking straight ahead, or at least I would be if I could see.

Next I feel the zipper being opened over my dick. I feel a hand pulling it out. I also realize that it’s hard. I feel something stroking it. That feels so-o-o-o good! Lightly it is being stroked. I’m ready to erupt. But just as I’m about to, the stroking stops. I realize I was being edged. I let out a sigh into my muzzle.

But suddenly I feel something being clamped onto my erect dick. That hurts. Then another is added. And soon there were clamps attached to my balls. I’m in more pain from my tits, since the clamps are starting to take strong affect, pain added to what is coming from my dick and balls. I notice that I’m involuntarily letting out yells into my muzzle. But no sound enters my ears from anything. I feel the opening over my dick being closed some.

I’m left like that for a couple of minutes. My mind slowly comes to grip with the pain that has been added. But then I feel a sensation coming from my dick and balls. It’s pleasant. My dick, which had softened some from the pain of the clamps, is trying to get hard again. My breathing is getting a little fast.

But the pleasant feeling doesn’t last long. Soon the electric waves that had been sent to my dick and balls were increased until it was painful. My mind now had more pain to deal with. At least the pain was steady, so I had no sudden shocks to deal with. But it was still painful, and I had to concentrate not to start yelling uncontrollably into my muzzle.

The painful level was kept for a few minutes until I was able to adjust to always having the pain from that area. That’s when the intensity was upped more. I was starting to yell into my muzzle from that. This was causing the most sensitive parts of my body to be in severe pain. I could try my best to deal with that pain, but I had to involuntarily yell. But again, after a few minutes, I was able to adjust and stopped yelling. That’s when the intensity was increased again.

When I had a chance to think, I wondered whether I was being tested to see how much pain I could take without constantly yelling. It certainly wasn’t pleasant to deal with. I tried to think back to when I had ever been subjected to such pain, and remembered something from my teenage years. There was a sadistic classmate who loved to torture me, upping the intensity on the tortures to see how much I could take. For some reason he was attracted to me. The attraction only went one way. He was bigger than me and would wait for me after school. Since I had a long walk home, I couldn’t avoid him. That’s when I learned to take whatever came along and just endure it. At first I would try to fight it, but found that I just hurt myself when I did that. I was happy to get away from that guy when I graduated from high school and left my parents’ home.

After the intensity had been turned up to a level that my mind could barely tolerate, it was not increased any more. I was left like that for about an hour before I could feel the hood being removed, the ear plugs taken out, and the muzzle being unstrapped. I still couldn’t see, so I figured that I must also have a blindfold on. Since my gag was out, I said, “Who are you and why are you doing this to me?”

The answer came back. “Hi, Doug. Remember me?”

I got a sudden chill up my back as I recognized that voice of my high school tormenter. I sullenly replied, “Hi, Vern.”

Vern started chuckling. “You don’t sound happy to know that I’m back in your life again. You don’t realize that I have been stalking you for the past several months. I’ve been to where you work. I’ve been to the bondage club that you go to. But you never recognized me. My appearance has changed. I doubt that you would recognize me if I took that blindfold off. But on the inside I’m the same guy you went to school with. And now that I’ve become successful in my business career, I can afford to start having fun with you again.”

“Vern, I’ve got my own home and job. I can’t be available for you now.”

“Ah, but you can. I know where you live, and have taken the liberty of making a copy of your house key from the one that you had with you. I’ve checked and found that it works perfectly. So I’ll be there for you when you come home at night until you leave for work in the morning. On weekends we can come to my place, which is so much better equipped.”

“Vern, why are you doing this to me? It’s been years.”

“I’ve never gotten over my attraction to you. I’ve tried having the same kind of fun with others, but they are never the same. There’s only one guy for me, and you’re him.”

“But Vern, I’m not at all attracted to you.”

“So?”

“For a relationship to work it has to work both ways.”

“What is the one outside club you belong to?”

“The local bondage club.”

“And why do you belong to that?”

“To be put into bondage. I see where this is going. Yes, I enjoy that. But you are so much more intense than I like. You like to torture me. I don’t want to be tortured. I just want to be put into bondage.”

“Do you get your rocks off from that?”

“Yes.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes, I don’t have someone else to do that.”

“You will now. Look at the positive side. I can satisfy those needs you have.”

“But you want to torture me, too. I don’t want that.”

“What were those words of yours? ‘For a relationship to work it has to work both ways?’ I have my needs too.”

That stopped me. I had always wanted a bondage partner to restrain me and keep me that way when I wasn’t working. Now I have the opportunity to have someone do that. But there would be an additional price I would have to pay for that. I wondered.

My thoughts were interrupted by his speaking again. “Why don’t we try it this weekend and see how it works?”

“After all the bad memories of when you would do that to me in high school, I don’t want to go through that again.”

“I guess I didn’t word that correctly. We will be trying it this weekend. Try to keep an open mind, and let’s see how it works.”

I just let out a sigh. When he didn’t get an answer, he continued, “Will you promise me to try to keep an open mind and see how it works?”

I finally agreed. All this time the electricity had been kept on at that painfully high level. It was turned off, and the clamps were removed. As the pain from the tit clamps being removed was subsiding I felt my cock being stroked again. I had to admit that he had soft hands, and the feel of him stroking my dick lightly soon got me excited. He had left the zipper covering over my tits open as well, and would periodically lightly rub them. That had always gotten me excited. It didn’t take long for the inevitable to happen. I erupted a mighty amount. I let out an involuntary roar with that.

When it was over, I was basking in the glow of that. I couldn’t believe how good that felt. Then I felt my dick and balls being put into a device. I said, “Hey! Am I going to now be kept locked up all the time?”

“Just until you’re ready to erupt again.”

“Who decides that? Me or you?”

“I do, of course.”

I started to say that I should be the one to decide, when my comments were cut off by the gag part of the muzzle being put back onto my head. Soon the ear plugs and hood were back on as well, and I was left alone to my thoughts. I didn’t like the idea of Vern imposing himself on me, but he was correct in his assessment that I needed a bondage partner. I figured he must have gotten some friends from the bondage club to help him kidnap me. And I could see his point that he had his needs as well, that a relationship can’t be only one way. But I wondered what I would be getting myself into. And I also wondered whether I could deny him. I had a lot of thinking to do.

I had a lot of fun that weekend. Vern didn’t torture me with the clamps and electro anymore. He jacked me off a couple of times a day. He put me in various types of bondage, at first stretched out in an ‘x’ with my wrists in metal shackles up above my head and ankles in metal shackles on the floor, stretched so taut that I couldn’t move a muscle. I slept at night in a leather sleep sack, strings and belts pulled tight over my body with my arms in the internal sleeves, head in the leather muzzle and hood with nose holes only.

The blindfold was always kept on. He said that I was not to look at him. That seemed strange to me, but I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t care.

When the holiday weekend was over and it was time for me to go back to my home, he asked, “Have you made a decision?”

“I’m willing to agree, but I want a written contract stating what will occur.”

“That’s acceptable, but again, I’ll remind you of your statement that ‘for a relationship to work it has to work both ways.’ Why don’t you write a clause of the agreement, something you require, and then I’ll write one, something that I require.”

I thought about this, and agreed. We kept at it, and finally had an agreement that we were both comfortable with. My first requirement was no torture, and Vern surprisingly agreed to it. His first requirement was that I didn’t look at him, which I found to be a strange requirement, but I agreed to it. My next one was that I would need a couple of nights a week for me to do other things, housework, yard work, and shopping. He was reluctant to agree to that, but realized he had no choice. His next requirement was that the rest of the week, and the weekend, I would be his to put into bondage. And so it went.

When we finished, he left me in that room I was in initially, had me back my handcuffed hands next to the door for him to unlock them, and left the keys to the other restraints in the room for me to get out of, as well as my clothes. He had told me how to get out of his house and how to get back to mine on public transportation. There was no sign of him when I left. At least I now knew where he lived.

When I got home from work that next night, I was greeted in my home with restraints, including the ever-present blindfold, which I was required to put on, and a list of instructions of what to do. After I had complied, we were back at it again. In the morning, after the restraints on the sleep sack had been removed, he left me the key to unlock the hood and get the muzzle and blindfold off. He was not there when I was finished. He had told me that he was in one of my spare bedrooms, one which had a lock on it which I did not have the key for. I knew better than to try to get into it. I headed off to work.

Vern kept up his part of the agreement. I kept up mine. I was enjoying it. He surprised me. He was not the same kind of guy who had harassed me in high school. I wondered what had happened to him to make him change. I actually liked him now.

After a few months of this, there was an incident. Vern had been locking me tightly in his stand-up cage at his home on the weekend when I heard a loud crash. I did not have the ear plugs in, and was able to hear it. Obviously Vern had fallen. At first I didn’t hear any sound afterwards. I was getting worried that he had injured himself and that we would both be unable to get help. Finally I started hearing him stirring. After a few minutes he was back to continuing to restrain me.

When I got the chance I asked, “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

He simply responded, “That should not have happened.”

But that was the first in an increasingly more frequent series of such ‘incidents.’ Finally I said, “Vern, you’re starting to have more and more of these, and they are occurring more frequently. At this rate one of these times you’re not going to be able to move, and I won’t either. What will happen to us then?”

He didn’t respond for a while. Finally his response was to remove my blindfold. After my eyes had gotten adjusted to the light, I took a look at Vern. I was shocked. He was on crutches. I looked at his legs, and saw that they had withered.

After I’d finished looking at him, showing my reaction in my facial expressions, something I’d never been able to hide, he said, “I’ve got muscular dystrophy. It’s degenerative. Soon I’ll be confined to a wheelchair. The usual progression will cause me to eventually lose most of my ability to do my normal functions. I’ve always wanted to top you again, since that was the fondest memory I had of my youthful, energetic life, and I wanted to do it while I still had the ability to do so. But it’s gotten to the point where it will be difficult for me to do that anymore. I’ve always been someone who takes whatever he wants, but I’m heading into a period of my life when I can’t do that.”

He was so sad when he was saying this. I just sat there numb. Finally I got up and hugged him. I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. There will still be some things you will be able to do. I’ve sure appreciated all you’ve done for me, and it’s time for me to repay you. I have to admit that I was reticent at first to agree to having you back in my life, since I kept bad memories of the Vern I knew in high school. But I really like the Vern that has been in my life these last few months.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“What’s sympathy got to do with it? These past few months have been the happiest of my life. I want to continue living these happy times as long as I can. I don’t want them taken away from me just as you don’t want them taken away from you.”

So now we still have our relationship. Vern is not able to do as much topping of me as he had been able to do, but he is still able to do a lot. Weights are a problem for him, as well as reaching up high. We now do more things at a lower level. I take care of most of the lifting.

Vern is starting to need assistance for some of his basic functions. I’ve quit my job to spend the time with Vern. To me it is worth it. He has added my name to his checking account so that I can afford to spend the time with him. It’s strange how life works. I finally have found that special someone in my life, and it’s someone who will be going out of my life, someone who I had grown up despising. Now I just want to spend as much time with him as I can.

 

Metal would like to thank Mister-X/Spartan for this story!