By bondagegimp

Going for a walk

I wake up when Bob gets up and realize I barely slept. The sun is shining into the room. The night was hard. I could hardly sleep in the tight restraints, but that was probably also due to the heavy thoughts that were troubling me. Yesterday was really too much. I can’t do this. My mind is made up: As soon as I can make the decision, I will leave Bob.

My only concern is whether he’ll actually allow it. Sure, he’ll ostensibly give me the choice. Bob has never lied to me; he keeps his word. On the surface. Because in the end, he always gets what he wants. Will he manipulate me? He still has plenty of time to brainwash me. Or will he trick me somehow? In any case, he’ll want to make it look like I made the decision myself. I spent the whole night wondering how he’d go about it.

Bob comes back to bed with me, where I’m still wrapped in the leather straps. He lies down next to me and cuddles. I don’t respond, trying to keep my distance, not letting myself be seduced. Still, it feels good. Bob plays with me until my cock is hard again. “Yesterday wasn’t easy for you. I thought we’d take a little trip today. I wanted to show you some of the beautiful scenery. We’ll leave after breakfast!”

Bob always manages to surprise me. I’m happy to finally be able to get out again. He won’t be able to lead me on a leash, or in handcuffs. A little bit of freedom. But I remain suspicious—I still remember the “party” well.

After breakfast in the usual manner, in light chains, Bob takes me back up to the tiled room to “dress for the walk.” I already suspected there was a catch… With the collar, he secures me standing in the room, hands behind my back in handcuffs. First, Bob brings a full-body rubber suit, including socks, mitts, and a mask. He oils the suit well so that I slide into it easily. But I immediately notice that I slip a bit in the rubber socks. He pulls the suit up to my waist, pulls my balls and cock through the corresponding holes, and puts a wide leather belt with a few rings around my waist – of course, it is locked. To put on the sleeves, Bob frees my hands – but not before first chaining my feet slightly spread. Now he comes closer to me, again I try not to be too tempted, but I can’t resist. It is so rare that I can actually touch Bob. I am almost always enclosed in bondage mitts.

Bob is wearing only very short sports shorts, like those worn by soccer players in the 80s, made of shiny nylon, with stripes on the sides and a slit. In the shorts, he has an incredible bubble butt, and I love the point where his thighs just come out of the shorts at the point where the muscle broadens. The shorts are so tight in the front that the contours of his cock and balls are clearly visible through the thin material. I’ve seen them on him several times before, and they always make me so hot, even today. He comes very close to me and lets me touch him extensively.

First, I grab his pants; this soft, smooth material filled with firm muscle feels incredibly good. My cock gets hard instantly. I let my hands glide over his ass cheeks, knead them a bit, stroke his thighs, and even reach under his pants. I dare to touch and stroke his bulge. His cock also gets hard in his pants. Then I let my hands wander over his bare torso, kneading his pectoral muscles, his shoulders, his upper arms. To grasp them all, I need both hands. I feel his upper arm for a long time, feeling his muscles. Bob playfully tenses his arm, and I feel his biceps harden. I try to move my head closer, but the collar chained upwards holds me back. Bob notices this, moves slightly toward me, and allows me to run my lips along his chest and upper arm, even gently licking a little with my tongue.

But then Bob steps back. His cock has become so hard that it has pushed out the bottom of one of the trouser legs. He holds the sleeves of the suit out to me. I’m a little disappointed—I would have liked to go on. The thought of being locked in the suit right now makes me sad, but I know I have no choice, so I hold out my hands, making fists as he instructs. The sleeves are also well oiled, and my arms slide in without resistance until my fists find their place in the pouches at the end of the sleeves. Bob immediately pulls the suit up over my shoulders and zips it up on the back, all the way to my neck. This presses my arms so tightly into the mitts that I can’t pull them out. He also secures the mitts with thick leather straps around my wrists.

While Bob goes into the next room, I can take a closer look at the new rubber gloves: They’re firmly attached to the suit, but also thickly padded. Comfortable, but my fingers have once again become completely useless; they can’t grip or feel anything. I could try to bite through the rubber with my teeth, but firstly, the rubber seems quite thick, and secondly, I wouldn’t get very far; I’d only annoy Bob without achieving anything. Instead, I grab my still-erect cock with the gloves, playfully trying to jerk off, but with the gloves, I have hardly any grip. Still, it feels good.

But Bob is already back, just laughing at my helpless attempt. He’s brought a hoodie and a few small items, takes most of it off, and comes very close to me with a few things until his body pushes me backward, so far that I can no longer hold on and am left hanging in the chains of the collar and leg irons. Now I recognize the one object. It’s that nasty silicone gag again, filling my entire mouth; no, a little different. This one has a breathing hole. I start to beg, even trying to ward off Bob’s next move, but with my hands in my mitts, it’s a pretty helpless attempt. And I know by now that it’s useless. If Bob has a plan, he’ll go through with it. Reluctantly, I let him shove the gag into my mouth until it fills my entire oral cavity and only the breathing tube sticks out between my lips.

Next, he takes a piece of foil about the size of my palm. It’s one of those new plasters that are as thin as cling film and conform completely to the contours. I have an inkling of what’s coming, and yes, it has a small, round hole in the appropriate place for the breathing tube, and otherwise it completely seals my mouth shut. I have no way of prying my lips apart! The gag is now sealed in my mouth. I’m slowly starting to feel really queasy again.

Bob now steps back, and I can stand up again, which is a small relief, as the collar has cut quite badly into my neck. While Bob briefly turns around, I put my mitts to my mouth, trying to loosen the plaster, but it’s impossible. Conversely, I couldn’t bite through the mitts either; my mouth is hopelessly taped shut. Bob is already back with me, takes off my collar, and simply lets it dangle in the chains. From behind, he pulls the mask over my head and, coming from above, closes the zipper on the mask until it meets the one on my back, connecting the two with a small lock. The breathing tube of the gag finds a corresponding hole in the mask, two small tubes are again inserted into my nostrils, and luckily, my eyes have normal eye openings! The mask fits tightly. Even without the plaster, I could hardly open my mouth, but this way, it seems even tighter, even more hopeless. Bob now comes with a funnel and a water bottle and pours a liter of water into me.

Next, Bob reaches for the gray hoodie. He holds it out to me invitingly, and I obediently stretch out my arms so he can pull it on. It feels strange wearing a sweatshirt over the rubber. It also looks strange how the padded mitts stick out from the sleeves, like alien hands. My head must look similar in the black mask, sticking out of the top of the gray hoodie. Once the hoodie is properly fitted, the first thing Bob does is put the collar back on me, then takes one of my hands and guides it into the hoodie’s pouch pocket on my stomach. The pocket obviously has a hole inside, because Bob can now attach my hand to the belt around my waist. He does the same with my other hand. I’m actually a bit impressed; it’s an ingenious bondage: my hands are now bound in front of my stomach, in mitts, and none of it is visible; everything is hidden in the hoodie’s pouch pocket.

Bob examines the result with satisfaction. Next, he comes behind me again. I was wondering why the suit had some kind of sheath on my ass, but it became clear to me when Bob started inserting it into my hole. It was some kind of internal condom or something. Once Bob had stuffed it a little bit into my hole with his fingers, he used his cock to help and fucked it deep inside me. He then continued fucking me a little longer. It felt different, unusual, but also quite hot.

Bob soon stops, however, and removes my ankle cuffs. He pulls very special, almost knee-length pants over my rubber suit. They are made of very thick rubber; in fact, the rubber seems to consist of two glued layers. Several elastic struts are glued between the layers, running primarily along the inside of my thighs and through my crotch. In the middle, there is an attachment for a plug. Bob tries out different sizes before settling on a moderately thick one, pulling up the very tight-fitting pants, and securing them with some straps. My cock and balls are pulled through an opening that is also integrated into the weave of the struts. Curious, I move my legs a little and immediately notice how every movement of my legs is transmitted via the struts to the plug and the cock ring. The cock ring massages my cock and balls. Most importantly, the plug moves violently back and forth in my hole, even with the slightest movement of my legs, with the usual mix of different feelings: kind of horny, but also annoying and uncomfortable, so that my lower abdomen constantly tries to push the plug out. And I’m supposed to go for a walk like this?!!

But Bob isn’t finished yet. Next comes the electric device around my cock and balls, which I’ve already had the chance to experience, and then the obligatory diaper. This time, however, it seems a bit thicker and stiffer; it definitely pushes my legs further apart than before. I could already only walk with a slight waddle in those. That will be even more difficult with this one. The diaper is now held taut with simple but tight-fitting rubber pants, before Bob puts on some sweatpants, also gray, to match the hoodie.

He disappears briefly into another room and comes back with my sneakers, puts them on, and finally frees me from the chains. He takes me by the arm and leads me to the large mirror. I can hardly believe what I see: I look almost normal, just a person in a tracksuit, my hands loosely in the pockets of my hoodie. The only thing that contrasts with this almost everyday appearance is my head, an anonymous black ball with a few holes in it. It ‘s a somewhat bizarre sight. Bob leaves me alone for a moment. I move in front of the mirror, amazed at the contrast between my outward appearance and how it feels on the inside. The tight suit, locked up, my hands in my mitts, chained to my stomach, the gag, and above all these pants with the plug that moves violently in the hole with every step. And of course the diaper, which only allows me to waddle with my legs slightly spread. It’s the only thing that’s visible from the outside, the thick bundle in my gray sweatpants. It also rustles a little when I walk.

But if it weren’t for the black mask, no one from the outside would be able to see the situation I’m in inside! Another devilish idea from Bob for the “walk”!

The question of the black mask is also being clarified, because Bob comes to me with a skin-colored real face mask. He puts it over my black mask, and I’m genuinely surprised. You have to get very close to recognize it as a mask. Even from a good meter away, it looks like a real face! Only the eyes are confusing: two black holes behind which you can still see the lower mask. The breathing tube of the gag ends somewhere between the lips and is not visible.

Finally, Bob puts sunglasses on me that can be hooked onto the side of the mask and pulls up the hood of my hoodie. Now the illusion is complete. Just a person in a tracksuit, walking a bit awkwardly, and at second glance, you can tell he’s wearing a diaper.

“You should drink something before we leave. Don’t get dehydrated.” Funnel, and another liter. Bob obviously wants me to make good use of the diaper today. We go to the car, and I’m allowed to sit in the passenger seat — which isn’t entirely comfortable with the thick plug. Still, I’m glad to be sitting here next to Bob; I lean against him. Yes, I know, I wanted to keep my distance, but it calms me to feel Bob. The whole process of getting dressed was worrying me again. And the whole way he tied me up again shows his compulsion to control, or rather, his enjoyment in making even simple tasks difficult for me, turning them into a mixture of pleasure and torture. A walk, but underneath a rubber suit, restraints, plug, diaper, gag, and, for ultimate control, an electric shocker on my balls.

This is sick! The only thing stopping me from escaping is the electric shocker around my balls. Everything else he does is just to make my walk more difficult, to torture me. Control as an end in itself. Although… it makes walking more difficult for me. I have to walk a little carefully in the slippery booties. My hands tied in front of my stomach are also a hindrance, as are the plug and diaper.

How powerful is the electric shocker? I felt it a few times, for example, when I was crawling on all fours on the first day. It was painful, yes, but not so much that I fell over. If it really came down to it, would it stop me from escaping? Or does it just hurt like hell, but you could just grit your teeth and get through it somehow?

Is Bob afraid I might run away from him? Because if there’s one field where I might physically outlive Bob, it’s running. I was always a good runner, always one of the fastest. And didn’t Bob mention it to me once, when we were relaxing in the garden? He squeezed my toned thighs and also commented on my long legs. And then he casually asked me if I did any sports, and I told him that I often cycle and run, and that I was always good at those things.

Was he discreetly checking whether I could run away from him? Perhaps he also considers it possible that, when in doubt, I’d run faster than him, be more agile than him with his huge body and thick thighs. He’s a bit clumsy when he runs. He’s stronger than I am, much stronger, no question about it. But I’m more agile, nimbler. The restraints, the plug, the suit, are they supposed to slow me down? Does he not trust the electric shocker? Is this perhaps my chance to escape today? Perhaps my only one, because I doubt he’ll give me a real choice in nine days.

I look at Bob, observe him. I can’t figure him out. Right now he’s being so sweet again. He looks at me briefly, a moment longer than is actually good while driving. It’s a doting look. The whole time , one of his hands is with me, gently stroking me or simply resting on my thigh. The landscape is truly beautiful! Rolling green hills, scattered forests. Very few houses. As we drive through the countryside, Bob tells me about the area, how he grew up nearby, what trips he’s taken, and which ones he wants to take with me. It’s an absurd situation. He acts as if I were his boyfriend in a new relationship, but I’m his prisoner, his toy; sometimes I almost feel like his pet. But suddenly he’s talking to me as if we were equal. And I can’t even answer! I can’t even get a word in edgewise through this gag! And right now, my bladder is so full of pressure. Bob forces me to drink water and then refuses to let me go to the bathroom! With a little concentration, I manage to take a first swig into my diaper.

Bob is so contradictory sometimes. I think he’s just testing my limits again, trying to see how far he can go. He’s realized he went too far yesterday. Now he’s backpedaling. A trip, a walk. But what kind of trip is that when one person beneath the outermost layer is in a prison? And yet it works. It’s beautiful to drive through this landscape. It’s liberating to get out of the house, this house with its dungeons, its restraints and torture devices in practically every room. The view of the landscape frees the soul, even if the body remains imprisoned. It’s the opposite of having to wear a mask when I’m surrounded by nothing but darkness for hours.

Yes, that game again: I see what’s happening, but I can’t resist its effects. The mind doesn’t control the emotions. Emotions are independent. Or do they sometimes even control the mind? Sense or sensibility? But even if I’m in this suit with all its little agonizing details, and I also know that Bob is doing this to me, I can’t resist it: Driving around here, enjoying the scenery, feeling Bob’s hand, it makes me feel better. He’s realized he’s gone too far and now wants me to feel better, and he’s succeeding!

But I remain suspicious. Is he behaving this way now because he’s genuinely sorry he went too far? Is this all a sex game for him, testing my limits, but always with the idea that I should have some fun too? After all, yesterday he also triggered an extreme and completely new level of lust in me. I would never have thought an orgasm possible under such circumstances. And it was amazing. And today he wants to catch me without letting the tension curve break. Or is he behaving this way because he wants me to make my own “free” decision in nine days and, of course, wants me to choose a life as his slave? If that ‘s true, how will his behavior change when I really am his slave? Will he no longer have any scruples, or will he continue to be affectionate after the torture? Will we continue to cuddle, will I sleep in his bed (and not under it!)? Or the lovely afternoon breaks in the garden, on the blanket. Those are often the best!

But wait, how absurd is the question of whether I would choose a life as his slave? No man can be so overwhelming that I’d give him my life! Regardless of whether Bob is feigning this behavior or is serious, that can’t be the right choice! And since he won’t leave me a choice in the worst case scenario, I should seize the opportunity today if it presents itself.

I look at Bob. Despite everything, the decision isn’t easy for me. Yes, mind and emotions, sense and sensibility. It breaks my heart to think that I might run away today. Yes, despite everything, I’ve fallen in love with this guy, on a level beyond reason. And yet, it’s the only reasonable decision. I have to stay focused, keep my eyes open, and seize my opportunity when it arises.

We’re now on a very narrow road and come to a patch of woods. Bob pulls the car into a parking lot, unbuckles me, and helps me out. Various hiking trails branch off from the parking lot. Bob takes me by the shoulder, and we set off. At times we walk side by side in silence, but Bob keeps turning to me and telling me stories from his life. We keep passing places with beautiful views. There we stop or sit on a bench. Bob puts his arm around me, and together we silently enjoy the beautiful view. I lay my head on his shoulder. I try to suppress the melancholy that arises within me at the thought that I will run away today — if the opportunity arises.

But I don’t see any opportunity. Where am I supposed to run where Bob won’t catch up with me at some point? I’m confident I can run faster for a short distance. But in the long run, all the nasty details of my bondage will hinder me too much, and Bob will catch up with me. Just running here on the path now won’t do any good.

Then suddenly a group of people comes towards us. This is the solution!! I have to reach them somehow; they’ll quickly spot the restraints and see that something is wrong and help me. They’re still far away, but we’re closing in. But before we can meet, Bob gently pushes me into a path that branches off to the side. I’m taken by surprise; I don’t know what to do. Shout? Barely a sound comes through the gag. Run? No, the group is still too far away, it’s no use. My chance is over; I’ll have to wait for the next one.

We continue through the forest. The walking isn’t as bad as I feared, but it’s still very strenuous and at times annoying. I have to concentrate while walking so I don’t slip in my rubber socks. But at least I quickly got used to having my hands tied in front of my stomach. Only the plug in my hole, which moves back and forth with every step, becomes more tiring with every kilometer. My hole feels stretched out, my prostate is overstimulated. And the waddling gait, enforced by the diaper, is so unfamiliar that some of the muscles in my legs are already hurting. It’s sure to give me severe muscle soreness. Therefore, I’m grateful for every break, forcing Bob to sit down briefly at every bench along the path. I’m not on a leash, so I can at least move around on my own. Bob allows it, sits down next to me, cuddles me, but after a brief pause, urges me to keep going. Finally, we reach a clearing with a beautiful waterfall flowing into a lake. It’s a magnificent sight; I’m genuinely impressed, just standing there, marveling at the beauty of nature. Bob is standing behind me, hugging me.

There are various pieces of furniture around the waterfall, including wide wooden loungers. Bob pulls me to one of these loungers, lies down on it, and pulls me close so that I’m lying on top of him. We have a view of the waterfall, the sun shining on us through the leaves, and I’m lying on top of Bob, who is hugging me tightly. He goes to his backpack and grabs a sandwich. He gets me the funnel and another bottle of milky liquid. While he’s eating the sandwich, he pours the liquid into me. It’s some kind of thin, flavorless mush, but certainly very nutritious. Then he washes it all down with another bottle of water. My already full bladder feels the added pressure. I hope Bob doesn’t notice when I slowly and carefully pee into my diaper. But Bob does. “Good boy, let it go. Let go. You have to learn to let go.” He presses my head to his chest, and even through the two masks, it feels good. I let it run, feel how it gets warm in the diaper, feel Bob under me, around me and feel very relaxed.

Suddenly, more people come into the clearing, obviously two straight couples. At first they don’t see us, but they sit down on benches diagonally across from them. Now they see us, greet us friendly, and Bob greets them back. They look at us a little curiously: two guys, tightly embraced. I wonder if there’s anything I can do, but my hands are tied, my legs are between Bob’s legs, and he’s holding me tightly in his arms. My gag barely lets out a sound. At that moment, Bob also switches on the electric device on my cock! The gentle, stimulating version, the tingling that makes me instantly horny, but at a pretty high level. I writhe briefly with pleasure, a moan slips out. The group looks at us again, whispers, laughs a little, and after a short break, continues on their way.

The escape

Bob continues the stimulation for a while, and I writhe more now, trying to rub myself against Bob until I’m close to orgasm. Then he turns off the stimulation, packs everything back into his backpack, helps me up, and we continue walking. Now the stimulation from the plug again. My cock is still hard, so the cock ring grips it tighter, and every step also pulls on my cock and balls. On the one hand, it’s pleasurable, but on the other, it’s now also uncomfortable, constantly alternating.

After a while, we see people coming towards us again. Two of them, still far away, but I don’t see any junctions nearby where we could turn off. We approach each other, and I consider what to do, not having a firm plan yet.

Then, a few hundred meters ahead of us, the two of them turn off onto side path. At first, I’m disappointed, then I see my chance. My heart is pounding with excitement. Maybe 50 meters before the junction, I start running! I run after them! There, now the electric shocks are coming. Not so strong at first, then getting stronger and stronger. Really painful, but I can bear it! There’s the junction, I turn off, after them. As I turn, I look at Bob; he seems surprised, just standing there. I hesitate for a moment, doubtful.

My heart sinks. Can I do it? But now I ‘ve started, don’t give in now. I keep running, into the path. I see the two people a few hundred meters ahead of me. I try to call out, but all I get is a gentle “hmmmmm” – they don’t notice me and just keep walking. It’s not easy to run; the slippery rubber socks, the plug, everything is getting in the way; the electric shocks are getting stronger and stronger, extremely painful! It takes a lot of effort, but I manage. Now the pain doesn’t get any worse. And suddenly it’s gone. Am I out of reach? Is that possible? I turn around briefly, but Bob is nowhere to be seen. I keep running, almost catching up with them. Now they hear me, turn around. They look a bit confused, and stop.

Now I reach them. They are two men, around 40, one with red hair, the other with dark hair. As I approach they ask if everything is OK. All I can say in reply is “hmmmm.” When I get to them they look at me very suspiciously. I’m out of breath, catch my breath for a moment, and turn around nervously to see if Bob is coming closer, but there is no sign of him. “Look, I think he’s wearing a mask.” The red-haired guy comes closer too, and now they both look at my face. “Should we take the mask off?” I nod. Yes, yes!! They pull the hood of the hoodie down, see the zip at the back and take off my outer mask. When they see the black rubber mask underneath , the dark-haired man whistles through his teeth in surprise. He sees the lock on the zip , lifts the hoodie a little and sees the rubber suit underneath. He laughs briefly.

“Matt, did you see that? He’s completely encased in rubber, probably his legs too. Yes, you can see it down at the ankles too! In rubber from head to toe!” Meanwhile, Matt examines my mask and discovers the breathing tube . “Is that a gag? Is that why you can’t speak?” I nod, a little uncertain. Matt slaps me on the ass. “John, he’s wearing a diaper too! And what a big one!” “Yes, and look, his hands are tied in front of his stomach, under his hoodie.” I’m starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the situation. The two guys are a bit too curious for me, too inquisitive, looking at everything closely. I almost get the feeling they’re making fun of me, but at the same time, they’re examining everything with great fascination. John grabs my crotch, I recoil, but Matt holds me from behind. “His cock is pretty hard, I think he likes it.” I look nervously along the path. Now I almost wish Bob was here! “Who knows, maybe he’s a runaway slave? We should take a closer look!”

The kidnapping

What’s going on?? Who are these two guys?? This is a setup, a trap set by Bob! This can’t be a coincidence! Can it? Where is Bob? Why isn’t he coming? I feel uncomfortable around these two guys, I try to pull myself away, but they push me to the ground. Matt goes to his backpack, and out of the corner of my eye I see leather restraints. He puts them on my feet, with a short chain in between. A thick leather collar goes around my neck, with a chain attached to it as a leash. I scream into the gag in desperation, wriggle around, but I have no chance. The two of them aren’t nearly as strong as Bob, but I can see they’re pretty athletic. Besides, there are two of them and I’m tied up, it’s hopeless.

“So, are you trying to run away? Who do you belong to, who wrapped you up so nicely? We’d better take you home first, then we can sort this out calmly. We can’t take the gag out for now anyway. And then we can take a look at what else is hidden under your clothes.”

John helps me up and then pulls me by the chain, continuing down the path. I turn around in despair. Where’s Bob? I’d much rather have Bob than these two. They scare me, they’re violent. With Bob, at least I had some idea what I was getting myself into. Where is he?? Why doesn’t he come after me? It can’t be a coincidence that those two guys were here! He’s playing with me again, wants to teach me a lesson. Bob wants to show me how superior he is, that he’s always one step ahead of me. I resist the pull on the collar, being a bit stubborn, but Matt pushes me from behind. With tears in my eyes, I search for Bob in the woods, hoping he’ll jump out of the bushes and rescue me. But Matt loses his patience, pulls a blindfold out of his pocket, and puts it on me. “Now, behave yourself, or do we have to give you a good beating to get you to comply?”

Discouraged and helpless, I surrender and let the two of them drag me blindly through the woods in my bonds. At some point we stop; I hear car doors. They push me onto a surface and then further, forcing my head down. It’s cramped; I feel bars around me. Are they putting me in a dog cage in the car?? The cage door closes behind me. It’s so small that I can only kneel here, huddled up. I feel miserable. Yes, Bob tied me up too and forced me to do things. But not only are the two of them much rougher than Bob — they aren’t Bob! Bob was sometimes harsh, but always loving too! And he was always interested in my pleasure, too. He always created situations that eventually gave me pleasure. I don’t see any of that with Matt and Josh; they’re just rough and mean! And even though a kidnapping was always a fantasy of mine I don’t want it now! Not like this! It just scares me!

The car drives off, and I feel so lost. Tears well up in my eyes. I miss Bob so much! And he’s my only hope. He’s the only one who knows I’m even in the area. He’s the only one who could be looking for me. Why didn’t he come after me? Did he give me up? Was it a test to see if I was loyal? Does he not want me anymore? Did he give me away to those two?

No, that can’t be! Bob is at least as attached to me as I am to him! He won’t give up on me! I tell myself this as best I can, to at least keep some courage together. Suddenly I feel a gentle tingling on my cock. Is Bob nearby? Is he looking for me, has he found me? The tingling isn’t enough to make my cock hard right now; I’m still too desperate for that. But it’s a small ray of light, a tiny bit of hope! I imagine Bob is thinking of me, wants to send me a message. I miss Bob so much!

To be continued…

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Click to start at Part 1

***

The story is a mixture of different fantasies. Some scenes I have experienced myself in a similar, usually somewhat more harmless form. Some scenes came to my mind when I saw photos or videos of sessions, and some scenes were inspired by stories I read here or elsewhere on the internet. However, the feelings I am describing are to a large extent what I have actually experienced.

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Romeo: bondagegimp

Recon: bondagegimpSTGT