By Bondagegimp

Visit

We’re lying on the large blanket in the garden. I feel the sun on my skin. Yes, on my skin! For once, I’m not wearing a rubber suit. My skin is allowed to breathe, at least partially. But my head is once again wrapped in the thickly padded leather hood. The earplugs are still in, as is the gag, and my eyes are still taped shut. But the rubber hood has also been removed. And I’m in the rubber straitjacket. But at least I’m not wearing a suit underneath.

My legs are spread quite wide, almost painfully wide, with a spreader bar. My head is in Bob’s lap. Jad sits or lies a little further down, near my legs. When Bob strokes my head, it creates a noise in the hood, a whooshing or scratching. This drowns out all other sounds. Only when Bob isn’t touching my head at all can I hear a little bit of what’s outside. Not much; I just hear muffled voices. Bob and Jad are talking. Sometimes they laugh. I can’t understand a word, but I get a certain vibe.

They’re obviously chatting. They’re happy. I’m lying between them, on my back. It’s not about me; I’m secondary. Bob strokes my head now and then, absentmindedly playing with my nipples. But only incidentally. Jad is more into it. He plays with my cock, occasionally with my hole. But not very focused. Sometimes he just strokes my thighs. Before that, however, he tightly tied my balls and my cock with a thin string. First the base of my cock, really tight, so that the cock stays nice and stiff. Then each ball individually. They’re probably sticking out stiffly to the side. It hurts a little, but not much. Only when Jad squeezes them I want to sit up, curl up, assume a protective posture. But Bob pushes me back down into his lap every time. Most of the time, though, Jad is rather gentle, stroking the skin of my sack, which is stretched taut over my balls, with his fingernails – it tickles a little, but it’s also hot.

I sense Jad pulling himself together. He’s gentler than he’d like to be. He’s completely fixated on Bob now. So much so that sometimes I’m just a side issue to him. I noticed it at the party. He admires Bob, does a lot to please him. Deep down, he probably wants Bob to take him for a ride. But his macho ego won’t allow that thought. He has to prove to himself that he’s the strong one. That’s why he’s sometimes so uncontrollably harsh. He’s not entirely at peace with himself.

Bob knows this. It was just a little game. Jad was allowed to get me out of the cell. Maybe Bob wanted to show me what a great Master he is compared to others. Or he just wanted to give Jad a little gift. I don’t know. At least I was really shocked at first when Jad showed up in my cell. But apart from the few kicks, nothing happened. Jad pulled me out of the cell by the collar and then up the stairs into the tiled room. I was extremely relieved when I finally realized Bob was there too. From then on, I was relaxed again, even though Jad was allowed to do a lot of things afterwards—undress me, shower me, shave me, wash up, etc. Jad enjoyed it, you could definitely tell. He couldn’t keep his hands off me. But Bob was always there. He reprimanded Jad when he got too rough.

To take off the rubber suit, they also had to remove my thick leather hood, because the rubber hood underneath the leather hood was part of the suit. But through my taped eyes, nothing could be seen; not even a shred of light came through. The leather hood was immediately put back on anyway as well as the thick iron collar with the chain. But it was much more comfortable without the rubber hood underneath the leather hood. And after the soaping, which Jad performed with particular dedication, I was put back in the straitjacket. For once, no plug was stuffed into my hole, and there was no diaper or catheter either.

After showering, we went out into the garden, where we’re lying now. I don’t know what they’re talking about, but the muffled voices in the background are somehow soothing. It’s pleasant to lie between them and be stroked. I feel like a pet being stroked a little bit in passing. My cock is gradually getting hard. Jad is currently playing with the head of my cock. Now I hear him call out loudly, and shortly after, I feel rubber on my leg. I’ve had the feeling the whole time that someone else was there.

Now he puts his head, which appears to be in a rubber hood, on my leg and starts licking one of my tied-up balls. He takes it into his mouth and sucks on it. It’s briefly painful; I want to sit up, but Bob presses me tightly against him. Jad continues playing with the head of my cock; now they seem to be concentrating on me again. Jad brings me almost to orgasm but then lets go. Only after a pause does he continue, again almost to orgasm, and then stops. He does this a few more times until I beg into the gag. Bob puts his head close to my ear. “You won’t cum again until you decide, boy.” Jad continues his game, but soon the two of them resume their conversation, and I’m just a sideshow again, being caressed in passing. Only the third, possibly a slave of Jad’s, continues to work on my balls and cock with his mouth – very gently, but at least in a way that keeps my cock hard the whole time.

Training

Now they seem to be talking about me again. Jad sticks several fingers into my hole, apparently wanting to demonstrate something. Now Bob stands up and turns me onto my stomach. Jad and Bob are now sitting next to me, working on my hole with their fingers, stretching and pulling. I don’t really like it; I found it much more pleasant before when they just took care of me on the side. Now I suspect they have something planned for me again, and that’s rarely pleasant for me.

After fiddling around with my hole and discussing it for a while, they replace the spreader bar with a short chain, stand me up on my feet, and pull me upstairs by the chain to the playroom. At one point, I almost trip over Jad’s slave, who is also being taken along, but who appears to be on all fours—so maybe he’s Jad’s doggy-slave? In the tiled room, they strap me to the rack so that I’m bent over on my knees, making my hole easily accessible. They play with my hole for a while, lubricating it with plenty of lubricant. Now I feel a plug, but it must be huge. It barely moves an inch into my hole. But they keep pushing. I can hear Bob in my ear, so it must be Jad pushing the plug in. Bob tells me to relax, stroking my back. But I shake my head, begging into the gag. The plug is too big! It’s going to tear me in half!

But the pressure doesn’t let up. I feel my hole stretching further, painfully. Then, suddenly, the thickest part is passed, and my sphincter sucks the plug in with such a powerful jerk that I groan loudly. I hear Bob and Jad laughing. The plug feels so huge in my hole, and the shaft must be quite thick too, because it stretches my sphincter enormously. My body fights with all its might against the intruder, trying to push it out, but failing. I shake my head and scream loudly into the gag. Bob and Jad are now standing next to me, stroking my back and legs. Bob holds my head briefly, and I hear him through the hood. “If you can’t stand the plug, you can push it out. You just have to make a little effort and concentrate. But we won’t pull it out!”

I’m a bit stunned. Is this the game? I try again, pushing with all my might. The plug moves outwards a little, stretching the hole. The pain of the stretch makes me recoil, and the plug slides back into the hole with a jerk. I make a second attempt. Now I know I have to push past the point of pain. It moves again, the pain comes, but I keep at it and finally manage to push it out! With momentum and probably a loud plop, it flies out of my hole. Bob and Jad laugh loudly. I’m exhausted from the effort, breathing deeply, but at the same time very relieved to have the thing out. Bob and Jad continue to stroke my legs and back, Jad’s doggy licks my cock and my still-tied balls, which dangle freely down.

But Bob and Jad don’t give me a break; their fingers are already in my hole again, playing around. After a few minutes, I feel the plug again. I beg violently into my gag, but they are relentless and push the fat thing back into my hole. Again, my intestines contract, resist, wanting to push it out, but again it takes an enormous additional effort until I painfully push the monster out again. And again, both of them play with my hole with their fingers for a while, and again the plug comes in. My screams into the gag don’t stop them; it’s pushed back in mercilessly.

I recognize the pattern. I try to control myself and don’t push the plug out. They’ll push it back in anyway, and the in and out is the most painful part. But my intestines can’t take it for long. The feeling of having to push it out gets stronger and stronger. After a few minutes, it’s so unbearable that I summon all my strength and push it out. The pause until Bob and Jad push it in again is noticeably shorter this time. I try to tolerate the plug for longer this time, but after a few minutes I can’t take it any longer and I push it out again. It goes on like this for a while. They both seem to be enjoying it. My hole is starting to feel stretched out, but at least I can get the plug out more easily now.

I hear Bob in my ear: “You deserve a little break. Rest.” With these words, Jad pushes the plug back in, but this time secures it with the crotch straps of the straitjacket. They leave me lying like that. I don’t know if they’re still in the room, but in any case, I can’t feel them anymore. The reflex to push the plug out quickly returns, but this time it doesn’t work. It’s a nasty, uncomfortable feeling; my body resists. I tug at the straps that hold me to the rack, scream into the gag, but I’m completely helpless. I have to endure the plug.

After maybe ten minutes, I feel a hand on my now flaccid cock. It’s probably Jad. He’s playing with my tied-up balls. Bob stands diagonally in front of me, presses my head against his body, and talks to me soothingly. I feel my cock getting hard again. Jad pulls back his foreskin and plays with the head. His doggy sucks on one of my balls. I’m quickly close to orgasm again. The plug is still uncomfortable, but the feeling is now mingled with horniness. And yet the urge to push it out grows stronger and stronger.

When I’m just about to orgasm, Jad loosens the straps of the straitjacket, and my body involuntarily pushes the plug out. Jad’s hands are immediately on my hole again, but Bob pushes them aside. “Now you really get a break. After the break, we’ll continue training with a larger plug.” I’m starting to panic, but Bob continues. “You can decide how long the break is. I’m going to put in a harmless little plug now. If you want to continue, all you have to do is push it out. Until then, we’ll play a bit with Jad’s new doggy.” Shortly afterwards, I feel Bob push a really moderately sized plug into my hole and then leave me alone.

I can breathe a little easier. I can only feel the plug in my hole a little; it’s not secured. It’s more like I have to be careful not to accidentally push it out, because I can interpret Bob’s announcement as a threat that they’ll move on to a larger plug if the small one slips out. And indeed, I can feel my intestines trying to push out even the small plug. When a small plug like this is secured with straps or the diaper, I hardly feel it. But now I really have to concentrate so that it doesn’t accidentally slip out. Probably also a training exercise that Bob thought up. I have to really squeeze the sphincter now. Not easy either, but definitely much more pleasant than the thick plug.

I keep hearing muffled noises, but I can hardly identify them. They’re obviously playing with Jad’s doggy next door in the playroom. Every now and then I hear laughter, the occasional scream, but no other sounds reach me. It’s not enough to understand what they’re doing, but I notice Jad and Bob are playing with the doggy. I know the room, and I wonder what they’re doing to him. Have they tied him down on the lounger? Or on the chair? I have images in my head of Jad and Bob playing with him. For some reason, there’s something about it that I don’t like very much. I notice myself getting restless. Is it the thick isolation hood? Being alone in the hood was never easy for me. I always panicked quickly. But usually when I was lying on my back. It’s actually fine on my stomach. And really, there’s no trace of panic. So what is it? The position, the plug?

I notice various images popping into my head of Jad and Bob playing with the doggy style. Mostly images of Bob in his various sexy outfits. I don’t know what he’s wearing today, so the image keeps changing. His rubber shorts, his short nylon workout pants, sometimes shirtless, sometimes with a tight muscle shirt, then in a tracksuit made of shiny, sheer nylon. And so he plays with the doggy, tying it up, stroking it or fondling it, stuffing plugs into his hole, twisting his nipples.

Suddenly, I realize what’s bothering me. I’m jealous! I don’t want him playing with anyone else! Maybe the doggy is one of the guys at the party who raved about Bob. They’d probably be happy if I decided against Bob in a few days.

I manage to control myself just in time so I don’t push the plug out straight away so Bob would play with me again. The price alone is still too high for me; my hole needs some rest. Bob has once again driven me into a deep dilemma! This is no coincidence, Bob planned it this way! Or he wants to test me. He wants to see how much I already belong to him. The old trick for making undecided lovers jealous.

Literature is full of dramas, tragedies, and comedies on this topic. Jealousy is one of the hardest feelings to control; it starts out as a small pang, then becomes stabbing and can overwhelm you very quickly. And it is the most clairvoyant feeling. While love is still sorting itself out, still doubting and wavering, jealousy has long since grasped the situation and observes everything with its suspicious eyes, ready to wake you up with this stab in the heart at the first opportunity, at the first sign of a threat from a third party. Especially in a phase when a relationship is still in its infancy, or even just existing, jealousy gives you a glimpse into the future, showing you what you ‘re losing even though you don’t have it yet. A shift in perspective that makes some things so much clearer.

Bob, that’s a really cheap, an all too transparent maneuver! But as so often, rationality doesn’t help much when it comes to feelings. As cheap as it is, I can’t escape it. Every sound that reaches me through the thick hood and earplugs is a stab in my heart. I can’t stand it anymore and push the plug out. It doesn’t take long before Bob is with me. “Good boy! So eager to be trained again! I love you so much! But I think we can skip the bigger plug. You’re ready for my fist. But we’re not doing that here and now. This is just between the two of us.” I’m torn by my feelings. First the shudder that he’s now ramming his fist into me, in front of Jad, where he’s a bit rougher than usual, then the relief that it doesn’t happen after all, and finally this intimacy that makes me melt inside. I search for him with my head, moving it back and forth. Bob understands the gesture, comes to my head, squeezes it tightly, and lets me rub my head against his body. Even though I barely feel anything through the isolation hood, it’s a pleasant and beautiful moment. Bob hugs me tightly and kisses me on the neck.

Next, Bob stuffs the little plug back into my hole, puts a diaper on me, and over that the thickly padded rubber pants that spread my legs slightly. The chain between my feet is just long enough that it still fits. Now Bob unbuckles me from the frame and pulls me out of the room with my neck iron, over to his bedroom, lays me on the bed and attaches the chains from the neck iron and leg irons to the bed – loosely, but in such a way that I have to stay in bed. “I have to get a few things ready, then I’ll be back. Relax, rest.” He kisses my hood and leaves.

A trip

I’m lying on the bed, glad for the break. The training on the hole was exhausting. The day wasn’t easy in general. Jad was rather gentle after the brief episode at the beginning, but I kept getting the feeling that Bob was a little different when Jad joined in. I don’t know whose idea the “game” with the plug was. It was probably Bob’s. It’s more his style. Jad is more direct and would have probably rammed his fist into me long ago. But I doubt Bob would have gone through with it so hard on his own.

The hood is becoming increasingly oppressive – not physically, but psychologically. When did Bob put it on me? It was sometime yesterday afternoon or evening, I don’t know exactly. It must have been almost 24 hours now. 24 hours in which I can’t see any light, can hardly hear anything. The gag is also becoming more and more unbearable. It works surprisingly well for long periods of time, better than the others Bob has tried on me. All the others leave my mouth open and are very painful after a few hours. This one simply fills my mouth, but my mouth can stay in a normal position. It’s much better, but it’s also reaching its limits now. Above all, I want to see something, to hear something again. The hood is slowly becoming a horror! Especially when there are no distractions, like now, it’s really bad. At first, I still had strong images of Bob in my mind while wearing the hood, but now they’re getting fainter. I don’t have the strength. Except in situations like before, when they were playing with the doggy and these images just rose up inside me.

Luckily, Bob is just coming back. He takes the chains off the bed and pulls me along by the leash: down the stairs, outside, to the car. He straps me into the passenger seat and we drive off. I sit with my legs spread, his right hand gently caressing my inner thigh, sliding up to my crotch, kneading my cock through the two layers of padding in my pants and diaper. I savor the moment with him, lean my head on his arm, rubbing myself against him. It brings back memories of our first meeting. If I were freer, I would hug him hard and kiss him right now.

After a few winding roads, the car comes to a stop. Bob gets out but leaves me in the car. It takes a while, maybe ten minutes, until he comes back and gets me. He carries me over his shoulder and, after a few steps, sets me down on the ground, on a blanket, perhaps the blanket from the garden. He fastens the chain of the collar somewhere, but with a lot of slack. I can feel the sun on my legs and especially on my black straitjacket, but not very strongly anymore – it seems to be late afternoon. Bob paces back and forth, pottering around. I lie on my back and enjoy the peace and the gentle sun – and the fact that we are apparently alone together again!

Finally, Bob sits down next to me. He sits behind me and pulls me toward him. I sit between his spread legs, leaning against his body. He hugs me from behind, his head resting on my shoulder. We sit like that for a while, silent and very still. It feels good; it feels very safe. Bob loosens the straps of the hood and removes the collar. He unzips the hood and takes it off. After he puts the collar back around my neck, he removes the tape over my mouth and takes out the gag. It’s a huge relief. I move my mouth a few times but remain silent.

Meanwhile, Bob very carefully removes the tape over my eyes until only the eye patches remain. It’s already getting lighter. “Keep your eyes closed.” Then he removes the eye patches as well but still holds his hand over my eyes. Slowly, he takes his hand away. My eyes have to adjust to the brightness, but slowly I begin to recognize things around me. We’re sitting in an orchard on a mountain. Before us is a wonderful view of a lovely landscape. The sun is already quite low in the sky, bathing everything in a golden light.

After a whole day in the dark, it is an overwhelming sight. Only now do I see that Bob has set up a lavish picnic around us. There are bowls of little delicacies everywhere. It looks wonderful. I turn to Bob and see his face from below. His beard tickles my face. I just stare at him silently. He leans down and gives me a deep, passionate kiss. In that moment I melt. I am addicted to him. Bob sends me through a rollercoaster of emotions. He scares me, causes me pain, makes me despair, but in the end this same Bob appears again and catches me, who makes me feel so good, this Bob, without whom I no longer want or can live, with whom I must be falling in love.

However, he makes no attempt to free me further. Instead, he feeds me the delicious things. There’s even some very good wine. Bob doesn’t ask me what I want, but alternates between giving me different things to eat and drink. He decides, and he always makes the right decision. I enjoy the situation, even if it’s a bit strange, lying in his arms in a straitjacket and diaper, being fed delicious food. After having only been given porridge a few times now, everything tastes even better anyway.

As we finish eating, the sun continues to sink. The sky turns deep red, the clouds glow golden in the last rays of sunlight. Bob still holds me tightly in his arms, kissing me repeatedly as we enjoy the view of the sunset. I’m incredibly happy in that moment; I wish it could stay this way forever. At the same time, I become thoughtful, because if I stay or not depends on my decisions. And faced with the rollercoaster of emotions, I’m still torn.

Bob senses my melancholy. “In three days we have to decide. You won’t believe this, but it’s not an easy decision for me either. It means a great responsibility for me to keep you with me. Sure, I will have fun with you, but I also have to take care of you. Because I take that seriously; you should always have a good time with me. Your escape has thrown me a bit off balance, but recent developments have strengthened my opinion. I would like to keep you with me. Honestly, I would like nothing more than for you to stay with me. But I don’t want to rush you; you still have three days to decide. And I believe I’ve given you an honest insight into what awaits you over the last few days. Of course, things will get more intense when you’re ready, just as they have been over the last few days. There will always be challenges for you, but also for me. We will continue to grow together. Whether you want that, you’ll have to decide then. And I know how difficult that will be. Because the decision for one is, above all, a decision against the other. Will you choose to give up your former life? Or will you give up on me?”

Amid the beauty of the sunset, Bob brings up the issue that’s been tormenting me for days. If only I knew what I wanted. Why does Bob frame it as such an either/or decision? Isn’t a middle ground possible? A compromise? Do I really have to break so drastically with my former life, sever all ties? I ask Bob about it.

“I thought this was bothering you. And that’s why I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s a tough decision, and I’m also wondering if it really has to be this tough. But please ask yourself one thing: I can sense how happy you are right now, here with me. But how would your family and friends react if they saw you like this? In a rubber straitjacket, diaper, leg and neck irons? How would they react to me? Sure, they’ll all worry if they don’t hear from you. But would they worry less if they knew how you’re living here with me right now? That I’m locking you in my dungeon, in an isolation hood, in heavy irons? And how would they react if they knew how horny all this makes you?

“You won’t believe how these questions have tormented me these last few days. I see your dilemma, and I’m looking for ways to build a bridge for you. But I can’t find a solution. Because I’m reaching my limits somewhere. I don’t like half measures. What will we do, let’s say, if your cousin gets married? Do you go alone because you can’t show me to the family? Do we go together, pretending we’re a perfectly normal couple? Or can I force you to wear a rubber suit under your suit? Or do I drag you there by your collar, you in a rubber suit, hood, gag, straitjacket?

“You have to ask yourself what kind of life you want to live. I’m a little older than you, I’ve already had my fair share of disappointments, and I’ve decided for myself: I don’t want to live a compromise. If you stay with me, then I want you completely, then you’ll be mine. I have no problem with us going to your cousin’s wedding dressed like this, but that will be the way I want it. And I know you don’t want that! Then you’d rather be gone from your family. A compromise would only work if we deny who we are. I’m not going along with that. I want you completely or not at all. And deep down, you know that too. This only works between us because I own you completely right now, body and soul. You have no choice, but that also means you have no responsibility for what happens to you. The bonds set you free. And even though I don’t make it easy for you, you enjoy it. If you listen to yourself, you’ll know what you long for. And I know: You don’t just lack the courage to go through with it. It’s also this difficult decision, a difficult farewell to people who mean something to you, a farewell to your former life. Unfortunately, I can’t make it easier for you. It’s not something that just happens to you. It’s not fate. It’s a decision.”

Wow. Bob’s words surprise me, although I don’t know what surprises me more—that Bob thought about it so deeply, or that I couldn’t imagine how deeply he delves into the topic. There’s also a vulnerability in his words. He never shared much about himself, but enough for me to piece something together. He’s been through some trauma. He wasn’t born a lone wolf; he withdrew. He felt rejected by his family and cut off contact. Several relationships have failed, broken down by the contradiction to social conventions that have crept in through family and friends. That’s why he doesn’t want any more compromises. No outside interference, except from select individuals like Tom or Jad. He wants to maintain control. That’s why his love is so suffocating, so possessive. He wants me completely, he doesn’t want to share me. He doesn’t just want to possess my body, but also my mind and soul.

But Bob is at least as contradictory as I am. He wants me to stay, and at the same time he wants to leave the decision up to me. But what he really wants is to force me to stay. That’s the only thing that really turns him on. Voluntary slaves, like the ones he could have had in the bar, don’t turn him on. It would have been easy for him to make the two weeks with him so gentle that I would choose him. After that, he could get tougher. But he didn’t. He took me mercilessly, so hard that I even wanted to run away.

But if I’m being completely honest with myself: That’s exactly what turned me on. Sure, a lot of it was really hard. But in the end, I always found it hot. Sure, Bob is super sexy; you wouldn’t give up on him so easily. But what really turned me on was when he challenged me. That’s when the connection between us became truly strong. The last few hours in the isolation hood were hard, but they increased my desire for him infinitely.

Why is he even forcing me to make a decision? I’ve come to feel like it’s almost the most unreasonable imposition. He could easily just keep me, force me into the role of slave. No one knows I’m here, no one has seen my face, at least not without a head harness . The last place where I was registered by name is at least a five-hour drive away. No one would ever find me at Bob’s, and he knows it. I think he even paid close attention!

Does he really think I’ll grab my things and walk out in three days? Will he really give me that choice? And why? If I do, it will hurt him deeply. He’s opened up to me so much that I truly believe he feels a lot for me.

But if I choose him, am I different from the two guys at the bar? Wouldn’t he lose interest in me?

It’s actually one of the few times where I feel like Bob doesn’t have a plan. Because every possible outcome doesn’t fit with what he wants. And Bob doesn’t have a choice. It doesn’t sit right with him to keep me here against my will. Oh yes, Bob is in a much tougher bind than I am! The only difference is that I’m also trapped in real restraints. The heavy collar and straitjacket emphasize the difference between mental and physical freedom with every movement I attempt.

I remained silent for a long time after Bob’s words. He didn’t wait for an answer, he was patient. He simply stroked me. I think he knows the heavy thoughts I was mulling over. In silence, we watched the setting sun. It was a romantic moment overshadowed by heavy thoughts. I felt Bob, his body pressing me against it, his arms around me. I enjoyed it. But I also felt the tension and the weight of the question that stood between us. I knew I, and only I, could resolve the tension. I had to find the answer. But I wasn’t able to, not today. And so we watched the setting sun together, with that mixed feeling of happiness and the pain of parting, the kind you might have from time to time when you had to say goodbye to a holiday fling.

To be continued…

Click for previous part

Click to start at Part 1

NOTE: The author of this story would be interested to hear your opinion. Should the boy stay with Bob or leave him? Or should Bob force him to become his slave? Feel free to take part in the poll or leave a comment on X (formerly Twitter) by clicking here.

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.

Please feel free to leave a comment here on Metalbond, and / or contact me:

Romeo: bondagegimp

Recon: bondagegimpSTGT