By Dalton Ott

The next bondage session….

I have completed my special project. One of my leather sacks is an old Fetters double leather sack with smooth leather inside and out. It is a great sack, but it needed something more.

Many years ago I read a story about a spike-lined sleepsack. Since then every time I have been in this particular sack I have dreamed about that story. I wanted one but I’ve never found a place to buy one or found someone to make it, so I decided to make my own.

To do this I have meticulously loosened the inside layer luckily it wasn’t glued. I then line the entire inside with tiny metal spikes. These are the backing for metal snaps, they make spiked gloves with these protruding from the palms of the gloves for sensation play.

I love to struggle so I avoided places that my bones were close to the surface like knees, elbows etc. Only my fleshy parts will be exposed to the spikes, the souls of my feet, palms of my hands, calves, thighs, ass, back, arms, stomach, chest, ribs, and neck. The spikes protruding through the smooth leather lining will be uncomfortable but not quite sharp enough to cut.

As I’m naked inside the 500 snaps, each having six spikes equaling 3,000 tiny little spikes will push into my skin from every side. It sounds like a good idea but I will soon find out.

My plan is to be able to move around on the king-sized bed, tethered by a D ring on the top of my head and a D ring at my toes to avoid rolling off of the bed. I also have eight compression straps from my neck to my toes to press spikes into me from all sides.

In addition I have an old glove soft thin leather hood lined with spikes that will dig into my face and bald head. I’ll wear my Mr S Leather puffy hood over that.

This type of bondage will restrict my struggling. I know I will but I will pay a price. There will be no drifting off to la la land. The spikes will demand my full attention. My first session will be five hours, I know I will want out after fifteen minutes.

I want to test my ability to endure sustained discomfort physically, mentally and emotionally. I found a hard rubber gag with tiny spikes to add to the discomfort. As I reveal my plan my partner offers to loan me a spiked chastity cage. I smile and say “In for a penny, in for a pound.”

The morning comes. I have already set out the bag and locked myself in the spiked chastity cage. Unannounced to him I inserted a metal butt plug that I know will be uncomfortable in a few hours. I know I will regret that last decision but at least it doesn’t have spikes.

I’m laying in the sack with my eyes taped, ears plugged and my mouth gaged all covered with the double hoods. He arrives and quickly zips the sleepsack and fastens the straps starting at my feet. He then locks a chain to my feet and top of my hood.

My first thought was wow this is intense, my second thought was oh shit what have I done? I was adamant about not letting me out one second sooner than the five full hours. I also reminded him in a note to tighten and loosen the straps several times during the session.

The urge to struggle overcame my common sense. as usual I need to test everything for escape possibilities. The first hour was actually fun. I was aroused by the bondage but soon learned there was a price to pay. The cage spikes were doing their job and the more it hurt the harder it made my cock.

It was becoming obvious the spikes surrounding my cock and my head would give me the most discomfort if I struggled. I continued to inventorying my body, some spikes hurt but some actually felt good.

After the first hour I was laying still to catch my bearings. Suddenly I felt the strap around my feet tighten, then my ankles, my calves, my thighs, by ass and groin, my wrists and stomach, my arms and chest and my chest and shoulders.

This was becoming intense. I had to focus on what was actually happening. I force myself to remember the spikes will only be uncomfortable they will not damage me. They will hurt but I will survive. I can’t tap out without lying about the reason so that can’t happen. He won’t let me out because he promised to leave me in for the full five hours.

I start wondering why he isn’t loosening the straps when suddenly I feel the strap around my ankles tighten one notch, then the next strap and the next. He is really giving me my money’s worth. I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt more. I can actually struggle without the spikes scraping my skin.

All I can do right now is concentrate on my breathing. I am beginning to regret the butt plug, the ache is intense. I think about the spiked gag and my spiked head and face when suddenly the straps around my body were released very quickly. I expected relief but the blood came rushing in and a wave of pain overwhelmed me. This was so intense I let out a long moan.

A few minutes later the straps were tightened again. This time they were tightened three times. The last time I struggled to breathe. I knew what was coming and yes the pain rushed through me even more intense than before.

This went on hour after hour, my body slick with sweat. I was more present in this bondage than I have ever been. The pain was taking me to a new place I have never been. I felt overwhelmed with pain, but I felt no pain.

As he tightened and loosened the straps I began to drink in the deliciousness of the pain. I wanted it, I craved it. I began struggling and I felt my cock filling the cage. The pain was taking over. I wanted more and more.

For the last hour I thrashed around the bed completely lost in the intensity. My body was so over-stimulated, and my mind was in a frenzy. I was feeling intense rage. I wanted out but dreaded this, whatever it is, to end. I growled into the gag and squeezed the plug in my ass. The frustration of no escape combined with the maddening pain of these fucking spikes.

I reached my limit, I wanted out! Suddenly I feel my body being released. The straps loosened and my hood was removed. The cool air rushed over my sweat slick body.

My first reaction was not giving or getting a hug I was on overload. I did not want to talk, and I certainly did not want to cry. I wanted to yell and punch things. My god, this was intense.

I showered then returned to look in the mirror for damage only to find three thousand little red spike marks. I angry drank a cup of coffee and angry ate a sandwitch.

We finally talked I realized my session was different. I did not need to cry, I needed to feel my pent-up anger. I felt more like a marathon runner who had survived. My brain was so flooded with dopamine I could barely talk.

He told me he had to go but first he said he really enjoyed hurting me. I told him I could tell. I was high but exhausted so I told him we can talk later. I thanked him and said goodbye. It was time for a nap but instead I spent my energy angry splitting firewood. This was just as theraputic as any cathartic cry.

My inventive mind was designing a blow-up system to tighten and loosen the straps quickly with an air compressor. I was also wondering where I can get a spiked butt plug.

If we have come this far after only fifteen sessions, where will we be in a year, two years or three?

Metal would like to thank the author, Dalton Ott, for this story!