By Rubber Dog
His Master brought the straitjacket back from the far end of the playroom where it had been stored with some of the other larger pieces of restraint he often used; his boy laid out on the table was still trying to keep still but had taken to gently and ever so slightly pushing his butt down into the padding and thereby gaining some leverage with the plug.
He let him do this for a moment or two until the slave started to moan and then firmly slapped the slave’s dick through the restraints. This elicited what would have been a yelp and a well-caught instinctive attempt to move his hands to his dick’s protection. He would have been disappointed if the boy hadn’t caught this reflex and he smiled to himself that already the boy was learning.
Getting the jacket on was not as difficult as it sometimes was when he’d gotten slaves to this point of the storage process; occasionally they had already decided they wanted out and wrestling the straitjacket onto them took time and considerable effort. In fact the last time that had happened had made him rethink just how much of the impending captivity he let the slaves see before beginning the encasement. Certainly the desperate struggling and fight for freedom had its plus points and he still wasn’t sure if he should hood a victim early on since this deprived them of a view of the box up-close, and deprived him of seeing their reaction to it.
Continue reading The Box – Part 4
By Rubber Dog
The boy’s visual record of his ordeal had ended as the hood had been fitted over his head; its thickness virtually unyielding to even the smallest attempted movement of his jaw. The shock of the massive plug had made him try to scream, but he’d not even been able to do this properly, rather instead sending a shock of pain through his jaw and neck as he involuntarily tried to throw open his mouth.
This, in turn had caused him problems with the gag, again almost choking him as it threatened to trigger his yet untamed gag reflex. Now, for a few moments he was left alone, panting hard and testing the restraints occasionally with agitated struggles but of course he was still held firm. Through the thickness of the hood he could just about make out the sounds of his snorting breathing from the end of the thick mouth tube, that and the slight vibration it made across the rubber of his face.
His master watched this for a few minutes: the sporadic struggling gradually became less and less frantic as the boy accepted his predicament; the coughing flecks of spit that came out of the gag; and the way the boy was trying to adjust his feet, still not yet covered in rubber, as his legs no doubt began to ache more and more from their almost rigid bondage.
Continue reading The Box – Part 3 – First Frustration
By Rubber Dog
Cold, and with a desperate panic, the boy jolted back awake. He heard his breath, course ragged breaths. Darkness. Cold and damp. A hard floor, his body aching from laying on it. His skin was cold. He propped himself up with his arms, his hands feeling a tiled floor, he turned his head side to side. Looking. Nothing. Panicked. Where was he? He’d been knocked out, but where was he now?
Why did he feel so cold? He moved one hand to his jeans pocket, but just hit skin. He was naked. Cold and naked laying on a hard tiled floor, in complete darkness, his head still spinning and clouded from whatever had been on the rag.
He sat up, drew his knees to his chin and pulled his feet in. Slowly he crept backwards, inching towards something he could lean against. He found a wall, and carefully propped himself against it, getting himself used to the glassy chill of it down his naked back. Gingerly he pulled his feet in further and wrapped his arms around his knees, more for safety now than anything else.
Continue reading The Box – Part 2 – A First Layer
By Rubber Dog
Part One – Knock, Knock
Mark stood in front of the door. Number 34, it said, looked like the right place, it was certainly the right road, it just didn’t look like anything special. Just someone’s house on an ordinary road. The only thing he’d noticed about it was the motorbike parked outside which he’d seen as soon as he’d turned the corner at the top of the road and started checking the house numbers.
Continue reading The Box – Part 1