By JR

I was a mix of exhaustion, frustration, fear, and a bit of anger laying inside a locked box, head trapped in a leather hood, torso in a straightjacket, legs in laced up binders, and myriad straps limiting my movement within the box itself. I had no energy to struggle, which would have been pointless and likely only given Alex reason to somehow further restrain me.  I labored to calm myself, tried to push past the frustration and get into a submissive head space, and maybe even enjoy my predicament or doze off.

I thought about what a hot weekend in New Orleans my boyfriend and I were having.  We were both stressed with work, and this little getaway was much needed.  I hope he was having as much time meeting new people and seeing the city, as I was being locked up within it.  I drifted in and out of sleep, occasionally waking with an erection struggling to grow in my chastity device, or a bit of panic as I forgot where I was and had to calm myself down.  Eventually I woke having to pee, and from that point could no longer fall back asleep, just waited as calmly as possible for release, hoping I would be let out before having to pee myself in this box and surely be punished for that.

Continue reading End of Vacation →

By Straitjacketed

Rules are rules. That’s the way we choose to play, but he had broken one when he thought I was out of town.  It was quite a simple rule, really: if it’s raining, wear raingear and wear it properly.

I had arrived home from a conference one day early, and was watching from the upstairs front window when he parked his motorbike in the driveway. It had been raining earlier that afternoon and there was still a fine drizzle in the humid air but his one-piece Rukka rainsuit was unzipped to the waist, exposing his bike leathers. Wet bike leathers.

I had been about to make a call on my iPhone; instead, I snapped a couple of pictures.  Containing my disapproval, I counted five minutes after the front door closed before going downstairs with a smile on my face.  He had obviously stripped off the Rukka suit completely and turned from hanging it up in the vestibule. For just a moment, a flicker of guilt crossed his face, followed by relief.

Continue reading Rainproofed →

By JR

On the Sunday of our long weekend in New Orleans, our friend Alex held a barbecue for David and me, plus several other guys at his house. The house itself was in New Orleans’ Bywater neighborhood, a great old section of the city largely free from tourists. It is a gritty area, with some rough blocks of row homes and the occasional restored Greek Revival mansion. Alex’s house was somewhere in the middle, a once ornate home in need of work, but full of charm and mystery in its worn state. Perhaps he preferred it that way, as the faded paint and rusted ironwork gave the home something of an erotic charge.

The stockpile of bondage gear and bondage-related artwork completed the scene, making the whole place feel like a porn film set. In the living room a distressed leather sofa sat near a gleaming standing metal cage. In the dining room there was a pool table where one might find a dining table, and the only chair was a contraption in the corner with a dozen or more leather straps, which happened to be occupied at the moment by a hooded and gagged figure. The courtyard held a serious grill and a picnic table, and also a St. Andrew’s Cross in the corner and numerous heavy duty eye hooks set into the paving and garden wall. There was a brick-bordered pool, which looked perfect for the heat of this summer weekend.

Continue reading Party →