By Straghtjacket

It was a while ago that I responded to an ad in Drummer Magazine. The bondage toy market wasn’t nearly as expansive as it is now and men didn’t talk much about safe words, at least not the guys I hung out with. Well, some did have safewords and that was a distinguishing characteristic between “serious” men and players. I came out to old guard men who taught me the ropes. I was a bottom and essentially a slave to everyone. I had to work my way from being scum to finally earning my leathers.

I was held prisoner by two guys that looked like hairy bearded red necks. They were just as likely to drink a coke in the bars as they were to drink booze. They were the first tattooed men that I had known at the time and they always smelled of cigar smoke.

I was young, just out of college and looking too find myself. I knew the whole leather sex, BDSM lifestyle attracted me so I spent much of my free time looking for it. I lived in my own two bedroom apartment that came furnished. I owned almost nothing beside my clothes and didn’t feel settled enough to really care about accumulating stuff.

I answered their ad one night and popped my letter into the mail the next morning. It contained my phone number and my return address. Without calling me first, the two men came knocking at my door. They asked my name, once I answered affirmatively, they pushed their way past me, went to my fridge and grabbed a drink for themselves. We laughed a lot that evening. It was a purely social meeting in which I confessed my inexperience and our sexual fantasies. They scared the hell out of me but attracted me just the same. I grew to like their quickness and honestly.

“If you come to be our prisoner, you will regret it at times. We will hurt you but not damage you and you will be kept in bondage constantly. Get this through your head. Once you sign your life over to us you will not have an escape clause.”

I read the agreement carefully while they watched me. I was eager to sign but they stopped me and told me to think it over for a few days. Then we discussed the logistics. I had just finished graduate school and I didn’t have a job offer at the time.

I arrived at their place on the eve of July 4th. They offered me a beer and then took me out for the evening. I went to a local parade the next day, had a cookout in the back yard and went to the fireworks.
I was getting restless and anxious about what I hoped would come.

Upon our return that night, one of them tied my hands tightly behind my back. The other tied a pole between my ankles. The slipped a noose around my neck and attached an old bowling ball to the other end of the rope. They both practiced Tai Kwon Do so they used me for kick practice. (I recently saw the same experience on The Straight Hell website). It was extremely frightening and painful. They laughed the whole time. “Let’s do this, let’s do that, I know, I know, let’s do this!” They egged each other on while laughing, all at my expense. They used me for a punching bag and then they both fucked my virgin ass. The thing that I felt when they finished with me was that I wanted more.

They asked me “are you sure you want this kind of action for thirty days or more?”
I did and I said “yes” without hesitation.

They untied my ankles and brought me to a dry windowless room that contained only a steel bed that looked like an army surplus bed. It had an old stripe ticking mattress and heavy steel loops welded to the sides of the frame. There was a porta potty in one corner.

One of them untied my hands then handed me another copy of the agreement. I read it again then signed it.

I was held prisoner for the next 31 days. I was constantly bound, sometime tortured and punished and I was expected to clean the house and serve them. There were long stints of darkness that I hated. It was so dark that I could not tell where I was in the room. They fed me crappy food like left overs or a bowl of cold spaghettios, an occasional bowl of undressed greens, carrots or apples.

I enjoyed the feeling of complete helplessness and long hours of intense bondage in between the boredom of nothingness. I was gagged almost constantly because they were seldom interested in anything I had to say. When not in use my hands were cuffed or bound with rope behind my back.

Thirty-one days crept by very slowly. It was during my release when they asked if I had enough. They gave me the option to add another 15 days. I took it.

I want to experience this again, especially these days with all the equipment and toys that available. I am open to everything except obvious disease transmitting activities. I could arrange thirty days and longer given the right circumstances. I am self-employed so I can take time as I want. I am mature so I’m not going to whine and I know better than to expect my captors to be there to entertain me.

I am HIV negative.

 

 

This Metalbond reader sent the writing above in response to the posting called Volunteers Needed.