By bondagegimp

Afternoon Nap

It was a short walk from the car to the house. With the bar between my legs, it wasn’t easy to walk, but he just kept pulling on the leash, and I had to limp after him. I tried to grab the leash with my hands so he wouldn’t pull on my neck, but the fist mitts that were locked on made that impossible; I had to let him pull me to the house by my collar. I barely had time to look around the house; he pulled me straight up to the stairs.

Climbing the stairs was even more difficult with the bar between my feet, of course; I had to brace myself with my hands on the floor. Once at the top, he pulled me into the bedroom. He said he wanted to rest a bit after the drive, so he took off my shirt and threw me onto the bed. He took a chain from the top of the bed and attached it to my collar with a lock. It was long enough for me to move, but too short for me to sit down. Now he grabbed my feet, removed the bar, and connected my feet with a short chain, which he then tied to the bottom of the bed. This chain, too, had enough slack for me to bend my legs, but not so long that I could have gotten out of bed. With just a few simple moves, he had me secured to the bed, naked except for my diaper, lying there in front of him.

He took off his pants; underneath he wore tight-fitting Lycra trunks that showed off his powerful thighs and ample buttocks, revealing a rather impressive bulge in the front. When he took off his shirt, a skin-tight, shiny Lycra T-shirt appeared underneath, revealing his bulging, muscular torso. I couldn’t help but stare at him; I practically wanted to devour him with my eyes. He stepped closer to the bed so that I could see his bulge in front of me and his powerful chest from an angle below. He just stood there, looked down at me, and grinned. I just lay there myself, too, on the one hand wanting to touch him, but on the other hand too insecure, even a little scared. Chained up like that, half-naked, enclosed in my mitts, I felt defenseless, exposed, vulnerable, and didn’t know what he was planning. After staring at me like that for a while, he left the room without saying a word, but came back a few moments later with two water bottles. He was already drinking from one and holding the other out to me. I only took a small sip, as my diaper was already so full.

He put the still almost full bottle on the nightstand by the bed and climbed into bed next to me, pulled me towards him with his strong arms, and started fondling me, especially playing with my nipples and, of course, with my cock, through the diaper. It had become extremely stiff by now, and I would have loved to play with it myself, but with the mitts and the diaper, that wasn’t possible. I would have liked to touch him myself, fondle him, feel his muscles, but the mitts didn’t allow that either, so I could only rub my head against him again. He seemed to like that; he grabbed my head and guided it everywhere, especially pressing it against his chest so that I could feel his powerful pectoral muscles against my cheek.

After a while, he calmed down a bit, turned me so that I was lying in the spoon position between his strong arms and thighs, and simply said that we should rest a bit before he took care of dinner. So he quickly fell asleep. I lay awake, wrapped in his muscles, feeling the thick diaper between my legs, the mittens on my hands, the ankle cuffs, the collar. The restraints made themselves felt with every movement. I still had the urge to pee, but I still couldn’t control myself. Besides, my cock was hard again, which made it even more difficult.

So I lay there and thought about my situation. Although I was only partially and loosely bound, almost playfully, I still had little chance of freeing myself. Everything was secured with locks: the mittens, the collar, the ankle cuffs, even the diaper underneath the closed diaper pants. And then there were the chains that connected me to the bed. I wondered if I could free myself if push came to shove. With a little patience, it seemed possible, I thought. Perhaps I could bite open the straps of the fist mitts with my teeth and free my hands. The collar and ankle cuffs were also made of leather. While sturdy, it would certainly be possible to gradually loosen and open them with a lot of tugging. It would all be very tedious and certainly not possible with him lying next to me, but doable in principle, I thought. Somehow, the thought that I wasn’t completely at his mercy calmed me down, especially after he had told me earlier in the car that he was looking for a permanent slave… But this way, I could relax a little better, and even enjoy the situation a little, lying here in the arms of such a hot guy, feeling his muscles all around me. I felt his strong chest and his semi-erect cock, which was obviously quite large, behind me. His broad arms were wrapped around my upper body, and he had my legs clamped between one of his powerful thighs.

The situation was making me really horny, but the pressure on my bladder was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. So I tried to concentrate, to relax, to finally empty it. I tried pushing, but only a few drops came out, even though I pushed so hard that my head turned red. Then I heard laughter behind me. Bob must have woken up and was watching me with obvious pleasure as I attempted to do this. He sat up slightly in bed, leaned against the headboard with his legs spread wide, and pulled me toward him so that I was lying on my back between his thighs, my head on his stomach. This tightened the chain between my legs, eliminating any play. He reached for something on the nightstand, took one of my hands, and fastened it behind my head to the collar, then did the same with the other.

With two simple moves, he had transformed the flexible restraint into a fairly defenseless position. “Now I want to watch you pee in your diaper,” he said, but immediately began gently twisting my nipples. “Please, I can’t pee like this,” I begged, but he just laughed, grabbed the water bottle next to him, and held it to my mouth. I tried to turn away, but he had my head firmly clamped in his arms. I tried to beg, but he seemed to be just waiting for me to open my mouth, and then he pinched my left nipple quite hard, making me cry out. He seized the moment and pushed the opening of the bottle into my mouth. “Now, drink it up nicely,” he commanded, continuing to squeeze my nipple. I took it playfully, not really wanting to resist too much, perhaps even enjoying being forced to do it. So I gradually drank the whole bottle. Afterwards, he gently played with my nipples again, and I could only lie there and endure the pressure on my bladder slowly rising. Every now and then, Bob pressed on my lower stomach, which increased the pressure even further. It was slowly becoming truly agonizing, but something inside me was still blocking me. It didn’t help that I wasn’t alone, but lying in Bob’s lap, and he was also fondling me. He laughed and encouraged me to just relax and let it go. I had to let go. Besides, he would keep me locked in the diaper until it was full of piss.

After a while, I finally managed to overcome myself. I felt the warm liquid in my crotch; I just let it go. Once it started, I couldn’t stop it. He noticed and just grinned at me, called me a good boy, and gently stroked me, this time again over the diaper, gently pressed there a few times, and groped me while the piss flowed. But it really was a very unusual feeling, lying in a guy’s arms and peeing myself. On the one hand, it was a great relief for my bladder, but on the other hand, it was kind of embarrassing to pee my pants in front of a stranger, to be watched. And also that he had managed to force me to do something like that, to submit me. And that the whole thing made me even more horny. So, a whole lot of mixed feelings…

After I finished peeing, we lay there for a while, and Bob continued to play with the diaper, squeezing it, kneading my cock through it, which was already getting harder again. The diaper felt even less comfortable now. Although it had absorbed the pee well, it was still a little damp, especially when Bob pressed on it. In any case, I was happy that I could soon take it off.

“Walking” around

But Bob first got up and left the room. This time he didn’t come back right away. I was still handcuffed to the bed with the chains, and now my hands were still tied behind my head to the collar. When he didn’t return after a few minutes, I became restless and started tugging at my restraints. My previous idea of biting open the handcuffs with my teeth was no longer an option with my hands tied behind my head. I couldn’t reach my ankle cuffs either, as they were chained down and my collar was chained to the top of the bed. I pulled on the chains, but they were very firmly attached to the bed and didn’t give in. Even the leather restraints, which I previously thought might be loosened by shaking and tugging, turned out to be very, very sturdy. There was nothing to be done; I was handcuffed to the bed and couldn’t escape. Now I felt a little uneasy and started calling for Bob, but there was no response.

It wasn’t until several more minutes later that the door opened, and Bob came in, grinning at me. He had a bundle of things in his arms, some of them black leather, but I couldn’t recognize them.

“I just had to gather a few things. In the car earlier, you were so curious about what a slave would live like with me. I thought it would be best if I let you experience it for yourself. I’m not driving you to the train station today anyway; you’re staying with me tonight. I’ll make us something to eat now, and in the meantime, you can look around a bit. I have some kind of device in almost every room for restraining my slave or playing with him, but I’ll let you discover that for yourself. You can go into any room you can enter.”

That sounded exciting, and I expected him to release me from my restraints and I could finally take off my diaper. I’d also like to go to the bathroom, because I had to pee again, but I didn’t want to pee in my already slightly damp diaper again. At first, it looked as if Bob was going to free me, because he undid my ankle cuffs, only to then put something else on me: strange, thickly padded leather socks with lots of straps. They were secured with a strap above the ankle and closed with a small lock. What that was for, however, was a complete mystery to me, but when I asked him, he simply said I’d see. Every now and then, I begged him to take off my diaper first, but his only response was: “No, little one, no chance! It can handle a few more portions, and since you’ve drunk so much water, you’ll need it. Because as a slave, you’ll never use the toilet again. Toilets aren’t for slaves; they either have a diaper or there are many other options. Maybe you’ll even get to experience another one before I drive you into town tomorrow. But as long as you’re with me, you’ll live the way my slave would live here. Only it’ll only be a few hours for you, but maybe then you’ll be able to better imagine what it would be like. That should satisfy your curiosity a little.”

Phew. I was a bit surprised by the announcement. Was I supposed to be his slave until tomorrow? Not allowed to use the toilet? What else did he have planned?

After my feet were encased in the padded socks, he went to my collar and first untied my hands. He was sitting above me, on my chest, his thighs to either side of my body. He was still wearing only his skin-tight Lycra underwear, and my head was now very close to his shorts. The shorts were tight around his powerful thighs, with a bulging bulge between them, beneath which a semi-erect, rather fat cock was clearly visible. He was obviously enjoying all of this.

He took a pole about 20 cm long, similar to the one that was between my legs on the trip, only significantly shorter, and secured it with two locks between my hand pockets. “The mitts stay on, I already explained that to you in the car. With the pole between them, they’re even more effective because that way you can’t get anything stuck between your hands. I said you can look at everything here in peace afterwards, but this will prevent you from touching the things.”

I stared in disbelief at my hands in their little bags, now held 20 cm apart and thus even more useless than before. In the car, I could at least hold my water bottle between the fist mitts, but now even that wouldn’t work.

To my surprise, he then took off my collar. That was a real relief, I realized at the time, because it was quite wide and had been on for several hours. But my freedom didn’t last long, because he grabbed a bundle of leather straps that looked threatening and quite frightened me. Bob saw the frightened look in my eyes and laughed out loud. “Don’t worry, little one, it’s just a head harness, and it doesn’t have a gag. I’ll strap it around your head now, then your mouth will be covered. First of all, then you won’t be able to shout as loudly as before, but most importantly, you won’t be able to do anything with your mouth. Some slaves are very skilled with their mouths, manipulating locks or biting through straps. And we don’t want that!”

Was he trying to calm me down with that statement? He achieved the opposite – I didn’t want my head strapped into a harness like that! I told him that, but he just grinned and started putting the harness on me, but I started to squirm and resist. He simply turned me onto my stomach with one grip and sat on my back, my hands underneath me and out of the way. He held my head still with his thighs and pushed part of the harness under my head, pressing it against my face, and then simply pressed my head onto the mattress. I felt him tighten the first few straps, but not very tightly, thankfully. Once the straps were in place, he turned me back onto my back and adjusted the harness a little more until it fit properly. Then he went back to the straps, and despite my protests, he tightened all the straps even more firmly and fastened them all with little locks. Then he let me go, and I immediately tried to put my hands on the harness, but they were completely useless in their own restraints.

My head was now really tightly wrapped up. In front of my mouth and around my chin was a rigid, thickly padded leather shell, to which numerous straps were attached, which were then tied around my head – it felt quite claustrophobic. I tried to beg him to take the harness off, but the leather shell muffled my words quite badly, making it hard to hear everything. Bob just laughed, scratched my head, and said, “You’ll get used to it! Oh, and one more thing, I almost forgot.” With that, he took another bar, maybe 30 or 40 cm long, attached it to the front of the head harness’s collar, and placed the other end in the middle of the bar between my hands – like a flexible upside-down T. Of course, everything was connected with locks again. This held my hands in front of my body, roughly at navel level. Everything was movable, but the options were very limited.

“So, that’s it! You can now move around the house while I make us something to eat. Oh, one more thing. There’s also a small electric shocker on the collar. When the food is ready, I’ll give you a signal, and then you should come to eat as quickly as possible, because the shock will get stronger if I get impatient. But don’t worry, it’s a very mild shock to begin with. But of course, I can increase it for training purposes or as punishment. And it has a rangefinder. If you move a few meters away from the house, you’ll receive a very strong electric shock; any further away, it’ll be so strong that you’ll faint. This is just for safety, so that a slave doesn’t take advantage of me being generous enough to let him roam the house relatively freely. But don’t worry, you won’t be able to open the front door with your mitts on anyway.”

He picked up a small black box and pressed a button. I immediately felt an electric shock on my neck, which, to be honest, seemed pretty strong and made me yelp briefly. “This is level 1 of 20, so don’t make such a fuss. And one last thing: If that’s more comfortable for you, you can use these. But you can put them on yourself.” With that, he threw something else onto the bed next to me and left the room. A closer look showed me that he had thrown two black knee pads onto the bed, but I couldn’t make sense of it. Astonished, I lay on the bed for a while, looking at my restraints, trying again to pull on the harness with my hand, but the T-shaped construction of the two small spreader bars prevented me from even reaching my head. I could at least rub against my diaper, but the thick diaper and padded mittens meant the effect was very minimal. After a short while, sitting somewhat perplexed on the bed, curiosity arose to explore the rooms, as Bob had allowed me to. When I tried to get out of bed and put my first foot on the floor, I felt a thousand pinpricks in my foot. A test with the second foot showed, not surprisingly, that the same thing was happening here. The thick padding of the sole apparently contained several needles or spikes that pricked the sole of my foot as soon as I stepped on them. Now I also understood why he had given me the knee pads. I could forget about walking – if I wanted to move, I had to do it on all fours. Perfidious… First the diaper, now this. Bob really wants to humiliate me in every way… But what choice did I have?

Besides, I was still curious. So I carefully got on all fours, which wasn’t easy with my hands so intricately bound. The bars were also quite annoying when crawling on all fours, but at least they allowed a certain amount of movement. But I quickly realized that my knees were very sensitive, so I started putting on the knee pads. This wasn’t easy, of course, and it took a while until I found a way to wedge them in so that I could slide my leg in. Finally, I was able to crawl out of the bedroom, but it was very difficult. I moved one hand, pulling or pushing the bar on the other hand and also on the collar. Eventually, though, I found a rhythm that allowed me to move slowly but still comfortably. In the hallway, I first noticed that there were cameras hanging from the ceiling. There were also cameras in the bedroom. Apparently, Bob can monitor his entire house from somewhere via camera.

I crawled to the first door, trying to open it, but quickly realized that wasn’t possible. All the doors had a knob that I couldn’t operate with my mitts.

Only one of the doors in the hallway was ajar, so I crawled there. When I opened the door, my breath caught in my throat. The room looked like a torture chamber. I saw cages of various sizes, chains hanging from the ceiling, a high bed covered in black plastic with straps hanging from it. There were shelves, cabinets, and hooks on the walls, and all sorts of things hanging there, much of it completely unknown to me. What I recognized were dildos and plugs, from large to enormous. On one wall hung leather masks and what appeared to be head harnesses, similar to the one I was wearing. I would have liked to get closer to examine some of them, but many were hanging so high that I couldn’t reach them. And the cabinets were closed anyway, and I couldn’t open them.

Another door led off to one side, but it was also only ajar. I crawled there and entered a smaller room, lined all around with black tiles and with a floor drain in the corner and, of course, cameras on the ceiling. I wondered if Bob was watching me the whole time, amused by my clumsy crawling attempts.

Here, too, there were some chains hanging, a water connection, and on one side stood a menacing-looking frame on wheels. It was made of steel bars and had several padded supports at different heights and some other strange rods. And, of course, lots of straps, probably for strapping someone down—but I had no idea how or in what position.

I wondered if the tiled room and the frame had something to do with what Bob had suggested earlier about the toilet. Was this a slave toilet? But that didn’t make sense to me either. However, I did realize that I’d had a full bladder for quite some time and wanted to use the time to quietly pee in my diaper.

It wasn’t easy to pee in a diaper this time either, but at least I had peace and quiet and was alone. I tried different positions, but in the end I just lay on my back and tried to relax. After some back and forth, I finally managed it, and I felt the warm liquid spreading in my lap again. And I also noticed that my bladder was very full, because it just wouldn’t stop.

Dinner

But suddenly, in the middle of it, I felt an electric shock in my neck – the signal to eat. I don’t know if it was a coincidence or if Bob had been watching me and deliberately waited until I emptied my bladder. Either way, it was the most unfortunate moment imaginable, and of course I wanted to finish peeing. So I stayed lying down for a while, but then came the second electric shock, noticeably stronger, and then another one right away, so that I jumped up and reflexively tried to grab my collar with my hands, which only made my unpleasant restraints clearly visible again.

To avoid risking another shock, I immediately stopped peeing, even though my bladder was still noticeably full. I pulled myself together and started crawling toward the hallway. There was no electric shock this time, which made me conclude that Bob was indeed watching me via the cameras and was obviously very annoyed that I had stayed lying down after the signal.

So I dutifully crawled down the hallway until I reached the stairs. Here I paused – how was I supposed to get down like that? My hesitation was immediately met with a series of further, harder electric shocks, so I tried going forward at first, but that wasn’t possible. After another electric shock, I quickly turned around and crawled backward down the steps, which worked quite well!

At the bottom, my next problem was which direction to go? Bob’s house was quite large. I tried going one way, but the short and thankfully weaker shock meant I was going the wrong way and turned around. Now I smelled dinner and realized how hungry I actually was. One of the ajar doors led to the kitchen, and there Bob was standing by the stove, his back to me. He was still wearing the skin-tight Lycra shirt, beneath which his broad, muscular back was perfectly defined. His pants were now athletic shorts made of shiny, heavy nylon that clung perfectly to his butt. The sight was so hot!

He turned around briefly. “Hey, little one, did you have a nice walk? Did you discover anything exciting? The food will take a few more minutes, but I thought I’d call you since you’re not moving that fast. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important,” he said with a somewhat nasty grin on his face.

What a sadist, he knew it, that much was clear! Now my diaper was indeed a bit uncomfortably wet, but my bladder was still not completely empty. But it was bearable. What was unbearable was the sight of this hot guy. I crawled over to him, got up on my knees, and snuggled up from behind with my head against his incredibly plump ass. I would have loved to hug his thighs, but the handcuffs wouldn’t allow it. And the head harness was in the way, of course, but it was still a very hot situation. He seemed to like it too, as he stroked my head and said, “Good boy, yes, come to me,” and pressed my head even harder against his muscular glutes.

Shortly after, he finished cooking, put everything on a tray, and headed toward the door. I followed him as fast as I could, but of course, I was very slow. Not even halfway there, he came back toward me with the leash in his hand, which he immediately hooked onto my collar and used to pull me into the dining room. The next surprise awaited me in the dining room: On the floor next to the dining table was a food bowl! By now, I had gotten to know Bob well enough to know it was meant for me.

But first, he led me to the table, sat down on a chair, and pulled me toward him by the leash until my head was between his thighs. He then hooked the leash onto the chair, so that I was temporarily pinned between his legs, facing his fat bulge.

“The slave won’t eat until I’m finished eating. And he’ll get my leftovers.” With that, he began filling his plate and eating. Every time he bent forward, he pressed his bulge into my face. In between, he repeatedly patted my head or scratched my ears. The whole situation was quite overwhelming for me. My restraints, the harness, then kneeling here in front of Bob, between his sexy, fat thighs, with that big bulge. Even though it didn’t help much, I started pressing on the diaper with my mittens, hoping to hit my cock. But I could barely feel anything.

Bob, of course, noticed what I was doing, but also knew it was no good. “Well, does that turn you on? Do you like eating dinner like this? Of course, my slave isn’t always allowed to eat with me; sometimes he stays in the cage. Sometimes he’s tied up so tightly that I have to feed him. And sometimes he’s force-fed with a gastric tube. But of course, I won’t start with something like that; the slave has to gradually get used to his position.” More stories like that scared me. I didn’t know if they were true or if he was just trying to scare me. I tried to ask him something about it, but only muffled words came through the harness, which he ignored.

After a while, he finally finished eating; I was terribly hungry. He leaned back so he could see my face and fiddled with the head harness. I was also waiting for him to finally take it off, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to eat. But in fact, he only removed part of the leather bowl, leaving my mouth free. The straps remained buckled around my head.

He untied my leash, took his plate, which fortunately still had a lot of “leftovers” on it, and poured them into the bowl. Now that my mouth was almost free again and I could finally talk again, I tried to persuade him to free me. I’d been in mittens and a diaper for so long, and he’d humiliated me with so many things. It started to hurt me a little inside. I started to feel a little inferior next to him; a slight inner sadness arose. And I was sure it was from these constant humiliating restraints and situations. And now eating from a bowl was too much for me! So I told him I’d had enough and to please free me. He just looked at me, took the leather cap he’d just removed from the harness, and said simply: “Little one, you have to behave! Otherwise, I’ll close the harness right away, and you’ll be locked in the cage overnight without food!”

I looked up at him, startled, and saw from his expression that he wasn’t joking. After a brief hesitation, I crawled over to the bowl. He took the leash and hooked it into an eyelet set into the floor in front of the bowl. I could now move my head a maximum of 30 cm from the bowl. In the bowl itself, all the food was jumbled together; it was no longer clear what was a side dish, vegetables, or meat. He had sat down on a chair next to me, and I looked over at him hesitantly, but he just briefly raised the remote control for the electric collar in a threatening manner, and I started eating. Only with my mouth; my hands were useless. I wasn’t even allowed to eat with my hands; I had to scoop every bite out of the bowl with my mouth. While I was eating, he slid his chair closer and played with my diaper with his feet.

The food tasted very good, even though everything was mixed up. And it satisfied my hunger for the time being. Once I was full, my mood improved considerably. His light kicks against the diaper, which sometimes hit my cock, made me horny again. When I had finished eating, he took the bowl and brought everything into the kitchen. Apparently, he also washed up straight away. He left me chained to the floor, just as I had eaten. I tried to find a more comfortable position. In the end, I lay on my stomach; it was the only halfway comfortable position, even though the bars were particularly annoying. After a while, Bob came back, untied the leash from the floor, and pulled me behind him into the living room to a large sofa.

A little psychology on the couch

He sits down and gestures for me to join him. I climb onto the couch, and he pulls me toward him so that I’m lying across his lap between his spread legs. I lie so that I can see his upper body from below and am impressed by how prominent his pecs are from this perspective. He starts stroking me again, gently twisting my nipples and squeezing my diaper. I snuggle my head against his stomach, feeling the head harness, trying to touch his body with my useless hands. I’d love to touch and knead his pecs, but the restraints prevent me. My cock gets harder and harder. Bob senses this and kneads it through the diaper, which makes me even hornier.

“Well, you seem to be feeling better. Maybe we can use this time to chat a bit?” I just nod, not really daring to speak anymore, even though the head harness has been open at my mouth since I ate and I could almost speak normally again. “You were having a bit of a slump earlier. That’s normal. You lost some freedom today; I humiliated you in various ways. You realize that you have to submit because I don’t give you any choice. Your psyche reacts to this; you feel small, helpless, sometimes lonely, abandoned, desperate. You wanted to know what it’s like to be my slave. Now you’re getting an insight. Such phases are part of it; they’re an important part of the training. They make you small, submissive, controlled, the way I want a slave to be!

“It’s easy to see it in your eyes; you have a look that says it all: a fearful, pleading, sometimes somewhat desperate look. I love that look on you; it shows you in all your vulnerability. You look like a frightened deer. In that moment, I almost feel sorry for you; I feel your inner struggle. And at the same time, that look really turns me on. Seeing the desperation in your eyes… Feeling this power over you turns me on incredibly!

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a bad person. I wouldn’t enjoy something like that with just anyone, nor would I want to do it to just anyone. And not everyone could go through it without suffering serious damage. But the crucial thing is that there’s another component with you in particular – because you have to admit, it turns you on too. I can see it in your face, and then your expression changes. You feel your own horniness, you realize that deep down you enjoy it. Your feelings change, but you can’t quite place your horniness. It confuses you that these situations turn you on so much; you don’t really want to admit it. You’re ashamed that it turns you on when I force you to pee in your diaper. Or crawl on all fours. Or eat from the bowl. And that look, when you realize it, makes me even hornier. This mixture of horniness and shame is so hot!

“I don’t think it’s because you’re still so inexperienced. I think you’re actually torn inside. You hate it, you don’t want it, but at the same time, it makes you incredibly horny. I haven’t seen anything like it in a long time. The two slave applicants I tested out didn’t get anything out of it. They just let it all happen. They barely showed any emotion. That was so disappointing. With you, on the other hand, I constantly see your emotions in all their contradictions and your struggle with yourself.

“I can tell you one thing: If either of the two candidates had even a spark of what I see in you this weekend, I promise you, he’d already be chained up in my basement!”

Wow, I was perplexed. That was a pretty accurate analysis of the rollercoaster of emotions I’d experienced today. While he was talking, he hadn’t stopped kneading my cock, which only grew harder with each of his words, struggling in vain against the tightness of the diaper.

At first, I felt flattered by his words. That such a hot guy with such a dream body and such charisma found me “hot,” hotter than the two slaves he was leading through the club by their collars, that made me feel really good! But then a second, disturbing thought came to me. I’d already realized today how helpless I was at his mercy. My attempts to free myself had all been in vain. If he just wanted to keep me there, there was hardly anything I could do. And no one knew I was here with him, in a completely secluded place in a large former courtyard with thick walls. The thought suddenly made me feel very uneasy, maybe I even turned a little pale – and immediately thought of his words, that he could probably now read what was going on inside me from my face. And indeed, he looked at me attentively and amusedly the whole time, stroking my head with one hand while the other continued to fondle my cock. It had shrunk a bit again due to the suddenly very frightening thought, and he was sure to notice that too.

But just as he had described it before, I couldn’t stop the thought of being completely defenseless and at his mercy from somehow arousing me, and my cock became hard again. Because I knew he noticed and knew it, my face turned red with shame and my cock only got harder. Damn!

And yes, he watched everything and probably deciphered it perfectly – he reads me like an open book! At the very least, he had to laugh heartily, cuddled me, and kissed me completely unexpectedly on the mouth. “You’ve just gone through the options in your head about what could happen now, and it scares you and turns you on at the same time! But don’t worry, I don’t intend to keep you against your will, even though I could, as you’ve probably noticed by now. And you only know a fraction of my options. But I admit, the temptation is great, I really have to pull myself together! Driving you into town tomorrow is a real loss. But maybe you’ll reconsider and ask me to enslave you…?”

His words calmed me down a bit – he was sensible enough not to just kidnap me and keep me against my will. Everything that happened today was a game, even if it had a certain seriousness for me at times. But just a game. Phew. Reassuring. But somehow, in some corner of me, I also found it disappointing. Damn, what’s going on inside me??? Why am I receiving such contradictory signals???

My cock, in particular, reacted with some disappointment and lost some of its hardness again. I looked at Bob, hoping he didn’t notice. He looked at me attentively, one hand still kneading my cock. “Does this disappoint you? Did you perhaps hope, deep down, that I would keep you here against your will? Ha! Well, perhaps we should discuss the question of what your will actually is sometime soon? You don’t seem to be entirely in agreement internally! Who should I believe? You or your cock?” He laughed mockingly. His words scared me again, but made my cock a little harder again. He noticed and just laughed even louder. And he gave me another kiss on the mouth.

“You’re so sweet! Did you notice that we had a whole conversation without you even having to speak once? I think it won’t hurt if I put the leather cup back on.” Before I could react, he reached next to him and pressed a leather cap over my mouth. Only this time, something was different: something was pressing painfully against my lips. Instinctively, I opened my mouth, and a thick plug entered. It completely filled my mouth and pushed my tongue down. I panicked a little and resisted, but he pushed me down easily and was able to calmly attach the leather cap to the harness and secure it with small locks.

***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.***

Romeo: bondagegimp

Recon: bondagegimpSTGT

To be continued…