By bondagegimp

To start at the very beginning, click for Part 1

The party

Bob had already changed into very, very short leather shorts that just barely covered his powerful butt and ended where his thigh muscles began to bulge. On top, he was wearing only a tank top that showed off his muscular upper arms. It was, once again, incredibly sexy. What worried me was that if he was going to the party like this, he wasn’t making much of a secret of his fetish. So what would he pick out for me?

Bob leads me on a leash into one of the rooms next to the cell—another tiled room with shower facilities. Near one wall, a chain hangs from the ceiling, attached to a winch. He attaches the ring on the front of my muzzle to it, directly under my nose. Then he tightens the chain over the winch. I have to follow the chain; at first, it pulls my head up so that I have to look up, but Bob continues until I have to stand on tiptoes, facing the wall. Now he loosens all the restraints, but I hang completely helplessly from the head harness. He then takes off my PVC suit, my diapers, and removes my plug, catheter, and all the other cock rings, etc.

He washes off my sweat, quickly rinses my hole again, and dries me off. I stay hanging there the whole time, so I have to stand on tiptoes. Now he comes along with something red and shiny – a red rubber shorty. I’m still hoping he’ll put something over it. When he puts the shorty on me, it gets even worse: I can feel several openings in the shorty: one in the front, through which Bob pulls my cock and balls, then my whole ass seems to be exposed, and there are large, round openings around my nipples. The sleeves and legs are pretty short. In fact, there are only a few strips of rubber covering me. Does he want to take me to the party like this?? But he’s not finished yet. He pulls a black rubber harness over the rubber shorty. A tight cock ring holds my cock nice and taut, from there straps go in all directions and encircle my upper body. Only the crack of my ass remains exposed. At the back, the straps run to the left and right of my ass cheeks.

Sturdy leather cuffs are now placed on my upper arms, and the fist mitts from the car are placed on my hands again. “I gave them to you, I didn’t forget. You can wear YOUR own fist mitts today.” Now, my left hand is tied to my right upper arm and vice versa, so that my hands are practically crossed behind my back, parallel to each other. My arms and hands are thus completely out of the way.

Now Bob turns his attention to my feet: they are given red rubber knee socks, over which a padded steel frame is strapped. I have a suspicion as to what these are supposed to do, and when Bob loosens the chain that is holding me at up the muzzle, it is confirmed. The steel frames force my feet into a position where I can only walk on tiptoes – I can no longer put my feet down normally! A short chain is then placed between the foot frames, and a wide, specially shaped collar made of extra-thick leather is placed around my neck over the collar of the muzzle – it prevents almost all head movement, both up and down and sideways! Bob then hooks the chain of the leash to this, and we are ready to go.

My fears about how Bob might take me to the party were far exceeded. I was afraid he would force me to wear a diaper under my clothes. Instead, he’s dressed me in an absolutely obscene outfit. My cock sticks out prominently, always at least semi-erect thanks to the cock ring of the harness, which tightly encloses my cock. My ass is completely visible through the rear opening, and my nipples are also accentuated by their own holes. I feel more naked than naked, completely on display like a sex object. It suddenly hits me: He never intended to introduce me to his friends as a friend, possible boyfriend, or partner. He wants to present me at the party as his slave!

Before I can think much about it, I’m being dragged up the basement stairs by my collar. Walking while bound this way is very unusual and stiff: the frames on my feet are wobbly, my arms are completely fixed behind my back, and my head is almost immobile. Bob pays no attention to this and pulls me out of the house and to the car. Bob lays me in the trunk so that my semi-erect cock sticks out between my thighs. The collar is then attached to an eyelet on the floor of the loading area – probably the same eyelet I was attached to when Bob put my diaper on me in the car. Only this time I’m lying on my stomach. My feet are bent and connected with a chain to the ring on top of my head harness. At first it’s quite loose, but then Bob pulls the chain up to the ceiling of the trunk so that both my legs and head are slightly lifted off the floor of the loading area, just enough at the head to put tension on the chain between the collar and the floor. It’s already a pretty uncomfortable position, but Bob adds another addition: a large steel ball on a hook, which he now pushes into my hole and secures at the front. He wraps a leather strap around my balls and ties it at the back. But all the fastenings have a bit of play; they’re not as tight as I’m used to from Bob.

He gets in the front seat and we drive off. I smell the cake, which is probably on the passenger seat next to Bob. Already in the first corner, I sense the significance of the slightly loose restraints: I’m so restrained that every movement of the car—left, right, braking, accelerating—tosses me back and forth, only to be abruptly brought to a halt by the chains! Every curve, every intersection, every maneuver makes me feel my restraints; the ride becomes a challenge, but at the same time, it shows me that I’m now simply being transported! At first, I try to hold on, but eventually I give up and just let the car push me around. Sometimes I’m slowed down by a pull on my balls, sometimes on the hole, always combined with a pull on the head harness and my legs—I can’t do anything, I just have to let it happen…

The drive takes a long time—at least an hour. I’m pretty exhausted by now from struggling with the chains, and I’m relieved when Bob apparently parks the car. At the same time, I’m getting uneasy. Does Bob really want to lead me around in this outfit? I’m still hoping he’s just trying to scare me. But Bob unties me, attaches the leash, and pulls me out of the trunk. We’re somewhere in the countryside. Fortunately, the ground is quite solid, because otherwise I’d have difficulty moving in the metal frames. The short chain between my feet makes walking even more difficult, and so I have to half-limp, half-hop behind Bob to keep up with his brisk pace.

He walks purposefully toward the house, then past me to the left into the garden. It’s a barbecue; there are maybe 15-20 men there, standing in groups, talking, drinking beer. From the looks of it, it’s a party with a slight fetish element. Many are showing off a bit of fetish, leather, rubber, sportswear, but everyone is dressed as if they were going to a library or a store. Upon closer inspection, I might recognize a leather collar on one or two of them, but that’s about it. No one is dressed anywhere near as obscenely as I am, with a bared cock, bare bottom, nipples shamelessly accentuated by holes. Add to that the shackles, the foot frames I have to tiptoe through, the muzzle with a gag.  And then there’s the bright red rubber! As we approach, everyone is already looking us over. I want to run away in shame, resisting Bob’s tug on the leash. But Bob keeps walking undeterred, the leash firmly in his grip, the cake in his other hand. We get to the garden, I’m so embarrassed! Everyone is staring at me, and to top it all off, my cock is hard and standing up straight – the harness is doing its job.

Bob greets the first group; they hug each other. I stand next to them, held on a leash, stiff with my wide collar, on tiptoes, my arms behind my back, pushing my upper body forward and presenting my stiff cock in an even more obscene gesture. My attire seems to arouse the curiosity of the other guests. After or even while they greet Bob, they blink over at me, some curious, others shy, some openly full of lust. I look down in shame but try to sneak a look at the guys out of the corner of my eye. Many are average-looking, but some are pretty hot.

A tug on the leash, and we move on to the next group, comfortably seated on a terrace. Here, the hugs and stares continue. One appears to be the host; Bob hands him the cake. “Tom, happy birthday! My slave baked this cake for you.” The guys have stood up to greet me and are now more or less standing around me. Tom wants to know if Bob has finally found his permanent slave, and Bob tells him the story of the disappointment in the bar and then how we met. While Bob is talking, some of the guys come very close to me, among them one they call Jadran, or Jad: compactly muscular, with ash-blond hair, a Slavic type with hard cheekbones. Shorter than Bob, but still a few centimeters taller than me. He’s a bit pushy; he’s already got a hand on my shoulder and has even briefly brushed my bottom. He asks if he can touch me.

Bob: “You know the rules!”

What rules? I grunt into the gag, but Bob gives me a look that immediately silences me. What rules? Are there rules about how a slave can be touched and by whom? I have a bad feeling. “But first I wanted to see something else. Tom, you have that new spreader bar, don’t you? I’d like to try it out, if I may.” Tom just grins briefly and comes back a minute later with a rod in his hand. I don’t like it at all; it’s a spreader bar with another bar extending across the middle. A rather huge dildo is mounted on it. I whine into the gag as they approach me with the device. Everyone around seems to be enjoying it and is happy to help: two hold me, one takes off the chain between my legs. Another comes with lube and starts lubricating the plug, while the others attach the spreader bar between my legs. They admire the frames on my feet, which force me onto my tiptoes. The guy with the lube has lubricated the dildo and is now working on my hole, lubricating it as well. I’m uncomfortable and want to turn away, but two, including Jad, are holding me securely.

Jad now puts a hand around my cock, holding me firmly there too. The spreader bar is now secured, and my feet are now held 60 cm apart. They now aim the dildo at my hole; the height of the bar is adjustable. When the dildo touches my hole, I flinch. As it pushes in, I moan into the gag. It’s thick, probably almost as thick as Bob’s cock. They push it in deeper and deeper until it can go no further, then they lock it in place. I am now impaled on a pole that sits on the spreader bar between my feet.

Bob and Tom stood by the side the whole time and just watched, Bob with a grin on his face. “Jad, do you want to show him around? I’d like to see how he walks with it.” Walking, like that??? I can barely stand with the footrests, the spreader bar, and the dildo pressing into my hole. But Jad happily takes the leash and pulls on it, and I have no choice but to follow him – if I don’t want to fall forward on my face. Every step is torture. I have to concentrate very hard; I’m still very unsteady on my tiptoes. And now I have to walk with my legs spread because of the spreader bar. But the worst part is: with every step, the dildo moves back and forth in my hole, which is uncomfortable on the one hand, and stimulates my prostate on the other. This makes my cock even harder, and from the outside it looks like I’m enjoying it. Jad leads me through the garden on the leash. Slowly at first, then faster. We walk past the other groups that had formed. Wherever we pass, I’m touched – sometimes someone tugs my nipple, sometimes someone slaps my butt. The more inquisitive ones sometimes even grab my cock or balls.

With the wide collar, I can’t turn my head, so I only see Bob when Jad pulls me roughly in his direction. Bob continues chatting with Tom, pointing at me, both of us laughing. Finally, we’ve finished our tour, and Jad pulls me back to Bob and hands him the leash. “What a hot little fellow you’ve got yourself! I’d have plenty ideas what do with him!” I shudder. I think Jad is considerably rougher than Bob. While he talks to Bob, he gropes me—Bob lets him. When he grabs my balls and squeezes harder, I resist, grunt into the gag, and bend over to push him away. Tom suggests taking me to another part of the terrace, a few meters away, to a pergola. There’s a hook on the sturdy wooden beam, and Tom already has a chain ready. My head harness is immediately hooked in and I am now standing completely defenseless on the terrace, half-naked, on tiptoes, with my legs spread, hands securely fastened behind my back, in a provocatively vulgar outfit, surrounded by a bunch of men who are looking at me with increasing lasciviousness.

Bob and Tom sat down on two chairs nearby and talked. Depending on the ambient noise, I could follow their conversation. By now, more guys had gathered around me, touching and groping me. I looked pleadingly at Bob, but he was engrossed in his conversation, only occasionally glancing over at me. Meanwhile, Jad was playing with my cock. He pulled back my foreskin until it hurt and started playing with my glans with his somewhat rough fingers. A second guy joined him, firmly grasped my balls, and worked on one of my nipples with his mouth. Sometimes gently with his tongue, sometimes sucking, sometimes biting. Jad now moved on to the other nipple, doing something similar there while continuing to play with my glans. Time and again, when my nipples or balls start to hurt, I reflexively try to turn away or duck, but the restraints relentlessly force me into this position, upright on tiptoes with my legs spread wide. If I grunt into the gag, at most one of the two will press against my muzzle.

My cock stays hard the whole time, even though I’m totally embarrassed by the situation. Complete strangers are playing with me, and I have to endure it all, completely defenseless. After a while, a younger guy joins me, one of those wearing a collar. He kneels between my legs and licks my crotch. First he licks the insides of my thighs, then my balls, which the other guy still has a firm grip on. While one of them is still gripping them, squeezing and pulling, the other takes them into his mouth, sucking on them, and licking on them.

There are more and more of them. I feel a second tongue working on the crack of my ass, around the dildo. A fifth guy is fondling me from behind, gently biting my neck and trying to push a finger into my hole next to the dildo. I’m completely overwhelmed. Yes, I feel lust, very strong lust, I can’t deny that, but there’s so much of it, everywhere! Now someone is biting my calf, playing with my feet in the racks. It’s completely overstimulating, and every now and then it’s painful. Lust, yes, but too much! And at the same time, I have no control whatsoever; they can all do anything to me, within the ominous rules. Bob has simply left me to them as a toy, and he sits there and looks over with amusement every now and then.

Jad plays with my glans so much that I’m constantly close to orgasm. After a while, it becomes unbearable, and the desire for release is so great that I try to fuck into his hand, but he skillfully avoids it. It all becomes too much; I look pleadingly at Bob, but he just grins and is otherwise engrossed in his conversation with Bob. I keep catching snatches of words, but only when everyone around me is relatively quiet and I can concentrate for a moment, despite everything that’s happening to me. I can tell that they’re talking about me, and that Tom is probably one of the people with whom he discussed this idea of a permanent slave. He also tells him about the two guys in the bar, but I only understand fragments of sentences. Rarely can I follow an entire passage.

“I’ve never seen you so in love, Bob. What’s going on between you? What does ‘slave on trial’ mean?”

“Oh, it’s complicated… yes, the boy triggers something in me, I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know what he means to me either. Sometimes I see him as a slave, then more as a sex toy, sometimes he’s almost a lover to me, and then I just want to lock him away somewhere as a gimp. Knowing that he’s stuck in a cell in the basement makes me so hot… But after I feel so sorry for him that I want to hold him in my arms forever. We’re always alternating between these roles. I’ve never had anything like this before. In any case, I’m so glad he’s staying a while longer. This morning it looked like he was going to leave, which almost broke my heart. But luckily, something stopped him.”

“Did you manipulate him, use your seductive powers again?”

“Haha, I don’t manipulate anyone!! Well, maybe a little. I wanted to show him again what he was losing. We soaped each other up in the shower. But honestly, I was so sad at the thought of losing him that I wasn’t fully focused. But it obviously wasn’t easy for him to just leave either. I don’t know what it was: his desire, his curiosity, maybe his affection for me, or just the whole situation…”

Suddenly, I feel a finger in my hole, next to the dildo. The guy managed to get it in. The sudden pain tears me out of the conversation; now the guys around me are talking too loudly. There are even more of them. One of them is now running his finger around the dildo. Others are fondling my thighs, playing with the crack of my ass. Others are feeling my handcuffs behind my back, kneading my upper arms, my shoulders. I try to shake them off, but of course, to no avail. I want to keep listening; I’m really interested!

“And how will this continue? How long will the trial period last?”

Yes, I’m interested in that too!!!

“For a while. I thought…”

Fuck. Jad and a guy are chatting away. I grunt loudly into the gag. Shut up! They look at me, puzzled, and just laugh. Bob glances over briefly, then continues talking.

“…But if I see that it’s not for him, I would let him go immediately. You know, I don’t want to enslave anyone against his will. But with him, it’s difficult. Look at him! The way he’s standing there, the way he’s writhing! He’s almost fainting with pleasure. I don’t think he’s experienced many situations in his life in which he felt so much pleasure. And at the same time, he doesn’t want to admit it. You should have seen the look on his face when he realized what outfit I was bringing him here in. He probably thought he could come in his normal clothes. His biggest fear was maybe having to wear a plug underneath or something. When I put his outfit on him, he turned red with shame. Although he might have still hoped that I would put something over him and just scare him. But then, when we arrived and I pulled him along on the leash, he resisted so much! It’s a good thing I tied him up so securely, otherwise he would have really run away! And now he’s practically bursting with horniness! But he’s so ashamed of it! He doesn’t want to admit it.”

“And what does that mean for you and the trial period…”

I yelp briefly. Someone has inserted a second finger into my hole next to the dildo! Apparently a second guy, because they’re now playing with it together, pulling in different directions, stretching my hole. They’re laughing too loudly! I can’t understand anything anymore. Jad is standing behind me now, one hand still on my cock, with the other stroking my muzzle, pulling my head back as far as the chain allows. I resist; every movement of my head makes it even harder to listen.

“…And that is his inner conflict, the tragedy of his life. He is torn. In captivity, he will long for freedom. In freedom, his desire for captivity increases! How will he ever find fulfillment? I don’t know if he can ever choose wholeheartedly for one or the other.”

“And what if he does surrender voluntarily? Have you tried the mask thing? A day in a mask works wonders for some people! It softens them up…”

“I did that to him yesterday. It made him incredibly clingy. This morning I felt guilty about it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It didn’t bother me otherwise. You know how I played with some people, how I manipulated their feelings.”

“Haha, yes, indeed!! And always with full body commitment! Didn’t you once have a guy like that who … ”

Aaaah! My nipple! One of them is biting it way too hard! I scream briefly into my gag, trying to escape the bite. The two fingers in my hole continue to play, penetrating deeper. A guy is sucking hard on my balls. Hands everywhere, tongues, mouths. Hands slide under my rubber suit, smearing my sweat everywhere. One of them is nibbling on my ear. Jad has put on a condom and is trying to push his cock into my hole alongside the dildo. The two fingers are helping him. I can feel two tongues on my thighs; someone else has taken Jad’s position on my nipple in the meantime.

“…that’s why I don’t want that. I could make him do it, I know. But I don’t feel good about it. If he ever agrees, voluntarily or through manipulation, to become my slave, then he’s no longer himself. Then something inside him has broken, then he’s broken. I don’t want that. If I could wish for something: I want him the way he is now. With these contradictions, this inner resistance. That’s his nature, that’s what I love about him, I don’t want to ruin it. And you know, that’s probably my inner conflict, my tragedy. I’ll never…”

Uuuuhhh! Jad is just pushing his cock in. The others are cheering him on! His hand is still on my cockhead, gripping it more forcefully now. Almost everyone has gathered now, watching the scene; Bob and Tom have also stood up and are now watching with interest. One is still sucking on my balls, one is licking the inside of my thighs. Two are working on my nipples with their mouths. Jad is fucking me next to the dildo. It’s painful, but the feeling of horniness is stronger. Jad is also getting more and more horny, fucking me faster and faster, his hand playing with my cockhead more and more intensely. I can feel an orgasm coming. Everyone is watching, it’s so embarrassing! I squirt in a high arc into the crowd, everyone cheers. Shortly after, I feel Jad coming too; he collapses in exhaustion. I’m more hanging in the head harness than standing…

Bob comes to me, pushes the others aside. He hugs me; it’s so good to feel him again. I want to fall into his arms, but the restraints hold me. Turning to Jad, Bob simply says, “You know what this means?” Bob tosses him a set of keys. Jad nods and comes to me. He removes the spreader bar with the dildo, then the chain on the head harness, and leads me by the leash to a spot on the lawn where a large blanket has been spread out. He sits me down, attaches my feet to chains that lead to pegs next to the blanket, opens my wrists, and then attaches my hands to similar chains. Now he tightens the chains a little more until I’m lying there like an outstretched X.

Jad is suddenly caring. He gives me something to drink through the gag. Then he lies between my legs, begins to stroke me gently, and gently takes my cock into his mouth. Two of the young guys with collars come over, lie down next to me, stroke me gently, lick my nipples and my armpits through the rubber suit. Everything is much quieter than it was a moment ago. A few guys also come over, bringing chairs, and sit down so they can watch the scenes, drinking beer, eating grilled food, and chatting. From snatches of conversation, I gather that if someone makes another man’s slave cum, they have to get him hard again within a certain amount of time. From the cheers of the audience, I can tell that Jad probably managed it much faster. Although I somehow don’t think it’s fair that he’s being applauded for it. I think my performance is undervalued!

But with the help of the two boys, he’s actually managed to get me horny again. They don’t stop, though; they just keep going. Very gentle, very restrained, but very persistent, all three of them. I enjoy the situation, I have to admit. It’s much more pleasant than having to stand on tiptoes with my head tied. I enjoy Jad sucking my cock with my eyes closed until he suddenly stops. I open my eyes and see Bob standing between my legs. Jad quickly crawls away. “There’s still one punishment left, isn’t there? You dropped one, well, almost two eggs. The agreement was that I’d spank you for that.”

The announcement tears me out of what had just been a briefly pleasant situation! Yes, I had that in mind too! But I thought this would happen sometime later, at Bob’s, at home? Not now, here?? Surely he can spare me this humiliation!! But Bob unties me, in exactly the reverse order, so that in the end my hands are tied together parallel behind my back, just like before. He pulls me by the leash to a chair, sits down, and simply lays me over his legs. I resist, but Jad is there immediately, ties my feet together, and ties them under Bob’s legs to my collar. Then I feel the first blow on my bottom. It’s a shock. Unexpected! But not yet so painful. He slaps me on the bottom with his bare hand! After a few blows, he stops. All the guys have gathered around us, watching. Bob explains why he’s spanking me. Some laugh. Bob carries on. He doesn’t count, that’s not what he’s concerned about. He just keeps going. At first, I find it childish. It barely hurts; it’s more symbolic. I find it especially embarrassing, as an adult, to be treated like this in front of other adults; I turn my face away.

After a few hits it becomes quite painful. I squirm. Bob carries on undeterred. Now it really hurts, I grunt into the muzzle. Bob just carries on. I kick, scream into the gag. Shit, that hurts!! One shouts: “Look how hard he is again!!” The guys yell. A blush rises in my face. I feel how helpless I am! Bob ignores it. Carry on. I feel my body tensing up. Tears well up. I can’t hold them back. The first tears roll down my cheeks. By now I’m no longer trying to turn my face away, I turn my head from side to side. My full bladder can no longer hold itself in, I squirt some piss onto the ground – in front of everyone! I hear laughter. It’s so embarrassing! Everyone is watching as I collapse, as I turn into a howling bundle. Bob keeps going, spanking me until I can’t think anymore.

Finally he stops! He undoes the restraints that connect my collar to my feet. I hear Tom say, “You really seem to love him. I’ve never seen you treat a sub so gently.” I’ve completely collapsed, I just want to hide. It’s a mixture of pain, despair, and shame. I crawl to Bob, bury my face between his thighs. The short leather shorts, his thick bulge noticeable within. His cock quite hard. His thighs with the dark hair, bare against my face. I howl softly, in desperation and in relief. Bob strokes my head. At this moment I need Bob. I need him so much! I want to bury myself in him. I try. I press my head deeper and deeper into his lap. I want to disappear. Bob strokes my head, pressing his thighs together at the same time. The pressure feels good. I forget the world around me, my embarrassment, I am here, with Bob, so close, completely with him. I can forget the world around me. I feel comfortable. I’m afraid of the moment when I have to leave this place. I press myself even closer to Bob. He squeezes my head, strokes it. I still can’t hold back my tears.

I hear Bob talking, or rather shouting. Then silence. Bob lifts my head. We’re alone. He’s sent everyone away. He pulls my head toward him. Pressing me against him, against his chest, that muscular chest. I slowly calm down. Everything’s fine with Bob. He spanked me until I cried. But now he’s comforting me. That’s more important, somehow. What did he say before? He doesn’t want to manipulate me? He’s doing it anyway, he can’t help it. His presence alone messes with my mind.

Bob calls for one of the younger guys to bring him a bag from Bob’s car. Bob puts a diaper on me now, I don’t care anymore. Before that, a plug goes into my hole, and over the diaper goes a leather harness that grips my hips, thighs and, above all, through my crotch – a dense network of leather straps that tightly fasten the diaper and the plug. After the blows to my bottom, it surprisingly gives me a cozy feeling of security. Nevertheless, I bury my head in Bob’s muscles as quickly as I can. He now also loosens the strict bindings on my arms behind my back; instead, my hands are fastened in their fist mitts to the sides of the harness around the diaper, which is a relief for my arms. Meanwhile, the younger guy with the collar takes the frames off my feet and replaces them with softer leather cuffs connected by a short chain.

Meanwhile, Tom has sat down with us again; the young man gets us food and drinks. I’m still kneeling between Bob’s thighs. Bob takes the gag out of the muzzle, feeds me grilled meat, bread, and even gives me beer to drink. I don’t dare speak; I hope he won’t put the gag back on if I stay quiet. I feel better, snuggle up to Bob. He hugs me, massages my back. The young man sits with Tom in a similar position, only without restraints, except for the collar. This is locked but not attached anywhere. It’s more symbolic, it seems to me. Bob and Tom continue to talk, all sorts of things, but nothing that concerns or interests me. Dusk falls, a fire warms us somewhat, and I doze off, Bob’s hand on my head, my head still in his lap, against his leathery bulge, his bare, hairy, and muscular thighs.

I must have fallen asleep. I wake up when Bob gets up, pulling me by the leash. I follow him without thinking, still sleepy, and I’ve gotten used to just following Bob anyway. We go to his car, he folds down a few seats, rolls out an air mattress on the back, and puts a sleeping bag on top. At his signal, I crawl onto it, he lies down next to me, attaches the collar of my muzzle to a chain, closes the trunk lid, zips up the sleeping bag around both of us, takes me in his strong arms, and falls asleep.

I’m lying in his arms, pressed tightly into a sleeping bag with Bob. My hands are in my fist mitts, handcuffed to my sides. A diaper. Underneath, the rubber shorts. The plug. The leg irons. The muzzle, without a gag, but with a chain to a hook on the truck bed. Even half asleep, I’m still thinking how absurd this all is. Three days ago, I couldn’t have imagined anyone could sleep like that in a sleeping bag, and certainly not me! But in Bob’s arms, everything feels right.

To be continued…

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Click to start at Part 1

***

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.

And by the way. If there is a “Bob” somewhere outside, please contact me on Recon or Romeo. If there is more than one: I have a few requests and would be happy to pass them on. I think many of us would love to fall into the same trap. Thanks!

Please feel free to comment here or send me your comments directly. You’ll find me:

Romeo: bondagegimp

Recon: bondagegimpSTGT