By Bondagegimp

Dusk

At some point, the sun reaches the horizon – a wonderful play of colors enchants sky and landscape. I turn to Bob. He looks at me with a loving yet slightly sad gaze and kisses me passionately again. As soon as the sun has set, he reaches for the muzzle and puts it on me – this time without a gag, just with the padded leather shell. It doesn’t completely prevent me from speaking, but it’s so tight that I can only open my mouth with difficulty, and my words are very muffled.

Bob stands up, gets a chain and locks: He attaches one end of the chain to the chain between my ankle cuffs, and the other somewhere on my back to the straitjacket. The chain is long enough that I can still kneel, but I can no longer walk. Now Bob starts to clear away the dishes from the picnic. Since he’s leaving me in the straitjacket and has also tied my feet, I can’t help him. So, I just sit there, enjoy the warm evening air and watch Bob collect everything and put it in boxes.

He’s dressed rather casually today, but still very sexy. He’s wearing shorts that reach almost to his knees, made of a slightly shiny, heavy nylon fabric perforated with small holes — presumably to make them more breathable while exercising. The holes aren’t big enough to be see-through, but they still have a certain allure. And with certain movements, you can just glimpse the silhouette of his muscles underneath. The T-shirt is made of the same matching fabric. Both garments have a contrasting stripe on the side: the pants on the side of the legs, the T-shirt on the shoulder, from the neck to the sleeve. I can’t get enough of the sight. Especially when Bob moves, the heavy fabric flows around him like a liquid, highlighting his curves particularly well: his bull neck, his shoulders, his chest, his butt, and his bulge — everything bulges powerfully outward beneath the heavy fabric. He’s also wearing the sneakers I assume he threw into my cell, along with white athletic socks.

I follow every movement with my eyes. When he bends over and his butt is clearly visible in his pants, when his bulge swings back and forth in his pants as he walks (he’s obviously not wearing anything underneath), when he lifts a box and the sleeve stretches over his biceps. I don’t know if he does it intentionally, but he shows me surprisingly often provocative poses, walking close to me so that his bulge is at eye level, a few centimeters in front of me, bending down so that I can see his plump butt. Once, he does it so provocatively close that I slide on my knees towards him and snuggle my head against his butt. Without the straitjacket, I would be clasping his legs, but this way, all I can do is lean against him. Bob stays in the pose for a few minutes, letting me enjoy the feeling of rubbing my cheek against his plump buttock. I believe that without the muzzle, I would not have been able to restrain myself and would have gently bitten into it…

After far too short a time, however, Bob pushes me away so that I fall onto my side. Bob ruffles my head and laughs. “Cheeky little thing! I’ll never finish cleaning up like this!” He tightens the chain from my ankle cuffs to the straitjacket until my feet touch my bottom. Now I can no longer sit up; I can only wriggle back and forth on the blanket rather helplessly. Meanwhile, Bob tidies up the last of the things and takes the boxes to the car. When he comes back, he lies down on the blanket some distance away from me. He lies on his stomach, his legs slightly spread, his head resting on his folded arms. He has laid down so that his spread legs are pointing towards me and I can see him from below – a sight that is as tempting as it is inviting, and surely intentional.

I enjoy the view from my position for a while, hoping Bob will come to me, but he makes no move. Unfortunately, I’m pretty immobile in my restraints and can only gaze at him from a distance. But at some point, I can’t stand it anymore, gather my strength, and just try it. And, with some effort, I actually manage to crawl closer to Bob on my elbows and knees. Little by little, I get closer, finally reaching his feet.

Not least to rest for a moment, I stay here for a while, lying between his feet in his sneakers. I move my head towards one of them and smell it. Yes, I’ll never forget that smell; they are the sneakers he threw into my cell. And they look just as I imagined them. I look at them closely: the large boot-like sneakers, padded at the top, the ankle just sticking out a little. I smell this spot; the smell is different here, a mixture of sneakers and Bob. I’m a little embarrassed that I’m smelling it, so I quickly move further up, brushing my nose over the curve of his calf in his sports socks up to the back of his knee, where the big calf comes together again.

I crawl further up, resting my head on his thigh. Bob’s muscles are completely relaxed, yet very taut. I lie on his bare thigh, looking up at where his thigh disappears into his shorts, the magnificent curve of his buttocks visible behind them. I want to get even closer, now lying with my head on the legs of his shorts, feeling the smooth fabric against my cheek, the curve of his buttocks right in front of my nose. The heavy material follows the curve perfectly, pulling deep into the crack and splitting his buttocks into two plump spheres. I enjoy the view for a while, full of regret that I can’t use my hands or my mouth. I rub my nose against his buttocks, finally licking my head onto his buttocks. Here, too, the muscles are completely relaxed, soft but taut. A bit like the padding in the padded cells. I could lie here forever, but it’s slowly getting a little chilly from the ground. So I push myself further forward. It’s not easy climbing onto Bob in these restraints, but I finally manage. I slide further up until I’m lying completely on his back, my head right between his shoulder muscles and his shaved neck. At that moment, I have that feeling again that I’ll never be able to leave Bob. But mentally, I’m still torn.

Bob was very patient as I slowly worked my way up his body. Now he lets me lie on his broad back for a while. I enjoy the warmth of his body beneath me. My cock has become very hard in the meantime, but is still trapped in the diaper and the thickly padded pants. I notice that Bob wants to turn over, so I slide to the side. As soon as he’s on his back, he pulls me back on top of him so that my head is on his chest and my knees are on either side of his lower body, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I lie on one breast, can see the other in front of me, the fabric clinging to his pectoral muscles, only the nipple poking out. I put my nose to his nipple, playing with it with the tip of my nose until Bob moans softly.

In the cabin

It’s gotten chilly by now, and I’m starting to shiver. Bob notices and turns me sideways. He unties the chain between the straitjacket and the leg irons and sets me on my feet. He folds the blanket and pulls me by the collar towards a cabin, a little higher up the slope. On the way there, he tells me that this is Tom’s garden and cabin, and that Tom is lending it to him today because it’s the most beautiful sunset and here we are undisturbed. In return, Jad and his doggy can use Bob’s playroom and cells today, since Jad doesn’t have such facilities at home. Bob apparently told him about the story on the treadmill and about their night together in the padded cell, and Jad was quite eager to act it out with his doggy. This confirms my suspicion that Jad really admires Bob. I’d like to hear Bob’s perspective on this, but I quickly realize that communicating about more complex topics is really difficult with the muzzle on. I guess I’ll have to do that another time.

When I get up, I see that it wasn’t just my cock that had gotten hard. Bob’s shorts formed a neat tent in the front, and he made no attempt to hide it. It is nice and warm in the cabin. The sun had obviously shone in well and warmed it up nicely. It’s just a small room with a small table, two chairs, and a bed. Bob spreads the blanket on the bed and attaches the chain from the collar to a ring near the bed. He leaves the cabin for a moment and returns shortly after with a pillow and a duvet. His cock is still hard and forms this obscene tent in his shorts. I stare at it, unable to tear my eyes away. I want his cock, want to feel it inside me. Through the muzzle, I whisper, “Please fuck me, Bob!” It is the first time I ever ask him to. Before, he’d just fucked me without my asking.

Bob looks at me for a long time, surprised, pleased, almost amused. He kisses my muzzle and unfastens my padded pants, pulling them off along with my still-unused diaper, and throws me onto the bed, onto my back. He briefly unfastens my ankle cuffs to take of the pants, but then quickly refastens them. He pulls down his pants, and his cock shoots out. He lifts my legs, pulls out the small plug that’s been inside me since afternoon, and pushes his cock inside me. My hole is still well-lubed from the afternoon’s action. This is the first time Bob fucks me from the front, and for the first time I can see him doing it. He’s left his T-shirt on, but he’s taking it off now. I have his magnificent, muscular body in front of me, admiring his muscles as he moves. He is very sensitive, almost tender. Sometimes he bends down towards me, presses me against him. It feels wonderful. If it weren’t for the straitjacket, the muzzle, the collar, and the leg irons, it would be like a normal relationship. Especially after that lovely evening, the picnic, the romantic sunset.

What had Bob said to Tom at the party? A mixture of slave, sex toy, lover, boyfriend, partner, gimp. He said something like that. Today was probably as close to a partner or boyfriend as you can get in a relationship like that with Bob. And it is beautiful. He’s so tender. But there’s something about it that I don’t like. Bob stops fucking me; he sees I’m not focused. He looks at me, confused. For a moment, I’m afraid he’s going to slap me, but he just leans down toward me. “What’s wrong? Are you still thinking about it? Or does something hurt?”

No, that’s not it. I’m missing something. Bob’s cock is huge; the first time, I could barely get it in. Now it feels good, perfect, actually. I think about the training with the thick plug. Before, I found it exhausting and painful, not really hot. But looking back now, there was something about it that aroused a desire in me. Completely new feelings, something I hadn’t experienced before. Bob is still looking at me worriedly. I try to say something into the muzzle, but nothing sensible comes out. He puts his ear close to the muzzle to hear me better. I’m a little embarrassed, and I don’t want him to feel hurt, so I just whisper into the muzzle: “I want more!”

Bob sits up again, at first he seems a bit surprised or irritated, he doesn’t understand what I mean. But then his expression suddenly clears, first with disbelief, then he bursts out laughing. “You want my fist!?” I look at him wide-eyed, feeling somehow caught. Bob can’t stop laughing; it’s a joyful laugh. He hugs me, kisses me all over my head. “I really wasn’t expecting that! I have to get a few things.” He runs to the car and comes back shortly after.

He’s got a large tube of lubricant and a PVC sheet, which he spreads out under me on the bed. Next, to my surprise, he takes the muzzle off again and kisses me deeply and passionately. He grabs my ankle cuffs and pulls them over my head to the headboard, where they are fastened. He lies next to me on the bed and penetrates me with his fingers, repeatedly applying lubricant until my hole is well filled with the slippery stuff. More and more fingers slide into me, deeper and deeper. Bob is more active now, kneeling more than lying down. His other hand reaches under the straitjacket, stroking my body, everywhere he can reach. He also goes to my nipples, sometimes very gently, sometimes he tries to grip them harder, but my body is too slippery with sweat and lubricant. And so, luckily, he inevitably works my nips rather gently, because his fingers keep slipping. His head moves back and forth, sometimes observing my hole, sometimes biting my ass cheek, but more and more often he comes up to me and kisses me.

I move towards him; the chain on the collar is luckily very loose, and when he moves back down, I follow him. I can hardly believe my luck that Bob has freed me from the muzzle. When Bob bends down, I kiss his neck, his back, his shoulders – I take what I can get! I don’t recognize myself anymore; I was always very reserved and shy with the kissing and licking. It probably changed because Bob only lets me near his body in small doses. I’m rarely allowed to touch him, smell him, or be close to him. But I’m allowed to see him often, and sometimes he practically forces his charms on me. He turns my desire into an insatiable longing by showing me how incredibly desirable he is to me, and then repeatedly withdrawing. He’s been doing this for almost two weeks now. And when I finally get the chance to be close to him, no matter how, I lose my inhibitions and forget all the “don’t do that” rules I’ve learned. I then live just as instinctively as Bob — my reptilian brain has also become stronger. I playfully bite Bob’s powerful shoulder muscle. He barely notices.

Maybe Bob is concentrating too much on my hole. He’s using his hand to widen me more and more. Now he makes his first attempt with his whole hand. He makes it as small as possible, but it’s still too big. But not really much bigger than the plug this afternoon. He presses, I try to relax. It’s not enough, but he keeps up the pressure. Kisses me. Strokes my belly with his other hand. Gives me time, but doesn’t let up. A little further. Completely unexpectedly, he takes my cock in his mouth. To my surprise, it has gone limp. Bob sucks on it; it feels wrong, yet somehow good. His hand works its way one step further. My hole is now stretched to its maximum, it’s almost unbearable. My anal sphincter resists, but Bob doesn’t move back a millimeter. Instead, he continues to concentrate on my cock, while his other hand searches for my nipples under the straitjacket.

With a sudden jerk, his hand is inside me. I feel the same reflex as I did this afternoon with the plug. I want to push his hand out, but it reacts differently than even the fixed plug – the hand senses my reaction and moves against it, pressing inwards. I flinch, start to pull his fist inwards, but at that moment Bob pulls his hand out, almost. Halfway there, just as the feeling of relief sets in, he pushes it back in. He does this a few times, then pulls it out completely, only to ram it right back in again. While Bob initially made his fist as slim as possible – not really a fist, more like a slim hand – he now makes it more and more like a real fist, with which he fucks me. In and out. Again and again. My hole feels as if it will never close again, as if the sphincter has given up.

Now Bob pushes his fist into me to its full extent, holding it inside. My intestines try again to push the fist out. Bob resists again. It’s the same unpleasant feeling as this afternoon, this urge to push the foreign object out. Only this time it doesn’t react passively. It just doesn’t let itself be pushed out; Bob reacts. He presses further into me, he starts playing with his fingers inside me, rotating his fist inside me. The unpleasant feeling grows stronger and stronger, becoming unbearable.

Bob’s hand movements intensify it even further. And suddenly it tips. It’s still unpleasant, but there’s a horniness to it. A completely different kind of horniness. It’s not horniness in my cock; it’s deeper inside me. My cock is still not hard, even though Bob is sucking on it. And yet it’s a feeling of horniness so deep I’ve never experienced anything like it before. My efforts to push his hand out become stronger and stronger, unbearably strong. Bob presses against it, I can’t escape him. My mouth, which was just kissing his neck, now bites into his shoulder muscle. So hard that I taste blood. Bob doesn’t let up, he presses and twists with his hand, at the same time he continues to suck on my cock with his mouth.

I feel the climax. It is an orgasm like no other before. Not so explosive. Much more internal. I don’t even know if any semen was released. It was a different kind of orgasm, but incredibly intense. Bob pulls his hand back a little, probably only a few millimeters. But it is incredibly relaxing.

He kisses me. Pulls his hand out of me. I’m still exhausted, but Bob immediately gets back into position. His cock has gotten even harder from the whole action. It slides into my wide-open hole without resistance. After just a few thrusts, he screams with pleasure — I’ve never heard him so loud. He falls on top of me. I see his bleeding shoulder where I bit him. I lick the blood and kiss him. He takes off my ankle cuffs and lies exhausted on top of me. He seems even more overwhelmed by the whole situation than I am. I want to hug him, but my arms are still in the straitjacket. I try to get as close to a hug as possible with my head and my bound arms and legs, wrap my legs around him, and rest my head on his shoulder.

I’m amazed that I was allowed to climax after he had said that afternoon that I wouldn’t cum again until I made a decision. I quietly whisper “Thank you,” and Bob understands. “Sometimes the moment is stronger than the rule.”

Bob spreads my legs a little and puts his fist inside me again. It just slides in. His head comes as close to mine as he can, and I meet him. We kiss. Deeply. Passionately. Time stands still. It is the most intimate moment between us since we met. For the first time since we met, Bob seems truly relaxed. Happy. For a moment, I feel like he’s about to cry. It’s only a brief moment; I can see it in his eyes. But he pulls himself together too quickly. He can’t let it out. But it was that brief moment in which I saw his vulnerable and hurt inner self.

The strong Bob, who always has everything under control, let his facade fall for a moment. He caught himself just in time to avoid having to admit it. But it was that millisecond in which I saw inside him. I saw the real Bob. And he realized that I saw him. He sees me, I see him. At that moment, I sense what he sees in me. There’s this superficial, primary level. I find him hot, his body, his face, his appearance. Maybe he likes me just the same superficial way, how I react to him, how I get hot when he touches me roughly, forces me to do things that contradict my personality.

But behind that, there’s this other level. Bob must have recognized it in me earlier. I thought it was the reptilian brain. But maybe it’s something else. That just now, that wasn’t a reptile. Two souls just now looked at each other. Even if it was only for a split second. We saw each other.

In the end, our reptilian brain is just the result of genes that somehow randomly encounter each other during procreation. From these, stem cells arise that specialize in one direction or the other. My reptilian brain is only part of my self. This division is artificial. I am me. I, as my entire self, made up of body, mind, and soul. I am what I feel, what I sense, what I perceive, what I think. I am not just my head. How could I feel love without the butterflies in my stomach? How could I grieve if I didn’t have a body that contracts with grief? How could I feel joy without a body that jumps for joy? How could I live without my body that absorbs and reflects every stirring of my life? When I feel pleasure, it is my whole body that feels is, my stomach sometimes more than my head. The separation between body, mind, and soul is an academic fabrication. There is no separation. I am me. Bob is Bob. I just saw Bob. As he is. A millisecond. But I saw him, the real Bob. I want more of him. I want him.

Bob looks at me with his piercing gaze. He realizes that I saw something in him that he wanted to hide from everyone. But he doesn’t look like someone who’s been caught. More like someone who feels liberated. At least a little. At least towards me. I see a Bob who is vulnerable and who has been hurt. His appearance as a muscular, tall, always superior strong man is becoming more differentiated. His muscles now seem more like armor against a hostile world. I almost feel like I have to protect him. I want to hug him, but I’m still in the straitjacket. I could say something, but I don’t know what. It’s not a moment for words.

So, I just look at him in silence. He hugs me tightly again, as he often does. Then he stands up, puts his shorts and T-shirt back on, takes a towel, and wipes off the lubricant that has spread everywhere. He grabs the head harness, puts it back on me, as well as the ankle cuffs. I sigh quietly; after this scene, I had hoped to be able to sleep without the muzzle, to be closer to Bob. But Bob is already dosing it again. Not allowing too much. He sits me up in bed, fiddles with the straitjacket on my back, freeing my arms from their crossed position in front of my stomach. I seize the moment and hug him with my hands in the tubes. It’s more of a clutch than a hug. I hold on to him tightly, never wanting to let go. Bob joins in, hugs me, but after a short while, frees himself from my grip.

CCTV

He takes his tablet out of his bag and lies down casually on the bed next to me. “So, do you want to see what Jad and his doggy are up to?” Of course I’m curious, not only about that, but also about Bob’s surveillance cameras! I slide closer to him and just in time to see an overview of all the cameras he has in the house – and in the garden. “The cameras have motion detectors and record as soon as something moves. Sometimes even wild animals roaming through my garden. Jad knows about it; we often exchange videos. Tom and Jad have already seen a few things from you.” Yes, Jad and Tom seem to be his closest friends. They are very different. They sometimes remind me of those cartoons where a little devil sits on one shoulder and an angel on the other. One talks to him kindly, calms him down, the other appeals to his desire, incites him.

Bob starts the video, showing us in the garden this afternoon. I’m lying on Bob’s lap in my thick isolation mask, Jad is playing with my cock. Something black is lying next to him and is apparently licking my balls – the doggy. At first I don’t understand, but Bob zooms in. The doggy is wearing a black rubber suit, but his arms and legs are just stumps. Thick stumps. Apparently his arms and legs are bent and tucked into the suit, so he can’t stretch them out and has to walk on his elbows and knees. This is devilish! A mask is part of the suit. Around his neck is a wide collar that allows little movement of his head. Now Jad is pulling him away from him on the leash and putting a head harness on him with a thick red ball gag, which he now shoves into his mouth and fastens tightly.

“Jad found him online a few years ago. He’s from far away, some backwater town where not much is going on. So, the first session was for a weekend. Jad really took him hard. Well, you already have an idea of Jad. Most guys come once and never again because he can’t control himself. And this one, too, disappeared after that and didn’t get in touch again. But after six months, he finally contacted Jad. He wanted to come back. Ha! Jad, that asshole, made it a condition that he stays four days. But he agreed! And Jad didn’t spare him anything for those four days. After that, there was silence again, until he apparently got too horny again and came back, even though Jad insisted he stays for a week. And this time it’s two weeks. The boy mentioned he wanted to try doggy play. Jad granted his wish, but apparently didn’t tell him that he’d be spending the full two weeks as his doggy without a break.”

I look at Bob, startled. “No, not in that doggy suit all the time. His joints can’t take it. In various bondages, but always in a way that keeps him on all fours. Sometimes just in booties with spikes inside, like the ones you’ve worn.” I take a closer look at Jad. There’s something sinister in his eyes. But he has a really hot body. He’s wearing only a leather harness on top, which really emphasizes his pecs. One strap goes further into his pants, and he’s wearing skin-tight leather shorts that show off a decent physique in the front and a perky ass in the back. He has a remarkable six-pack. He’s generally more wiry than Bob; his muscles are more clearly defined. Bob is beefier. Also muscular and defined, but a bit meatier. You can see from Bob that he likes to eat well and doesn’t count every ounce. He has a flat stomach, but no six-pack. But he’s stronger, broader than Jad. He has more curves. When I see Jad’s legs, they’re wiry and muscular. I turn around and compare them to Bob’s thighs, which are much stronger, thicker. I can’t resist; I grab Bob’s legs and tuck my head between his thighs. Yes, Jad is good-looking, but Bob is much more my type. Bob laughs out loud. I think he understands what was going through my mind. I slide up higher again, burying my face in his pecs.

Bob skips ahead in the video. My curiosity gets the better of me, so I turn back to the video, but continue to lean my head against Bob’s chest. I briefly see us in the tiled room, me strapped to the rack. He fast-forwards to when we leave the house. Next we see Jad pulling the doggy by the leash into the tiled room and strapping him onto the rack, also on his stomach, similar to me, but leaving the stumps free. It looks cute how the doggy paddles with his stumps in the air and can’t do anything. I also see that the doggy’s cock is in a cage, a very small, cramped cage.

Jad attaches the dildo gag to the frame, removes the ball gag from the doggy, presses his mouth onto the dildo, and straps the head on. I’d experienced this myself before. Had Bob shown him the video? It may be a coincidence, but Jad seems to be re-enacting some of the scenes I had with Bob. Now he’s working on the doggy with various dildos and plugs, occasionally fucking him. The doggy waves his stumps helplessly in the air, which stands in striking contrast to his head, which is fixed on the thick dildo and doesn’t move at all. Jad is a bit impatient, rough. Bob apparently agrees. “Jad always needs to be slowed down a bit. He’s too wild. He should give things more time, then they’ll have a better effect.”

Next, Jad plays with the doggy as well, but only briefly. He already has a new idea, unbuckles him, puts the head harness with ball gag back on, inserts an anal hook into his hole, and connects it to the head harness with a chain. He grabs a few more chains, then pulls the doggy out of the room by the leash. The doggy slowly moves behind him on all fours, careful not to pull too hard on the anal hook with his head. It’s obviously a bit uncomfortable. The hook also looked quite thick and long.

Bob winds forward. They arrive in Bob’s gym. I have a feeling what’s coming. The doggy probably does too. He’s resisting. It’s cute, he’s trying to push against the leash like a real dog. But Jad simply picks him up and puts him on the treadmill. The doggy wants to get away, but Jad clamps him between his legs. You can see how nervous the doggy is; he doesn’t seem to like the situation at all, but Jad has already chained him to the bars around the treadmill, so he can’t get away. One chain in particular pulls the anal hook forward. When the treadmill will start, he will have to run, otherwise the plug will impale him. Bob zooms in closer to the head. You can see the doggy’s eyes in the mask and behind the head harness, moving restlessly back and forth. A desperate, pleading look at Jad. He tries to beg too, but the gag doesn’t allow a single intelligible word to come out. Behind me, I feel Bob’s cock hardening. He likes that look, so full of desperation. I know this; I’ve experienced it often enough myself, how it turns him on precisely when fear and desperation rise within me.

In the video, Jad sits down on the chair. It’s like déjà vu; Bob sat down exactly the same way, so I had to see him, with all his muscles and that big bulge! And with his legs just as wide apart, Jad now presents his ample package to the doggy. But Jad makes a big show of the remote control, playing with it, showing it to his doggy, who whines pitifully. Finally, he starts the treadmill. Quite slowly, but the doggy has to fight quite a bit. He whines even louder now. Jad rubs his bulge, his cock already visible under the thin leather. He pulls his chair closer to the doggy so that the doggy has to look at him, but the doggy is looking down at the treadmill. Not satisfied with that, Jad stops the treadmill, pulls on the chain that connects the anal hook to the head harness until the head is slightly raised, thus immobilizing it. The doggy whines even louder and more pitifully now, but Jad turns the treadmill back on. Now he seems satisfied and sits back down on the chair. The doggy is now staring directly at Jad’s crotch and can hardly turn away. Jad slowly increases the speed. You can see the strain on the poor doggy, even though the treadmill isn’t moving fast. I find it hard to imagine how he’s even supposed to run on his elbows and knees like that.

Luckily, Jad quickly becomes bored. Jad tries to speed up the treadmill again, but then realizes that Doggy simply can’t go any faster. Somewhat disappointed, he turns it off and frees Doggy from the chains. Doggy then falls to his side – he must be very exhausted.

Jad immediately pulls him up by his collar out of the gym. Bob winds forward again. The next thing we see is Doggy in the playroom, as Jad pushes him into the small cage and leaves the room. Bob turns off the video and goes back to the overview of the cameras that are apparently transmitting live images. There are a lot of cameras! Bob quickly finds Jad and enlarges the corresponding image.

You can see the two of them in the small cell where Bob and I spent the night. Doggy is lying on the floor and Jad is unzipping the back of his doggy suit. Underneath he is wearing another rubber suit, with a mask! I gasp in astonishment. Jad frees Doggy’s arms, and he stretches them out. It must be tough to be stuck in a suit like that all day. But Jad doesn’t give him a break. He puts the arms behind his back, takes a long rope and first ties his wrists together. He then artfully wraps the two loose ends of the long rope around his arms, starting at his wrists and continuing upwards. His arms are pulled tightly together. It looks quite painful, and every now and then I can hear a groan. Since it’s getting late, I wonder if he wants Doggy to sleep like this.

Only when the arms are completely bound does Jad free the legs from their coverings. Doggy barely has time to relax his legs, as a long rope is immediately used here too. Jad starts at the feet and works his way up with several loops until the legs are also tightly bound together with many loops. The result is quite impressive. Legs and arms are encircled by a regular network of light-colored ropes that contrast vividly with the black rubber suit.

Bob nods approvingly. “Jad is really a master with ropes. I’m not that skilled at it, but I’ve never really tried it. But of course, it looks good, all tied up.” Jad now leaves the cell for a moment and returns a short while later with a few things, including a rather large plug, which he immediately stuffs into Doggy’s hole without much foreplay, causing him to moan and whimper loudly. But Jad doesn’t respond and zips up the crotch of the suit over the plug. Now he turns Doggy to the side and frees his cock from the cage. He ties his cock and balls with a thinner rope – his cock immediately becomes rock hard.

Here, too, two long rope ends remain, and Jad pulls them back between Doggy’s legs, bends his legs slightly, and ties the rope to the ankle cuffs. When Doggy stretches out his legs, he rips at his balls. Nasty! Jad is clearly enjoying himself; he’s constantly rubbing his bulge. Bob seems to like it too. I can feel his hard cock against my back.

But Jad isn’t finished yet. He’s brought a hood, which he puts on Doggy, whose head is already inside the mask of the suit. It appears to have a gag with a breathing tube, which goes into his mouth first. Then the mask is slipped over his head and zipped up, but it seems to be very loose. Even the wide collar that Jad now puts on him and locks on doesn’t change anything. I’m a bit irritated; I would have expected something nastier from Jad. Bob notices and laughs. “Wait and see!” And sure enough, next Jad reaches for a small ball hanging from the mask. He presses it several times, and the mask slowly fills with air. It’s a bellows. I’m slowly understanding the nasty logic of this mask and have to swallow.

“The mask is made of two layers of rubber. The space between is filled with air until the mask fits really tightly.” Bob seems to be very aroused – not only by what Jad is doing to Doggy, but probably also by my reaction to it. “Let’s see if Jad inflates the pump gag too.” Now I see a second balloon, also connected to the mask via a tube, but this time in the mouth area. I know how uncomfortable pump gags can be; Bob has already trained me with them. But never overnight!

Meanwhile, Jad continues to inflate the mask until it’s a thick, plump ball. Bob laughs. “With the mask on, you won’t need a pillow anymore!” I don’t react. I don’t even want to imagine how tight and oppressive it is inside. At the same time, I also feel a certain curiosity. Bob reaches for my cock to check if the scene makes me hard. It doesn’t. But a little bit is stirring. I just hope Bob doesn’t notice.

He keeps his hand on my cock as Jad now inflates the gag and does it properly. Not just once or twice, no, he inflates until Doggy squirms and whines. Then he lets out a little air, but not much. Finally, he grabs a short chain and uses it to attach the collar to the floor, leaving hardly any slack. Jad now goes outside for a moment, turns off the light, and closes the door. The camera apparently has a night vision function; we can continue to follow everything, but only in black and white. But not much else happens. Jad now lies down next to his doggy, takes him in his arms, and will probably fall asleep soon. I doubt Doggy can do that, too.

Luckily, my cock didn’t get hard during the scene, although I must admit it did excite me a little. But Bob noticed even that little bit. He squeezed my balls. “I knew it would turn you on. I can feel the blood flowing to your cock!” I especially noticed how excited Bob was! His cock was pressing harder and harder into my back. I’m afraid he was getting his start from Jad. I’m still in the straitjacket, but I’ve been pretty relaxed the whole time since the sleeves were free. I’m still hoping to be allowed to spend the night like this. A minor restriction, since my hands are useless in the straitjacket tubes anyway, and there’s still the muzzle and the collar with the chain. That might be enough! After this romantic, intimate evening, that would be a good night! And indeed, Bob now goes to the straitjacket and opens the first strap on my back.

Blind

For a moment, I think he’s going to take off my straitjacket. But after a brief second of hope, I realize he’s tightening the straps instead. He does this with all the straps on my back, one after the other. My arms are still free, but now he’s fastening the sleeve ends to my thighs. He uses the straps my sleeves were previously threaded through to secure my arms to my sides. He then takes a few more long straps out of a bag. He stretches them around my torso and arms, one every few centimeters, pressing my arms even tighter against my body until I can barely move them.

Then he lays me back down, tightens the chain on the collar so I can no longer sit up, and puts my diaper and spreader pants back on. But first, he stuffs a plug into my stretched hole. It’s not the small one like before, but one of the really big ones from the red series. I moan quite a bit as he pushes it in, like doggy did before. Bob grins, I think that’s exactly what he wanted to hear. I’m starting to get the feeling that Bob and Jad are sometimes egging each other on with what they do.

My hole is still bruised from Bob’s fist, still pulsing slightly. The plug has reawakened the memory and kept it alive. Bob will like that, too. I notice him crossing the crotch straps of the straitjacket between my legs to make sure they hit the plug properly. Then he pulls them tight until the plug drills deep into my hole.

Finally, Bob attaches the chain between my feet to the bottom of the bed. I can still move a little, but not much. Next, he sits on top of me, chest-high, with his legs spread so that his thighs are to either side of my head and his bulge is right next to my nose. He stays there for a few minutes, just watching me. I look at him sitting above me, seeing all his bulges beneath the heavy nylon fabric — the bulge with his still-hard cock, his pecs, his biceps. Now he bends forward to grab something at the head of the bed, pressing his fat bulge into my face. I notice he’s attaching something to the head harness, a chain, at the top of my head. He pulls it tight until I feel a strong tug on my head. I feel uneasy again, and I start to talk into the muzzle, to beg Bob to spare me the tight restraints tonight. But before I can say a word, I see Bob shaking his head and gesturing with a finger to his lips for me to be quiet. He reaches beside him and threateningly shows me the gag he could insert into the muzzle.

I realize I shouldn’t misinterpret this romantic and intimate evening as meaning that Bob would now touch me more gently. Is this Bob’s way of expressing his love? And I have to admit, my cock is already enjoying it again.

Bob stays sitting above me like that for a while, watching me as I try to devour his body with my eyes. When he supports himself with his hands to either side of my head, he squeezes his pectoral muscles, causing them to bulge forward. I can’t get enough of it. I’d love to bury my face in them, but I can’t lift my head a millimeter now because of the chain on the top of the head harness. I can’t even properly push his bulge, which is pressing against the muzzle. Bob is once again so close, yet so far away. And he enjoys seeing how I yearn for him.

Now he reaches for a small tin. “A gift from Jad, for letting him use my playroom.” I get scared. A gift from Jad, it can’t be anything harmless. But such a small tin? What could be so bad? Bob likes my uncertain look, so he lets me squirm for a while. Finally, he opens the small tin and takes out something even smaller; I can’t recognize it.

He leans down, right next to my face, reaches to my right eye, pulls my eyelids apart with one hand, and touches my pupil. Suddenly, everything goes black. Bob leans back again, and I fidget in panic. What’s happened? I can’t see anything out of my right eye anymore? It takes me a moment to realize that it’s probably a contact lens, a black, opaque contact lens! I beg Bob to take it out again, and for a moment I think he will, but instead he reaches for the gag. He removes the padded leather shell, pushes the gag into my mouth, and fastens it to the head harness.

He leans over me again, enjoying my frightened look, my nervous snorts into the gag, and reaches for the tin again. I turn my head left and right, squeezing my eyes shut, but Bob clamps my head between his thighs, pulls my left eyelids apart, and approaches with the second black contact lens. This time I see it clearly. It’s the last thing I see. The image is burned into my memory: In the foreground, Bob’s finger with the black contact lens, behind him his muscular arm, his broad torso, his face with a devilish grin. His cock has become hard, pushing out wide in his shorts and sticking out over my nose. Then everything goes black.

To be continued…

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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.

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Romeo: bondagegimp

Recon: bondagegimpSTGT