By Cutieboy90

cutieboy90“Uhh, are you sure about this?” I asked George for the hundredth time.

George’s scruffy blonde face looked up from the project on his bench. “‘Course I’m sure!” He blew across the surface of the wood, sending a cloud of powdery shavings into the air. “Now I think this’ll do.” He picked up the two blocks from the bench, and walked over to where I stood. I put the sketches down and held my arms out. George placed the blocks over my forearms and inspected the fit.

“Perfect!” He exclaimed. “How does it feel?”

I tried twisting my wrists side-to-side to gauge the clearance. “Yeah, it’s good…” There really wasn’t anything to complain about, no pinching, no tightness.

“Good.” George smiled as he tousled the wood dust out of his hair, and wiped at his brow with a rag. “Well, let’s get you in shall we? Clothes off!”

I began to take my clothes off, George lending an all-too eager hand. I blushed as the back of his hand brushed my skin. I liked George, yes. In fact, I’d always liked him. We’d been friends since we met in high school woodshop. We still made plenty of projects together in his garage-turned-workshop, but nothing quite like this…

I was now standing in my boxers, half-tented in front of a wall of solid oak. The entire surface had been carved and stained to look like bark, except for a man-shaped area in the middle that was smooth, where I would be.

“Boxers too, dude.” George’s words brought my attention back to the task at hand.

“Come on, the last thing I need is a splinter down there,” I protested. “Can’t I keep them on?”

“Sorry man,” he grinned. “You know I work with strict tolerances.” George was smirking, his blue eyes sparkling behind his large plastic safety glasses.

I pulled my boxers off, folding them slightly into the pile of my clothes. George held open a plastic bag for my clothes and then put them onto a chair in the corner. I stepped up next to the oaken wall, my back to the wood. The area where I was to lay had been carefully sanded, varnished, and given a waterproof coating.

The smooth wood was cold against my back. It took a minute to get used to it. Meanwhile George was fastening the ankle blocks to secure me to the wall. By ankle blocks, I mean two carved wooden restraints that covered my entire foot. They slid into place on dovetails, trapping my feet in place. My legs were spread, knees slightly bent. George had said this design would help distribute my weight without discomfort. But it did nothing to help my nerves.

As he slid the blocks for my legs in place, my dick started to grow. More than just the half-boner I’d maintained so far, it was now throbbing at full-mast. I liked George on his knees, I guess…

He smirked again, and swatted my boner out of his face. “I’m afraid there won’t be any room for that, either.” He winked.

I blushed hard. “Sorry…” I reached down and pinched my glans to make myself soft.

“It’s ok,” George comforted as he collected the next pieces. “I know you like this…” He swaggered as he walked, showing off how well he filled out his Carharts. I bit my lip, willing myself soft.

The next pieces covered and restrained my thighs, waist, and part of my torso. These would slide into place on dovetails like the ankle blocks, only they would also have screws to help keep them in place and support me. I let out a sigh as the lacquered surfaces fit into place. The contoured interiors fit like a glove, and I couldn’t move much. I watched as George lined up the screws and twisted each one in place. Looking down, I could also see the final product taking shape.

This was an art project commissioned by the local woodworkers guild, and would depict a man as one with a tree. The carved bark would contrast against the smooth polish, the light colors of oak and beech against the darker hues of cherry and walnut, inanimate wood against living flesh, all brought together by the skill and artistry of man. Yet in that harmony, man was also bound by it, as I could attest in the most literal way.

Speaking of wood, my dick was trapped trying to get hard in the tight confines of its wooden prison. Immobilized from the waist down, in a solid wooden sculpture. George’s work was always incredible, but damn were tight tolerances really necessary for my poor dick? I’d had more room in actual chastity cages…

“Alright, arms up!” George indicated with the wrist blocks. I placed my hands in their position over my head, and he climbed up on the ladder to secure the blocks in place. His chest pressed against my face as he did his work. He smelled of sawdust, sweat, and a touch of smoke. I’d always found his smell intoxicating. My dick throbbed angrily in response. I huffed as the wrist blocks slid into place, removing the last of my freedom.

George stepped down. “Gotta get the screws,” he said. He picked them off the table and then reascended the ladder. I rolled my eyes as my field of vision was once again taken up by George’s torso. He was reaching up to turn the screws in, lifting his shirt up just enough for me to see his abs peeking out from under the hem. Maybe it was good that I was restrained like this. I was swooning at the sight of George so close I could lick him if I wanted to. I was tempted. I began to part my lips to do just that when he suddenly stepped up with one foot. Instead of a lick to his abs, I got a mouthful of his crotch!

“MMmmmm…!” I could feel his hardness. He was every bit as aroused as I wanted to be…

“Sorry about that,” he said nonchalantly. “I can’t quite get.. The leverage for…”

He trailed off as I nuzzled at his thick bulge. I heard him chuckle as he continued to secure my restraint. This was heaven, surely. Too bad there was so much fabric in the way. He ground his hips in time with my mouthing, I could feel him getting closer…

As soon as it was getting good, George stepped down from the ladder.

“There we go!” He announced. “All set for the next stage.” He patted my shoulder.

“But… Wait,” I was still lost in the daze from getting to be so close to him. “What about…?”

“Easy there, tiger,” George cooed, adjusting himself. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later. For now, we need to get this finished. Maybe cool you down a little?” I didn’t notice the flash of evil in his eyes until he turned back to me with a pair of wooden clothespins.

“Nngh… Come on, not tho-OWWW!” I howled as the little clamps snapped onto my nipples. They really weren’t that strong, but in my horny state they were only making me more aroused.

I panted, breathing as deeply as I could. George continued to put panels over my body, concealing my clamped nipples, and what was still exposed of my arms.

“Just a few more things…” George reached down and slid a panel open in front of my crotch. My boner popped out instantly, much to his amusement. He took another clothespin and snapped it over my glans. I howled again, more out of frustration than pain. My rapidly deflating cock was then stuffed back in and the panel closed again.

“Does that help?” George smiled cockily, his arms folded across his chest. “It’ll keep you from blowing your load or pissing yourself. You’re welcome.”

My boner was returning, in spite of the clamp and tight space. And I was having trouble thinking. “I… Uh… Uhmmm.”

“Shhhh…” George stepped up and caressed my wooden body. “You’ll be alright. And you look stunning. It’s just like Daphne and Apollo… Except…” He leaned in, almost like he was going to kiss me. His breath fogged up my safety glasses…

“Later,” he pulled back with a devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have something else for you first.” He walked over to his lathe. I heard the hum of the motor, and the chattery whine of a tool turning wood. He worked out of my sight for a few minutes before the machine was powered down and George sauntered back over to me, brushing off a freshly turned piece. It was a thick, cylindrical bar with grooves at both ends.

He reached behind my head. I heard the hollow clinking of wooden parts being locked into place. There were now two bars, one of either side of my face, preventing me from turning my head side to side. George then held up the piece he’d just made. I could see that the grooves would fit into the notches on the side bars, but only if…

“Nuh uh, come on man, I’ll go crarghh-!”

George eased the bit between my teeth, placing it into the notches like a lincoln log and effectively immobilizing my head. The bar was thick enough to keep me quiet without giving me lockjaw. I pulled against my restraints in futility as my dick throbbed again in its confines.

“Awww… You don’t like it?” George mock-pouted. “But I made it just for you.” He tweaked my nose, and watched as rivulets of spit began to seep from the corners of my mouth. He looked at the clock.

“Well, you’ll just have to learn to like it then.” George gave my forehead a quick kiss, and pulled a particle mask over my bitgagged mouth and nose. He then removed my safety glasses, and put a leather blindfold over my eyes before replacing the glasses.

“UUghhh! Nuughh-gggh!!” I moaned. I could feel the wooden mask being placed over my head, sealing me into a world of wood and lacquer. It was quieter, and peaceful all of a sudden. I heard the wood creaking as the screws were fastened.

“Hope everything feels alright, buddy.” George called. “It’s going to be awhile before you get let out.”

“Hhrrgh uhh ack ggugghh?”

“Hmmm, not sure… I still have to French-polish the body section, which you know always takes forever.. Then has to dry overnight… Show starts at 9, and goes for… So I’d say at least sixteen hours, likely a few more. Thanks for volunteering by the way! I think we’ll have to do more art projects together after this!”

I could feel my drool creeping down my chin, slowly dripping down my neck towards my chest. The clamps on my nips and dickhead were already getting difficult to ignore. I was lost in a world of oak, varnish, and the distant sound of George’s off-tune humming as the slightly acrid smell of dissolved shellac and dust reached my nose. I was screwed, but there was no way I couldn’t love it.

The End

Spencer Reed male bondage

2 thoughts on “Screwed”

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