Side Effects – Chapter 3

By GratDelay

male BDSM storiesI had to get up. I had to move!

Adin had said the paralysis was wearing off, and I definitely had control of my voice again. If I didn’t get moving right away, Adin would keep me stuck here all night.

Were my toes wriggling? Could I twitch my fingers? Nothing. This was weird stuff.

Adin came back into the room with a pile of my gear.

“Forget it Adin!” I said firmly with false bravado, “not gonna happen.”

“Stand up and tell me that to my face!” he said scornfully.

What had come over Adin? He knew about all my toys, but had never shown any interest in them. For that matter, he’d never shown any interest in my dick before either. I was feeling very confused. But I had more pressing concerns, because no matter how confused I was, Adin was standing over me with some of my favorites.

“No Adin, I’m serious! An hour’s enough already.” The thought of Adin putting me into bondage, using my own toys, was like another dream come true, but I really didn’t know if I could handle it, given the state I was in, and what had already happened in just the last 40 minutes or so. At the same time, my hypothalamus texted a command down to my groin: Make it so.

He dumped the pile on the coffee table, then started spreading it out and arranging it. It was a lot of my bigger toys, and I wondered if he’d be able to figure out how to use them. It was a pet peeve of mine, but when someone was strapping me into something, I wanted a sense that they knew what they were doing.

I actually laughed when he made a choice and held it up. “That’s not going to work.”

It was my favorite, and most expensive, steel chastity belt. The thought of being in it when I was this horny sent a thrill through me, but my steel-hard pole was not going to cooperate, apparently not for several hours. Adin, optimistic in his ignorance, placed it at my feet and then started working it up my useless legs, like he was putting shorts on me. With only a little hair-pulling, it got it all the way up to my butt. He stared at me like he was considering an engineering problem; then headed to the kitchen. I heard him opening the freezer and scooping out ice cubes. Crap, how did he know about that trick?

He came back out with the ice in a plastic bag.

“Haha, no!” I said pleadingly, “Look, I don’t even think it will work, not with this stuff in me.”

He ignored me and dropped the bag on my crotch from about a foot up. That fucking hurt! And it was fucking cold. “Shit!” I exclaimed, “Take it off!” Once again, I was trying to get something, anything to move.

Dammit, it took a few minutes, but the ice cubes were working. I got down to some serious begging, “Please, Adin, don’t do this! I couldn’t fucking take it, not while I’m like this.”

“You know what I think? I think you really want me to do it.”

“Normally, yeah, but I’m losing it as it is tonight. Come on!”

“Also, it’s for your own good. When I tried the spray, and I started moving again, I practically rubbed myself raw. I was sore for a couple of days after. Could have used something like this.”

This just made me worried about what I was in for. This drug was fucked up.

Anyway, Adin went to work, ignoring my pleas. He rocked my hips from side to side to slide the belt up past them to my waist. This left my head turned to one side, so then I couldn’t really see what he was doing anymore, but I felt him shift the belt around until he thought it was centered and resting on my hips where it belongs. There was a pause, then he plopped the bag of ice down again. “Hey, dammit!” I shouted.

A minute later he slid the metal tube onto my dick, which fortunately was still slick from lube and pre-cum. Adin didn’t know to lubricate the cock tube. Then there was a bunch of fumbling as he tried to figure out how the tube connected to the crotch band. I was starting to get hard again, but he was cunning enough to keep a hold on the tube with me in a downward position. Eventually he slotted the tube into the crotch band and moved on the figuring out how the crotch band attached to the waist belt. My cock was already feeling cramped in the tube. There was a click, and it was done.

I was never not horny while tweaked by his crazy drug, but this development started ramping me up again. I NEEDED to get off. This time I could groan aloud, and I did. But Adin wasn’t done. He picked up my neoprene sleepsack.

“No, FUCK no!” I said, “Look, I’m going to have to pee soon.” But he was on a roll. He laid it out next to me and tried to slide it under me. He lifted my legs and tucked my feet into the bottom of it, the managed to man-handle me so that I was lying in it, but then he discovered he couldn’t get my arms into the sleeves from there. “So much for that idea,” he said cheerfully, yanking it out from under me and flipping me over halfway in the process. Now my face was pressed up against the back of the couch. “Dammit, Adin!” I said.

Then he straightened me out again and grabbed my leather straitjacket. Ohhh yeah, said my groin. He laid it out on my chest, then grabbed one arm at a time and slid the sleeves over them. He wrapped the collar most of the way around my neck and tucked the jacket under me on each side. Then he stuffed the crotch straps through my crotch, taking a few seconds to grab the front of the chastity belt and wiggle it, sending a slight but overpoweringly erotic sensation in to my locked-up junk. Then he went to the end of the couch near my head, and hefted me up as he slid onto the couch under me. With a little shoving, he tried to sit me up. “OWWW!” I said, as my head flopped back. “Sorry!” he said, getting out from under me again.

He stood up and considered his options. Then he bent down and crossed my arms in front of me, snaking the straps through the side loops. I realized I was completely unable to get out of a straitjacket that wasn’t even buckled. In my mind, I was trying to escape. Did I feel my arm twitch?

Adin rolled me to one side again, exposing my back. He made sure the pillow was supporting my head. Then it was no problem for him to start buckling the buckles.

I definitely felt my arms moving. It wasn’t like anesthetic, or when your arm goes to sleep: it wasn’t weak and slowly getting stronger. Instead, it was like only every 100th signal was making it from my brain to my limbs. My shoulders flexed, then my left leg bent. I don’t know of Adin noticed, because he didn’t hurry with what he was doing. He had done the collar and was working down the three back straps. I started to think if I tried real hard I might be able to uncurl my arms and keep him from buckling them to each other. He could have done the arms next, but he did the crotch strap.

It was like a fluorescent tube that flickers on a few times before staying on. All of the sudden everything worked again, and I had forgotten Adin’s advice and was trying my damnedest to move. My head tucked forward violently, and my legs curled up, kicking me away from the seat back. I twisted, hard, and my arms were straining to uncurl from around my torso. I banged Adin in the forehead with my elbow, and he fell back onto the coffee table.

This was not a planned maneuver on my part. I was actually startled when something happened, but I got it together soon enough and sat up, pulling the sleeves out of the side loops. I wanted to stand up and start undoing buckles, but Adin had recovered from the pain and shock and tried to tackle me. We ended up wrestling on the couch.

Like absolutely everything else that night, wrestling with Adin was incredibly erotic. I was dripping precum out of the chastity belt, which felt like a vice on my poor cock. I tried to push him off, and keep him from grabbing my hands, but I was at a disadvantage. The straitjacket itself gave him a lot of handles to grab onto and kept me from making good use of my fingers. Eventually he grabbed a hold of one of the side straps and pulled me away from the couch. We ended up rolling on the floor, where he pinned me down. He was not trained in putting unwilling subjects into straitjackets, so it took him several minutes to maneuver the straps back into the side loops and pull them together until he could buckle the last buckle.

I was well and truly fucked.

Now I was lying face down on my floor, panting and soaked in sweat from the exertion and the thick layer of leather covering my upper body. My cock was raging in it steel prison which was grinding against the carpet, and my best friend-turned-surprise-dom-master was sitting on my butt. I was suddenly very happy. Adin could see me smiling and he lowered himself so he could get his mouth close to my ear. “You’re welcome,” he said.

Adin got off me, and I curled up into a ball with my feet under me, then stood up. This was not my first straitjacket rodeo. I shrugged and shifted it around. It seemed to be put on and buckled up correctly. I wouldn’t have minded if it weren’t even tighter, but there was certainly no chance that I would be getting myself out of it. Adin had done a pretty good job. I looked down, over my crossed arms, and could see the blue-lined steel strap running down my crotch, hiding my dick and pushing my balls out to the sides. That sight always turned me on. And this time my best friend had the keys.


Well, he had access to the keys, anyway. I didn’t know if he even knew where they were kept amongst my gear. I toyed with telling him where they were, but my natural caution, as always, stilled my tongue.

Adin was sprawled on the couch (the sweaty sweaty couch), enjoying the show. I flexed and strained against my restraints, just to please him. He looked as happy as I felt. I stopped and stared at him, drinking in the fact that he was sitting there, buck naked. I had always thought him beautiful, but I’d never gotten more than furtive glances at him naked, back in the locker room after gym glass.

He tilted his head quizzically, then got a stern look and said, “What are you doing, fag!” I burst out laughing. He stood up and stalked over to me. “You looking at me, you queer? You think you can get away with that, you faggot?” He was acting out my fears, but I said, sincerely, “you’re beautiful.”

His smile returned, like high beams in my face. “I thought you’d never notice, after all I do to get purdy for you.”

I think the drug was not as strong, because while I was still hornier than I had ever been before tonight, at this point I could think straight and carry on a conversation. I asked, “Adin, why are you doing this? I mean, I love it, and I’d let you do it… well, some of it… to me anytime. But the fact is that I’ve always wished you would play with me even if it was just play, but you’ve never been interested in all of this stuff.”

Adin put his hands on my leather-covered shoulders and shook me back and forth. “Liam, I already told you. I want to snap you out of whatever head trip you’re always on. When I realized what this peptide does, I thought I could use it to break through your shell.”

“But we’re already best friends,” I said, “I think I’ve always been honest with you about the fact that I like guys, and lord knows I’ve shown off pretty much every single toy when I bought it.”

“Yeah, it’s not about that. It’s about you and me. We ARE best friends, but you are still never yourself around me. Like I said earlier, it’s like you don’t trust our friendship to survive you being honest with me.”

My view got swimmy with tears, and I couldn’t wipe them away. “Adin, I’m in love with you. I always have been. But I know you’re not gay… though tonight is very confusing… so I couldn’t lay that on you. I know you don’t love me the same way, and I don’t ever want to get in the way of your relationship with whatever girl you fall in love with. I just don’t want that to mess this… this… ” and then I was sobbing. There’d I’d gone and done it. Friendship over.

Adin pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around my head. After a while, I calmed down, and he held me at arm’s length.

“One: don’t worry about our friendship. The friendship is safe. Two: I am strong enough to hold you off if you ever try to pull any cockblocking shit on me. Notice whose cock is locked up right now, and who stuffed who into a straitjacket.”

I chuckled a bit, but I was still choked up from what he was telling me. I felt a pang of regret, from all the time I’d been needlessly uptight around him. But there was still the future. I whispered, “I’ll try, but old habits die hard.”

“I know, and it’s partly your habits that I worry about. You don’t just do it to me, you know. You try to hide your feelings from anyone you might want to get close to. You won’t meet anyone else if you keep yourself safe by pining after someone who loves you but can’t give you what you want.”

I pulled back with a grin and said, “Wait, are you dumping me?”

He looked sad for a moment, but then that smile lit up his face again. He pivoted away from me and stuck his beautiful ass out at me, “You ain’t ever getting any of this!

With a growl, I closed the distance again to thrust my metal-clad crotch against his crack. He rewarded me with a little grinding action. Fuck, I was getting crazy horny again. I pulled away and doubled up, trying uselessly to relieve some pressure on my dick. It was actually pulsing in its prison, but of course that was all it did. I found I was panting again.

Adin put his hand on my shoulder. “Good thing I got you locked up, or you might have raped my ass.”

Did he have any idea how true that was? I was so fucking horny again, and he was so fucking hot.

To be continued …


3 thoughts on “Side Effects – Chapter 3”

  1. This is a surprisingly sweet story given the subject matter. :) I’m enjoying it, though I don’t think anything will ever top the competitive jocks from “Lucky Cup” (which I still jerk off to regularly)..

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