See the VIDEO at Men In Chains
Title: Who’s My Gimp
Tag Archives: gimp
Gimp Time
By Rubrpig
This slave is wearing Wesco boots, body harness, locked posture collar and nipple clamps. It is also locked in a Carrara Extreme chastity belt.
Dan was excited as he was heading to spend the weekend with a new rubber Top that he had become involved with online. The Top known online as Gimpmaker had ordered Dan to spend the weekend starting Friday night so that he could be tested to see if he was worthy of becoming a rubber slave. Dan was extremely excited as he knew that if he succeeded in pleasing then he would be accepted as a full-time rubber slave.
Dan finally arrived at the address he had been given and pulled into the lot behind an old warehouse. He got out, his combat boots crunching on the gravel. As ordered, he pulled off the t-shirt and then kicked off his boots and stripped off his jeans. Putting his boots back on, he was otherwise naked as ordered. Before leaving his apartment, he had shaved and used hair remover on his body from the neck down. His normally furry body was now smooth, and it felt strange to his touch.
It started with Mitts – Part 19-4
By Bondagegimp
We need to talk
After a while, Bob gets up, grabs one of the chains attached to the bed, attaches it to my collar, and goes into the tiled room. I hear the shower and lie on the bed, lost in my thoughts. The plug in my hole is pressing hard. I’ve certainly had larger plugs in me before, even a fist, but anything larger was only for a short time. Something this size for a longer period is a new challenge. I can feel my body trying to push the intruder out, but the crotch strap presses it relentlessly into my hole.
Every attempt to push the plug out only makes its presence more obvious and harder to bear. Then there’s the cock cage, the diaper on top, the suit made of strong nylon fabric, and finally the mesh of sturdy leather straps that constrict my lower abdomen into a thick, tight package.
Pipe bondage chair
It started with Mitts –Part 13
By bondagegimp
Trauma therapy
Wall. In front of me, all I can see is the wall. I’m standing on my tiptoes. The muzzle I’m wearing has this ring right in front of my mouth, and Bob has attached it to a hook on the wall so high that I have to stand on tiptoes and look diagonally upwards. Bob has left me here while he prepares something. I can’t see what, I can’t see him. I only see the wall. My head is tied to the wall with a thick lock. But I can hear him working.
Steel bars are banging together, a screwdriver is screwing, things are being pushed back and forth on the floor. I have no idea what he’s up to. I’m nervous, sweating. The sweat is collecting in the booties of the rubber suit. It’s the same one as yesterday on our walk. The one with the rubber sheath over the hole. Bob fucked it into me again with great pleasure. I’m also wearing my sneakers again. And the gag from yesterday, the mouth over it is taped up again with the foil plaster, on top of which is the rubber mask from the suit.
Bob wants to re-create yesterday. We were just lying in the evening sun. My shoulders ached from the tight restraints, the collar cutting into my neck. But I enjoyed the moment with Bob, who, lost in thought, played with my nipples while I snuggled into his muscles.
It started with Mitts –Part 11
By bondagegimp
Going for a walk
I wake up when Bob gets up and realize I barely slept. The sun is shining into the room. The night was hard. I could hardly sleep in the tight restraints, but that was probably also due to the heavy thoughts that were troubling me. Yesterday was really too much. I can’t do this. My mind is made up: As soon as I can make the decision, I will leave Bob.
My only concern is whether he’ll actually allow it. Sure, he’ll ostensibly give me the choice. Bob has never lied to me; he keeps his word. On the surface. Because in the end, he always gets what he wants. Will he manipulate me? He still has plenty of time to brainwash me. Or will he trick me somehow? In any case, he’ll want to make it look like I made the decision myself. I spent the whole night wondering how he’d go about it.
Bob comes back to bed with me, where I’m still wrapped in the leather straps. He lies down next to me and cuddles. I don’t respond, trying to keep my distance, not letting myself be seduced. Still, it feels good. Bob plays with me until my cock is hard again. “Yesterday wasn’t easy for you. I thought we’d take a little trip today. I wanted to show you some of the beautiful scenery. We’ll leave after breakfast!”
Bob always manages to surprise me. I’m happy to finally be able to get out again. He won’t be able to lead me on a leash, or in handcuffs. A little bit of freedom. But I remain suspicious—I still remember the “party” well.
It started with Mitts –Part 10
By bondagegimp
In the office
How many days have passed since the party? 4? 5? It’s not easy to keep track when you spend a lot of time in masks or cells that don’t let in daylight. I wonder if Bob is doing this on purpose? Does he want me to lose control, to lose track of the days?
Today I’m allowed to see something again, although not completely freely. I’m wearing a rubber mask that, instead of proper eye openings, has several small holes in front of my eyes, a bit as if someone had randomly punched about 10 holes in front of each eye. Daylight comes in, which is pleasant. And I can see something, which is also an improvement compared to some of the last few days. But it’s difficult to focus. Sometimes my eye looks through one hole, then the other. It’s usually easier to close one eye and look through one hole with just one eye. But that’s tiring, and only a small section, a small tunnel. Somehow oppressive. So I look with both eyes, without focusing.
