By Speedobound
My fetish can be summed in one word: Speedos. But then bondage isn’t far behind. I used to get a hard on simply by driving past sporting goods stores because that’s where you would buy Speedos, when I was growing up. I think an athletic man with a hot physique wearing a tight Speedo is the perfect combination of nature and… well, synthetics, since I like 100% nylon Speedos!
I had my very first orgasm the initial time I ever tried on a Speedo. Luckily it was a friend’s Speedo and I was able to clean up the gooey mess, surreptitiously. I had NO idea what just happened, but I knew it was HAWT. The idea of being tied up was in the back of my mind as well, but it wasn’t until I got my pervy little hands on my own Speedo that I could “practice in,” were the two fetishes able to meet. It’s fascinating what a bit of imagination and a little pretend can come up with when you are a horny teenager and have some rope and a Speedo.
I have long since graduated to more advanced levels of exploring kink. Many years ago I finally got brave enough to let a stranger tie me up, while wearing a Speedo of course. If you read my profile you will see that I will not be tied up without my Speedos, it would immediately kill my erotic drive. However, when I am wearing a Speedo, my tolerance for… well for a LOT of things is amplified. I have visited my share of leather clubs, dungeons, and even small apartments with some makeshift bondage equipment, or simply rope. I have gotten a lot more adventurous as the years have passed, although I have always played safe and have never been truly harmed.
I entered the playroom wearing nothing but a tight skimpy Speedo – and an old sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was small and hung above my waist, so the bulge in the front of my speedo was plainly visible below it. I did this because – in my mind – feeling covered above concentrates the sense of vulnerability I feel onto my Speedo below, and on my bare legs…. it makes me feel naked vulnerable and HORNY. I felt the sensation of near nakedness below my covered torso, and this sense of vulnerability was intense because I knew what was in store for me, especially after seeing a spreader bar with clips on either end, hanging from a chain from the ceiling in the center of the darkish room. I had entered the lair of a leather uniform wearing man I know to be a sadist, to whom I had freely admitted I wanted to experience the sense of complete and utter helplessness with, while indulging in my fetish of wearing a skimpy Speedo. I was walking into a trap of my own making.
Seth needed money. Well, more accurately, he just want some “walking around” cash so he could continue to socialize with the other college students who never seemed to care about the price of anything. That description fit maybe half the students at the elite New England college they attended. Seth belonged to the other half. His background was middle class. And he and his parents were pretty tapped out just keeping him in this obscenely expensive school. A little extra cash would help.
