By Speedobound
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.
He asked me “what’s with the sweatshirt?” and I told him I didn’t like my chest and back to be touched… to which he chuckled and said “That’s quite alright, I have plans for OTHER parts of your body. Move over here” (he pointed at the floor directly underneath the bar), and I complied.
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.
