Thirty Hours

By rts

Part 1

I am wearing my 20-hole steel toe Rangers with tight black thick leather pants tucked in. The leathers have a removable codpiece, and centered over my butt is a round opening directly placed to give access to my butthole. My upper body is clothed in a tight leather shirt over which I am zipped into a heavy black collarless motorcycle jacket. My hands are gloved in leather gauntlets. I am standing in a very warm underground concrete cell waiting in silence and dressed as I was told to be.

Over my head there is a chain hanging from a pulley. The end of this chain is attached to a hand crank mounted on one wall. The cell is about 12 X 12 feet, windowless with only a steel door for access. I am excited standing here uncertain of what’s to come. I have only met this leather wearing skin online, I wanting to experience an inescapable bondage weekend in full gear, and he wanting to put a booted guy in some uncomfortable restraints getting off on watching the struggle. After discussing the gear I would be wearing, agreeing to be under his total control for the weekend, and he to respect my limits I prepped myself by fasting 24 hrs before our meet and gave myself a good cleanout. Following his instructions I found his place late Saturday morning and let myself in the back door then down the stairs to this underground cell. We had only met online and talked on the phone about our interests and we hit it off.

Now here I was nervously waiting as the steel door swung open and in he walked, this hot mohawked stud his 20-hole Ranger boots thudding on the floor, well-worn tight Levis pulled up high in his crotch, cuffs rolled to the tops of his boots, braces hanging down behind his butt, a worn studded motorcycle jacket over his naked torso, a backpack hanging from one shoulder. We looked each other over, both of us the same size and build.

“You’ll do,” he laughed, dropping the backpack and walking up to me. We embraced, his leather jacket squeaking against mine with one hand grabbing my butt as I grabbed his. He smelled good, of leather and sweat, as we tightly held each other. “Let’s get to it,” he whispered as we kissed. Kneeling down he opened the backpack, and pulling out a set of rigid steel boot fetters he proceeded to close them around each of my boots, bolting them closed with a hex key. My legs were now firmly held 18 inches apart by the steel. I wasn’t going anywhere now. Taking something from the pack he now stood up holding a leather hood. Slowly he pulled this over my head, closing it tight with a zipper running from the back of my head down my neck. The leather was thick with eye, nose and mouth holes. I was now totally enclosed in leather. Stepping back he told me to try walking. All I could manage was a slow shuffle. He now bent down to pull a body harness from the pack. I couldn’t resist the sight of his tight, Levi-clad butt and rubbed my codpiece against it. He didn’t object and pressed back into me.

Straightening up, he began placing the heavy leather harness on me. The harness had a thick posture collar attached, and he quickly had this strapped and locked around my neck, now making it impossible for me to remove my hood. He belted the chest and wide waist straps behind my back, securing these with locks. Now he unsnapped and removed my codpiece, and taking the front harness strap he began working my cock and balls through the attached metal ring so that my “boys” were now fully displayed outside my leather pants. Before securing the harness’s crotch strap he stopped to place steel fetters on my wrists, bolting these closed over my leather gauntlets behind my back. Now not able to move my head down to see what he was doing, I felt his finger probing my butthole through the opening in my leathers with lube followed by the slow, unmistakable thrust of an unwelcome steel butt plug. He ignored my protests as he pulled the harness’s crotch strap tight, pressing the heavy plug firmly home and belted it to the back straps of the rig, securing it with a lock. I was now in his total control standing there fettered, hooded and harnessed. He gave me a shove and I almost fell over, struggling to remain on my footing.

“I want to see some serious struggling from you, nothing I enjoy more then watching a trussed up leather boy thrashing around. Move boy move,” he shouted as he took hold of my harness and pushed and pulled me around the cell. With my boots fettered 18 inches apart, my movement was clumsy and only his hand holding the harness while pushing and dragging me kept me from falling down. He made me stumble around the warm cell several times, and I was sweating in my heavy leathers by the time he stopped me under the hanging overhead chain and ordered me to remain still. My cock was fully erect as I was nervously excited in my restrained helplessness under his total control. He took two chains from the pack on the floor, locking one end of each to strong ‘D’ rings attached to the left and right shoulder straps of my body harness, then locking the other end of each to the overhead chain. He walked over to the crank attached to the cell wall and slowly began turning it, and as the overhead chain tightened it lifted me up onto my toes. My weight now mostly supported by the harness, the crotch strap digging into my butt forcing the butt plug tight into me, the chest and waist straps holding me uncomfortably tight. I grunted at the sudden pressure, and as I started to protest he placed his mouth tight against mine and we kissed. He rubbed tight against me, my erect cock pressed firmly against his bulging crotch I squirmed and bumped at it, getting close to cumming, when he suddenly backed away.

“Not just yet boy, I intend to keep you hot and horny for the rest of the weekend,” he said, turning and walking out of the cell slamming the steel door behind him leaving me hanging there trying to relieve the pressure on my crotch strap by remaining on my toes, my legs trembling in the effort. As soon as my legs gave out, I slipped off my toes, my boots no longer in contact with the floor, my full weight born by the harness. The straps tight on my chest and waist, the strap through my crotch driving the butt plug firmly into me while the cock ring pulled tight on my scrotum. This harness wasn’t designed for full suspension, breathing was difficult, with only my leathers to cushion the pressure of the straps I shouted for him futilely.

I was hanging there struggling to keep standing on my toes attempting the only possible small relief from the pressure of my harness. I was having a difficult time trying to hold a position on my toes any longer than a couple of minutes, and each time I lost it the harness painfully wrenched against me. I was sweating heavily at the effort, now concerned at how much of this I could endure and apprehensive as to what I had let myself in for. I no longer had an erection. I shouted my pleas for some relief to the empty cell, cursing him for leaving me like this, my legs aching, the harness straps a torment. As the hours slowly passed, I kept struggling to find a less uncomfortable position, but there was no relief. I was miserable. I wanted out. All I could do was curse myself for committing to this treatment, in despair knowing I had hours more to face of this bondage.

 

Part 2

 

After I was left hanging there for what I later learned was 8 hours, the door opened and he re-entered the cell. Ignoring my pleas, he walked slowly around my struggling body. He was holding a metal object. Stopping in front of me and taking hold of my cock and ball sac, he stretched them away from my groin as he carefully inserted them into this metal container, a seed pod chastity device, hinging it quickly closed and locking it. When he removed his hands and I felt the weight of it, I started to get aroused but quickly the restrictive, painful confinement of the device prevented my erection. He now laughed as he grabbed my body and began hugging and rubbing me all over, kissing me through the mouth hole in my hood. My cock now really hurting in attempted arousal as he held my butt cheeks firmly. All I could do was groan and moan in painful pleasure. He stepped back and gave me a shove, making me swing from the overhead chain, the harness digging in to my body. Cursing and pleading, I was begging him to let me down. He grabbed the chastity cage and yanked hard. I howled in pain, my eyes tearing.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m in control you fucking wimp.”  He gave me another hard shove, then walking over to the hand crank he began lowering me down. It was a relief having my boots flat on the floor finally. “I want you down on your knees boy.” He continued to turn the crank so that there was more than enough slack in the chain for me to comply. Now he walked to the far wall, sat down and leaned against it, spreading those hot booted legs and presenting his bulging 501s. “Lay down boy,” he grunted. “Now!” To keep from falling flat on my face with the fetters restricting movement, I awkwardly fell on my shoulder, then rolled face down. “Now crawl over here and stick your face in my crotch.”

I could only squirm back and forth, my leathers creaking and grinding on the concrete, chastity cage pressing into me, my cock painfully tight, butt plug exciting me with each movement, my neck stiffly confined in the posture collar. The crotch of his bleached Levis got getting closer to my hooded head, finally bumping into it. Through the small eyeholes of the hood, I saw his bulging crotch stretching tight his worn 501s. “Start licking it, boy,” he said while taking hold of my hood pressing the mouth hole against the bulge. I began working the tight denim feeling the confined cock and balls, licking and soaking it in my spit and his precum. I slowly worked at this as he held my head tighter and quietly moaned and started to move his crotch back and forth against my face. He wrapped his booted legs around my harnessed torso, squeezing tighter as he pulled my face tighter into his thrusting crotch. His moans got louder and more rhythmic as his hip thrusts became more vigorous the nearer to climax. Squeezing my face tight into his cum wet jeans, he shot again and again, then fell back against the wall, still keeping my hooded head tight against them now smelling of cum, sweat and old piss. After a while he released his legs from my body and, telling me to kneel back up, he used his hands to help me change positions. I now knelt between his outstretched legs, fully geared up in leather — my boots, tight pants, shirt, biker jacket and gauntlets, and a leather hood locked on by a posture collar and body harness that also holds in place the plug in my butt. My legs in steel fetters spread 18 inches apart, my wrists fettered behind my back, my cock and balls locked into a steel chastity pod, my harness chained to an overhead pulley. I cannot get free.

“You may sit back on your legs boy,” he said. Standing, he walked behind me, taking hold of my wrist fetters. He next unbolted and removed them. It was a relief for my aching shoulders as I stretched my arms and at last was able to rest them in front of me, my hands exploring the steel chastity cage. I knelt there expecting him to further release my restraints, but he just left me there as he walked toward the door. “That’s as free as you are going to get boy, enjoy it but leave your gauntlets on.” The cell door closed behind him. I moved into a sitting position and tried testing my harness but every tight strap was locked in place, no access to the butt plug or my cock for relief. No way to get the posture collar and hood off. I was ready to pull off my gloves but afraid that he might punish me for disobeying him.

After a long time he returned to the cell carrying water and a large protein drink in his hands, and under his arm a rolled up rubber sleeping mat. His steel toed boots stomping on the cement, the bulge in his tight Levis stained wet with spit and cum, braces hanging down behind his butt swaying as he walked to me, still shirtless under a worn leather jacket. “Roll over on your stomach,” he ordered, and when I complied he stomped down hard on my butt, then kicking it hard with his 20 holes. “That’s just in case you took those gloves off after I left.” I grunted a cry in protest. Kneeling down, he handed me the drinks. “Finish that up and we’ll get some sleep.”

 

Part 3

 

He unrolled the sleeping mat, as I eagerly drank up. Positioning me on my back on the mat he lay on top of me, our leathers squeaking and smelling of sweat. I eagerly wrapped my arms around him, holding tight to his buttocks as we kissed, thrashing around grinding our groins together, my imprisoned cock painfully confined in the cock cage, he thrusting his hips rhythmically and rapidly until grabbing my harness straps. He shot with a series of grunting roars. He remained on top of me for a while, breathing heavily with sweat covering his face and chest, kissing me. Sitting up, he slid forward placing his soaking crotch firmly over the mouth and nose holes of my hood. “Smell it boy, suck the juice, get a good taste.” I struggled to breathe as the taste and acrid smell of his crotch was ground into my face, my tongue lapping against the tight bulge of his wet Levis. As I struggled to breathe, he got up went over to the pack he had first brought with him, returning with something. Sitting down on my chest, he placed a leather muzzle over my hood’s mouth hole, strapping it behind and over my head, locking it in place over my mumbled protests. “Now my man smell will stay with you all night,” he laughed. “Now shut the fuck up and let’s get some sleep.” He lay down on top of me, and the two of us spent the next hours together, he managing to get more sleep than me as the weight of his body, the confining pressure of my tight harness, the hood and the fucking butt plug and cock cage made the night miserably uncomfortable. The cock cage really compounding my suffering as his hot sweaty leather smelling body was a turn on as I rubbed my hands on his tight butt. Each time I dozed off, I would awake confused and momentarily panicked, feeling my constricting bonds and hooded head sealed with a muzzle.

He awoke after a few hours. Standing up, he pulled me to my feet. I stretched my free arms and grabbed for my caged cock. I had to piss, so I just let it flow, dribbling out of the locked metal seed pod while he stood there pissing in his tight Levis, the wet stains quickly spreading across his crotch and down his leg. Now he picked up the discarded wrist fetters and when he tried putting them on me, I resisted, shuffling backwards in my leg fetters, punching him in his stomach. Now pissed off, he tackled me, forcing me down then started kicking me. As I tried to grab his boots, he landed a few painful shots in my crotch and butt.

“So you want to play you little fuck,” he said, and backing toward the hand crank on the far wall he began turning it, pulling the chains on my harness tighter and dragging me across the concrete floor under the overhead pulley. As he continued turning it, I was lifted up until my boots no longer were in contact with the floor, all my weight now held by my harness, the crotch strap digging into my butt, the cock ring painfully pulling my cock and balls. With my hands still free, I reached for a hold on the suspension chains to relieve the harness’s pressure. I was hanging there struggling as he punched me in the gut, my leathers and the harness straps cushioning the blow. “Lower your arms you little fuck,” he shouted. When I didn’t comply, he left the cell, returning with a leather belt. “Lower your arms, Now!” He swung the belt hard against my buttocks. I flinched as he continued again and again. My butt was on fire, my eyes filled with tears. I was now pleading and mumbling through the muzzle. I shakily lowered my arms, surrendering to him. He now placed the fetters on my wrists, bolting them closed in front of me, then taking up the belt he again whipped my buttocks five more times as I squirmed in the stinging pain. “That’s just to remind you who is in control here.” He walked around my hanging, struggling form, taking out his cock and saying, “That’s what I want to see, a trussed up leather boy struggling helpless and miserable.” Standing in front of me, he looked so fucking hot, this skinhead in his tight, crotch-hugging, piss-soaked Levis rolled up high on his 20-hole Ranger boots, leather jacket over his naked torso, grunting and pumping off, finally shooting on my boots and legs. My cock was aching in its confined arousal. I was so horny in my harnessed discomfort. Right now this man could do whatever he wanted with me, I was so turned on in the situation and I wanted to please him.

He now was walking around with his cock hanging out. Going over to the hand crank he began lowering me to the floor. As my boots touched, he told me to squat down as he continued lowering the chain. When I was in position, the harness chains still holding some of my weight he locked off the crank so I could not sit or kneel on the floor, but I could still stand up. He soon locked a chain between my fettered boots and wrists, so now I could only stand stooped over. “Enjoy the position, the more you struggle the better I like it and if you’re good I might even get you out of that chastity pod.” He now unlocked the straps holding the muzzle, removing it. I gratefully thanked him but then he was shoving a ball gag into my mouth, strapping it firmly in place, I could only groan my protest. He walked out of the cell, leaving me in a standing stoop position, this being the only way I could relieve the pressure of my harness.

More hours passed. I would stand crouched until my legs and back got too tired, then squat down, but if I tried to relax and sit back, the harness chains tightened and the straps dug into me. The ball gag was making spit drip from my mouth. My legs were trembling as my muscles ached. I slipped backward, losing my footing, the harness jerking cruelly as I struggled to regain my footing. Alone now, I really wanted out. I wanted this to end. Thinking that “it wasn’t really bondage until you wanted out.” I was hot, thirsty and tired, and my body ached all over. The butt plug was driving me crazy, I wanted my cock out of this locked seed pod, it hurt so much whenever I got aroused, and my butt was sore from the punishment beating.

 

Part 4

 

The cell door opened. He stomped in carrying some water and takeout burgers. Sitting down, looking at me, he began to eat, smiling as he watch me struggle. “Keep it up boy, the more you struggle the hotter it makes me. I’m enjoying watching you suffer, and that’s good for you. I’ve had you locked in that gear since 11 a.m. yesterday, that’s about 28 hours. I bet you want out now, and I am willing to free you in another 2 hours, but the only way that’s going to happen is if you swear to return here next weekend for some more play, and who knows you then might have the opportunity to get even with me. If you are not willing to accept these terms I’ll leave you just like this for full 48 hours, maybe adding more to your discomfort. What’s your answer? Do you agree to the terms?”

I quickly grunted out yes, yes as best I could through the ball gag, still struggling trying to keep standing, my legs aching.

“Good boy, you’ve earned a reward.” He now bends down and unlocks the chain joining my wrist fetters to my boot fetters so that I can stand upright. Next he unlocks the steel seed pod, freeing my balls and cock from their imprisonment, then suddenly shoving me backward off my feet. I fall hard, the chains jerking my harness tight as they stop my fall, the straps cruelly digging into my aching crotch, the waist belt and chest strap squeezing the air out of my lungs. He grabs my legs, holding me in suspension and ducking under my fettered wrists he takes my cock in his mouth and begins to work it. I am in pain from the straps digging into me, the butt plug rammed tight, my neck stiffly held by the posture collar, the ball gag pressing into my mouth. I am grunting in excitement and pleasure of my restrained body, helplessly surrendering to him. I shoot, my body jerking in the harness, his hands tightly gripping my legs. He keeps working as I try to squirm away form his persistent mouth, keeping me in such pleasurable pain. He licks my balls as I struggle.

Lowering my boots back to the floor, he unlocks the support chains from the ‘D’ rings of my harness, freeing me from the overhead chain. Now he removes my ball gag and tells me to kneel while pulling his cock out of his 501s. “Start working it boy.” I slowly move my hooded head closer and he shoves the tool into the mouth hole. I manage to get a restrained hand up under his crotch and, slowly working my fingers, lips and tongue, I bring him to the edge and pause wanting to prolong his pleasure, wanting to please this hot tuff skinhead. Finally I bring him off in a series of shouts and body spasms. We sit down together and he puts his arm over my shoulder and side-by-side we talk about these past hours and my commitment to return next weekend and submit to him.

Sitting there, our leather jackets squeaked together as I moved around trying for some comfort in my harness, hoping for its removal but not daring to mention it to him. Then he said, “I bet you are hoping to get that harness off,” and taking keys from a pocket in his jacket he began to remove its lock, starting with the posture collar. What relief I felt as this restrictive device that had tormented me constantly was loosened from my neck. Next the chest strap and waist strap were freed, and the unforgiving pressure they had caused for all these hours was relieved. Now the last lock holding the crotch strap tight was removed, this he slowly worked off my crotch gently pulled my balls and cock free of the harness ring. Finally now my damn butt plug could be accessed, and he slowly pulled it out, an amazing relief. Taking his time, he began removing my leather hood, my face and head sweaty from the prolonged confinement, feeling the air for the first time in hours.

He got up, walked over to his pack, returning with my cod piece which had been removed and placed it on my crotch, pushing all the snaps closed. My “boys” were again encased in the leather pouch. Now, unexpectedly, he kissed me while placing something around my neck. I heard the unmistakable click of a lock being set, then felt the heaviness of a chain now locked in place. The chain felt thicker than a dog’s choker and was almost snug on my neck.

“That’s just insurance that you will return next weekend as agreed. I’m keeping the key. Any objections?”

I mumbled “no” as he still had me locked in leg and wrist fetters I had no choice. He kissed me again, and taking hold of my arm he began removing my fetters and when they were free he removed the ones that had been holding my boots spread apart. We wrestled around for a while, enjoying the physical contact, laying on top of each other “69” style, burying our faces in each other’s rank crotches. Sitting up, he got a condom from his pocket, put it on then rolled me over face down. Using spit as a lube, he worked his cock through the butt hole in my leathers and slowly started to hump me. My buttocks still hurt from the whipping and my butt hole was aching from having the plug in it for so many hours. He didn’t need much time thankfully, cuming quickly. I was exhausted and now that the session was ending the pain discomfort and helplessness of these long hours was second to the pleasure of the experience.

I was excited by this man — the way he looked, the way he treated me. I enjoyed being with him and was nervously anticipating our next encounter. This had been a long 30 hours.

 

THE END

 

Metalbond would like to thank rts for this story.

 

bondage stories to beat off to

4 thoughts on “Thirty Hours”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.