Tim the Bondage Slave – Part 5

By Mister-X / Spartan

Tim was tied up in his back yard.  They had been playing cowboys and Indians.  As usual, Tim was the Indian, and he was captured and had his hands tied behind him, as well as his ankles tied.  But this time, he also had a noose pulled up tightly around his neck, and was standing on a piece of firewood set upright, sweating and nervous.  The cowboys were going to be ‘hanging this injun varmit who had been harassing the settlers’.

Then everyone got called in for dinner, and Tim was left standing there, balancing on that piece of wood, as the others went running into the house.  No one came out to get him.  Tim was starting to get panicky.  He couldn’t yell out because of that bandana gag filling his mouth.  He was starting to lose his balance, starting to tip over, when

He woke up.  Tim realized it was that dream again.  He hadn’t had it for several years, but figured that it came on because of seeing that guy in the noose last night.  He noticed that Mr. Johnson was awake, and soon Tim was removed from his cage.  Tim had gotten almost no sleep that night, and what little he’d gotten had been marred by that dream.  He had no idea what time it was, being in Mr. Johnson’s dungeon with no windows or clocks.  Mr. Johnson removed all the restraints from Tim and led him to the shower room to get cleaned up.  Tim was very relieved to finally be out of that tight straitjacket that he’d been in for almost a day.  No words were exchanged, but Tim knew he had to quickly get ready for work.  While showering, Tim was recalling what he had seen the previous evening.

All seven guys had been tortured in various ways, but it was the rubber guy who stuck in his mind.  After his time on the fucking machine, Mr. Johnson removed the rubber suit from the guy to reveal someone who was completely hairless and covered with hundreds of tiny scars.  Apparently he had been treated with some kind of depilatory cream which not only removed all his hair but kept it from growing back.  This was a strange enough sight, but it was those hundreds of little scars all over his body that Tim couldn’t forget.  And he was soon to see where they came from.

Mr. Johnson brought over to Tim’s cage a well-worn leather sleep sack and opened it up for Tim to look at.  It was lined with hundreds of sharp tiny nails, only sticking up a little way, only as far as a tack.  Mr. Johnson touched his finger on the tip of one, and showed Tim the blood oozing out of the puncture.  After making sure that Tim could see the full extent of this sack, he took it over to lay on the floor next to the rubber guy, who was visibly shaking.  Then he had the rubber guy get into it, putting his arms in the internal sleeves, which were unzipped and open and had dozens of those tiny nails sticking up.  He zipped up the arm sleeves, and zipped up the sleep sack.  It was quite tight, and the rubber guy was starting to make sounds into his gag as the nails punctured his skin.

Mr. Johnson pulled the external string through rings which Mr. Johnson proceeded to pull as tight as he could, putting muscle into it.  He tightened the leather straps around the sleep sack, putting muscle into each one, tightening them as much as was possible, all the way up to the neck.  The rubber guy was in intense pain.  Mr. Johnson then brought over a leather hood to Tim’s cage, opened up to the inside, to again show dozens of the same kinds of sharp tiny nails at strategic points, though not over the eyes, but also protruding from the large gag that was attached.  He took that over to the rubber guy and strapped that on after the rubber guy had opened his mouth wide for the gag to go in, pulling the strings tight, and pulling the strap extra tight before buckling it.  There was also an additional strap which went from under the chin to over the top of the head to make sure the mouth was closed tight on the gag.  By now, the rubber guy was screaming into his gag, though he could not open his mouth even a little due to the additional strap.

But Mr. Johnson still wasn’t done.  He attached a winch to the foot end of the sleep sack and hoisted it up into the air until the rubber guy was completely suspended upside down.  He unzipped the crotch zipper and pulled out the rubber guy’s cock, which was in chastity.  He removed the chastity, and the guy’s cock immediately leapt out hard.  Mr. Johnson picked up two paddles which he brought over to Tim’s cage to show him.  One also had dozens of sharp tiny spikes sticking out the end, while the other was a normal paddle.  Mr. Johnson went over to the rubber guy and started hitting him with the normal paddle, at first on the butt and legs, but then all over the guy’s body, until he finally hit on the guy’s cock with the spiked paddle.  The rubber guy was constantly screaming, with blood starting to come down his cock, the only part of him that Tim could see from the outside.  Tim figured he was bleeding from hundreds of small wounds on the inside.

Finally Mr. Johnson stopped paddling the rubber guy, and came over to Tim’s cage.  He told Tim that this was only used for punishment, that as long as Tim did everything he was told to do without complaint, and got his work done properly, then he wouldn’t be spending any time in that sleep sack.  And also, he wouldn’t have the hood put on, since that would produce scars that would be visible at work.  He also said that the nails were well-positioned to avoid critical areas.

As Mr. Johnson was leaving, Tim wondered if he was going to be put into a no-win situation, where he wouldn’t be able to get his work done because of all the severe bondage he was going to be put through, so that it would be inevitable that he would be punished in this way.  In one way, Tim wondered what it would be like to go through what he’d just seen the rubber guy go through, but in another way, he was dreading what it would be like.

In just remembering it, Tim almost came again while he was showering.  When he realized that, he wondered whether he would secretly like being punished in this way.  But he had to put thoughts of this aside and hurry to get ready for work.

When Tim emerged from the shower, Mr. Johnson was waiting with Tim’s chastity, butt plug and tit clamps.  It took some ice to get Tim’s cock deflated enough to put it in chastity.  With the gear on, Tim went into his room to get into his suit and tie.  When he came out, the rubber guy, fully dressed again in his rubber cat suit, had breakfast ready.  There were no signs of where the nails in the suit had entered him because the only part of him that wasn’t covered by rubber was his eyes, which had a dazed look.

The rubber guy strapped Tim into the chair, putting muscle into applying the straps as he’d been ordered to do by Mr. Johnson.  Having the leather straitjacket on had made the straps seem easy to deal with yesterday, but having only a suit and tie on, they really had a restraining effect.  In particular, the extra tight strap around the neck, attached to that chair that was built for a taller person, started cutting off Tim’s breathing.  But he dared not utter a word of complaint.

Breakfast went as dinner had the night before, though the drink was replaced with orange juice.  Tim much preferred the orange juice.  There was one other boy there for breakfast.  He was dressed in a tight heavy leather double breasted chauffeur’s coat with a stand up collar reaching up to his chin, forcing his head up high, along with tight leather pants, knee-high boots, and leather gloves.  That boy’s face was a bright red.  He was the one who had the noose, the metal collar, and the weighted chain around his neck the night before, and Tim wondered if his red face was a result of that.

When breakfast was finished and Tim was released from his chair, Mr. Johnson barked out, “Atten-shun!”, and when Tim attempted to snap into ramrod straight attention, Mr. Johnson started inspecting him.  He yanked down on the inside part of the hanging tie and pushed the top end to make the tie dig further into Tim’s neck, smoothing out the collar so that it wouldn’t show, stepped back and shook his head.

Mr. Johnson barked out, “At-ease.”  Tim relaxed.  Mr. Johnson told Tim to keep his neck muscles relaxed.  He undid Tim’s collar and yanked a tape measure tight around the base of Tim’s neck.  Then he did the same over Tim’s Adam’s apple.  Last he did the same over Tim’s neck above his Adam’s apple.  Mr. Johnson then re-buttoned Tim’s collar and yanked his tie tight, smoothing out the collar so that it wouldn’t show.  The tie was tied the tightest Tim had ever experienced.  He told Tim to suck in his stomach as far as he could.  Mr. Johnson put the tape measure around Tim’s stomach and yanked it tight.  Then he measured Tim’s hips and his chest.  Mr. Johnson finished by measuring the lengths of Tim’s shirt sleeves and pants legs.  Finally Mr. Johnson told the rubber guy to secure Tim.

The rubber guy first put cuffs on Tim’s wrists behind his back, ratcheting them tightly closed, put on a leather hood which had no eye holes, pulling the strings and straps extra tight, and strapped the wedge gag back on as tight as Tim had had it done the previous day.  This done, Mr. Johnson started barking out marching orders for Tim to go to Mr. Johnson’s car.  The other boy at breakfast was already in the driver’s seat, and got out to help Mr. Johnson put Tim into the trunk.  Tim could hear his creaking leather.  After Tim was in, Mr. Johnson put Tim’s heavy ankle cuffs on, wrapping the connecting chain around his ankles as they had been when in the cage the previous night.  After the trunk was closed, the driver and Mr. Johnson got in and they drove off.

Once again, Tim was bound and gagged in a car, this time dressed in his suit and tie going to work.  It was to become his normal routine.  When the car parked finally at work and the trunk was opened, Tim’s ankle cuffs were removed so he could get out, and Mr. Johnson had Tim remain standing where he was.  He heard the chauffeur get back into the driver’s seat.  Then Tim heard the unmistakable sound of cuffs being ratcheted on twice, but not on Tim, before the car door was closed.  When Mr. Johnson returned, he marched Tim into the building.

When they got to Mr. Johnson’s office, Mr. Johnson put his briefcase down, opened another door, and barked commands for Tim to march into it.  He ordered Tim to drop down onto his knees, pulled out Tim’s ankle cuffs, which he’d brought with him, locked one on, then looped the heavy connecting chain around both ankles once, up over the handcuffs and back down, and around both ankles again before locking it onto the other ankle.  Tim was still hooded and gagged, not able to see.  When this was done, Tim’s ankles were in the air and he was supported only by his knees and Mr. Johnson.  Mr. Johnson ordered Tim to stay as he was at attention, pushed Tim a little forward, and quickly closed and locked the door as Tim rocked back, so that Tim was now on his knees with his cuffed wrists and ankles resting against the door.

Tim did not know what time it was, whether the office was open, whether any of his co-workers had seen them, or how he was supposed to get his work done when he was like this.  After a while, Tim’s muscles started hurting.  He tried staying ramrod straight, but it was difficult.  He worried that if he ever relaxed, that would be the time Mr. Johnson would open the door, see him, and he would be punished.  After thinking about what he saw last night, Tim decided he didn’t want to be punished in that sack.

Finally Mr. Johnson unlocked and opened the door, supported Tim when he started to fall out, removed the heavy ankle chain, and ordered Tim to stand upright.  Tim had difficulty doing this, as his legs and feet were not accustomed to standing again, but he managed it.  Then Mr. Johnson barked orders for Tim to turn around and march out a few feet and stop.  Mr. Johnson removed the gag, hood and cuffs from Tim and told him to go out to his desk and start work.  That started Tim’s first work day while living at Mr. Johnson’s home.

Before leaving Mr. Johnson’s office, Tim said, “Permission to speak, sir.”

“Permission granted.”

“Sir, I still need to check out of my apartment with the apartment manager.  I can take care of that at lunch time, or after work, but I don’t want to interfere with your plans.”

Mr. Johnson thought a minute and said, “Take care of it at lunch time.  And don’t loosen that tie.  I need to get you some new tighter clothes.  I’ll do that after we leave work.”

Tim turned and went to his desk.  To his relief, no one else was there in the office, as it was about 15 minutes before starting time.  Tim went to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror.  No part of the gear he had on showed.  He also thought that the clothes he had on were already at least snug, and wondered what even tighter clothes would look like.  He went back to his desk and began working.  It was not easy to concentrate on his work, what with all that had happened and with getting little sleep the previous night, not to mention the extra gear he had on under his clothes.  But the thought of being punished if he didn’t get his work done forced him to concentrate.  At lunch time he was able to get the apartment taken care of, since the apartment was within easy walking distance.  He was even able to get a bite to eat as well.

When quitting time came, Tim figured he should stay at his desk until the office emptied out except for Mr. Johnson, who always stayed late.  When everyone else had left, Tim went to Mr. Johnson’s office and knocked.  When he was told to enter, he told Mr. Johnson that everyone else had gone.  Mr. Johnson said, “I’ve still got work yet.  Atten-shun!”  Soon Tim was back in the adjacent room bound as he had been in the morning.

After that room’s door was finally opened, Mr. Johnson removed the ankle cuffs and started barking orders at Tim, leading him out of the office and down to the waiting car.  After Mr. Johnson undid the chauffeur’s cuffs, Tim was put into the trunk, the ankle cuffs put on again.  The car was driven to another area and parked, with Mr. Johnson getting out.  After a while he returned with some packages, and they drove back to his home.

When they got to Mr. Johnson’s home, the two assisted Tim out of the trunk, and Mr. Johnson barked orders to march Tim to his room, where the rubber guy strapped Tim to his chair, as tightly as he had been at breakfast.  Mr. Johnson inspected the straps and nodded assent to the rubber guy.  After those two had left, one of the other boys entered his room and unwrapped the packages, let out a whistle when he looked at them, and said to Tim, “These shirts are something else.  They’re just like Mr. Johnson’s.  I hope you enjoy wearing them.  They are made of thick, hard plastic, flexible only at the elbows, arm pits and sides, colored to look like white shirts, have very high stiff collars, sharpened at the top and at the ends of the cuffs, are fitted to tightly hug your body, pushing into it everywhere.  While wearing them you’ll only be able to bend down at the hips.  And the suits are of heavier material and tighter than your current one.  Those pants will really show off your ass.  I hope you’ll be able to sit down while wearing them without them ripping.  More extra tight bondage, just the way you like it.”

Tim thought about this while he was tightly strapped to his chair.  It sounded like his bondage at work was being stepped up a notch.  It also sounded like each of the other boys had a responsibility in the household, and he wondered whether he would be assigned one outside of his work.  Soon everyone was being taken in to dinner.  Other than being strapped extra tight as he had been at breakfast and in his room, dinner went just as it had the previous night.  The chauffeur was no longer in his leather uniform, and his face was a normal color.   After dinner was finished and the dishes removed, Mr. Johnson left and returned with a full length rubber cat suit like the rubber guy was wearing.  Tim noticed the rubber guy’s eyes get wide and apprehensive when he saw it.

Mr. Johnson said, “Tim, you can’t wear your work suit for dungeon play, so I thought this would be more suitable.  I got it a few years ago, but it was too small for any of the boys to wear, but you should be small enough to be able to get into it.  Take it to your room and put it on.  The other boys will be getting into their cat suits as well for the dungeon play.”

Tim noticed the rubber guy relax, having a twinkle in his eye as he was releasing him, and wondered what was up with that suit.  When Tim got it to his room and took a look at it, he realized why.  The internal gag in the hood was enormous.  Tim tried putting it into his mouth before putting the suit on, and found that if he opened his mouth as wide as he could, he was just barely able to get it to fit, though it went back into his mouth almost to his epiglottis.  He figured this was going to make for an interesting fit and evening.  The suit itself was very tight to get into.  Even after being lubed, it took a lot of pulling and stretching of the rubber before Tim was finally in.  It also had extra thickness around the neck which was quite tight, not expanding like most suits did at the neck.  He didn’t have to smooth much out, as it was already pretty form fitting when he zipped it closed.  What with the tight neck and massive gag, he was starting to have trouble breathing through the tiny pinholes in the attached hood.  It was causing his cock to try to get hard in its chastity.

When Tim finally got back to the dining room, Mr. Johnson looked pleased, saying that it was an excellent fit, which was good since he had another five just like it, except that the others did not have eye holes.  He said these would be the ones he would have Tim start wearing every night at the house, starting with tomorrow.  He soon lined everyone up, suitably geared, and marched them into the dungeon as the previous night, with the exception that Tim could not see with a blindfold having been put on over the rubber suit.  Tonight he was going to have his first experience at the hands of Mr. Johnson.  He was curious to see what awaited him.

 

To be continued …

 

10 thoughts on “Tim the Bondage Slave – Part 5”

  1. I love this very very very much………detailed descriptions of the plastic shirt and the suit that Tim has to wear……bloody incredible! You have great imagination.

  2. I also love this story. It is actually one of the best I ever read. Nice storyline, nice details, and it keeps me being curious for what will happen next. You have much imagination and talent.
    Thanks a lot and please go on with it!

    1. Thanks. I appreciate the feedback. I hadn’t gotten any feedback with the last two parts, so I was wondering if it wasn’t appreciated by anyone. Good to hear that at least two people like the way it’s going.

      1. Oh, I’m sure that there are much more people who enjoy your writing. People are just too lazy to comment. :-)

  3. absolutely fantastic. one of the best out there. checking for updates to this story like 3x a day. i hope some really cruel stuff happens to these poor guys.

  4. wow, never heard of a Master like Mr Johnson. Even though this is a story , he is the MOST Sadistic Master it has ever heard of.

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