By Mister-X / Spartan

Tim had noticed the previous evening that Mr. Johnson would take one guy at a time, start him off with his hands strung up over his head, and start beating him before putting him into bondage.  While this was happening, the other guys were required to stay at ramrod straight attention.  After their beatings, unlike that first evening, Mr. Johnson would remove the gag from the other guys, and they would tell Mr. Johnson what bondage they wanted to be placed in.  He would oblige them after re-inserting their gags.

Tim obeyed this clear requirement to stand at attention as best he could, and he had a long wait, since he was the last to be taken.  When it was Tim’s turn, as he had done with the others the previous night, Mr. Johnson first un-cuffed Tim’s hands from behind his back and re-cuffed them in front with a chain attached to the cuffs which he winched up until Tim’s hands were high above him and Tim was on the front halves of his feet.  At first, Mr. Johnson just stepped back and took a careful inspection of Tim as he was like this.  Then Mr. Johnson brought out a paddle and started hitting Tim on his butt, lightly at first, but progressively harder until Tim’s butt was hurting.

After the same 20 whacks he’d given the others, Mr. Johnson put the paddle down, massaged Tim’s butt, and then smacked it with a cane.  This got Tim’s immediate attention, as that hurt more than the 20 whacks did combined.  Tim made a muffled groan into his gag.  Mr. Johnson just hit him again with the cane.  And again.  And again.  By then Tim was starting to cry from the stinging pain, making muffled sounds into his gag.  Mr. Johnson chuckled a little, and winched Tim’s hands down.

Mr. Johnson said “until I have tried you in all my devices, the choice of which one you will be placed in will be mine.  After that time, except for the periodic hated ones I will place you in, you will be able to choose which ones you want.”

When Tim’s hands were down, Mr. Johnson took the cuffs off them from in front, put them on his hands in back again, attached the chain to them, and winched them back up again as far as Tim could stand it while keeping his feet on the floor, strappado style.  As Tim’s wrists had gotten up to his shoulders and kept going higher, he had to start bending over.  Mr. Johnson roped Tim’s ankles and knees together, and, after massaging Tim’s butt, went off to attend to the others, leaving Tim bent over at the waist.  After a while, Tim’s shoulders started to ache, then started to burn, then started to feel like they would come off.  Tim had to concentrate as this was happening.  Finally he started making sounds into his gag.  Others had been doing this, so he figured it was acceptable behavior.

Finally Mr. Johnson came over, put his hands on Tim’s shoulders which caused him to wince noticeably, and asked innocently, “Are these starting to hurt?”

Tim just grunted into his gag in response.

Mr. Johnson said, “You haven’t been in this for long enough yet.  I’ll be back later.”  With that he massaged Tim’s sore butt, lightly ran his fingers over Tim’s clamped tits, which caused his cock to try to get erect in its chastity, and walked away.  Tim was thinking to himself, “you wanted to be in extreme bondage.  Now that you are, do you like it?”  Again, his cock tried to get erect, and answered his question.

After another while, Mr. Johnson returned, put his hands on Tim’s shoulders again, causing Tim to wince, and asked, “Are you ready to be let down now?”

Tim grunted into his gag, and Mr. Johnson said, “I couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no.”

So Tim nodded his head vigorously up and down as he grunted into his gag.  Mr. Johnson chuckled and let Tim down.  He led him over to another part of the room and secured his ankles, one to each side of a wooden contraption of some kind.  Then he pushed Tim’s neck back to rest on an indentation in a piece of wood.  He removed the cuffs from Tim’s wrists and pulled his arms forward and back to lay his wrists on other indentations in the same piece of wood, his right wrist a foot or so to the right of his head and the left wrist a foot or so to the left of his head.  Then he placed another piece of wood on top of this with indentations for both the neck and wrists.  It was a perfect fit to the other piece of wood, tight on wrists, neck, and no space between otherwise.  He padlocked the two pieces of wood together.  He told Tim that he was now locked into his stand-up stocks, ones that had been purchased, but were too small for the others to fit in.  Mr. Johnson walked away to tend to the others.

Tim found this position to be a lot easier to deal with.  He didn’t mind the time in this device, as this was one that he thought he would enjoy being in.  When Mr. Johnson returned, he unzipped the crotch part of Tim’s rubber suit and removed his chastitied cock.  He took off the chastity, and started stroking it.  It only took a few seconds before Tim was hard and erect.  Mr. Johnson then started hitting Tim’s cock with a paddle.  That caught Tim’s attention quickly.  Tim’s cock started leaking pre-cum.  Mr. Johnson hit it again.  And again.  And again.  That hurt a lot, but there was nothing Tim could do but take it.  Mr. Johnson then lightly ran his fingers over Tim’s clamped tits again.  Tim gasped and started to get into heat, his cock getting rock hard and leaking pre-cum.  Whack went the paddle on it again.  And again.  And again.  This went on for a while, arousing Tim and then whacking his cock when it got hard.  It seemed to be a game that Mr. Johnson enjoyed playing.  It wasn’t very enjoyable to Tim, though.

Finally it was time to call it a night and get everyone into their cages.  Tim’s cock was again put in chastity.  Not being able to see, Tim was just slid into the cage as before, with the exception that his wrists were pulled out the back of the cage and cuffed together outside.  After the long day, Tim was ready for some sleep, even in this extremely stressful position.  He was still in the rubber cat suit with the enormous gag.  To his surprise, he quickly dropped off to sleep and didn’t awaken until he was gotten up the next morning, no dream marring his sleep.

Mr. Johnson got up in the morning and let the rubber guy out.  The rubber guy let the others out, and Mr. Johnson led the seven guys in a series of exercises.  The others were then put back into their cages, while Mr. Johnson, Tim and the chauffeur got ready for work, and the rubber guy started getting breakfast ready.  After his morning shower and ablutions, with metal devices on, Tim started to get dressed for work.

He had to wear one of those shirts that Mr. Johnson had purchased the previous day, and it was indeed difficult to get into, being inflexible, tight and confining, especially around the neck.  The shirt closed by fastening little hooks in loops.  It fit tightly everywhere.  Tim had to suck in his stomach as far as it would go in order to get the shirt fastened and closed.  Tim was used to wearing skin tight leather and rubber, but those were comfortable.  This was not.  This was more like metal, hard and unyielding, his upper body encased in it, since it was skin tight.

There were three fasteners at the neck.  The bottom neck fastener was tight enough to start choking Tim, the middle one went tightly over his Adam’s apple, and the top one pushed the collar noticeably into the top of Tim’s neck, being tighter than the one over the Adam’s apple.  When Tim started to lift the outside part of the collar to put the tie on, he realized it wouldn’t fold up, so he had to start stringing the thin end of the tie through from one side of the collar to the other.  The collar allowed a little room at the top for the tie to fit in, due to being tighter on the inside.  Mr. Johnson required Tim’s tie to be as tightly tied as he could get it at the top, working it back and forth, pulling it tighter until it couldn’t go any further.

The front of the collar did not shape down like shirt collars do, but instead straightened out as the front of his chin did, fitting snugly under it, his head forced up and erect.  With collar fastened and tie tied, Tim had difficulty swallowing.  And when Tim would start to look down, the top of the shirt would cut painfully into his neck like a dull knife.  Tim realized he would have to bend at the hips to look down with the shirt on, as that guy had said.  He knew he would have to concentrate to change his habit of bending his neck to look down.  Greg had once kept a four inch high stiff leather posture collar locked on Tim for a weekend, but while the posture collar pushed hard into Tim’s neck at the top and bottom, it didn’t push in the middle like this shirt did, and it wasn’t sharp at the top as this shirt was.

Tim tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t expand his chest to the maximum due to the tightness of the shirt.  But he didn’t notice the tit clamps when he did so, and wondered why they wouldn’t have been pushing in.  He noticed the shirt had a built-in bulge at the front of his tits to allow the clamps to fit into.

Then Tim started struggling to get his pants on.  They were certainly much tighter.  Tim was worried that his butt plug would show, as well as his chastity.  He had to push his chastitied cock down to between his legs to keep that from showing.  Those pants were hugging his torso tightly.  Tim had to suck in his butt as much as he could.  The seam at the back pushed into his butt, pushing his plug in further.

The vest fit like it was molded on him, fitting tightly over his shirt that was tight over his sucked-in stomach, and the coat was just as tight over the vest.  But at least the tit clamps didn’t show through, the shirt’s tit bulges covered by the vest and the coat.  It was a good thing that Tim’s cock was in chastity or it would have been ready to cum, just from getting dressed for work.  The tight tie at the top of the high collar felt to Tim like he had a noose tied tightly around his neck.  And when he’d walk, he’d feel the metal chastity rubbing on the inside of his legs.  He had to take shorter steps to prevent that.  The pants legs were only just wide enough to fit snugly over his boots.  Tim had never before thought of work clothes being bondage devices.

Breakfast and getting into the car went as before, as did getting out and going into work.  Tim had noticed the chauffeur’s face was red again at breakfast, though it hadn’t been at dinner, and there had been no noose put around his neck the previous night.  Tim wondered why his face was again red.  This time the chauffeur accompanied them to Mr. Johnson’s office, and Tim was tied to his office chair in Mr. Johnson’s office while the chauffeur did some work in the room that Tim had been put in the previous morning.  After that work was done, Tim was marched into that room, ordered down to his knees, a hanging chain was attached to his metal collar, pulled taut, and his ankles were brought up to be chained as close to his wrists as they could get.  He was as ramrod straight as he could get, stomach and butt still sucked in, still at attention, on his knees in an upright hogtie.  In this position, Mr. Johnson didn’t need to support him, and neither was he resting against the door when it was closed and locked.  He heard both Mr. Johnson and the chauffeur leave together, with Mr. Johnson later returning.

When Tim was removed from the room, marched back to Mr. Johnson’s desk, and the restraints removed so he could go to his desk to start the morning’s work, there again was no one else yet at work.  When Tim went into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, he started to get hard again at the sight.  The image that looked back at him appeared to have bigger neck and shoulders and a narrower waist.  The new clothes looked like they were molded on him and turned him into quite a conservative dresser.  He looked like a smaller version of Mr. Johnson, whose clothes also looked like they were molded on him.  Tim figured Mr. Johnson wanted to make Tim into an image of himself.  Tim realized that Mr. Johnson stayed in his clothes all day, and had a new respect for Mr. Johnson’s self-discipline, knowing how uncomfortable they were.

Tim didn’t go out for lunch, being too self-conscious about his new clothes.  About a half hour before quitting time, Tim had finished the assignment he’d been working on.  When he handed it into his supervisor, he was told that Mr. Johnson had a special assignment for him which would take him through the rest of the week.  He was to knock on Mr. Johnson’s door, and find out directly from him.  When Tim did so, Mr. Johnson told him to enter, which he did, and no one in the outside office saw him again for the rest of that week or the next.

The rest of that day, Tim found himself hoisted up on tiptoe with a chain attached to his hood, wedge gag tightly in place, while having on a combination neck and wrist restraints with a metal pole connecting them.  Mr. Johnson had told him that he wasn’t ramrod straight when he was at attention, not having had military training, and he needed some time being forced to be, so it would come naturally.  He was to now do his work in Mr. Johnson’s office being forced to stand ramrod straight until his posture was correct, using a tall work table since he couldn’t bend.

On returning home, Tim was again strapped into the chair in his room.  Only this time, he had to change into his rubber suit before he was strapped in, this one not having eye holes.  Tim was relieved to be out of those confining clothes.  His neck muscles were hurting from having the tight hard collar on all day at work.  But the straps from the chair were more noticeable while in his rubber cat suit, which was thinner than the leather straitjacket he’d had on the previous day.  Tim was having to forcibly calm himself, regulating his breathing with that enormous gag in his mouth.  The chair was made for a taller person, someone like the other boys, so the neck strap came down, being tightened around the top of his neck.  Tim was out of his confining work clothes, but this wasn’t much better, if at all.

Soon someone entered his room.  They put their fingers over his nostrils, cutting off his air.  Tim had enough in his lungs so that he could take it for a minute or so, but soon he started thrashing around as his air supply was cut off.  At last, before he passed out, the person removed their fingers to allow Tim to get some air.  But after a couple of seconds, the fingers were back again shutting off the air.  Again, just before Tim passed out, the fingers were removed.  This happened a couple more times before the person chuckled and left the room.  Tim recognized Mr. Johnson’s chuckle.  The chastity had done its job, though Tim’s cock was leaking pre-cum.  Tim was turned on by breath control, as Mr. Johnson found out.

Dinner went as before, except that Tim had to have the attached hood part of the rubber suit lowered to be able to eat.  The preparations for, and the entry to, the dungeon went as before, with Tim’s hood part again covering his head.  This time, after a beating similar to the previous evening, Tim had a form fitted metal pole attached to him by chains at the ankles, legs below the knee, legs above the knee, stomach, chest, and neck, with hands behind in cuffs attached to the pole.  Chains were put around his arms above his elbows, pulled tight to get his elbows as close together as possible.  He was hoisted horizontally into the air by two winches, one attached to the chains at the feet and the other to the chains at the chest.  The crotch zipper had been opened, and a weight had also been tied to Tim’s balls which dropped down.

Tim was left like this for the balance of the evening after the beatings.  Mr. Johnson told him to keep an erect posture while in this.  He said the form fitted metal pole at his back had been gotten for the rubber guy when he first joined and had the same problem.  It had eventually worked to get the rubber guy to be ramrod straight, and he expected it to eventually work for Tim as well.  Mr. Johnson said the dungeon’s devices could wait, that Tim’s posture was more important to get done properly.

The next day at work, Tim spent the entire day standing, doing his work in Mr. Johnson’s office in the same position he had been in while in the dungeon the previous night chained to the metal pole, only with hands and elbows free and without the ball weight, but gag in place.  He was not let out for lunch.  Wires were attached to his chastity, butt plug and nipple clamps which were hooked up to an electric device that was remotely controlled by Mr. Johnson at his desk.  During lunch, as well as before and after work hours, Tim would get a jolt of some intensity in some spot as determined by Mr. Johnson.

That evening, as foretold by Mr. Johnson, after the normal beatings while in his rubber suit, Tim was chained as he had been the previous evening, chained to the form-fitted metal pole and hoisted into the air for the evening’s stay.  It was to become a part of him until his posture became normally erect.

 

To be continued …