By BondageChallengeGames

Leave your freedom at the door

“When you arrive strip and put on the gear I have left for you. Save the blindfold for last. Once you have the blindfold on, say loudly ‘I’m ready sir.’”

Sir Nguyen, or Jon Nguyen as he’d introduced himself to me in our ‘intro to geology’ throwaway class back in college, had a very one-track mind when it came to kink. Sir Nguyen was obsessed with inescapable bondage, and when it was time to play a scene that was the only thing he was obsessed with. When he got you locked up he didn’t care much for fucking you, or hurting you, or pushing you to the limit, or humiliating you, or letting you cum, he just wanted you immobile and with no hope of escape. The only thing Sir Nguyen would do once he got you restrained was use an electro violet wand on you, not for pleasure or pain, but to make you jump and test your restraints. Once he was sure you couldn’t escape, he would simply leave you restrained until he decided to tie you up a different way.

This wasn’t to say Jon didn’t like sex. We’d sucked each-other off and fucked plenty of times back in college, probably more often than we’d do a bondage scene. Jon Nguyen was a great partner: caring, fun, able to not take himself too seriously, and always eager to reciprocate. Sir Nguyen was a completely different person.

And Sir Nguyen, not Jon, was the one I that would meet me at the door.

I drove for the better part of the day through Iowa. The incredibly flat and monotonous scenes on either side of “scenic” interstate 35 dragging on as I impatiently drove to the house that would be my prison for a night. Finally pulling off the interstate I drove down a series of off-roads until I reached Jon’s house. It was surrounded by fields, flanked by a few trees that were the only ones on the whole farm. A one story house with a basement stood at the end of a gravel drive way, with a work-shed nearby.

I got out of my car, texted Riley to let him know I made it (complete with a picture of myself for verification) and walked up to Jon’s door. With no neighbors for at least half a mile in any direction, I didn’t even bother to hide my hard-on making a tent in my gym shorts.

I opened the door, unlocked as always when I came over for one of these scenes. As commanded, I stripped, which went quickly as I’d been in gym shorts and an undershirt for the ride over. On a counter nearby Sir Nguyen had sat iron fetters, a pair of high-security Irish-style handcuffs, and a blindfold. I locked the fetters on to each of my ankles and then picked up the handcuffs. I put my hands out in front of me and after a little bit of maneuvering, managed to lock my hands in them. The way the brought my hands rigidly close to each other made bending my elbows and holding my hands up to my face the most comfortable option, but I forced my arms down to pick up (with some difficulty) the blindfold –a wide sleep mask – and put it on my face. Once I was done, I turned to face where I thought the door was and said…

“I’m ready sir.”

***

Nothing. Silence. My first thought was that I hadn’t said it loud enough. Of course, I didn’t want to say it again, that would be impatient. Plus it was a small house and I practically yelled it.

My next thought was that something went wrong, What if Jon had forgot I was coming, or lost track of time, what if something terrible happened to him and I was stuck here, with no way out and no way to contact anyone! Sure Riley knew where I was, and had said he’d send help if he didn’t hear from me tomorrow, but 24 hours!? Alone!? So much could go wrong.

Before I could sink too far into the rabbit hole I heard Sir Nguyen walk up behind me. He grabbed my arms right below my shoulders and spun me around to face him.

“Walk.”

He started to walk through the house, grabbing on to my left wrist and guiding me behind him. He walked quickly, and I struggled to keep up, the fetters’ short chain restricting my movement. He walked me through his house, turning corners until he finally stopped, pulled on my arms and said,

“Stop.”

I felt a cold leather strap wrap around my mid-section, as he tightened it behind me I was pulled back until I stood flush against a cold metal pole. I felt a sharp shock on my ass and I instinctively yelped and tried to pull away, but was stopped by the belt that strapped me to the pole.

“Good. Stay.”

I heard him walk away. I decided to try to escape; not out of fear, but out of pride… and for the chance to jump him and make him my prisoner. I tried to bend my arms around so I could unhook the leather belt strap. The angles my wrists were at made moving my arms downward hurt, and I quickly found I couldn’t get enough range of movement to reach the buckle even if did force my arms to that level. I tried to wiggle my hips so the strap would fall down, but wasn’t able to get it loose before I heard Sir Nguyen return.

Sir pulled on the chain of my fetters, drawing my ankles in until they were touching. Then he locked both of the cuffs directly to one another, turning the fetters into leg cuffs that wouldn’t allow me to move them at all. I was immediately thrown off balance, but the leather strap around my waist kept me upright against the pole.

Next Sir unlocked the handcuffs. Before I could even think about pulling away, he grabbed my wrists and pulled them behind my back. Using a normal set of handcuffs with a chain in-between, he re-cuffed my hands behind my back, on the other side of the pole. Securing me in two places to the cold post.

I felt another sharp shock, this time to my stomach right above my crotch. I thrashed around and starting shouting out in pain. I tried showing Sir that I couldn’t break free so he’d stop, but he kept shocking me.

“Ow, ow, fuck, oh shit,” I flexed my arms and legs but the metal was unforgiving, I tried to move around on the pole but Sir Nguyen didn’t let up “please… Im trapped –oh fuck- aghhhh! I- can’t move, I promise sir- please stop-“

Sir Nguyen didn’t stop, not until I actually started trying to break free, actually trying to get out of my metal bindings. Only when he was absolutely sure I had struggled as much as I possibly could did he stop.

Then he left. I heard him walk away, followed but the sound of a door closing. I figured I must be in a closet. Knowing Sir, I’d be in here for a while. Standing for an hour or more sounded like torture in itself, so I decided to try and sit down against the pole. Thankfully with my leg cuffs not connected the post I figured I could kick my legs out and slide down until I was sitting. Slowly I wiggled my way down. My handcuffed hands slid no problem, but the leather belt took a while. It was tight against my waist, and while I couldn’t get it to fall down (especially not with my hard dick in the way) I did manage to get it to slide with my body until I was sitting on the floor of Jon’s closet.

And there I sat, my hands cuffed to the pole behind me, my legs tightly locked in front of me, and a thick leather belt strapping my waist securely to the post.

Even for someone who regularly gets tied up, I rarely feel the true long-term boredom of bondage the same way as when I’m Sir Nguyen’s prisoner. Other friends will keep me tied up for a long time, sure, but they’re usually doing something to me. Fucking me or fucking with me or something. With Sir Nguyen though I just sit here, the minutes dragging on and on until time means nothing.

Eventually Sir came back. I heard the door open and feel a cool breeze blow in.

“Up.”

I wiggle my way until I am standing up. Sir Nguyen unlocks my ankle cuffs from each-other, leaving the chain in-between them so they are once again fetters. He unlocks one of my wrists, but immediately grabs it tight. He re-locks wrist, this time so that the handcuffs are no-longer on the other side of the post and no longer keeping me pinned to it. He releases the leather belt strap, and I immediately run forward, trying to escape. I can barely move my feet forward, and he quickly grabs the chain between my wrist cuffs, pulling me back towards him. He gives me a long sustained shock on the ass, until I yell out and start to bend backwards.

He stops, and I stand up straight, breathing heavy. He starts to push me forward, holding my handcuffs tight so I can’t escape. From behind he leads me forward, still blindfolded. He leads me through his house, until I feel a cool breeze against my naked skin. Sir Nguyen takes my blindfold off, and after my eyes adjust I see I’m standing in front of his open back door.

Now able to see, Sir Nguyen leads me down the stairs outside his back door and across his backyard to his shed. I look around, thankful that no one is anywhere near enough to see me chained up and naked, and walk obediently toward the shed.

When we get to the door of the windowless building, Sir turns me around, still careful to hold my handcuffs, and opens the door to let us in. He drags me inside to the middle of the room, where a large chain hangs from the ceiling. On the end of the chain theirs an unlocked padlock, which he uses to lock the chain of my handcuffs to the vertical hanging chain. Then, Sir Nguyen pulls on a nearby chain, and my arms are lifted upward. With my hands cuffed behind my back this forces me to bend forward into a painful strappado position.

I know Jon well enough that this is a temporary position while he sets something up, but I take no solace in the fact that I don’t know how long his next surprise will take to set up.

From where I stood I looked around the shed. It had all the tools, half-finished projects, and hardware of a normal shed, but with a few restraint devices added in. I saw the x-cross that Jon had made a few years back, the heavy duty bondage chair, and the gibbet cage, all of which I’d spent plenty of time restrained by. I didn’t see the sturdy cage I knew sir had, which I assumed that meant I’d see it later.

Sir Nguyen had dragged a large flat 8×8 wooden board close to me, and laid it down on the ground. I saw him walk over and grab four steel pipe clamps, some screws, a Philips-head drill bit, and drill. He sat his tools down beside the wood board, and pulled a nearby chain in such a way that I felt the chain pulling my arms backward get some much welcome slack. He continued to lower the chain, until all the tension had left my arms, and in fact there was plenty extra chain to where I could even move around a little bit.

“Thank you S-“

“Sit down” Sir Nguyen cut me off.

With the extra length of chain I was able to sit down on the ground.

“On the board” he said. I quickly corrected, scooting over until I sat crisscrossed on the board, still handcuffed and locked to a chain that tethered me to the center of the room.

“Legs out.”

I stretched my legs out until they were almost at the end of the board. Sir went over and unlocked the fetters, and taking one ankle in his hand, led it to where he wanted it on the board. He took the pipe clamp –this rigid metal band with two holes on the end and a curve in the center – and put it so it pinned my ankle to the board. Then with his drill and two screws, he screwed the pipe clamp to the board, pinning my ankle between the rough wood and the cold steel. Then, taking my other ankle, he did the same, spreading it so my legs were shoulder length apart.

He walked behind me, and unlocked my wrists from my handcuffs. While my hands were free, there was no use in fighting, my legs were fastened to the wood, and nothing short of him unscrewing them would release me. I was permanently fixed to this plank until Sir decided to let me free. I sat there, legs outstretched, and obediently laid down when he commanded me. The wood was not painful, it seemed like Jon had at least done one pass sanding it, but it definitely wasn’t comfortable.

As I laid down, Sir moved my wrists so they were down by my stomach in a very relaxed and sustainable position. Then, starting with my right wrist and finishing with my left, he fastened me to the board with two more pipe clamps, which he ran over my wrists and screwed the ends into the wood. I was trapped, totally locked to the board on the ground, with no hope of escape.

But Sir Nguyen wasn’t done with me yet.

First he zapped my feet with the electric wand. I thrashed and tried to slip out, but not only was the metal impossible to break out of, but struggling against it hurt. I saw Sir smile and stop zapping me, which I thought would mean he was satisfied with how he’d restrained me, but was unfortunately not correct. He walked over, switched out the drill bit for a large hold-driving one.

Honestly, I started to panic a little. Here I was, naked and fastened to a board in a man’s windowless shed, with no one around to hear me scream, as the man who restrained me stood over me with a power tool and the full ability to torture me in whatever way he wanted if he so chose.

He brought the drill down close to me, and I started hyperventilating, really pulling and fighting against my immovable bonds.

“Hey Derek,” Jon said, breaking his dominant façade for a moment, “don’t worry man.”

I took a few deep breaths and gave a little smile.

Sir Nguyen started drilling ½ inch diameter holes around my sprawled out body. Making holes on either side of my stretched out arms and legs, and beside me at the level of my stomach and chest. It took a few minutes, and with the amount of effort he was putting into this particular setup, I assumed whatever he had in store would be how I would spend most of the rest of the day. Once he was done drilling the holes, he stood up, walked over to some shelves and returned with two cinder blocks and a large amount of rope.

Sir Nguyen lifted the board I was fixed to up on the side closest to my head, and slid a cinder block underneath it. He then walked around to edge of the board closest to my feet, lifted that up and slid the other cinder block underneath it. The board was lifted about 6 inches off the ground, and while my body weight did make it bend down a bit in the middle, it supported my weight enough that there was space between the board and the ground. From here, Sir started to weave the rope in one hole and out the other. He ran the rope up through the hole to the right of one arm, over my arm, and then down through the hole on the other side; he pulled it taught and it pinned that section of my arm to the board. He then repeated that, multiple times every few inches down each arm and leg, as well as running rope across my chest, stomach, and belt line.

When he was finished, and he pulled the rope taught at each point and tied it off. With the rope pinning every limb and length of my body to the board at multiple points, I was truly immobilized; the screwed in metal clamps ensured I couldn’t escape, but this form-fitting body cage of rope ensured I couldn’t move in any way.

Sir shocked me with electricity, but for only a few seconds, as it was abundantly clear the only thing I could do in this position was strain and curl my toes. Satisfied with his work, Sir removed the cinder blocks and lowered the board back to the ground, took a picture of me, and left the shed.

There I was left, alone, bolted and roped to an unforgiving wooden board. I couldn’t move beyond a few futile twitches.

Having been restrained by Jon before, I knew that I wasn’t completely alone. Somewhere in the shed he had a camera and mic hidden so he could see and hear me. If I was ever in danger I could shout out and he’d come rescue me. I may be his captive, but I’m still his friend. Also I can’t imagine a dead person would be as fun to tie up.

My board was a very uncomfortable surface to lay on, but thankfully the way Sir had bound me didn’t put any strain on my muscles. I lay there in that dim shed for a while, unable to do anything but breathe and think. My dick having been hard for most of the day and yet so deprived of any stimulation at all, eventually started to soften, even though my mind was still desperately in need of a release I had no way of giving it in this position.

Eventually I must have fallen asleep, because I was woken up by a sudden blast of cold water. Pointing a garden hose through the open door of the shed, Sir Nguyen sprayed my body and the board with cold water, focusing on my face and dick. I tensed and fought in vain to get away from the painfully chilly water, but my bondage kept me pinned and unable to do anything by shiver and take it. Eventually Sir stopped spraying me, and stood there for a minute, letting me lay in the cold puddle – the wet ropes now uncomfortably tense against my skin.

Sir took a few more pictures of me, before coming inside the shed. For the next little bit he worked on something at a table in the side of the shed, during which time my body never truly warmed up. Eventually though, he stood up and walked over to me.

It took him a pretty long time to release me from the board. Sir methodically unwrapped the ropes and then unscrewed the hooks binding my wrists. He left my ankles fastened to the board long enough to handcuff my hands behind my back.

“I’m going to let you go to the bathroom.” He said, while unscrewing the final bolts pinning me to the board. “Then I’m putting you in the cage for the night. If you obey me and don’t try to escape when we head inside, I’ll give you food tonight.”

“Yes sir,” I said, “thank you sir.”

He unscrewed the last screw and I stood up. I stretched out as much as I could with my hands cuffed behind my back. I followed Sir Nguyen out of the shed and into his house. By now it was dark outside, and the noise of crickets filled the warm and humid summer air. Sir led me to the bathroom, and closed the door, waiting outside for me to be done. With my hands cuffed behind me I had to piss sitting down.

As I sat there I thought about escaping. This was the closest I’d been to freedom since I got here, maybe I could break out. Since our first time doing bondage together, Jon had told me that if I ever escaped his restraints and managed to get him locked up before a scene was over, I could do whatever I wanted to do to him. One time I had gotten free, pinned him down, handcuffed him with his own cuffs, and spent the rest of the night tormenting and fucking him. Since then I’d never gotten the chance again. It would be nice…

Alas, even as close to freedom as I was, the handcuffs were locked. Try as I might I probably couldn’t break free, and even if I did get free Jon was roughly the same size as me, and probably about as strong, so there was no guarantee I’d be able to capture him. It was too dangerous a gamble to risk going hungry for the night on. So I stood up, awkwardly flushed the toilet, and attempted to wash my hands – though the cuffs made it just about impossible. I kicked the door to signal I was done, and after he opened it I followed him into his bedroom, where he’d set up the strong metal cage I knew so well.

He opened the door to the cage and I obediently crawled inside. Sir locked the cage, sealing me in with a sturdy padlock. He bent down and asked me for my hands, and I shuffled around to stick my cuffed hands through the bars. Sir Nguyen was kind enough to unlock my handcuffs, leaving me naked and unbound for the night, yet still helplessly contained by the unyielding metal cage. Sir left the room for a moment and returned with some packaged breakfast bars, a banana, and a ziplock bag of trail mix, which he slid through the cage.

Sir Nguyen watched me scarf down my dinner, and then left, presumably to go shower and get ready for bed. While he was gone I tried to get comfortable in the cage. I curled up into a ball and rested one arm behind my head. My dick had gotten hard again as I moved around in the cramped and sturdy cage, locked up like a dangerous animal. With my hands free I jacked myself off, finally giving myself the release I’d been craving for an unknowable amount of hours. I shot my built up load, and panted in the cage, my muscles relaxing as a wave of relief fell over me.

Sir returned, hopped in bed, turned off the lights, and pretty quickly fell asleep. It took me a while, but eventually I drifted off. I woke up a couple times in the night, once hitting my head on the roof of the cage when I tried to sit up, but both times I got back to sleep.

Jon woke me up in the morning, unlocking the cage and helping me out.

“So,” Jon said, no longer playing the dominant ‘Sir Nguyen’ role, “how was it! Did you have a good time?”

“Oh yes!” I smiled and stretched out, “I had a great time dude, as always that was incredible!”

Jon smiled. I put on my underwear and we ate breakfast both half-dressed. We chatted for a while. He caught me up on his life, and I told him about mine. He asked me about my road trip and new home in Atlanta. To thank him for his hospitality I gave him a blowjob after breakfast. After that we cuddled for a bit and talked for another 15-20 minutes

My goal was to leave by 9am, to make sure I got to my friends in the Twin Cities before it got too late. I missed that by a little bit, but it was worth it, and by the time I waved goodbye and drove away at 9:45 I left feeling very good about my night and morning with Jon.

I drove north, for the biggest detour of my roadtrip, heading toward my next stop with Brian and Jordan. Unlike the past two days, where I knew what sort of fate awaited me at Riley and Jon’s, anything could happen with Brian and Jordan. In fact, if I played my cards right I might not even be the one getting tied up. After my past two nights spent as someone’s prisoner, being the dom for a change did sound like a pretty good deal. Of course, anything could happen, and I drove on, excited for what was to come.

To be continued …