Unexpected Total Control

By Marknorth

I had been bothering my buddy to get together for some bondage fun for quite awhile – he was the one who locked me in bondage for 24 hours (see A Device for Self-Bondage) but our schedules just never meshed.  He travels for work (he’s in sales) and he is on the road probably 3 weeks every month).  I told him that the “Lost Identity” story that I wrote was going to be on the Metalbond blog and he should read it again (I had emailed it to him when I first wrote it).

He called me soon after that and asked if I was game for a minor re-creation of a part of the story. I wasn’t sure what he was getting at but he quickly explained that he could arrange for me to lose a bit of my identity by picking me up on his next trip and dropping me off in a different city and have me travel back home by bus – without much money – just like the guy in the story.  He said he would pay for the bus tickets and handle the details, pick-up some thrift store clothes for me to wear, and give me some cash for the trip – so I would be totally dependent upon him for everything.  I thought about it for a while and the idea did excite me.  I tried to get more details out of him but he said he would take care of things and asked if I could take Thursday and Friday of the next week off.  I agreed and the ball was set in motion.

Wednesday he emailed me some instructions:  I was to meet him on Thursday at 1:00 pm near the Greyhound station in the city about an hour from my house (the closest bus station and where he lives).  There is a long-term parking lot nearby that I would leave my car until I got back.  He told me not to bring anything but myself and the clothes I would be wearing.

I arrived at the parking lot about 12:30 and found a spot close to the entrance.  He pulled in next to me about 15 minutes later and told me to take my cell phone, my wallet, and anything else I had in my pockets and lock them in the trunk of my car.  The only thing that I was to take with me was my driver’s license and car keys (nothing else on the key ring.)  He watched as I followed his instructions and then told me to get into his car.  He had taken on a gruff persona and I think he was already enjoying the game.

He stopped at a UPS Store down the block and we went in.  He inquired if they held packages for pick-up if they were shipped to the store and the hours that they were open.  The guy said they held packages and my buddy bought a pre-paid overnight pouch with the Store’s address on it and we left.  He reminded me that this store was on the way from the bus station back to my car and he had me put my car keys in the pouch.  He sealed and tossed it in the backseat of the car.  He said he’d drop it in a UPS box on our way.

He was heading to Des Moines on this trip.  So I was going to ride along with him, he would drop me off at the Greyhound station there and I would ride back on the bus alone.  We pulled on the freeway around 1:30 and I settled in for what was going to be about a 7 hour drive.  The route would take us west to Minneapolis before we turned south to Des Moines.  About an hour later he pulled off the freeway into a huge truck stop – the kind with a diner, lounge, a small motel, and showers for the truckers.  I thought he needed gas, but he just turned to me and said that the game was on.

He reached into the backseat and grabbed a knapsack that was on the floor behind him and told me to follow him.  He led me into the large locker/shower area and told me to sit on a bench.  He left for a minute and came back with a plastic grocery bag and a towel under his arm.  He smiled an evil grin and told me to strip and place all of my clothes in the bag.  He watched as I stripped and let me stand there naked for a few minutes – I was so scared that a trucker would walk in and find us and beat the crap out of the two fags.  After a bit he set the knapsack on the bench, put my license in a pocket of the pack, laid the towel on top and told me to go take a shower.  He wanted me in there for at least five minutes and would be paying attention to the time.  When I was done he would wait in the car while I got dressed with the clothes in the knapsack.  He had picked a spot in the locker room as far from the showers as possible and visions of high school gym class flashed in my head as I went into the open shower room.  I felt like a fool standing there taking a shower with no soap and I had no idea how to gauge 5 minutes.  I probably stood there for more like 10 before I went back out into the locker room.  My buddy was gone, the knapsack and towel were still there (to my relief), but now there were a couple of truckers in the room.  The watched me as I walked across the room but didn’t say anything.  I had to hurry my pace as my dick started to get hard thinking about the situation I was in.

I dried off (the towel was like sandpaper) and pulled the clothes out of the pack.  Sure enough he had found a ratty pair of black jeans, an old black t-shirt, an olive drab army coat, a bandanna, a watch cap, worn work boots, and some shabby socks.  There was also a jockstrap that, although relatively new, he must have jacked off in (at least I hoped it was him.)  I noticed something else in the pack – it was a sleeping bag in a stuff sack – that couldn’t be good.  I put the clothes on and immediately felt self-conscious.  The jeans had holes and bleach stains all over and the boots were dirty.  I had tied the bandanna around my neck and pulled the jacket on (thankfully it was a cool day) and stopped to look at myself in the mirror – just like in the story, it wasn’t me looking back.

I went out to find him and, of course, he was parked as far away from the building as possible to make me walk across the lot in front of everyone.  He told me to get in the backseat and shut up and then he pulled back onto the freeway.  We drove in silence except when he yelled to keep me from drowsing off.  We only stopped at the rattiest gas stations he could find so we could piss – I guess he wanted my situation to start to sink in.  He did drop the UPS pouch in a pick-up box in mid-afternoon, so baring some catastrophe it would be at the UPS Store on Friday.  We got into Des Moines about 9:30 after some road construction delays.  He pulled-off I-235 and stopped in an alley a couple of blocks from the Greyhound station.  It wasn’t the best neighborhood (I guess bus stations aren’t ever in really nice parts of town) and I was nervous about having to walk to the station.

He handed me an envelope and told me that the bus ticket was inside and 25 bucks in cash – that was all I would have except my driver’s license for the trip.  I pulled out the ticket and saw that it was only to Chicago.  He told me that the ticket for the next leg of the trip would be at the “Will Call” window in the Chicago station under my name (already paid for) – all I would need is to show my ID.  Then he told me to get out.  I stepped out of the car and he walked around and pushed me up against the wall of the alley.  I was wondering what the hell he was doing when he pulled out his cheapo digital camera and took some pictures of me.  He made me pull the jeans down and pull the jockstrap out for one of the pictures – great thing to do in an alley!  He got back in the car and drove away without another word.

02_Marknorth_Alley4

My situation dropped on me like lead balloon at hat point!  What the hell was I going to do if something went wrong? 25 bucks isn’t going to get me far and I was getting pretty scared of the whole idea.  I quickly walked to the bus station to make sure that I didn’t miss the bus.  It was almost 10:00 pm when I got into the station and the bus was leaving at 10:25.  The station was small and crowded.  There were a few metal benches down the middle of the room and some video games and vending machines along the wall at one end.  A few people stared at me when I walked in but didn’t really seem to care what I was wearing.  Looking around I would guess that a little under half the folks in the room were a little grungy (like me), everyone else was pretty well dressed.  They called the bus and we left a little after 10:30.

We arrived in Chicago at about 5:30 am after making 3 stops along the way.  I had been on the bus for 7 hours and was hungry and tired.  I tried to sleep on the bus but only dozed on and off.  I had kept the jacket and watch cap on for the whole trip (just because) and played with myself a little.  Once I got settled in I wasn’t so scared and I let myself go with it.  I went to the “Will Call” window, waited for what seemed like an hour, and picked up my ticket.  I was surprised again – it was to Minneapolis, not directly to the city I was headed for.  The bus was leaving at 7:50 am so I had a little time to kill.  I went to the help desk and asked of there were any buses that went directly “home.”  I was told there were but that I would have to buy a new ticket as the one I had was non-transferrable and I couldn’t get cash for it.  25 bucks wasn’t anywhere near the $140.00 I would need for the other ticket – I thought Greyhound was supposed to be cheap!  The clerk at customer service had looked me up and down the whole time I was asking questions and pretty much sneered at me.  I wasn’t used to being treated like this and I started to notice that more folks were giving me “looks” as I walked around.  I truly wasn’t me anymore.  I had some time to kill and, although the station was a lot nicer than the one in Des Moines (there were actually nice murals on the walls and it had a kind-of atrium area, I decide to take a little walk outside.  It was still pretty chilly so the jacket came in handy.  The neighborhood wasn’t as bad as I was expecting and I walked towards the lakefront.  The Circuit Court building was a few blocks down the street (made me feel safer for some reason!)  I could see the Hancock Tower off to the north and I eventually ended up at Grant Park.  I felt really out of place crossing Michigan Avenue!  I shop downtown on Michigan all the time!  The cops stared me down when I walked by and the gals walking their poodles gave me a wide berth and wouldn’t make eye contact – I had never experienced anything like this before and I didn’t like it much.  But, and here’s the rub, my dick was hard half the time I was walking around.  My buddy had set me up good and I was getting lost in this new me.  I thought about pan-handling, but there were too many cops around and I couldn’t afford to get into any kind of trouble.

 

Part 2

 

I stopped at a dive on my way back to the bus station and grabbed a greasy breakfast and a coke at the counter.  It was still 9 bucks and I didn’t leave a tip.  16 bucks left.  I got back to the station just about 7:40 and the bus was called soon after that.  I didn’t realize how close I was cutting it.  We headed out to Minneapolis on a full bus and the guy that sat next to me in the aisle seat had some serious BO – he had me blocked in.  I got hard again and pulled the jacket across my lap so he wouldn’t notice.

8 stops and a little over 10 hours later we pulled into Minneapolis.  It was almost 6:00 pm and I began to wonder what time the connection was to get me back “home.”  I assumed (prayed more likely) that he had left another ticket at “Will Call” for me – I only hoped it was direct back “home” and not another odyssey.  I had already been on buses for 18 hours and wondered around Chicago for another 2.  All for what should have been a 7 hour drive.  The bus from Chicago had stopped at a McDonald’s long enough to grab some food.  Another 7 bucks gone.  I had 8 dollars and some change left to my name.  I picked up the ticket at “Will Call” and damned near screamed – yes, it was direct back “home,” but it didn’t leave until 11:00 am the next day!  It was already Friday night – I wouldn’t be back until 3:45 pm on Saturday and the UPS Store was only open until 5:00 pm and it was closed on Sunday.  If I was delayed I wouldn’t be able to get my keys; I got scared again.  What the hell was I going to do for almost 16 hours before the next bus left?  I had 10 bucks and nowhere to go.  I checked at the desk to see if there was another scheduled bus that night.  There wasn’t.  Anyway, this ticket, too, was not exchangeable.  This clerk didn’t even hide her disdain when she looked at me.  I was getting used to it – thinking back I guess I expected it.  Again, I realized I was hard as I walked away.

16 hours.  I hung around the Greyhound station for awhile before deciding I should walk around a bit.  I would return later and maybe try to sleep on a bench in the lobby or something – now I understood why he had put the sleeping bag in the knapsack.  The Greyhound station was actually in a nice spot.  The Orpheum Theater was right behind it and the upscale restaurants and hotels were only a few blocks away.  There were a lot of folks walking around, going out for dinner, to a play, whatever.  They were all well-dressed and I realized that I was angry and jealous.  They ignored me as they walked by or even crossed the street.  Never eye contact and I, again, noticed the cops more than I had ever before.  There was no way that I was going to be able to find anything that I could afford to eat, so I decided I would grab a candy bar and a coke back at the station.  By the time a wandered back to the Greyhound station it was after midnight.  I had spent quite a bit of time just people watching outside the convention center and some theaters.  I pulled on the door to the station and it was locked!  The sign on the door indicated that they were cleaning the floors and it would reopen at 5:00 am.  Now what the fuck was I going to do?  I had assumed that it would be open all damn night – wrong!  I had another 4 1/2 hours to kill in a quickly emptying city.  I wandered around until I found a small bar; I thought about grabbing a drink – then I realized that a couple bucks wasted on a beer meant nothing to eat.  I got hard as hell again.  He definitely had thought this through – this wasn’t my life at all!  I found a park to the west of the Greyhound station and sat down on a bench in the shadows.  I jacked off at that point and came so damn hard it almost hurt.  The front of the jeans were now spotted and I thought about the street people that did this.  Gads!  I pulled out the sleeping bag and was going to try to get some rest on the bench when a squad car drove by.  They saw me and stopped long enough to tell me to move on.  I was scared as hell when they stopped – did they arrest people for vagrancy?  Would I be able to explain that I was waiting for a bus?  It didn’t matter – they just drove on when I walked away.

I walked around for the rest of the night.  Stopping here and there to rest.  My legs were tired, I was exhausted and I was still scared.  I had run into a few guys on the street that I think were drug dealers (or maybe just stoned) – they yelled at me from a distance but walked away when they got one look at me when they got closer – I guess they figured that I didn’t have any money to either buy with or to steal.  I was at the station when they opened the doors.  I went and took a piss, grabbed a couple of candy bars and a coke, and found a bench in an out-of-the way corner.  I had less than 4 bucks left and over 5 hours to wait.  I curled up and went to sleep.  A security guard tried to kick me out but I showed him my ticket and he backed off.  I was starting to hate these people!  I was hungry again when I woke up so I grabbed another candy bar and a bottle of water.  I had 83 cents left.

They finally called for the bus and we were on the road by 11:00 am.  We made 6 stops along the way.  It seemed we stopped in every small town there was!  5 hours later we pulled into my “home” station.  Since this was a smaller city I got a lot of stares and folks were commenting to one another under their breath as I passed.  I didn’t care anymore.

I made it to the UPS Store about 40 minutes before they closed.  They guy gave me really hard time when I tried to pick up the package with my keys in it.  My buddy had addressed it to me at this address but the guy was reluctant to accept my driver’s license as proof that I was who I said I was (I really no longer looked anything like the picture.)  Eventually he relented and I damn near ran out of the store in frustration.  I was hard as hell as I walked back to my car.  As I pulled my wallet and cell phone out of the trunk I realized that the guy in the booth at the car lot was watching me closely.  He must have thought I was breaking into the car!  Before he called the cops or something I drove out – stopping to pay with my credit card at the auto ticket device.  It dawned on me how I had taken that for granted just a few days ago.

I got home about 6:00 pm.  I realized then that I hadn’t even taken the jacket or watch cap off during the drive home.  I glanced in the hallway mirror and did not recognize the guy looking back.  Before I got two more steps my phone rang – caller ID showed it was my buddy.  He figured I would be home about this time and was checking in.  I swore at him before he told me to shut the fuck up.  I obeyed instantly – something that I would have never done before.  I started to get hard again as I realized that he had obtained some control over me.  Before he hung up he reminded me that I knew his phone number and could have always called him if something went wrong (if I hadn’t spent all the money, that is.)

I was just about to undress when I realized that I was still hard.  I jacked off again into the now well-stained jock.  I grabbed the sleeping bag from the knapsack and unrolled it in the basement and went to sleep.  I wasn’t going to change out of the clothes until Monday morning when I had to get ready for work.  I wanted this to last as long as possible.  I wonder if we can arrange something like this again?

 

THE END

 

Metalbond would like to thank Marknorth for sharing this true story. (NOTE: He tells me his buddy included a note pad and pen in the knapsack, so that he could write things down for this blog.)

 

 

 

4 thoughts on “Unexpected Total Control”

  1. WOW! What a thrill! Looking forward to the second trip. Maybe across counrty to meet his friend/Sir for a vacation week then sent back home via a similar situation……

  2. Having grown up poor, I wouldn’t have a problem doing this in those clothes with $5 spending money. But being comfortable in that role, it wouldn’t be a turn-on for me. I guess it’s doing what you’re not used to that made it a turn-on for you.

  3. Mark North, this object is living that kind of life every day as its Mentor is preparing object to transfer ownership. Mentor is stripping object of its previous life and turning it in to a complete object. Having grown up in an upper class household full of luxurious privileges, giving up complete control and becoming what it is destined for has been a challenge to say the least.

    captive torture object

  4. A great story. I would have a terrible time mentally, and it would be one hell of an adventure. I rarely leave the house without at least $100 in my pocket plus credit card and ATM card.

    buck

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