It was a quiet evening at home, he lived on his
own and as is sometimes the case had found an alternative to the normal
sexual relationship. His alternative is self applied rubber bondage.
Now bondage on your own might sound like a little bit of a taxing test,
but he was happy. Over the years he had been playing this game, he had
developed a number of routines and scenarios which kept him happy and
usually safe. It had started years ago and he no longer even cared about
the why or why not’s of it. It is his turn on. The road to where
he was that evening was one with a gentle gradient and he was probably
quite unaware that his alternative had become quite so extreme as it
may seem to the outsider looking in the window.
Not that such a thing was likely to happen as all the windows where he might be seen from were carefully closed off with curtains, and his play area was in the basement of his house which had no external windows or doors. His equipment was for the most part bought solely for the games he played, but unless seen in the uses he would put it to was the type of kit that a fit sportsman with an interest in both martial arts and water sports would have about the house. He had in all innocence started boxing, and found other uses for the gloves and guards, never intended by the makers. The water sports on the other hand had been a cover at first, so that he could have the various types of rubber suits used by divers and windsurfers and not raise any questions as to the reason why. Very important when living with parents, who definitely would not understand. His occasional games had gradually become a major interest both inside and outside the basement. But to our tale.
The basement was a haven of rubber and bondage for him. Down there there was only one master, himself, and the worries of his job and the life he leads for public consumption could be sponged away in his own warm quiet world. This day he was going to play one of his regular games and the preparations for it took some time. If you like there were layers of control each aimed at a different part of the body, or a different sense. He knew that the picture was to an extent make-believe but only at the very last point and it was in the preparations as much as arriving that he gained his pleasure.
He started naked in his play room, as a matter of practice he never took any ordinary clothing down so the room filled his view with the vision of his alternative world. The first item was a German made Boxers groin guard. Made of a plastic foam it was unaffected by sweat, tears or indeed any other fluids and could be washed clean when finished with. He had made a small improvement to it by fitting a small plastic plate into the back, carefully moulded on a plaster model, it separated his cock and made it very difficult to stimulate it from outside.
The next layer was a specially made wet suit, from a small cottage industry in Devon. Most wet suits are made from a layer of foam neoprene rubber with a stretch nylon cloth bonded to both sides. This firm, which only made to measure had developed what they considered to be the warmest suit in the world. Instead of just one thickness of neoprene. they would select several different types and bond them together. to produce a thicker suit. The one he had bought, just a few days before was their latest design. The inside of the suit was a second layer of a tear resistant smooth rubber material which left the inside of the suit absolutely smooth with no seams or lumps. the outside once finished had been sp rayed with a plastic seal to make it absolutely water tight and so as to shed water from the suit. His was in two pieces and he had specified it without zips. The trousers or as they are known in the trade a long john extended to the shoulders with arm slits and broad straps over the shoulders. He had specified high arms and broad straps as well as attached socks and found it difficult to get the trousers on even with the soap solution he had damped his body with to ease entry. The maker had warned him that it might be hard to take off, but that was for later. The jacket again made from the same material, had an attached hood with the smallest of face openings and was of the pull over type. By the time he had it on and the crotch strap clipped up the sweat was already beginning to trickle down his back. Not that it would puddle the suit fitted as promised like a second skin.
The next item to be limited was his hearing, for this he used soft wax ear plugs which dampened his hearing to a point where he could hardly hear the telephone bell. In the room next to the play room was his multi gym. It was his usual practice to ‘warm up’ with a set of exercises and he began to go through them. The new suit was, however, a factor of magnification he had not anticipated and after a few seconds on the cycle he was sweating more than ever before. He stopped and went back to the games room and the next item on his list for restriction.
The racing ski boots had four clips on them and went half way up his legs, size 13 they were a comfortable fit over the wetsuit legs and feet. Clipped up, the foot was held flat and rigid to an extent no other binding could hope to copy. The ankle was held in a bent condition at about 10 degrees of lean and again locked rigid. As he stood up from fastening the last clip again it came home to him how much thicker and more restricting his new suit was from the old tried and trusted suit he had used for years.
He clumped his way over to a bench with the rest of the days play things laid out on it. The ski boots made movement difficult and with the ear plugs and wetsuit hood up all he could hear was his own heart and breathing. On the bench were a number of items which he had acquired from various sources. First on the list for attention were his hands. The boxers bandages went on over a thin rubber glove wrapping round the wrist and separating the fingers with more turns round the hand. By the time he had finished he could hardly move his fingers and they were compressed in to a half open fist. The time spent learning how to box had not been wasted! Into his mouth went an Australian designed double gum shield or mouth piece. Made by a dentist in Australia it comprised of two ordinary shields moulded over the upper and lower teeth, then separated by blocks of plastic bonded to both so as to hold the moth partially open. He had persuaded the dentist to make two of these for him. One he had modified with a rubber plug so that it made the best gag he had experienced.
That left only three items on his bench. A pair of American 18 ounce boxing gloves, a webbing strap with a ring on it and his pride and joy; A special diving mask designed for the oil industry so that a diver could weld underwater without the use of a welding shield in front of mask. It was a clever design, the face mask glass was a form of liquid crystal unit. A switch on the front of the mask could turn the visor black, or as near as made little difference. The mask was heavy and he had removed the breathing regulator from it, replacing it with a home made set of sound filters which were very effective. Without the gag his loudest shouts were little more than a murmur, with the gag there was so little sound it could be said to be totally effective. He put the mask on an did the straps up.
He opened a draw in the bench and checked that the divers knife was Iying there ready for use and slid it shut again. It was his insurance and being a careful man he always checked. The boxing gloves were next and as he pulled them over his hand the sweat was gently trickling down his nose. Without thinking he raised a hand to wipe the drop away. It stopped short and his muffled laugh was heard by no one other than himself. The gloves had been laced back to front with the tails in the palm. He had a Fixlock clamp over the lace ends the same as were used on sleeping bags and other climbing gear and to tension them a clever piece of engineering; On the bench was a plate with a deep ‘V’ notch. Under it was a bar on a rail, held up by a spring and connected to a treadle. He positioned the glove and its lace clamp above the plate. The lace ends, tied together, dropped round the bar. With a quick press on the treadle the laces were tight and with the gloves and bandages there was no way he could free the clamp or pull the glove off his hand.
At this point his preparations were almost complete.
He was quite proud of the fact he had reached this point without shooting
his load. The heat inside the suit was incredible and he realised that
the game would last for about an hour at the most before he had to free
himself. His body was now wet with sweat all over and as he moved he
could feel the sweat move around the suit, trickling over the bottom
of the face opening in the hood and building up in the mask. He was
well pleased, speech was impossible and even the grunts he could make
seriously muffled. His hearing had been reduced by around 90% and his
sense of touch had been almost completely removed by the suit and gloves.
A flick of a switch would remove his vision. All that was left was his
freedom to move about, and that would be handled in the next few minutes.
First the hands and arms. The webbing strap had come from a chandlers, about 2.5 meters long and fitted with a friction clamp. He had melted a small hole in the free end. At it’s maximum extension it was looped through a figure of eight ring making three equal loops. He picked it up (the gloves mading manual dexterity very difficult) and slipped one loop over each arm leaving the buckle end hanging between his legs. He walked over to the wall and reaching between his legs pulled up the free end of the strap. On the wall was a cup hook and to this he fitted the end of strap. Stepping back gently the strap was pulled into a loop between his groin and the wall. Now came the difficult part; he looped one hand through the strap getting a turn round his wrist, reached up with his other to flick the switch on the mask plunging himself into an internal darkness. The second hand no followed the first. By gentle pressure on his arms and moving away from the wall he increased the strap tension until he could no longer remove his hands from the loops of the strap. A flick of the waist and hips freed the end of the strap from the cup hook. He knew that by pressing the clamp against the door frame he could slacken the strap and start the process of freeing himself.
Blind as he now was he shuffled back to the wall and with his shoulder against it moved slowly towards the corner of the room. Arriving there he now knew his precise position and feeling behind him with his foot he touched the ski bindings screwed to the floor. Like everything else he had gathered together they were of the best quality. The force required to break them open could be adjusted from a little tug to a point where no force would move them. He had set them so that they were firm enough to hold his legs under most of the jerks and pulls he would apply. But when he wanted out, by leaning forward until his head was against the wall and jerking with all his strength, he could break out. This was his escape from self bondage and he frequently checked and adjusted the tension of the bindings to have them at just the correct setting.
Clipping his feet into the bindings he had now achieved his favourite bondage position. Behind him mounted on a sturdy frame was a rally car bucket type seat. If he grew tired but was not yet ready to free himself he could sit down for a while and with difficulty stand up again. The seat was fitted with a full rally harness but he had never worked out how to utilise it in his games.
Careful as he was, in his excitement to get his new suit on and play, he had forgotten one important check before going down to his play room. He had not locked the door to his house! Excusable really as he lived in a lodge house which had belonged to a big house, now gone. His nearest neighbour was more than a mile away. As he happily struggled to free his hands bouncing on his legs twisting and jerking at his legs totally away in his own world all he could hear was his breathing and his heart which was beginning to speed up. He did not hear the car drawing up at the drive, nor the knocking on his door. As he could see nothing he did not see the door to the playroom open or one of his closest friends look in at his suited, strapped and generally helpless figure. It was a friend he had got to know since moving into the area, used the same gym, and had expressed similar interests, boxing, water-skiing and diving. What he did not know was that his friend had one other thing in common with him; he too had a craving for rubber bondage.
His friend stood for a while looking at him, breathing deeply to get his own emotions under control and looking at all the equipment lying around the play room. He then moved forward on silent feet and looked closely at the way his pal had bound himself, noting the blacked out mask, straps, suit and the chair behind him. At that moment the first man decided he had had enough standing (it is quite tiring on the legs) and settled back cautiously onto the edge of the bucket seat. His breath was coming quickly from with the mask and he was shaking slightly from his efforts. Quick as a flash his friend moved forward, speedily but very expertly arranging the straps of the rally harness. When all was ready he pushed his friend back further into the seat, closed the straps round his waist, over his shoulders and up between his legs clamping them all into the quick release buckle and taking up the slack.
The effect on his victim was electrifying. Imagine if you can, yourself in that position: A carefully developed scheme to give you the feel of full bondage, probably an imaginary scenario where someone else has left you there helpless. Knowing in your heart it is just a game and suddenly, a hand pushing you back, totally taking over control. You can see nothing, hear nothing, say nothing; straps you know you can not free being passed over your body and the faint sound of the clips slamming home. He started to jerk and thrash at the bonds but there was little he could do to move. His design was perfect and he could not even move his shoulders or lift his bottom from the seat. His legs were locked solid as were his hands, all that he could do was move his head and that was restricted by the wings and head rest of the bucket seat.
“It’s all right John.” said the friend, “it’s me Iain. You’re amongst friends.” John continues to thrash about and Iain, smiling to himself repeated his statement only louder. Still no effect. Laughing out loud Iain stepped round the quivering body in the chair, bent forward to look at the mask and flicked the switch to clear the face piece. The look in Johns eyes was one of combined mortification and relief. Iain, never one to hold back, collapsed into total hysterics. Then, pulling himself together hestood up and looked at John who was still jerking at his bonds and looking at him now part angry, part pleading. Miming with his hands Iain said “Earplugs” exaggerating the lip movements. Giving up his futile struggle John nodded his head at the same time making a few grunting noises that Iain could hardly hear. “And a Gag?” Iain looked at John with some respect. Again the grunting noises and a nod of the head from John.
Iain stepped across the room, picked up a stool and came back sitting down in side Johns sight area. He bent forward and pulling the hood back removed one ear plug before pulling the hood forward again. “Don’t want you to get cold do we!?” he said. John bumped up and down in the seat and again grunted at Iain. “Can you hear me now ?” Iain asked. John nodded. “Is it hot in there?” Again the nod. “Now think carefully,” Said Iain “I will let you free any time, but isn’t this more fun than doing it on your own?” A pause and then a hesitant nod. “I’m not going to interfere with you sexually, or kill you - but now you can make a choice. Either I undo the seat belt and leave switching the mask back to black, or, we play together for the rest of tonight and the weekend ahead. Well? Which is it to be? Do you want me to go?” As he looked in the mask at Johns eyes he could see the indecision. He said nothing else, just smiling gently at him. After a few moments John shook his head.
“Good!” said Iain, “Now think well about this. That is a heavy suit you are wearing. If it gets too hot for you three sharp grunts and we will pause for a while to cool you off. In the burn outside! OK?” Again a long pause. John’s eyes looked worried. “Don’t worry! I’ll make sure no one sees you!” John nods. “Good, Now don’t go away, I am just off home for a few bits and pieces. Shorts and a tee shirt seem a little under-dressed. Apart from which I will never keep control of this” he said, flicking the bulge in his shorts. Iain reaches forward to John, pulls back the hood and replaces the ear plug, pauses and pulls the plug out again “How about you, is it boxed in?” looking down at Johns groin. John nods again. “Hard box or soft?” John grunts,. “Sorry forgot about that”. He reaches between Johns legs and punches him in the groin. John flinches but shows no pain in his eyes. “Hard?” A nod. “Good, its better that way. You’re in for some experience! Are you comfortable just now?” A nod. “Fine, back ..... sometime soon”. The ear plug goes in and the switch flicks, blacking out the mask.
TO BE CONTINUED (it never was)
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