Re: Lovingly Zipped Up (M/M)
Posted: Thu Oct 07, 2021 8:23 am
It's taken me far too long but here is the concluding chapter for this story. Thanks to all those who have shown their support for my first foray into the mad world of TUG writing.
The man jumps up onto the bed and sits astride the chest of his tightly bound captive, forcing a burst of air from his boy’s nostrils. Totally naked now, his erection swings tantalisingly in front of him, just inches away from the boy’s face. A look of hunger and desire enters the boy’s eyes and he attempts to lift his head up to get closer to it.
“What’s the matter boy? Like what you see?”
The boy nods his head up and down, his eyes now pleading, a desperate groan attempting to force its way past fabric and tape.
“Too bad your mouth is full of my underwear. Does Daddy taste good?”
The boy nods his head again. The underwear has definitely absorbed some of his Daddy’s flavours but it is a pale imitation when compared to the real thing. He longs to worship the beautiful appendage before him, run his tongue around the head, swallow the whole thing down to the root. Bound and gagged as he is he can only look and imagine.
The man leans forward and his erection approaches the boy’s face. He takes it in hand and uses it like a paint brush to trace a pattern across the canvas before him, a slimy trail of pre-cum is left in its wake. He forces the boy’s head into his groin, burying the boy’s nose in his thick pubic bush, forcing smells of musk and sweat to fill the boy’s nostrils as his meaty balls rest on the boy’s tape covered chin.
Eventually the man pulls back and his face takes the place of his cock, their faces so close together that their noses touch. The man then proceeds to trace the same pattern as before only this time using his tongue as the paint brush. One slimy trail is replaced with another as the man’s smooth, wet tongue slips across the boy’s face. A final kiss on the boy’s nose and the painting is complete.
The boy is in heaven with so much attention being lavished upon him. He loves the deep, manly smell of his Daddy’s crotch and the sensation of his Daddy’s tongue working its slow way across his face is incredibly sensual. He is disappointed when the man finally pulls back until he sees him reach for one of the leather objects on the bed.
The man holds up a beautifully crafted leather muzzle. The heavily padded front section completely envelops the lower half of the boy’s face, hiding the tape gag completely but leaving his nose exposed. The collar is fastened snugly around his neck and the man then takes his time with the head straps, adjusting and readjusting until all the tensions are balanced evenly and the muzzle is comfortable and secure. Just for good measure a padlock is then added to each buckle, ensuring the muzzle can’t be removed without a key. A key that now hangs around the man’s neck.
Next the man picks up a padded leather blindfold. He takes one last long look into the deep brown eyes of his boy before putting the blindfold into place and buckling it tight, robbing the boy of his sight.
Plunged into darkness, the thick padding ensures not one photon of light can enter. Hollow spaces around his eyes means the boy can still open them but open or closed it makes no difference, all he can see is black. Now he will just have to imagine the naked form of his Daddy whilst his other senses go on high alert trying to work out what will happen next.
The man dismounts and surveys his helpless captive, leather starting to restrain and cover his head now as well as the rest of his body. Only the skin of his ears, nose and forehead remains exposed along with a mop of unruly hair. All in good time.
He begins to spin a web of rope with the leather cocoon at the centre. The rope wraps around the bed frame and through the large D rings on the sleepsack, slowly zig zagging up the left side of the bed before the same operation is repeated on the right side. Further adjustments are made to ensure everything is as tight as possible. It looks like all remaining wriggle room has been removed but he needs to make sure. Dials are played with and the electric plug once again begins to pulse.
Inside his dark, sweaty prison the boy can feel the new ropes start to do their work. A new sensation as the ropes pull him down into the soft mattress. He can no longer lift his legs or his torso or even attempt to roll onto his side. Trapped on his back, his ability to move his body is totally gone, controlled by the man he can no longer see.
He lets out a soft whimper as he senses electrons once again beginning to flow. His sphincter begins to involuntarily expand and contract forcing the plug in and out, causing it to massage his prostate. At these lower levels the rhythmic pulsing is deeply pleasurable and other parts of his body begin to twitch in time with the beat.
As the level builds, the contractions get harder and faster and pleasure gradually morphs in to something more complex. The tightly bound boy begins to buck and twitch trying and failing to get away from the source of his troubles. The leather and ropes hold him tightly, doing their job well. His mind is totally focused on the sensation, his ears full of the sound of creaking leather and his own muffled cries. His nostrils pick up the scent of leather mixed with a more earthy aroma emanating from the man’s sweaty socks still draped across his chest. Positive and negative sensations battle each other for control of his body and mind.
The man stands back, watching the signs of this raging battle from afar. A battle he has set in motion and one in which he has control of both sides, able to play them off against each other. One hand absently strokes his growing erection whilst the other plays across the muscles of his chest, caressing his large nipples. The stern blue eyes fixed on the spasming, whimpering boy before him are thoughtful, calculating the next move.
He reaches out and turns the level back down to a more pleasurable setting for the boy. The writhing stops and the tone of the moans changes. He crouches down and puts a large hand firmly on the boy’s chest to steady himself before leaning in to whisper in the boy’s ear.
“Good boy. I enjoy having you strapped down to my bed. Encased in leather. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to see. I can do anything to you and there is nothing you can do to resist.”
One hand runs over the gag and blindfold, emphasising these words, as the other runs down the boy’s body and comes to rest over his crotch. Something stirs beneath the surface of the leather and rises to meet his hand. The man holds his hand still for a few moments feeling the leather rise and fall as the boy’s erection pulses beneath before taking his hand away.
“Looks like you’re still enjoying yourself too.”
The boy starts to nod his head in agreement but the nod quickly turns into a shake as his nose is enveloped by a moist piece of fabric and sweet, sour fumes invade his defenceless nostrils. He doesn’t need his eyes to know that one of his Daddy’s socks is now draped across his face. He can feel fingers pushing the ends of the sock under the straps of the muzzle so that it can’t be dislodge. With his mouth stuffed and sealed he is forced to breathe through the sock that has clearly spent far too long in the moist interior of his Daddy’s leather boot.
With his brain overloaded decoding the impulses flowing up his olfactory nerve the boy loses track of what else is going on. It’s only when he feels thick padding pressing down around his ears that he realises he has just lost control of another sense. The noise cancelling headphones clamp down around his ears creating a barrier against the vibrating air in the rest of the room leaving him only with the continuous roar of a distant avalanche. After a few seconds even that disappears as the active noise cancelling kicks in creating a deafening silence of destructive interference.
The sensory deprivation is complete. Sight, sound, taste, smell and touch are now completely dominated by his Daddy. He can barely move, he can’t cry for help, he has no idea what is going on in the world outside his own body. He is floating in an infinite sea of darkness and silence with only his thoughts for company. Electricity continues to throb through his hole and his erection continues to push against the leather, desperate for relief that will never come.
“I love you boy. Remember I’m right here beside you, watching over you, keeping you safe.” Somehow his deep voice is able to cut through the noise cancelling system, calm and reassuring as always. Silence returns briefly before a crescendo of white noise sweeps in to replace it.
The man runs his hand through his boy’s hair and then lifts up his head so he can pull a loose leather bag hood over his boy’s head, using a draw string to pull it closed around his neck but not before thrusting his other discarded sock inside. The boy’s transformation into a leather object is now complete.
The man lies down on the bed next to his boy and switches on the TV. He navigates to the sports channel where a game of rugby is just beginning, the timing couldn’t have been better. He absentmindedly dials up the settings on the electro plug and is rewarded by renewed struggling and moaning from the object next to him. A smile creeps across his lips and his hand drifts slowly downwards. He was going to enjoy the next few hours, especially that moment when the bondage becomes real and the boy realises that no amount of struggling and moaning can change that.
Deep in his sub space two images keep drifting across the boy’s mind - the stern, handsome face of his Daddy looking down at him and a leather gloved hand on a small, silver zip.
The man jumps up onto the bed and sits astride the chest of his tightly bound captive, forcing a burst of air from his boy’s nostrils. Totally naked now, his erection swings tantalisingly in front of him, just inches away from the boy’s face. A look of hunger and desire enters the boy’s eyes and he attempts to lift his head up to get closer to it.
“What’s the matter boy? Like what you see?”
The boy nods his head up and down, his eyes now pleading, a desperate groan attempting to force its way past fabric and tape.
“Too bad your mouth is full of my underwear. Does Daddy taste good?”
The boy nods his head again. The underwear has definitely absorbed some of his Daddy’s flavours but it is a pale imitation when compared to the real thing. He longs to worship the beautiful appendage before him, run his tongue around the head, swallow the whole thing down to the root. Bound and gagged as he is he can only look and imagine.
The man leans forward and his erection approaches the boy’s face. He takes it in hand and uses it like a paint brush to trace a pattern across the canvas before him, a slimy trail of pre-cum is left in its wake. He forces the boy’s head into his groin, burying the boy’s nose in his thick pubic bush, forcing smells of musk and sweat to fill the boy’s nostrils as his meaty balls rest on the boy’s tape covered chin.
Eventually the man pulls back and his face takes the place of his cock, their faces so close together that their noses touch. The man then proceeds to trace the same pattern as before only this time using his tongue as the paint brush. One slimy trail is replaced with another as the man’s smooth, wet tongue slips across the boy’s face. A final kiss on the boy’s nose and the painting is complete.
The boy is in heaven with so much attention being lavished upon him. He loves the deep, manly smell of his Daddy’s crotch and the sensation of his Daddy’s tongue working its slow way across his face is incredibly sensual. He is disappointed when the man finally pulls back until he sees him reach for one of the leather objects on the bed.
The man holds up a beautifully crafted leather muzzle. The heavily padded front section completely envelops the lower half of the boy’s face, hiding the tape gag completely but leaving his nose exposed. The collar is fastened snugly around his neck and the man then takes his time with the head straps, adjusting and readjusting until all the tensions are balanced evenly and the muzzle is comfortable and secure. Just for good measure a padlock is then added to each buckle, ensuring the muzzle can’t be removed without a key. A key that now hangs around the man’s neck.
Next the man picks up a padded leather blindfold. He takes one last long look into the deep brown eyes of his boy before putting the blindfold into place and buckling it tight, robbing the boy of his sight.
Plunged into darkness, the thick padding ensures not one photon of light can enter. Hollow spaces around his eyes means the boy can still open them but open or closed it makes no difference, all he can see is black. Now he will just have to imagine the naked form of his Daddy whilst his other senses go on high alert trying to work out what will happen next.
The man dismounts and surveys his helpless captive, leather starting to restrain and cover his head now as well as the rest of his body. Only the skin of his ears, nose and forehead remains exposed along with a mop of unruly hair. All in good time.
He begins to spin a web of rope with the leather cocoon at the centre. The rope wraps around the bed frame and through the large D rings on the sleepsack, slowly zig zagging up the left side of the bed before the same operation is repeated on the right side. Further adjustments are made to ensure everything is as tight as possible. It looks like all remaining wriggle room has been removed but he needs to make sure. Dials are played with and the electric plug once again begins to pulse.
Inside his dark, sweaty prison the boy can feel the new ropes start to do their work. A new sensation as the ropes pull him down into the soft mattress. He can no longer lift his legs or his torso or even attempt to roll onto his side. Trapped on his back, his ability to move his body is totally gone, controlled by the man he can no longer see.
He lets out a soft whimper as he senses electrons once again beginning to flow. His sphincter begins to involuntarily expand and contract forcing the plug in and out, causing it to massage his prostate. At these lower levels the rhythmic pulsing is deeply pleasurable and other parts of his body begin to twitch in time with the beat.
As the level builds, the contractions get harder and faster and pleasure gradually morphs in to something more complex. The tightly bound boy begins to buck and twitch trying and failing to get away from the source of his troubles. The leather and ropes hold him tightly, doing their job well. His mind is totally focused on the sensation, his ears full of the sound of creaking leather and his own muffled cries. His nostrils pick up the scent of leather mixed with a more earthy aroma emanating from the man’s sweaty socks still draped across his chest. Positive and negative sensations battle each other for control of his body and mind.
The man stands back, watching the signs of this raging battle from afar. A battle he has set in motion and one in which he has control of both sides, able to play them off against each other. One hand absently strokes his growing erection whilst the other plays across the muscles of his chest, caressing his large nipples. The stern blue eyes fixed on the spasming, whimpering boy before him are thoughtful, calculating the next move.
He reaches out and turns the level back down to a more pleasurable setting for the boy. The writhing stops and the tone of the moans changes. He crouches down and puts a large hand firmly on the boy’s chest to steady himself before leaning in to whisper in the boy’s ear.
“Good boy. I enjoy having you strapped down to my bed. Encased in leather. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to see. I can do anything to you and there is nothing you can do to resist.”
One hand runs over the gag and blindfold, emphasising these words, as the other runs down the boy’s body and comes to rest over his crotch. Something stirs beneath the surface of the leather and rises to meet his hand. The man holds his hand still for a few moments feeling the leather rise and fall as the boy’s erection pulses beneath before taking his hand away.
“Looks like you’re still enjoying yourself too.”
The boy starts to nod his head in agreement but the nod quickly turns into a shake as his nose is enveloped by a moist piece of fabric and sweet, sour fumes invade his defenceless nostrils. He doesn’t need his eyes to know that one of his Daddy’s socks is now draped across his face. He can feel fingers pushing the ends of the sock under the straps of the muzzle so that it can’t be dislodge. With his mouth stuffed and sealed he is forced to breathe through the sock that has clearly spent far too long in the moist interior of his Daddy’s leather boot.
With his brain overloaded decoding the impulses flowing up his olfactory nerve the boy loses track of what else is going on. It’s only when he feels thick padding pressing down around his ears that he realises he has just lost control of another sense. The noise cancelling headphones clamp down around his ears creating a barrier against the vibrating air in the rest of the room leaving him only with the continuous roar of a distant avalanche. After a few seconds even that disappears as the active noise cancelling kicks in creating a deafening silence of destructive interference.
The sensory deprivation is complete. Sight, sound, taste, smell and touch are now completely dominated by his Daddy. He can barely move, he can’t cry for help, he has no idea what is going on in the world outside his own body. He is floating in an infinite sea of darkness and silence with only his thoughts for company. Electricity continues to throb through his hole and his erection continues to push against the leather, desperate for relief that will never come.
“I love you boy. Remember I’m right here beside you, watching over you, keeping you safe.” Somehow his deep voice is able to cut through the noise cancelling system, calm and reassuring as always. Silence returns briefly before a crescendo of white noise sweeps in to replace it.
The man runs his hand through his boy’s hair and then lifts up his head so he can pull a loose leather bag hood over his boy’s head, using a draw string to pull it closed around his neck but not before thrusting his other discarded sock inside. The boy’s transformation into a leather object is now complete.
The man lies down on the bed next to his boy and switches on the TV. He navigates to the sports channel where a game of rugby is just beginning, the timing couldn’t have been better. He absentmindedly dials up the settings on the electro plug and is rewarded by renewed struggling and moaning from the object next to him. A smile creeps across his lips and his hand drifts slowly downwards. He was going to enjoy the next few hours, especially that moment when the bondage becomes real and the boy realises that no amount of struggling and moaning can change that.
Deep in his sub space two images keep drifting across the boy’s mind - the stern, handsome face of his Daddy looking down at him and a leather gloved hand on a small, silver zip.