Your Wish Fulfilled (M/M) - standalone one off (sub POV added 10/1)
Posted: Fri Sep 30, 2022 6:45 am
Inspired by [mention]Straitjacketed[/mention], here is my pale imitation of an homage. A one-off, not tied to anything else I've written, too!
------------------------------------------------------------
"Ok, boy. Extreme restraint like in those stories you sent me. No safeword. Six hours. Are you sure?"
You take a deep breath, run a nervous hand through your hair before responding. "Yes, Sir."
I admire your form as I pick up the roll of tape, tear off a strip. "Once this is on, no backing out. Timer starts when I'm done restraining you. Last chance. Are you sure?"
"Yes, Sir."
I place the tape over your eyes, smooth it. I let you stand there, fidgeting, while I deliberately select and collect the tools of your demise. You lick your lips multiple times, clearly nervous.
"Hands." You extend your arms and present your palms.
I pick up one of the metal devices. It looks like a flat hand with slightly splayed fingers. I put your hand on it and affix each finger to its metal equivalent with zip ties at each joint, turning it into more of a flipper. I cut the extra plastic off each tie, then repeat the procedure on the other hand.
You try to move your fingers. No chance. "Wow," you say.
I don't respond, but pick up the roll of tape again and wrap each hand fully in tape, pull a fingerless rubber glove over each, then tape the ends of the rubber gloves to your wrists.
"Leave those arms out," I command, then (to your evident surprise) oil your arms and useless hands up a little.
This is to better be able to slide on the rubber straitjacket. I can see you get excited now. I put both arms through the strap in front temporarily before moving to your back and closing the jacket up, yanking on each of the straps to pull it as tight as possible, then doing a second pass. Next come the crotch straps, spreading your cheeks some and allowing access to your privates. Finally, I fix the arms in position, giving them a second, then a third pass, then finally cinching the strap in front. Padlocks at each buckle complete the ensemble.
You're pursing your lips as you test the jacket; it does not budge.
"Open your mouth." One last nervous lick of the lips, then you comply.
I insert the gag; it's a large rubber device with inserts trapping the tongue and teeth. You can barely close your mouth around it - for now.
As you have negotiated, I pull a rubber swim cap over your hair to protect it from what is about to come. You haven't shaved despite my warnings; not my problem.
I tightly tie a strap under your chin and over your head to force your mouth closed, wipe your lips dry, then start taping from directly under the nose all the way under the chin, pulling the tape tight on each rotation. I move into the vertical, taping from under the chin over the swim cap, and continue until only your ear canals and nose are visible on your face.
I pinch the latter briefly shut to test the gag. As expected, you are already almost inaudible, but I am far from done.
I wrap a reinforced rubber posture collar round your neck and lock it, immobilizing your head.
Next comes the muzzle gag, which also includes a stiff collar. I strap it tightly over your taped face, then insert the nose hook and pull it taut as well, but leave the collar off for now. I think I hear faint protest when I push cotton balls up each nostril; they won't impede breathing, just provide an uncomfortable sensation.
I make sure you hear me padlock every buckle of the gag harness. I bet you're wondering why I haven't closed the other collar around your neck yet.
Before continuing with restraining your legs, I make you get down on your knees and gently push you over forward onto a waiting cushion. Kneeling between your legs, forcing them apart with my knees, I lube you up and insert a butt plug. It's the dreaded pear; I rotate the dial on its end and it opens inside you like a flower's petals, irremovable until I decide to be done. Ignoring your squirming, I padlock the dial in place.
I use clothesline to bind your feet at the ankles; from there, I make two loops around the center of your soles as well. I apply further bindings above and below the knees, making sure your erection - now glistening - remains accessible.
I carefully stand you back up. With the remainder of the clothesline, I tightly tie your entire body to a plank of wood, immobilizing you further, before laying you down on your back, plank under you.
Switching from clothesline to fishing line, I tie your big toes together, then loop around each toe, tying them all off to the rope around your soles individually.
I grab your erection, and start masturbating you. I can hear some very faint noises and see some futile struggling, which I again ignore.
"Oh, I'm not done tying you up. You know how the guys in the stories you sent me all reach their breaking point eventually? Once you've shot your load, you'll be riding that high for a few minutes, and then you'll come down, and everything will start to hurt and itch and pinch. And the six hours won't even have started!"
I know you're trying to struggle in earnest now. No chance. I mercilessly bring you to orgasm, removing my hand just before you come to deny you even that pleasure, then wipe off the mess.
Now the fun can really begin. I pull your testicles away from your body and tightly wind some cord around the exposed skin until they're neatly trapped a few centimeters away, then tie your penis to that lengthwise, starting at the base of the shaft to keep you erect once you get around to that again. It looks like a dick sandwich when I'm done, your cockhead just touching your balls. I give them a few flicks with my fingernail, then pull back your foreskin and wrap some fishing line around the neck of your glans and the frenulum before pulling it back around your cockhead and clamping it shut with a binder clip. It's time to slather the whole package in icy-hot, and then comes one of my favorite toys I never get to use on my own boy: a heavy, metal device shaped like an egg with an opening on one end. The other end has a hinge; flipping it open reveals blunt metal spikes. I position it around your genitals, then close and lock it; its weight will pull down on them while the spikes will provide some fun discomfort.
I insert two rubber foam plugs in your ears, then add a pair of hearing protection earmuffs to eliminate any other sounds that could reach you, taping them in place. I pull a closed leather hood over your head, yanking the straps tight in the back before locking it with another seven padlocks, one per pair of grommets, and fixing your head to the plank with some extra rope.
With some difficulty, I manage to get your immobile form into the prepared rubber sack. It closes around your neck with an adjustable gasket, and now I finally put the gag harness's collar to use, closing it tightly around the top of the sack and padlocking it. I connect the vacuum pump and - using the collar as a seal - empty it of air, further encasing you in yet another tight layer of rubber. I've coated the inside with itching powder, but am not sure it will reach your skin. No matter - the portions I've liberally sprinkled into the swim cap and straitjacket will.
Attaching rope to the rings at the top end of the plank, I hoist you into a vertical position, then lift you off the ground entirely.
You're probably incredulous that I use this opportunity to tightly wrap you neck to ankles in a thin chain, then do another full pass with several rolls of tape.
I pat the top of your head, hoping you'll get the message that your six hours start now. Just in case I'm unclear, I turn on the butt plug's vibration function via remote before settling in with a nice book and an even nicer view.
For you, it's going to be a long, long... six hours? Maybe. Not like you have a watch.
------------------------------------------------------------
"Ok, boy. Extreme restraint like in those stories you sent me. No safeword. Six hours. Are you sure?"
You take a deep breath, run a nervous hand through your hair before responding. "Yes, Sir."
I admire your form as I pick up the roll of tape, tear off a strip. "Once this is on, no backing out. Timer starts when I'm done restraining you. Last chance. Are you sure?"
"Yes, Sir."
I place the tape over your eyes, smooth it. I let you stand there, fidgeting, while I deliberately select and collect the tools of your demise. You lick your lips multiple times, clearly nervous.
"Hands." You extend your arms and present your palms.
I pick up one of the metal devices. It looks like a flat hand with slightly splayed fingers. I put your hand on it and affix each finger to its metal equivalent with zip ties at each joint, turning it into more of a flipper. I cut the extra plastic off each tie, then repeat the procedure on the other hand.
You try to move your fingers. No chance. "Wow," you say.
I don't respond, but pick up the roll of tape again and wrap each hand fully in tape, pull a fingerless rubber glove over each, then tape the ends of the rubber gloves to your wrists.
"Leave those arms out," I command, then (to your evident surprise) oil your arms and useless hands up a little.
This is to better be able to slide on the rubber straitjacket. I can see you get excited now. I put both arms through the strap in front temporarily before moving to your back and closing the jacket up, yanking on each of the straps to pull it as tight as possible, then doing a second pass. Next come the crotch straps, spreading your cheeks some and allowing access to your privates. Finally, I fix the arms in position, giving them a second, then a third pass, then finally cinching the strap in front. Padlocks at each buckle complete the ensemble.
You're pursing your lips as you test the jacket; it does not budge.
"Open your mouth." One last nervous lick of the lips, then you comply.
I insert the gag; it's a large rubber device with inserts trapping the tongue and teeth. You can barely close your mouth around it - for now.
As you have negotiated, I pull a rubber swim cap over your hair to protect it from what is about to come. You haven't shaved despite my warnings; not my problem.
I tightly tie a strap under your chin and over your head to force your mouth closed, wipe your lips dry, then start taping from directly under the nose all the way under the chin, pulling the tape tight on each rotation. I move into the vertical, taping from under the chin over the swim cap, and continue until only your ear canals and nose are visible on your face.
I pinch the latter briefly shut to test the gag. As expected, you are already almost inaudible, but I am far from done.
I wrap a reinforced rubber posture collar round your neck and lock it, immobilizing your head.
Next comes the muzzle gag, which also includes a stiff collar. I strap it tightly over your taped face, then insert the nose hook and pull it taut as well, but leave the collar off for now. I think I hear faint protest when I push cotton balls up each nostril; they won't impede breathing, just provide an uncomfortable sensation.
I make sure you hear me padlock every buckle of the gag harness. I bet you're wondering why I haven't closed the other collar around your neck yet.
Before continuing with restraining your legs, I make you get down on your knees and gently push you over forward onto a waiting cushion. Kneeling between your legs, forcing them apart with my knees, I lube you up and insert a butt plug. It's the dreaded pear; I rotate the dial on its end and it opens inside you like a flower's petals, irremovable until I decide to be done. Ignoring your squirming, I padlock the dial in place.
I use clothesline to bind your feet at the ankles; from there, I make two loops around the center of your soles as well. I apply further bindings above and below the knees, making sure your erection - now glistening - remains accessible.
I carefully stand you back up. With the remainder of the clothesline, I tightly tie your entire body to a plank of wood, immobilizing you further, before laying you down on your back, plank under you.
Switching from clothesline to fishing line, I tie your big toes together, then loop around each toe, tying them all off to the rope around your soles individually.
I grab your erection, and start masturbating you. I can hear some very faint noises and see some futile struggling, which I again ignore.
"Oh, I'm not done tying you up. You know how the guys in the stories you sent me all reach their breaking point eventually? Once you've shot your load, you'll be riding that high for a few minutes, and then you'll come down, and everything will start to hurt and itch and pinch. And the six hours won't even have started!"
I know you're trying to struggle in earnest now. No chance. I mercilessly bring you to orgasm, removing my hand just before you come to deny you even that pleasure, then wipe off the mess.
Now the fun can really begin. I pull your testicles away from your body and tightly wind some cord around the exposed skin until they're neatly trapped a few centimeters away, then tie your penis to that lengthwise, starting at the base of the shaft to keep you erect once you get around to that again. It looks like a dick sandwich when I'm done, your cockhead just touching your balls. I give them a few flicks with my fingernail, then pull back your foreskin and wrap some fishing line around the neck of your glans and the frenulum before pulling it back around your cockhead and clamping it shut with a binder clip. It's time to slather the whole package in icy-hot, and then comes one of my favorite toys I never get to use on my own boy: a heavy, metal device shaped like an egg with an opening on one end. The other end has a hinge; flipping it open reveals blunt metal spikes. I position it around your genitals, then close and lock it; its weight will pull down on them while the spikes will provide some fun discomfort.
I insert two rubber foam plugs in your ears, then add a pair of hearing protection earmuffs to eliminate any other sounds that could reach you, taping them in place. I pull a closed leather hood over your head, yanking the straps tight in the back before locking it with another seven padlocks, one per pair of grommets, and fixing your head to the plank with some extra rope.
With some difficulty, I manage to get your immobile form into the prepared rubber sack. It closes around your neck with an adjustable gasket, and now I finally put the gag harness's collar to use, closing it tightly around the top of the sack and padlocking it. I connect the vacuum pump and - using the collar as a seal - empty it of air, further encasing you in yet another tight layer of rubber. I've coated the inside with itching powder, but am not sure it will reach your skin. No matter - the portions I've liberally sprinkled into the swim cap and straitjacket will.
Attaching rope to the rings at the top end of the plank, I hoist you into a vertical position, then lift you off the ground entirely.
You're probably incredulous that I use this opportunity to tightly wrap you neck to ankles in a thin chain, then do another full pass with several rolls of tape.
I pat the top of your head, hoping you'll get the message that your six hours start now. Just in case I'm unclear, I turn on the butt plug's vibration function via remote before settling in with a nice book and an even nicer view.
For you, it's going to be a long, long... six hours? Maybe. Not like you have a watch.