Gromet's Plaza Bondage Stories
New Steel Manacles
by Roger
rog_wms@yahoo.com
© Copyright 2005 - Roger - Used by permission
Storycodes: MFF/m; D/s; bond; shackles; cons/reluct; X
Google translation
New Steel Manacles by Roger MFF/m; D/s; bond; shackles; cons/reluct; X
 

Well, it was what I expected, but even more than I expected!

I had some time off with pay - - nice, eh? - - so I decided it was time to fulfill a fantasy of going to various cities and participating in bondage nights or dungeon groups. But I first had to show them that I was not one of the "yuppie watchers" but fully into the scene. I had long dreamed of having a complete set of steel manacles and now was the time to act. I found someone a few hours away on the internet who made them, and rather than do it by mail, I wrote and asked if I could come over there and have him measure me and make the manacles while I was there. He said yes, and we made an appointment.

I wanted something a little different than his choices. The closures came in two styles; one was a couple of holes through the metal for a padlock. This is fine for security but not for a snug fit. The other was a screw closure, but now the fit is good but the security is not; anyone with an allen wrench (or even a screwdriver) could open it. I wanted the screw closure but with holes so that a padlock could be put on with the base of the lock covering the screw. That would be complete (and convincing) security!

I also wanted a ring in the middle of the wrist chain so that I could run a vertical chain from the collar to the ankle chain. 

When I arrived and we were inside his workshop, I stripped down to my favorite bondage outfit, a black turtleneck unitard. I also put on my own steel collar, which had the type of security I desired; no sense buying a collar when I had one. [After all, how many steel collars does one need?]

As he measured me, he told me that his family had no idea that this was part of his hobby; they thought he was only making decorative iron products for the home and yard. He finished the four manacles and fitted them on me. Perfect! Then he connected the two pairs with short lengths of chain, leaving the ring in the middle of the wrist chain as I wanted. He put them on me again and took another five-foot length of chain and locked one end to my collar and then ran it down through that wrist ring to the bottom, where he locked it.

"This is a good idea. This way you can adjust the wrist chain up and down before you lock it, or just leave it loose, since you can't escape anyway."

To illustrate his point, he removed the vertical chain, took off my wrist manacles and had me put my hands behind my back. He put the wrist manacles on again and reconnected the vertical chain; he remarked that the natural point for locking it was a half-dozen links lower than when the hands are in front. He put a lock through that link and snapped it shut.

At that point, there was a knock on the door, and when he answered it, his wife walked in. "What time do you want din . . ." and then she saw me. "Now we see what you are really doing. I suspected it all along."

And then she looked at me and said, "You wait right here. I'll be back."

Wait right there? And where was I going? She returned in a few minutes with a leash in her hand, commenting that the dog was inside and wouldn't be needing it for a while. She clipped it onto the ring on the front of my collar and told me to follow her. I did so with a lot of getting used to the ankle chains, let alone all the rattling sounds I made. The problem was that I was enjoying this so much that I was getting hard as a rock!

"My sister needs a love slave. It looks like you are already dressed in the right accessories for the job." 

Oh, shit, what have I gotten myself into? She led me to a woman who was sitting in a recliner.

"Well, look at you. And it looks as if you are enjoying being chained up and led around on a leash." 

While she was speaking, she stroked my cock and I exploded.

"My love slave was hurt in an auto accident and I need a temporary replacement. Are you interested? Not that I need your permission, considering all these chains you are wearing. And speaking of accidents, it looks like you had one."

I told her that I did not live locally and that I had a regular job.

"That's too bad. But at least you can serve me right now. And, by the way, my brother-in-law knows nothing about this, and until today we didn't know his little secret."

She went into another room and came back with a rubber full-head mask, with a gag inside and a dildo on the other side of the gag. She handed it to her sister while she held the ring on my collar with one hand and grabbed my crotch with the other. It was useless to resist. Dangerous, too. She had a good grip on my groin.

The gag popped into my mouth and the rest of the mask fit around my head and was then zipped up in back. Other than a couple of breathing holes for my nose, there were no openings. I was then pulled down to my knees and I felt fingers on the rings on either side of my collar pulling me forward. Then pressure on my gag as the dildo did its work. But I was not released when we finished. I was lifted up to my feet and then led to what must have been a bed and then laid down on my back. After the passage of time, I felt someone else on the bed and then pressure on my face and bouncing on the bed; she must have been riding the dildo. Finally I hear a louder groan than before and it was over.

I guess she was in no condition to lead me out because when I was in the other room and the mask was removed, it was the non-horny sister holding my leash. (On the other hand, I had no way of knowing if she might have been the first one.) She led me out to the workshop and left me to get my chains removed. The iron monger told me that he did not set me up; I told him I believed him. I was so excited as he removed the vertical chain that I got hard again. And as I thought how much I enjoyed the forced bondage, I had an idea - - I told him to switch my wrists from back to front and that I would drive home like that with all the manacles intact.

He made one suggestion, which I hadn't thought of. Maybe I should try going to the bathroom to make sure I could with my wrists shackled. I needed to go so I headed for their bathroom. He was right - - it was not as easy as I thought. Luckily, the zipper for this unitard was in front and I finally managed to work the unitard down to where my midsection was free. Just barely. If the zipper had been in the back, there was no way. I did also wash the stain out as best I could. 

I went one step further - - since I didn't have to be anywhere but home for the next few days, I told him to mail the keys to the padlocks to me! He said that he would mail one key the next day and the other key the following day. The drive home was almost uneventful. I had to get gas - - it was late at night - - and I was thankful for a pay-at-the-pump station - - except that as I was pumping, a carload of teenage girls drove up to the pump across the island. They loved the way I was dressed! One of them came over to check the security of my chains, and as she did, I got hard again. Their laughter made me go further and make another mess in my unitard. Which got even more laughter.

Being even later when I got home, there was nobody around to see me go from the parking lot to my first-floor apartment. I would be chained up for another two or three days, and even when the mail arrived, it would not be safe to get it until late at night. And, of course, with the ankle manacles in place, I could not remove my unitard.

It was a wonderful few days!

Roger 
 

07.04.05

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