More Than He Bargained For 2: The Doctor Knows Best

by Philber

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© Copyright 2013 - Philber - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; Solo-m; D/s; escort; bond; rope; gag; hogtie; hood; electro; tease; torment; straitjacket; mast; climax; cons/reluct; X

(story continues from )

Part 2: The Doctor Knows Best

Hans had not had a good night's sleep. Tanya, the escort he had booked for the night had tied him up tightly as per his request, and then things took an unwanted turn. Tanya informed him that, in her native Russia, she was actually a doctor in psychiatry, and so quite used to getting unruly or violent patients under control with proper use of restraints. That evening, she had used the ropes and straps that Hans had provided, but suggested that a straightjacket was a much better device for really long term, inescapable bondage.

And once she said that, she proceeded to demonstrate that it is the doctor, not the restrained patient, who decides what happens. Hans now found himself tied tightly and tethered to his bed while his beautiful partner slept. He didn't disturb her not only because he was gagged and hooded, but also because she had told him before going to sleep, that, if he did so, she would make his situation very uncomfortable indeed. As she had already done it earlier in the evening, with a murderous double hogtie (feet to waist and ass hook to top of hood), he had every reason to believe that she meant business. So he remained as quiet and motionless as he could, instead of his usual behavior of (topping from the bottom) and dictating to the escort he'd hired what she should do to please him.

But, as the same time, even though he was mad at her, he was getting horny again, even though he'd had this mind-blowing orgasm just a bit earlier. And that was how Hans' night was to be. Uncomfortable, with spells of broken, fitful sleep and periods of wait. And an almost continuous hard-on that he could do nothing about, that was leaving him especially frustrated considering the beautiful woman lying so close to him, and whose services were already paid for, but who had made herself so untouchable. The hardest part of the wait was not knowing what time it was, which the leather hood saw to. Was it the middle of the night, with another 6 hours or more to wait, or already well into the morning, and only a few tens of minutes? For a man like Hans, used to making decisions, and paying escorts was one way he could make decisions about sex without trouble, this was a new and unwelcome experience. Except that he was so turned on! What was wrong with him? What he'd seen up to now as a harmless fantasy was turning into something much more hard-core. Tanya had mentioned long-term bondage strapped in a straightjacket. Just thinking about it, and his tied up condition gave him ample time to do so, and his penis definitely approved.

Eventually, Tanya stirred. Hans, not taking her threats lightly, remained quiet, despite his urge to make sure she woke up fully and took care of him. She was waking up, but in no hurry to do so. She turned, stretched, relaxed, stretched again. By now, even though he couldn't see, Hans was sure she'd seen him and remembered why there was a bound and tethered man in her bed. Or rather, why she was in his bed. Hans felt her get real close. She cuddled him and whispered in his leather-covered ear: “How is my patient this morning? Rested? Still aware that I am the doctor, and that I know better what is good for him? If yes, make a fist dear patient!” Hans made a fist.

“Now yesterday night, you were quite rebellious, you need to learn that doctor knows best. If not, I just have to impose measures that will be as uncomfortable for you as they are unnecessary. Let's see how you react today, for example if I tell you that you need to wait until I prepare myself, which shouldn't take more than about one hour, and then take care of my day's e-mails, maybe another hour.”

Two hours like this? Hans couldn't believe it. He needed attention. He needed to be free. He had slept poorly, he was tired and grumpy. Being gagged and hooded for a whole night was very uncomfortable. Predictably he objected as loudly and violently as his restraints let him.

“Hmm, still uncooperative, are we? We'll have to do something about that. Have you ever been controlled by electricity, Hans? If not, it will be something new. Quite effective, let me tell you. Once patients understand that only full compliance separates them from having their balls fried, they tend to behave like true puppy dogs. Let' see if it works for you that way!”

A horrified Hans couldn't do anything to prevent Tanya from pulling out some equipment from her bag, and he felt her placing pads and clamps on his nipples, testicles and penis, which she connected to a power box and the mains. Contrary to his expectations, what the machine did to him was quite pleasurable; in a way that was new to him. Until a shock that seared his innards and to which he reacted with as violent a spasm as his tight bonds let him.

“See, dear Hans, what happens to patients of mine? The nice ones get treated nicely. The ones who do not behave are made to pay the price. So, where was I before you refused my instructions? Ah, yes. The hour I need to properly wake up, do my morning exercise, and get prepared for another beautiful day. And another hour for my e-mail and Adnoklacniki account, that is a sort of Russian Facebook. And, come to think of it, since you don't look like you are going to be pleasant company, some more time to go out and have myself  a nice breakfast in your city. Now you have a choice. Either you approve -immediately Hans felt the return of the previous pleasurable sensations-  or not! -and Hans was zapped again, even more painfully-. So, think carefully before you protest again, dear patient. Every protest earns you more time tied up, and more shocks. And if you think this cannot happen, and that you can extract revenge once you are untied, think again. All I need to do if I feel that you will be aggressive, is just to “forget” to come back from my breakfast, or come back, take what I want, and just “forget” to let you free. So what will it be Hans? Make a fist once if you accept, or don't if you don't. I don't care. Or actually, I do. Because, if you don't, I can do certain things to you, and then you'll agree anyhow. And I would like to see how you react, you who are so used to having everything your way, to having your cock and balls gradually fried.”

Hans immediately made a fist, which signaled acceptance, or more accurately, capitulation.

“Ah, I am disappointed, Hans. I looked forward to breaking your spirit, but now, it is not to be. Ah well... OK, here is the deal. Either you want to be set free now, and I leave and will not see you again, or you submit to my will, and my electrical machine will take care to keep you “interested” while I take care of myself. Oh, and I know you want to ask if “interested” is meant in a pleasing or in a painful way. Well, sorry, but because of your gag you can't ask, and I don't answer unasked questions. So you will have to trust me, I guess. That is what submission is about. So, if you want me to set you free and leave, make a fist...”

Hans had to think quickly. Of course, he wanted to be set free. And he wanted to regain control over what happened to him. But he also realized that he had never been so excited, so turned on, so alive as when Tanya had decided to exert full control over him. So he made up his mind. He'd already lived through a full night, he could stick it out a bit longer... his hand remained open...

“Good, at last some hope that the patient will trust the good doctor Tanya and do what she tells him to. So, let's get you prepared for the next phase! But dear Hans, think twice before your resist again. Because then I will be merciless. I don't like time wasters!”

With these ominous words, she turned him on his stomach, and once again tied a rope to his feet, which, this time, she tied straight to the D-Ring on his hood. She tightened, and Hans, his back now arched, protested audibly, if anguished grunts into his gag and hood can be called a protest. She tightened some more. His back arched some more. His grunts turned to growls. She tightened some more. His back became spectacularly arched. His growls turned to whimpers. She tied off the rope, leaving him totally disbelieving that she would leave him like this for more than two hours. How could she??? Even a few seconds like this were painful, let alone minutes, so hours????

“Now, dear patient, another choice. That shows you how considerate your good doctor is. During your morning meditation, you can either choose the painful stimulation, or the pleasurable one. My strong advice is that you choose the painful one, and, believe me, I know what I am talking about. But choose as you will. If you wish to follow my advice, make a fist!”

Hans did not make a fist. Was Tanya nuts? How could she think he would choose pain over pleasure, you would have to be a crazy masochist to do that, or a slave, and he was neither. His choice was obvious.

“So, no fist, so you choose the pleasurable option. How predictable, how disappointing! You obviously do not trust me. Well, if that is your choice, let it be!”

With these words, Tanya rolled Hans on his side, and roped her hogtied “patient” to the bed so that he could no longer roll onto his front or back. He was totally immobilized on his side in this arched position until she set him free. That is when he felt the pleasure waves she had promised.

“Well, that is it, dear Hans! Pleasure waves you want, and that is what you get. The only problem is, I know what this will do to you, and you do not yet. I warned you to follow my advice, and you disregarded it and thought you knew better. Because I told you it would be 2 ½ hours before I took care of you, and, believe me, well before that you will be screaming into your gag and begging me to switch your e-stim to pain. Unfortunately for you, I will not be there to listen and be swayed by your distress. As soon as I am ready I will find a nice cafe, where I can enjoy a good latte, pull out my iPad and do my e-mails over wi-fi. Well, now that you are all set, I will go to the bathroom, and make myself beautiful once more. Enjoy yourself, dear Hans!”

Hans had no idea what she was talking about. He was feeling all kinds of pleasurable sensations, and that was almost enough to make him forget how painful the hogtie was, especially after a long night of strict bondage.

As she left him to take care of herself, Hans felt the hard-on that he had experienced for the whole night intensify,and he looked forward to release. Maybe he would enjoy the same kind of super-intense orgasm that had illuminated last night's session with Tanya despite her severe “treatments”. It felt good, it felt very good. He wondered if it didn't even feel better than a competent partner. God he was going to have a great orgasm!

Hans felt the pleasures waves washing over him, it was going to be so good. Except, after a few minutes of basking in this pleasure, he realized his urge was unsatisfied, as though the machine refused to speed up and match his need, as though he could put the glass to his lips, but not tilt it back and drink.

As each minute passed, Hans was getting more frustrated. His cock, stimulated by electricity demanded release, but Tanya had set it just enough for this, but not for any orgasm to satisfy him. So what could he do? He tried to grind his turgid organ into something to generate the friction that would get him over the edge. That is when he understood why the “good doctor” as she called herself, had tied him on his side. Because of the hogtie, he couldn't lie on his back, and, on his front, he could have orgasmed all too easily. But tethered as he was to both sides of the bed, there was nothing that his cock could touch. His hands, tied to his sides, were too far. Not by much, by try as he could, they couldn't make contact with his aching cock. He was humping air, and the ropes immobilizing him were too well tied to grant him any slack. He was close to the biggest orgasm I his life, but only close, and, suddenly, he understood how mean Tanya had been, and why she suggested the pain rather than the pleasure.

Hans tried to break his bonds. He wanted an orgasm worse than ever in his life. But Tanya had done her work well. His hands and arms remained tied to his sides, his legs together, and he could not budge from his position on his side. The fact that he was gagged and hooded didn't help, especially with his head tilted back by the hogtie. Hans groaned, bucked, squirmed until he ran of air, the gag and hood reducing his air intake, but he couldn't care. He wanted to cum, and cum he would, whatever it took. Unfortunately, bondage's rule n°1 is that properly applied restraints are more effective that the bondee's efforts to free himself, and he remained tied, on the verge of orgasm, tremendously frustrated. And all the while, the stimulation continued mercilessly, supplemented by Hans' efforts to release himself from the bondage he craved.

Then it struck him. It was, at best, ten minutes since Tanya had left the room to prepare herself. Ten minutes! And she said she would be gone for more than two hours?  There was no way he could last two hours like this. But she said she would be in the bathroom. How could she be so close and not realize what she had done to him?

It was then, when he was suffering from a level of frustration that he didn't even know existed, and from commensurate fury towards his tormentor, that suddenly the e-stim's intensity increased. Surprised, Hans lost his concentration for a split second, time enough for him to feel hands squeezing his desperately engorged, aching penis, and his already painful balls. He groaned and squirmed, with no effect other than to increase her pressure on his organs, blinding him with pain. Hans was drowning, lost in this sea of contradictory over-stimulation, out of air, out of anything but the burning desire for him to cum, and the desperate want for this to end before he died. Irresistibly, he exploded in one gigantic orgasm that rocked him like never before.

When he recovered from the mind-blowing flash that had been his orgasm, Hans felt Tanya set him free, and she cuddled against him. God, he felt good! He didn't know whether he loved or hated that woman! Instantly, he knew he had to see her again. He was hooked, addicted!

“So, Hans, want Doctor Tanya to take care of you again? You know, you are far from cured, and you have much progress to make, and the longer the session, the better it gets. Unfortunately, my fee is not reimbursed by social security, or not yet, so, in light of that, 2 full days would not cost you four times as much as a 12-hour night. Think about it, and let me know.”

Part 3

Hans had never had sex like that. Beautiful Tanya had taken him on roller coaster rides, not once but twice, that were much more intense than he would ever had imagined. Intense pain, intense fear, intense powerlessness. But also oh-so-intense pleasure! Not once, but twice, too. Hans was determined to repeat this experience. Tanya, the Russian psychiatrist turned escort was more than happy to oblige. She had much rather tie up Hans than have sex with men who tried to cram as much of it in one-hour sessions as possible.

So she was happy to give Hans her personal e-mail and to suggest that their next meeting should be both long, and private, meaning not organized through her escort agency. That meant that Hans would have to provide the invitation and plane ticket that was a pre-requisite for her to get a visa. However, as she would no longer need to give 50% of what Hans paid to her agency, the total cost would still be lower than previously. She teased that it would actually get lower on a per-day basis as the meeting got longer. But Hans also needed to factor in some money for “toys” that she would bring, including a real straightjacket, all of which, she promised, he would find “interesting”. Hans was no longer thinking carefully, his dick was in charge. His only thought was “Wow! If one night was so intense, how much more can he experience in a 2-day, no, 3-day session? And why not 4 or 5 days?”

The money was not an issue, as what, to him, was affordable meant a year's doctor's salary for Tanya. So they settled on 4 days, including a week-end and a holiday. How soon could Tanya swing it? Well, it would take Hans a few days to get her the money, which he would send by Western Union, then the invitation for the visa, via DHL, as regular mail was unreliable in Russia, and mailboxes were often broken into to steal whatever looked foreign, and thus promising. As for work, Tanya had no problem. Her boss would be happy to overlook her absence if she slipped him $50. He had to make ends meet as well, and could hardly qualify for Tanya's “other work”. He would also be happy to let her take whatever she fancied from the hospital supplies at cost plus a commission, which in Hans' world, was ridiculously cheap. No, the only delay would be in getting the visa, which would take around one month. And, as soon as she had it, she would confirm her plane ticket.

Hans suddenly had doubts about sending her the money in advance. After all, she was a hooker, right? Was he really going to trust her to come once he'd sent her a sizable sum? Suddenly he saw how ridiculous this question was, and laughed out loud. Just one hour ago, he had trusted Tanya with his life, as he lay totally helpless and it had been in her power to do anything she wished to him. Or nothing. And now he was about to trust her with 4 days of his life when she could again do as she wished because a straightjacket would keep him as obedient as she wanted. So he agreed to her terms, and they parted with the promise to meet again soon.

Hans was so fascinated with what had just happened and so drawn to what would happen that he kept his part of the bargain as quickly as he could. Just thinking about it, and looking at her pictures on the agency website made him hard. He also began to bone up on straightjacket bondage, and saw that many considered it the most comfortable solution for really long term bondage, like overnight; But he did not see any literature or stories for a 4-day straightjacket session. Obviously she wasn't going to keep him in bondage for 4 days. That would be crazy, right?

Eventually, the month came and went, Tanya advised him that she had gotten her visa without trouble, because, as she put it, “as a doctor, with a job, she had a profile that didn't raise red flags”, and she confirmed her plane ticket. Hans offered to pick her up at the airport, and was surprised to read her response that he would receive other instructions.

Hans began to feel that that “he had been had”. Why would she not want him to pick her up at the airport, which would save her a cab fare, as she did not feel safe in public transport, a very common feeling among Russian girls? But, on the day he was going to write her a nasty e-mail, he got one from her, instructing to expect a package from Russia, “that was too large and heavy for her to carry”. Sure enough, DHL showed up with a large carton marked “hospital supplies”. He paid for shipment, but, despite his intense curiosity, did not open it, because she had instructed him to do so only one hour before she was due to arrive, on penalty of her canceling the session. Was it another trick?

So, as instructed, on the Friday of her arrival, he returned home early from work, having eaten lightly and hydrated well, but without alcohol to relieve the butterflies in his stomach. He showered, and, as per her e-mail, opened the mysterious package she had shipped him. It contained multiple items, but he had been ordered to only remove the top one, and informed that, should he contravene this, she would notice and severe punishment would ensue, as this would show that he did not trust Doctor Tanya. Predictably, on top lay the straightjacket. It was not white, like the Posey or Humane Restraint ones he'd found on the Net, but off-green, and, also unlike US designs, had a collar. It was also obviously not new, neither as stiff nor as heavy as he'd been led to expect from his readings. And it had a couple of curious “tails” hanging from the body of the jacket. Though he didn't read Russian, Hans understood with the pictures that the “tails” were to attach the ankles -his ankles actually- to the device.

Tanya wrote that she had tied the jacket  (it laced closed rather than strapped, like US designs) loosely enough, and left the collar open,  that he could don it by himself. Before he did this, he was to gag himself, plug his ears and blindfold himself, and do it tightly or face the consequences. Then he should go to the door, which he should leave open so that she could enter without his help, turn his back to it, don the jacket, squat on his haunches, attach the tails to his ankles despite his hands being inside the sleeves, and then thread his arms through the front and side loops, in the standard straightjacket position. He was instructed to lie on his front, his as yet unbound arms hugging his torso. Such was the end of the instruction note.

Hans felt beyond ridiculous. He was supposed to tie himself up and leave the door open, for anyone to come in? What if it wasn't Tanya? What if her plane was late, which was not uncommon, of if she had trouble getting a cab, or if there was a traffic jam? How long was he going to wait for her? Besides, with the blindfold on, he wouldn't know what time it would be, and when he should consider this ridiculous charade over.

But then, he had been waiting for too long, had fantasized too much about this dream meeting, with the gorgeous Russian beauty who knew how to push his buttons so much better than he ever imagined. And who had established who was boss. So he submitted to her will, and followed her instructions. The door. The earplugs. The gag and the blindfold, buckled tight. The straightjacket, which he just managed to slip into. The ankle tails, which he put on tightly. The arms and sleeves through the front and side loops, and around his chest. Then onto the floor. And prepared for the one-hour-long wait. At least one hour, if all went according to plan, which it rarely does on international travel. And if not, he would just be a front contender for “idiot-of-the year”.

As he was thinking along those lines, and trying to find a more comfortable position, to avoid his arms pushing into his chest and constricting his breathing, he heard noise behind him, felt a rush of “something”, cold air on his bare legs, and, before he could react to this totally unexpected information, there was somebody sitting on his back, pinning him to the floor and his arms under his chest. Acting on instinct he tried to turn around and face his attacker, but couldn't, not having the use of his arms. And before he could recover that, he felt them pulled tightly behind him. He pulled back, trying to get them loose, only to realize that whoever was sitting on his back had lost no time in lacing the two sleeves to one another, and his arms were no longer his to use.

He was now well and truly straightjacketed. But his attacker wasn't done. Now that he no longer had the use of his arms, Hans was helpless in preventing the lace at the back of the jacket from being pulled tight, until the straightjacket gripped his whole torso very firmly from neck to pelvis. The high collar was closed on his throat, snugly but really tightly.

Hans was desperately trying to get free, the attack having nothing to do with the planned roleplay with Tanya. But the lack of eyesight, hearing and the use of his arms was too much for him to have any chance.  The gag also prevented him from crying out for help, and restricted his breathing which further broke his resistance. It had barely lasted a minute, and he was well and truly hogtied! What the hell had happened to him???

Hans was in shock, having been assaulted well before Tanya had any hope of getting there, and she was on a plane ticket which he had bought and which couldn't be modified. On the plus side, however, it could hardly be an ordinary break-in. First, how would anyone know he had left the door unlocked? Then how many common burglars would expect to find unsuspecting victims in a straightjacket on the floor of their homes, and instantly react to this by effectively lacing them tightly into the unforgiving device, all this without missing a beat or making a sound? So what was happening? Had Tanya decided to cunningly introduce yet more unexpected circumstances into their “play”? He would soon find out, wouldn't he?

Except that, as he expected the next phase to unfold, nothing happened. No sound, no movement, at least as much as he could be aware of in his earplugged, blindfolded state. Nothing. As  though the attack had been a figment of his overworked imagination. Or had it been? Not if his forced immobility was anything to go by. Dreams and nightmares don't result in one waking up hogtied, right? But being straightjacketed and hogtied in one's own home by an unknown attacker, without anyone apparently there to take up where the attack left off, that is definitely as close to a nightmare as they come.

By now Hans had every reason to believe that he was alone. Alone and lost, because he had no idea what could have happened. Was it Tanya? How could it be anyone other than Tanya? But then how could it be her, a full hour before she was supposed to arrive? Hans decided that nothing said that he couldn't free himself. Actually, wouldn't it be sweet if he freed himself, and then Tanya showed up?

Hans began to struggle. After all, Houdini had managed many escapes from straightjackets, so why not him? Besides, Russian quality might not be that effective, and the jacket wasn't new. He rolled on his side and pulled on his arms. They weren't held desperately tightly behind his back, so he found he could move his forearms quite a bit, until his wrists almost slipped past the center loop. Good, so it wouldn't be that difficult to get out of it, after all!

But Hans found out that arm mobility doesn't help getting out of a straightjacket. Yes, he could move his forearms, but to what effect? His hands could still grip nothing. He tried getting hold of a knot, either at the end of a sleeve, or behind his back, and found that he couldn't. He cursed himself for not having examined the straightjacket in detail  while he could have. And now, hogtied and blindfolded, there was nothing he could do to see what he was doing, or should be doing.

Having failed at opening his way to freedom, Hans tried brute force. The straightjacket hadn't looked that heavy and strong when he handled it and donned it. He inflated his chest, and pulled on both arms with all his might. To no  result at all. Not all Russian products were low quality, apparently. That was when Hans remembered how many political opponents had been locked up in insane asylums at the time of the Soviet Union, and how straightjackets were used in the infamous gulag according the Solzhenitsyn. With that much use, it was obvious that the straightjackets had been tested all the way to total effectiveness.

That is what he found when trying to get the straightjacket off his back. The center and side loops kept his arms where they were intended to be, and the tails connected to his ankles prevented the jacked from being lifted over Hans' torso. If he couldn't slip it off, could he get his arms out? All the more so as he could move them inside his sleeves. He pulled his arm inside the sleeve, but soon his elbow got stuck, and try as he might he couldn't raise it enough; The Russian design, with a tight fit at the top, ending with a collar, was much closer-fitting than the Posey or Humane Restraints, and it soon dashed any hopes Hans entertained that he could get his arms out like Houdini. He was well and truly helpless.

How crazy is that, to be straitjacketed in one's home, by an unknown attacker taking advantage of one's own plans, and then abandoned like a sack of potatoes, helpless and alone, a hogtie preventing any escape, a blindfold blocking out any sight of what could help getting out of this situation, a gag muffling any cry for help into ineffectiveness?

That is when Hans noticed that he was hard....


To be continued...

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