"It's a great morning for a bondage meeting!" I said to myself as I drove along a desolate two-lane highway toward a small town about two hours away from the city where I live. But on a more serious note, I just hoped that this new acquaintance would show up… and turn out to be what he had led me to understand that he was. My mind tended to wander as I drove; I admit that I do sometimes get "lost in thought" (you know--unfamiliar territory and all that).
I am an enthusiast for bondage with other guys. Nothing painful or extreme, just the adventure of tying another guy up and the sensation and exciting feeling that it stirs inside me when I take control of another guy in this way. And sometimes, out of fairness, giving up control to another guy by allowing him to turn the tables and tie me up. I am not gay, but am well aware that bondage is sometimes associated with that lifestyle. I wondered if the guy that I was meeting--for the first time, I might add--was gay or just a bondage enthusiast like myself. I might find out soon, or then again, remain in the unknown.
Rod and I had met on a male bondage site via the computer. We shared messages and got acquainted, and later shared phone numbers and appropriate times to call and converse in person. He told me that he traveled a lot for his salesman job--mostly in five states, one of which was my home state. We remained in contact for about four months, and finally he informed me that he would be coming on a business trip to a large city in my state, and would gladly detour for a couple of hours if I was willing to split the distance with him. It sounded great, and would only involve a two-hour drive for me, and for him. Besides, I had a fair amount of vacation leave that I had to use up or lose, so a day off would be welcome.
Since both Rod and I like to take control of another guy, we planned a four hour meeting to begin around midday. We would take turns: one of us would tie the other up for a couple of hours, then we would switch places. It was agreed that we would avoid extremes, pain, and sexual gratification at the other's expense--but apart from using those loose parameters, no other detail of what to avoid was discussed. Big mistake--I was to find out later!
I was going over one of our latest telephone conversations in my mind as I drove. Rod's voice was deep, and mysterious, and just made for a radio. He sounded like his voice alone would melt the heart of any female within listening distance. "Jake," he had said to me as we were making final plans for the meeting, "I am the guest... as you are aware. That said, don't you agree that I should start and tie you up first?"
"What the heck," I replied, "one of us has to submit first. It may as well be me."
"And I can do whatever I want to you... right?" he questioned.
"Remember," I responded, "nothing extreme, no pain, nothing sexual."
A long, drawn out laugh followed as I listened. "Right," he said, and I knew he was smiling as he said it.
Since I was the "host", I was able to rent a room at a certain motel, with the explanation that an interview was going to take place and privacy was essential. Once I had the key, I would enter the room, and wait for him. I had previously emailed a picture of myself to him, but for a reason supported by a host of excuses, he could not return the favor. All I knew about him was that he was a wrestler and a gymnast in his high school, and had kept himself in excellent physical shape since then. Ordinarily, that small amount of detail would have caused me to throw up a distress flag, but all his excuses seemed valid, and I accepted them.
Another small matter entered my uncharted thought territory as I drove: I had to let him know what color and model of car I was driving, so he could watch for me. He would watch for me and come into the room after me, so I would not have similar information about him. Why hadn't I thought about that before? Should I even be concerned? Oh well. Life's a riddle at times.
I arrived at the small town and easily found the motel. I checked in, gave my name as the one who had called about booking a room at midday for a confidential interview, and left the office with the key to a "private room". I drove to the room (just behind the main office--so much for real privacy) and parked my car. As the host, it was left for me to bring whatever bondage items would be used. At least my mind had not been clouded in that regard--I had just a box of ropes cut in various lengths, some large cloth handkerchiefs (bandannas actually) of various colors, and a roll of duct tape: basics, but nothing fancy--as per Rod's and my agreement. I pulled the box from the trunk, and looked around at the few cars in the central parking lot; all the cars appeared empty. I unlocked the door, and entered the room. A typical motel room with two beds, a writing table and chair, television, and a well hidden bathroom.
I sat down on one of the beds. Within two minutes a solid knock came at the door. That was quick!
I opened the door, and a well-built man about my height brushed past me into the room. "Greetings Jake," he said in a deep voice that I instantly recognized from our telephone conversations. He stood with his back to me for a moment as he looked about the room, then turned to face me. He was dressed in dark slacks and a dull-gold dress shirt that did little to hide his broad shoulders and narrow waist. And, he was wearing a skin colored ski mask that hid everything except his dark eyes and his mouth.
My mouth fell open involuntarily, and I stammered a questioning, "Rod?"
"It's me," he replied. "Good to finally meet you!"
His eyes had a slight twinkle as he saw the surprised expression on my face. "Oh, the mask!" he finally said. "Well I am a man of surprises, Jake." (This was something I would more fully understand and agree with in a short time.) "But since I am going to tie you up and take control of you first, I don't want you to see my face until later. I hope that is okay, but I need to keep my face hidden for a while longer--at least until you take control of me."
I just gave a small nod and answered, "Okay."
"Now, shut the door and lock it, then come over here by the bed," he ordered in a deep, but not condescending voice.
I shut the door, secured the lock (forgetting the dead bolt), and moved to the location where he was pointing.
He began to walk around me slowly, looking me over from head to foot. "Nice," he said, "very nice. You keep yourself in good shape, Jake. We only have a few hours, and we have gotten acquainted by email and phone, so lets get started! Are the ropes in the box?" he asked.
I closed my eyes and nodded. It was sort of strange, but he was right: we did have only a few hours to meet.
I heard him pull the flaps of the box open, and opened my eyes. I watched as he dumped the contents out on the writing desk. He picked up a length of rope with one hand and flapped it against the palm of his other hand a few times as he spoke. "I've seen your picture Jake, but it was just from the shoulders up--and they were covered. I want to see more. Take off the shirt," he ordered.
I unbuttoned my shirt and let it slide down my arms, catching it and tossing it on the floor by the side of the bed. I thought I saw the lower part of the ski mask twitch, and observed that he was smiling. 'Very nice," he repeated again. "I have wrestled guys who were in much worse shape than you, but they did have considerably less hair on their chest. All the more fun... right?" The way he asked that, I wondered if he was talking about past wrestling bouts or my chest hair.
"From this point," he said, emphasizing the importance of his words with a pointing finger, "until you take control of me in a couple of hours, you will speak only when I tell you to speak. Understand?" I nodded my reply.
Still carrying the rope, he began to walk in circles around me again. "Lock your fingers behind your head," Rod demanded with his deep voice. I raised my hands and interlocked my fingers behind my head as ordered. Rod stood directly in front of me, and I saw the bottom of the ski mask twitch again as he smiled. "Nothing like the sight of a torso being stretched," he said. "There will be more of that later, but stretched in a different way." This guy really liked to talk in riddles!
"Move over to the foot of the bed, and stand with your back to me," Rod ordered. I did, and he stood behind me. "Now drop your hands and put them behind your back." Then he added with a sinister laugh, "You won't be seeing your hands again for a couple of hours."
I could feel the rope that he had been carrying as he wound it around and between my wrists, binding them together--not really tight, but definitely inescapable. Once my hands were tied, he took me by the shoulder and twisted me in a half circle, pushing me down onto the bed at the same time. I landed on my side laying on the mattress, but when the twisting motion was completed, I found myself laying on my back on top of my bound hands, my feet still on the floor, my knees bent so my lower legs were hanging over the bottom of the bed.
It all happened without warning and so quickly that I was caught totally off guard. Rod wasted no time, leaning over me and unfastening my trousers, which he then pulled halfway down my thighs--along with my underwear. I was still in recovery mode as he lifted one foot and pulled off my shoe, then lifted the other foot and took off my other shoe. He proceeded to pull my trousers down to my ankles, then off completely, almost pulling me off the bed in the process. I was now wearing nothing but my socks, and those were quickly removed as well.
Rod stood up and rested his hands on his hips as he looked down at me. "Now I have the complete picture," he said in a some what victorious tone. "And Jake, I do like what I see!" As he brushed my clothes off to the side with his foot, he remarked, "You won't be seeing your clothes again either for a couple of hours."
With what had happened so far in our meeting, I really did not dare say anything. My face was probably a darker shade of red, but somehow, the feeling I had was more a flash of excitement than anything else. And much as I hate to admit it, it was evident by the erection that I was now displaying.
Rod grabbed me under my arms and pulled me higher on the bed so my head was now resting on the pillows. He reached into the pile of ropes and pulled another length out, then proceeded to tie my feet together. Reaching for another rope, and pulling the desk chair to the side of the bed, Rod then sat down and just relaxed. As I watched him, he just sat and looked at me, laying tied up on the bed. Several minutes later, he looked me in the eyes. "Jake," he said, "I am going to give you permission to speak. But you can only say numbers. You are going to count the number of times I strike you with this rope."
My eyebrows shot higher up on my forehead, and I opened my mouth to protest. But before I had a chance, he whipped me on the upper thighs just below my obvious erection. Then he hit me again on my stomach just above my navel. "Two," I said through clenched teeth. This went on for awhile, with intermittent breaks between each strike of the rope. Finally, we reached the magic number of twenty, and there were that many pink welts in various locations on the front of my body.
Somehow I endured it, knowing that my chance to tie him up was approaching. I had envisioned in my mind many times since we had started planning for this meeting just how I would tie him up when my turn came. But now, I was seriously considering scraping all that and doing to him exactly what he was doing to me. Getting him naked, using a rope whip: I was making mental notes of everything he was doing to me.
Rod put the rope down, then rolled me over onto my stomach. "Squirm down to the bottom of the bed, Jake," he ordered. "I want you kneeling at the foot of the bed and your chest resting on the bed so you are bent over." It wasn't hard to guess what was coming next. I took my time squirming down to the foot of the bed, pretending it was a difficult maneuver when tied up. Finally he took my feet and pulled me the rest of the way, then positioned me just as he had wanted.
"Start over with the counting, Jake," he demanded. I did. Most of the whipping took place on my exposed butt cheeks or my upper legs, but occasionally Rod would lift my tied hands into the air and land a blow on my lower back as I knelt at the foot of the bed. The count went to twenty-five, then the whipping stopped.
In all honesty, the stinging from the rope whipping was not severe. The first blow on my upper thighs while I was laying down was a total surprise, and I had not braced for the impact. It was by far the worst--the rest were uncomfortable, but not extreme.
Once I had said the number twenty-five out loud, Rod lay the rope next to me on the bed and sat down in the chair. He lightly rubbed a few of the pink stripes on my butt, then spoke, "You handled that very well, Jake. And you follow instructions very well." Then standing up from the chair, he gave another command, "Stand up and keep your back to me, Jake. It's time to tie you up a different way."
He assisted me as I tried to stand--not an easy task with my feet tied together, and my hands still tied behind my back. I stood at the foot of the bed, and waited as Rod untied my hands, then rubbed the rope marks on my wrists slightly.
"Keep your hands behind your back," he told me, then took the rope he had been using to whip me from the bed. I saw him reach into the pile and pull out a couple of bandannas also. He soon reached around and pressed a folded bandanna into my mouth, stuffing it in completely.The second bandanna was soon folded into a strip and tied around my mouth to hold the first one in place. It was a very effective gag. "That's just a precaution," he told me with a slight laugh, and I wondered just what he meant by that. I didn't have to wonder very long.
I was holding my hands together behind my back and felt him pull a circle of rope over my hands and up my forearms. Rod slid the circle of rope up my arms until it was just below my elbows. I felt one of Rod's arms slide between my back and my arms, then using his body for leverage, Rod bent his arm and pulled my elbows together. Ordinarily, my arms should not have been able to be pulled so close, and it felt like one or both of my arms had been pulled from their sockets. He quickly pulled the rope tight (having tied a slip knot in one end beforehand), and quickly added several more coils around my arms, basically welding my arms together just below the elbows.
It all happened so abruptly--and painfully--that I shouted into the gag. No sound came out. Any major pain had now subsided for the most part (maybe I was in shock which tends to dull pain--I can't be sure). Rod hummed to himself as he knotted the rope, then wrapped it around my lower arms moving down to my wrists. He tied my wrists together with several coils, then cinched the rope by wrapping it between my wrists as well, after which he wrapped the rope around my lower arms as he moved back up to my elbows where it was used to cinch the coils wrapped around them and finally knotted. All the knots were at the level of my elbows, and the ropes on my arms were so tight that there was no way to get free on my own.
My shoulders were pulled back, and my chest was stretched to the point that I felt that any struggling on my part would cause the skin that covered my sternum to split wide open. Up to that point, I had never been tied so tightly. I hoped that this was what Rod meant when he said earlier that my torso would be stretched in a different way. Involuntarily, my erection returned. I kept thinking to myself that it is all okay--my turn to tie him up will be coming along soon. I concentrated on the word "soon" over and over.
Rod ordered me to lean forward, and assisted me to a facedown position on the bed. "Are you okay," he asked. I closed my eyes and gave a slight nod. "Great!" he responded in a triumphant manner. He untied the rope from my feet, then quickly selected a longer rope from the pile which he used to tie my feet together once again. There was a long strand remaining, which he threaded through the ropes binding my wrists. He gave a quick, powerful pull and before I had time to think about what was happening, my feet were securely hogtied to my hands--so tightly that my heels were nestled in the palms of my hands. He wound the rope multiple times between my hands and feet, knotting it each time so there were several knots to deal with. The remaining end of the hogtie rope was pulled up and knotted to the ropes that were causing my elbows to touch. Any knot within reach of my fingers was useless to set me free.
Rod reached into the box and pulled out the roll of duct tape--it made a very effective blindfold for Rod to put on me. He made use of the duct tape for that purpose after he had rolled me onto my side. (He probably knew that hogtied as tight as I was, I could not do it by myself if he simply ordered me to roll over.) I heard the squeak of the chair as Rod sat down and just looked at me for... I don't know how long. Like me, he just seemed to enjoy the sight of a naked guy tied up with no chance whatsoever to escape. I could do nothing but endure it, but the thought of him seeing me like this and having complete control over me kept my erection constant! Not sure just why, but it did. I could only endure, and think to myself that it was all okay... my turn to tie him up was coming along "soon".
After what seemed an lifetime, I heard the chair move, and Rod sat on the edge of the bed beside me. "You look great, Jake!" he said a few times. After he had said it each time, I could feel his hand closing in on some part of my exposed body. A couple of times he closed his fist around the hair on my chest and slowly pulled on it--the equivalent of a thousand pin pricks attacking the nerve endings all at the same time. Other times he closed his fist around my enlarged cock or my ball sack and squeezed until I groaned as loud as I could.
He tied a shoelace around my cock and balls--my own shoelace, by the way, which he removed from one of my shoes (I later found out). He did remove it some time later and put in inside my shoe to keep it safe.) Twice he rolled me onto my stomach and whipped the soles of my bare feet with a few strands of rope before returning me to my side. Each time he did some mild torture technique to me, I would just endure it and repeat in mind again that it was okay--my turn to tie him up was coming along "soon". These small tortures to my naked body went on for a long time. I had lost a lot of feeling in the limbs of my body, but he did not ask about it or seem concerned.
Suddenly a solid knock came at the door, and a female voice said in a loud voice, "Hello! Housekeeping! I'm here to clean the room!" It was followed by the fumbling sound of a key being inserted and the knob began to turn.
Rod leaped off the bed and ran to the door, catching the door with his foot just as it began to open. "We are not done yet!" Rod said from behind the door as he held it from opening completely. "You'll have to come back later!" The door closed, and Rod locked it, making sure that the deadbolt was in place this time.
Rod came back to the bed and sat down on the edge again. "Damn!" he said. "Just what we need: for the housekeeper to see me in this ski mask, and you looking like you do right now!" (As for me, I felt like I was trying to swallow my heart and get it back into its proper place despite the gag that still filled my mouth! I was the one who was completely naked!) Rod must have looked at the clock on the nightstand then because he sprang into fast action instead of the slow, methodical groping of my body that he had been engaged in before the interruption. He quickly rolled me onto my stomach and began to untie me. With the over abundance of knots, it was taking much longer than when he was in the process of tying me up.
'Jake," he said in a hurried manner, "I am so sorry; I really am! I've kept you tied up for over three hours, and I have to be leaving soon to get to my meeting in time!" (What was he saying to me?! I'm not hearing right.) "There is not enough time for you to tie me up! I'm sorry, but I will be back and we can meet again in a few months... you can tie me up then. In fact, you can keep me tied up the entire time the next time we meet! Besides, if you think about it, it is somewhat awkward to be the one tied up and the one in control in the same meeting. It's not that easy to switch places at the drop of a hat like that. It would probably work out better in the long run to have you tie me up next time... " He rambled on and on.
I wanted him to take the gag off so I could add my thoughts to the conversation, but he was to busy attacking the knots to even think about removing the gag. Because of the way he had hogtied me, he had to untie my feet before he could work on my hands and arms. But after several minutes of frenzied labor, I was free. I removed the gag myself, then spoke back to him as I went to work on the tape that had been wound around my head to cover my eyes.
"Just a minute, Rod," I began to protest. "The agreement was that I would have a chance to tie you up... today! There is no guarantee of another meeting. This really pisses me off... " Now I was rambling, but did manage to keep my vocabulary in check--for the most part. I ended with a plea, but tried to mask it as a demand. "We agreed to meet for four hours, and we still have a half hour left. I can have the chance to tie you up at least once!"
Rod looked at me, and I could tell he was thinking the matter over. "Okay, Jake," he finally said. "But it has to be a quick one. And two things: please don't take the ski mask off when I'm tied up. And this is the only outfit close to a suit that I brought. I have a sport jacket in my car and I have to wear it to the meeting, so be careful and don't get it messed up in any way. I mean, don't hogtie me and put wrinkles in the pants. And damn it, can we hurry?!"
"Fine," I said. "I won't even take the time to get dressed. Just pull that chair over here and sit down."
He followed my orders and sat down as I picked up the ropes he had used to tie me earlier. I moved behind him and pulled his hands behind the chair. I tied them tightly together, side by side, then knotted the rope to the lower rung of the chair--well out of his reach. Then I moved down to his feet. There was still a fair amount of time, so I lifted one foot and removed his shoe and sock. I then tied his bare foot to the front chair leg. I repeated this process with his other foot.
It was great to look at him, but I wanted a little more discomfort for him. After all, I was still naked myself! I stood over him and quickly unbuttoned his dull gold dress shirt, throwing it back over his shoulders and revealing a smooth, sculpted chest with brown quarters-size nipples. He definitely had the well developed body of a gymnast! I twisted his nippless lightly, and a moan escaped from his mouth as his nipples began to harden. I noticed that there was a growing bulge in his trousers also. What the heck--he deserved it for what he had done to me! I unfastened his belt and unzipped his trousers. He shook his head, but said nothing. I pulled his trousers down as far as his spread feet would allow, then pulled his underwear down. A large cock sprang out of confinement and bobbed up and down for a few seconds. At that moment it hit me: "Rod" seemed to be a very appropriate name for him!
This was a better picture of his discomfort: a guy with a great looking body (face still unseen), tied to a chair, barefoot, frontal part of his body fully exposed and vulnerable! What the heck--he still deserved it! I took his cock in one hand and began to stroke it, my fingers encircling the shaft and gliding up and down. It grew even more and began to darken slightly. I began to stroke Rod's bare chest with my other hand, tweaking his nipples when my hand wandered close to them. He threw his head back and started pleading, "No, Jake! No, please! I can't take this!" I continued to stroke, gradually picking up speed. "No Jake!" His head began to roll around on his neck as he spoke.
I was a man possessed! (Not really.) I am not into things like this with other guys--but I justified it by thinking he deserved it! I was actually smiling as I continued--a man with a mission!
"Jake," Rod cried out. "Jake, I am coming! I can't get this suit dirty! Jake, I'm coming! Stop!"
I moved to the side just in time to avoid the huge eruption from his enlarged cock, and the second even larger eruption that followed almost immediately, and the third eruption that was also quite admirable in size, and the fourth. I managed to come out of it relatively unscathed: just a small amount landed on my thumb and index finger. Rod was a different story: he was saturated from his bare feet to his neck, and his underwear and trousers and shirt were not spared. It was everywhere! What the heck, I rationalized--he deserved it after what he had put me through!
Rod's head continued to roll around, and he moaned in what I thought was a contented manner. But then reality set in, and his head popped up. "Please untie me, Jake," he pleaded. "I have got to clean myself up!"
I looked at the clock. Still a few minutes left of the four hours. I slowly untied his feet first as he unsuccessfully struggled to lift his hands behind the chair. Once his feet were free, I untied the knot holding his bound hands to the lower rung of the chair. Once the knot was untied, he pulled his hands up and leaped to his feet. He rolled his upper body around, twisting his hands and struggling to get free of the ropes binding them together behind his back. He did not dare try to walk, because when he stood his trousers fell down around his ankles, followed soon after by his underwear. As he twisted and flexed his arms to free his tied hands, his shirt slid further down his arms, covering his hands completely.
I watched, enjoying his predicament, and the fact that he was exposing his well-sculpted body even more and all by himself. He finally realized that I was his only real means of escape and looked my direction. "Please untie me, Jake," he pleaded one more time. I moved closer to do so. Once free, he pulled his trousers up and made a beeline for the bathroom. He shut the door and I could hear the water running.
I managed to get dressed and gather up the ropes and bandannas before he emerged from the bathroom, his clothes wet from his attempt to get them cleaned. He sat on the bed and put his socks and shoes on, then reached out his hand toward me.
"Fantastic time, Jake," he said to me. "Got to rush, but hope to do it again sometime! Will be in touch!" Then he flew out the door, leaving it ajar. I began to touch up and organize the room and made an attempt to clean up the wetspots on the carpet from Rod's massive eruptions. I had a smile on my face as I knelt on the floor, and a great memory to think about on the drive home.
Suddenly, the door flew open, and Rod reentered, dropped a few bills on the bed. "My share of the room rental!" he quickly said as he flew out the door once more. I wondered if he knew that he had forgotten to put his ski mask back on when he entered the room for the last time to drop off the money. And I also wondered how his meeting went. I hope the meeting worked out well for him. What the heck, I rationalized, he deserved it.You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum
26.09.13