It figures that the subway would get stuck between stations! He said to come by at 8 pm and it was 8.20 already! The ad said “FOR SALE: LEATHER STRAIGHTJACKET – CHEAP” Because I’m late someone’s probably already beaten me to it. Ah, finally the train is moving again. I hope I’m not too late. One more stop, then two blocks from there. Jesus, its 8.30!
‘Hi’, I said, ‘I’m here about the -‘
‘You’re late’, he said, cutting me off.
‘I’m sorry; the subway got stuck between -‘
‘You should have called.’
‘I couldn’t, the -‘
‘Shut up, I’m late because of you!’
The low light inside revealed a cigarette burning in an ashtray under the lamp on a table. Nearby was a magazine of some kind, and a half finished bottle of beer. He was a handsome man with craggy good looks and appeared to be about 45. He was wearing blue jeans and black boots, belt and tee shirt. A reds smoker, just like me – the box outlined in the pocket of his tee.
‘How much?’ I asked.
‘Try it on 1st, see if it fits’
I couldn’t believe it! It wasn’t sold yet. Was he waiting for the highest bidder, I wondered?
I removed my own jacket and held my arms out. The straightjacket was incredibly tough and sturdy. He jerked it up my arms and over my shoulders. He worked quickly, buckling the back. As he buckled up the collar piece, I got a terrific whiff of that musky leather smell. There also seemed to be cigarette smoke mixed in. I love the combination of leather and smoke and immediately felt my gonads begin to stir. My own reds were digging into my chest as he tightened the jacket. I should have thought to remove them. We’ll see if it really is a crush proof box!
His hands barely grazed my cock as he reached between my legs to pull the straps hanging in front to fasten them in the back, making it impossible to work the jacket up over my head. The leather squeaked and strained as he crossed my arms tightly in front of my chest and buckled them in back. He dragged deeply on the butt clenched between his teeth while he bound me, exhaling two steady streams through his nostrils. How I wanted a smoke! A smaller strap bound my forearms and was fastened to two rings in the front of the straightjacket, just about at the top of my stomach. These held me firm – I couldn’t budge an inch! It smelled and sounded so good! He pulled another smoke out of the box and must have noticed me watching him intently, because he stopped and took it from his mouth and put it in mine. He took another for himself, fired it up and then lit mine.
‘Go ahead, try.’
While I struggled in the jacket, trying to release myself, he put on a pair of tight black chaps, a cycle jacket and cap.
‘As I said, I’m late.’
Ah, he’s going to release me, I thought.
‘Here, take a look at yourself’, he said drawing me over to a full length mirror. Squinting through the swirls of smoke from my butt, I admired his handy work. He came up behind me and removed the butt from my lips. The next thing I knew, he’d pulled me down into a metal chair and fastened leather belts around my waist, holding me to the chair.
‘What’re you doing?’ I shouted.
My legs were pulled back and tied off to the chair legs w/ leather straps. Next he produced two small padlocks and a small length of chain from his jacket pocket. Quick movements at my neck told me that he had locked my neck to the back of the chair somehow.
‘There. That ought to hold you for a while.’
‘But, I -‘
He gagged me with a leather glove that, like the straightjacket, also smelled of smoke and tasted of nicotine. This smoky gag was held in place by a soft leather strap forced between my teeth and tied off behind my head.
‘Now you’ll see what it’s like to be kept waiting.’
Grabbing his keys, lighting another red, and nodding at me, he walked out the door. I heard the lock fall into place and his footsteps recede down the hall. Staring at myself, gagged and bound to the metal chair in his snug, perfectly fitting leather straightjacket, I wondered how long he might be gone. And what might happen when he returned…
Well, I guess I have plenty of time to think about it. Figuring it to be about 9.15 when he left (shit, I don’t even know his name, and here I am trussed up into a tight leather package in his apt.), I’d guessed that he was heading way downtown to the Spike or the Anvil, though’ not directly, it was much too early for any action like that. Maybe to friends’ apt 1st, for a little priming. Goddamn! I wish I had a smoke. All I could do was look at the hard outline of my box of reds through the leather! At least I could still smell and taste the combination of leather and smoke on the gag forced into my mouth.
My legs were getting sore from being pulled back and tied off to the chair. So securely was I belted and chained to it, that there was very little play when I struggled. The result was a little squeak from the leather and only the faintest of leather aroma. Christ, this guy was thorough, not allowing me even the slightest satisfaction from my predicament.
All I could do was stare at myself in the mirror he had propped before me and wait. For what, I was not sure. I daydreamed of him in his leathers, handling his smoke like a real man, squinting through it periodically. I recalled that his voice was deep and raspy, probably from all those years of reds smoking’.
I heard some keys rattling in the lock and the door opened and he came in and went directly into the bedroom. There were the usual sounds of undressing: keys and change being dropped, shoes clumping onto the floor and the like. I caught the distinct smell of a fresh cigarette being smoked! Man, I had such a boner for one. I waited for him to come out to me, buck naked w/ a burning red in his hand. That didn’t happen. The next thing I heard was the shower running.
After a short time, it stopped and the aroma of fresh soap and shaving cream came wafting out with the steam and the smell of another butt burning. Fuck, man! Gimme a smoke, I wanted to yell, but the gag prevented it.
I heard him come out of the bedroom and caught a glimpse of him through the corner of my eye as he breezed past into the kitchen, glowing ember clenched between his teeth. The fridge door opened and shut and a bottle of beer was popped open. He walked into the living room and came to an abrupt stop.
I heard “well, well, well, what do we have here?” That’s when I realized that it wasn’t him!
“Jack’s always been a good host, but he’s really outdone himself, this time. Aren’t we gonna have some fun. Later. Still w/ the straightjacket, that Jack. Works every time! He just keeps on fishing’ w/ that same bait. Yep, I’d say you were a keeper. For me? Him? I guess I’ll have to wait to find out. I was supposed to be here hours, ago, but my train was late, and I got to run to meet Jack and the guys. But I’ll be seeing you later, I’m sure.”
‘MMMPHHP’! Was all I could manage through the gag?
“What’s that, boy?” he said, untying my gag. I could hardly speak. “Here, have some beer”. He held the bottle up to my lips and the cold beer poured down my throat. I hadn’t realized how the gag had dried me out. It tasted great. “Damn, boy, you ARE thirsty”
He came back w/ another beer, pulled over a chair and set it on the chair. A long tube went from the bottle to my mouth, serving as a huge straw. “So that’s why Jack has all this aquarium tubing” he said w/ a wry smile. Please, can I have a smoke? I asked. “Well, boy (calling me ‘boy’, making no attempt to learn my name), I don’t know as I have time to feed it to you. With that he double dragged, leaned over, took the tube from my mouth and shot gunned the rich smoke from his lungs into mine. Then he clamped his hands across my mouth and nose, forcing me to hold it in. I was in heaven. It tasted and felt so good!
“That’ll have to do. I got to get dressed and get downtown”. I told him that I would hold the butt in my teeth while he dressed, if he didn’t mind.
“Well, all right”. He went into the bedroom and came back with a fresh red in his mouth and an unlit one for me. The click of the Zippo, gave my boner, which didn’t go unnoticed, a tweak. He cupped my cock and balls as I took that 1st deep drag. “Don’t you worry; someone will be getting to these later!”
He left me to stare at myself in the mirror, smoking, still bound up in the straightjacket and tied to the chair. W/ every drag I took, I felt the box of reds in my shirt pocket jab into me as my chest expanded w/ the smoke. The leather squeaked and pulled across my chest, shoulders and back w/ every deep drag. Fortunately, no hot ash fell; otherwise, my crotch would have been in trouble. I could hear him moving around the bedroom, dressing, I presumed.
“OK, bucko, out w/ the smoke, I got to go, now.” Like Jack, he was in black leather, except he had on a pair of thick, heavy jeans, instead of chaps. He took the burning butt from my lips and crushed it out in the ashtray. I asked if he might retie my feet, letting them rest on or closer to the floor than Jack had left them. He thought that was agreeable and tied them off to the front legs of the chair. The smoke from his own cigarette curled around his head and wafted up around my own head as he retied my feet. I asked him if I could have another sip of the beer that was on the chair and he took the end of the tube and put it in my mouth. It wasn’t a smoke, but it tasted pretty good. Leaving the tube in my mouth to sip beer, as I wanted, he bent over, clamped his mouth over my nose and shot gunned another load of smoke into my lungs. Turning off the light, he walked out the door. For the 2nd time that evening, I heard footsteps recede down the hall…
Thank God for the beer, I was still so thirsty. I tried to restrain myself and sip it very slowly, for once it was gone there was no telling when my next drink might be. I was drinking much more quickly than I realized, the bottle was empty in no time. Great! Now what was I to so? Nothing, but sit there and wait. Fuck me, I wish I had a smoke. I should have asked Jack’s friend to leave an unlit one in my mouth. At least that way I would be able to smell the tobacco while I waited. The beer gave me a little buzz and I relaxed in to my bondage. Though’ Jack’s friend had turned off the light when he walked out the door, my eyes adjusted to the dark. Actually, it wasn’t that dark, there was enough light coming in the window from the street light that I could still make out my bound up form in the mirror.
I didn’t think it was possible, but I fell asleep tied to the chair. I have no idea how long I was dozing, all I know is that I woke up, having to take the wickedest piss. What a smart idea it was for me to guzzle those 2 beers! I never even thought about the consequences. Man, now what was I going to do? I tried to find a more comfortable position in the chair, but even though’ my feet had been repositioned; I still couldn’t reduce the urge to piss. The straightjacket was so restrictive that there was going to be pressure on my bladder, no matter what I did. I tried to psyche myself out of it: ‘It’s only 2 beers; you’ve had more than that before and been able to hold it!’ I told myself. Then I told myself ‘Yeah, and I wasn’t caught up in a tight leather straightjacket was a thick leather strap pulled taught against my waist holding me down to a chair, either!’ The pressure from the strap around my waist seemed to increase with each minute I sat there. I was in fucking agony. Jack would kill me if I pissed myself right there in his living room! It didn’t seem as if I was going to have much of a choice though’. I couldn’t bear the situation much longer. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered again what I had gotten myself into.
I heard the locks being thrown on the door. Oh, man, thank God he’s back. I could finally get let out of this thing, take a piss, and go home. I was stiff and sore from being trussed up for God knows how long. And I needed a smoke in the worst way! The door opened and, through the corner of my eye, I could make out two forms in the doorway silhouetted by the hall light. One figure started down the hallway and I heard Jack’s voice sternly correct him saying: “No, boy, get your ass in the living room 1st. Over there”, motioning to the chair next to me that had the empty bottle of beer on it. “What’s this” he said when he saw the beer bottle with the tube in it sitting on the chair.
“I watered the houseguest before I went out to meet you” answered Jack’s friend, wryly, through clenched teeth. “Another reason, I was late, I guess”. It was then that I noticed the cuffs, straps and collar, buckled and locked, restraining his hands, high up behind his back. The collar was a severe one, several inches thick, with a leather covered plate of some sort that held his chin up and out. Jack grabbed the empty bottle, swung the chair around to face me and barked “Sit down” at his friend.
“Please, sir, I have to piss”, I said quietly, also thinking I really needed a smoke. This was greeted with the matter of fact response “No shit, you’ve been trussed like that for several hours and beer drinking’ don’t help much”. The click of Jack’s Zippo caused me to look up at him. He responded to my glance with “I suppose you want a smoke, too”.
“No, sir, I mean yes sir. I mean no, I mean I REALLY have to piss. Please SIR. I can’t hold it any longer!”
“Yeah, me too”, this from the clenched jaw of Jack’s buddy. “C’mon Jack, let ‘him take a piss. Give ’him a fucking smoke and let ‘him piss. Let us both”.
“I tell you what; let’s make this a little more interesting”. With that, he opened his box of reds and put a fresh smoke in each of our mouths. Firing them both up, he said, “The 1st one to finish their smoke can piss”.
Jack’s friend and I just stared at each other with burning butts hanging out of our mouths. “Well, get to it” Jack said, “or don’t you really have to piss? And I want to see you boys inhale, too! Puffing gets you disqualified.”
Jack’s friends winked at me and began double and triple dragging in earnest. I did likewise, hoping that the collar he was wearing would restrict this breathing and make it hard for him to take the large lungful of smoke I knew he was capable of. I had to piss, and SOON! We were both engulfed in a blue haze, he exhaling from his nostrils due to the restrictions of the collar, and I from the side of my mouth. The burning ends of each of our smokes were huge glowing embers. There was little ash forming, but a bit of ember fell off onto my lap. Fortunately Jack was watching closely through his own cloud and he reached down to my crotch and batted it out. My dick had been turgid during this smoke out, and I know Jack noticed it. He gave me a knowing look as he squinted through the smoke that was curling up into eyes from the red he held clenched between his teeth. That was all I needed to spring to a full erection! That and staring at the bound, leathered man sitting across from me struggling with his own smoke.
I heard Jack announce “well, looks like you’ve won”…