Story – ‘The Favour’

“Won’t you do it, just for me?” she begged.

“I would be too embarrassed,” he explained. “It’s just not something I can do.”

“But it’s nothing really. All you would do is model some clothes and toys. That’s it.”

“And the swim suit?”

“Oh, yes, you would wear your black suit. The one you wear when you race.”

“So,” he said, “you want me to parade around in front of a bunch of strange women wearing almost nothing. I don’t think so.”

“Only five or six women,” she said. “And Mistress Domina. It would mean so much to me. I don’t ask you to do much. What could it hurt?”

“What kind of things will I be modelling again?” he asked.

“Just clothes and toys and things. It’s like a Tupperware party, and I get a percentage of whatever she sells. Oh please Steve, I need the money. It would be such a favour to me. And later I’ll make it worth your while,” she cooed.

“I don’t know,” he hesitated, weakening.

“Just be here tomorrow at one in the afternoon, and wear the Speedos under your Levis.

“I suppose,” he gave in. “But this is something I don’t look forward to.”
The next day he arrived at her apartment a few minutes before one. She kissed him as he walked in, giving him a big hug, running her hand over his chest, down to his crotch where she fondled the bulge in his Levi’s.

“Did you wear the swim suit?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Great. Now, go into my bedroom and take off everything except the suit, and then watch TV until the others are here. I’ll come and get you when we’re ready.”

Steve went into the bedroom, slowly stripped down to the bikini-like black Speedos that he had worn when swimming in competition. It had been a struggle getting it on, as it was almost too small for him. He still had his figure – tall, dark, with a narrow waist and a pleasant butt. His upper body was broad and strong, muscular, he showed a washboard chest and a clearly defined set of abs. He lay on the bed and waited, watching one of the afternoon soap operas.

Outside he heard voices. The women guests were arriving. The party was to start at two.

A little after two she opened the door and called him to join the others in the main room. He got up, and slowly walked to the door, still full of doubt about the whole thing. Outside he saw seven women sitting around the edge of the room. Good-looking women. Some as good looking as his fiancée, and there was no doubt that she was spectacular. Sometimes he got turned on just looking at her. In bed, with her ample breasts and well rounded contours, her blond hair and seductive voice, he was in heaven.

The women ‘ooohed’ when he entered the room. He was especially good looking, and their sighs indicated that they appreciated seeing him.

“So, this is Steve,” came the voice of a slender older woman dressed almost entirely in black. “He is beautiful.”

Steve blushed.

“Steve,” said his fiancée, “This is Madam Domina. You just do whatever she says.”

Madame Domina set to work, dressing Steve in a variety of shirts, smoking jackets, lounging pants and tops, muscle shirts, and other clothes that he made look good with his figure. After about an hour, she announced, “Now, to the toys. I think this is what some of you have been looking forward to.”

The first thing the Madame did was fix a set of handcuffs on Steve’s wrists, behind his back. As she had with all the other things, she talked about the product, explained its virtues, and its cost. She removed the handcuffs and moved on to wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, a blindfold, and a harness affair that held Steve’s arms firmly behind his back. Steve was uneasy about the bondage equipment, but she quickly removed each item after talking about it. He was there, and wasn’t much he could do about it, so he went along with her directions.

After running through a series of small items, Madame Domina produced a large leather jacket. Slipping it on, Steve realized that it was a straitjacket. The Madame quickly buckles up the belts in the back, pulled in his arms around his body, and bound them in place. Then she fastened the straps that went between his legs, one on either side of the masculine bulge that filled almost to overflowing the front pouch of his swim suit.

“I’m not sure about this,” he said quietly to the Madame.

“Quiet,” she said, and she gave him a slap on the butt – causing the women to snicker.

The Madame took some time to point out the features of the straitjacket. It was secure, well made, and effective. Steve knew he could not get himself out of it. The Madame next fixed new cuffs to Steve’s legs at his ankles, above and below his knees. These she fastened together leaving him standing, but immobile.

“Steve,” she said, “I want you to lay down on the floor.”

She helped him, and as he sat, he asked, “When will you take this off?”

“Quiet,” she demanded. “It will come off when I am through demonstrating it, just like the other things.”

Next the Madame produced a blindfold and put it on Steve. He tried to avoid it, but said nothing. The Madame had her way. Bending behind him, she produced a leather strap, fastened it to the cuffs binding Steve’s ankles, and pulled it up to a ring in the back of the straitjacket, tugging it until it was tight and Steve’s legs were in a firm hog-tie position.

At this Steve protested – “I don’t like this, and I would like the blindfold off as well as the other things. I think the demonstration is over.”

“One more thing,” said Madame Domina.

She quickly grabbed Steve’s nose and pinched it shut with her fingers. As he opened his mouth to protest, she shoved in the plug of a large gag, forcing the plug fully into Steve’s mouth, quickly wrapping his head with the straps and buckling them firmly in place.

“Mmmmmmmmmm Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm Mpfffff,” came Steve’s muffled protests.

Now fully hog-tied, bound and gagged on the floor of the apartment, it was obvious to Steve that he wasn’t going anywhere, nor going to protest until the Madame or someone released him. He struggled, but it did no good.

In the room Steve heard the Madame explain that the demonstration was over, and that she would then take orders for any of the things she had shown. For perhaps half an hour or more, Steve heard women chattering, some buying things, all admiring the products. Slowly, one by one or in groups, the women left. Finally, there was just Madame Domina and Steve’s fiancée.

“Well,” he heard the Madame say, “is he how you wanted him?

“Oh yes,” she answered. “He’s wonderful.”

Steve protested into the gag, but they ignored him.

“Good,” said the Madame. “I’ve sold a lot of things, and our bargain was that you could keep the things that Steve has on now. I’m satisfied if you are.” With that the Madame left. Now it was just Steve and his fiancée.

She got down on the floor, and sat next to him. She touched his face above the gag. He moaned. She bent close to him and said, “I’ve wanted you this way for a long time. Ever since we met. I’ve dreamed of what it would be like to have you as my prisoner – trussed up and gagged this way. But I didn’t know if you would let me tie you up. So I had Madame Domina help me, and she came up with this plan. Now that I have you, I intend to keep you at least for the weekend.  I’ll show you a pleasure you have never known. When I let you go on Monday, if I let you go, I’m sure you’ll be willing to let me dress you in these toys whenever I want. Meanwhile, I think it’s time to introduce you to your new home, so just lay back and enjoy it.”

A few seconds passed and Steve became aware of several people re-entering the room. Steve moaned into the gag as hands grabbed his body and lifted him up. The firm grip of his bondage pulled tight on his restrained body. He felt himself being carried for a short distance. The air became slightly cooler.Then all the movement stopped. He heard the clanking of metal. He groaned again and pulled against his restraints but the straight jacket and the cuffs kept him locked in a firm embrace.

‘Okay. Kneel him in there, please.’

His legs were lowered and he was placed kneeling on what felt like a cold rubber surface. The various pairs of hands released him. The hogtie kept him firmly crouched in the kneeling position. His hands were able to touch his cuffed ankles behind his back.

He felt cold metal being locked around his neck. A collar.

‘Now lean forward, this will be a squeeze.’

His head was pushed forward and he suddenly became aware of what was happening. He was in a cage and the lid of the cage was being lowered. The lid clanged shut and he heard the rattling of keys and a padlock. He tried to lift his head up and it banged on the bars above his head. This cage was too small.

‘Careful, we don’t want you to get hurt,’ came a mocking voice.

He felt hands grab his heavy metal collar. It felt like a chain was being attached. The chain suddenly yanked forward pulling his head down again. He once again heard rattling. He tried to lift his head up. The chain pulled tight and he realised he’d been chained either to the floor or the bars at the front of his cage.

He moaned and struggled briefly. He panicked when he realised that struggling may cause him to fall from his hogtied kneeling position. He knelt still and tried to control the sensation of panic which was building up inside him. All of a sudden his gag felt very large in his mouth and breathing seemed to be getting harder.

‘Welcome to your new home…you may be hear for the weekend…or maybe for longer. It depends on whether I can think of a good excuse for you being away from work. Neverthless, I’ll be back later to play. Maybe in a few hours or so. Bye.’

Steve heard footsteps and then a door shut and lock. His body was starting to hurt. He didn’t know how much more he could stand. Near to his cage, a small webcam came to life. And in a room close by, the image of a muscled young guy – in a cage, gagged and blindfolded, wearing only a tiny speedo, cuffs and chains and a straight jacket – appeared on a computer screen.

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