Story – ‘Bondage Marathon’

OREGON. My reason for writing is that I am obliged to tell you my story as part of my payment for services rendered. I’ll begin by telling you about my companion, Clifford. Cliff and I have lived together for about five years, and we very much enjoy each other. I am thirty-two, Cliff is twenty-seven. We both play at active sports and hobbies and I teach physical education in a local high school. Although it is not a problem, I have harbored a fantasy for some years, and up until now Cliff has protested that he was either unable or unwilling to fulfill it. He, however, offered to help find someone who might do the job. We asked around discreetly and after a year or so, through a friend where he works, Cliff learned about a man who also lives in this part of the city. The man, whom I’ll call Adam, is a professional architect who, as a hobby, apparently enjoys being a bondage top; something that I understand is unusual as most like to be the bottom. Both Cliff and I do. But that’s his reputation as we heard it. If he finds a subject or proposition for a scene interesting, he will undertake to execute it. Much in demand, as you can imagine, he is quite choosy.

I called Adam, explained how I had learned about him, and told him that I hoped he would be willing to help me. Reluctantly, after explaining that he had all of the subjects he really wanted, he suggested that we meet the following Friday at an upscale restaurant for dessert and conversation. I agreed. He described himself, and I did likewise. We had no trouble identifying each other, and he was better looking than he admitted; about five-ten with dark hair, beginning to thin at the temples with a touch of gray; probably about forty. Well built, he complemented his clothes. But most of all I noticed his soft brown eyes and his very mild manner. I had trouble imagining such a reserved man being much of a bondage aficionado. After some small talk, he asked what I wanted.

“My fantasy is prolonged bondage,” I began. “I want to spend a minimum of forty-eight hours tied up and gagged. Not just tied up, but strictly tied up and effectively gagged.”

“Oh,” he sighed. He explained at length that most let their fantasies outrun their real ability to endure strict bondage, or any bondage at all. “So many people think they want an all night session, or even more, but most are demanding release after two or three hours. Are you sure about this?”

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Alone III -‘X’ – Photo Gallery

In the third of the ‘Alone’ series of bondage videos, ‘The Prisoner’ finds himself in top to toe skintight rubber (for the first time ever) and then roped to a bondage scaffold in a tight ‘X’ shaped standing spreadeagle.

To further add to the misery of his imprisonment, he’s rubber hooded and then ballgagged.

‘The Prisoner’ is then left alone to contemplate his captivity and the ever increasing pressure and pain in his shoulders, arms and wrists.

Look for the video link at the bottom of this post…


Alone III – ‘X’ from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

Alone III – ‘X’

In the third of the ‘Alone’ series of bondage videos, ‘The Prisoner’ finds himself in top to toe skintight rubber (for the first time ever) and then roped to a bondage scaffold in a tight ‘X’ shaped standing spreadeagle.

To further add to the misery of his imprisonment, he’s rubber hooded and then ballgagged.

‘The Prisoner’ is then left alone to contemplate his captivity and the ever increasing pressure and pain in his shoulders, arms and wrists.

Alone III – ‘X’ from Heavy Bondage on Vimeo.

Story – ‘Attack’

I was so excited! The time had come!!!
It had taken a couple of months for me to put the cash to one side ready for the purchase. But I knew that it would be worth it. All those little sacrifices I’d made to make sure I had the right amount of money saved.
Living in London I’d decided that it was time to take advantage of the wealth of fetish shops on offer. I’d decided that I wouldn’t buy a bit here, a bit there, but jump into it big time.
I’d never bought any fetish clothing before, part because of the shame I felt from my passion for the “fetish” and part because I’d never lived by myself before so I couldn’t really indulge myself in my true passion.
The magazines I’d looked at time and time again during my youth, showing all kinds of male rubber bondage had all excited me, and I new that I wanted to explore this further. I managed to collect quite a collection of magazines and images, and keep them all hidden from my family and subsequent flatmates.
But now that my job had bought me down to London I found myself living on my own with time and money to spare.
I hadn’t worked out what I was going to buy, only that I was going to spend every last bit of the savings on rubber / bondage items. It was to be a momentous day.
The butterflies in my stomach on the tube journey across London were almost intolerable, but the thought of what was to come kept my going. Even though I was in my early twenties, I felt like a school kid going on a day trip.
Entering the shop I’d selected to blow my savings, I had to stop myself from running around the shop grabbing everything from their hangers and trying them on.
The shop assistant was really helpful in here. I’d been in a few times previously and tried a few things on. He’d helped my with the fittings but was used to me walking out of the shop without buying anything. He was in for a real shock today.
I didn’t know where to start.
When the assistant smiled over and asked if he could help me today, I just asked “Is there anything new in?” Quite a calm response for somebody so worked up inside.
A huge smirk crept across the assistants face as he led me over to a rail at the back of the store. “Only this“he said, as he picked up an incredible garment from the rail.
It was the most wonderful straight jacket I had ever seen. It was made out of medium weight black rubber, had straps hanging off every part of it, two crotch straps and even a built on hood.
The overall look of the jacket was incredibly menacing. Such a limp looking item that could hold somebody in inescapable bondage.

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