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Boundaries
Chapter One
It was a typical warm summer evening, still bright at 9 o'clock as I finished my game of tennis. I said goodbye to my tennis partner and headed for home. I didn't bother with a shower. As it was such a warm evening I would have needed another by the time I was home. I enjoyed the walk in my sweaty white tennis shorts and t-shirt.
I was just about home when I spotted something that sent a shiver of excitement right through me. It was the van. HIS van. Parked right up on the side of the road. I recognised it from the pictures he'd shown me online. It was a White Volkswagen with that distinctive red and blue sticker on the back.
I hesitated for a moment. Was I ready to go through with this? I'd only ever spoken to this guy online but through many horny chats I'd confided in hom about my confused sexuality and my desire for some extreme bondage. He seemed like a knowledgeable and interesting guy when it came to bondage, so, we agreed that we could play a little game. I was to clear the decks for the next few days and one of the evenings on my way back from tennis he would "kidnap" me, take me to his place and we could play out some general bondage and kidnap scenarios. I agreed and hoped that he would push my boundaries a little.
So now, I was faced with my choice. If I wanted to go ahead with this. I was to knock on the back of the van three times.
I walked up with some trepidation and knock, knock, knock.
The door opened from the inside. I looked around me to see there were no other people out walking and I stepped in to the back of the van closing the door behind me.
He stood there, an imposing figure in black. Manly compared to my slim still adolescent figure. He wore a balaclava which frightened me a little. I noticed that the van interior was covered in a layer of polythene plastic.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yeah..."
He pushed me against the wall of the van. Quickly and roughly he slapped some duct tape over my mouth. Then he taped my wrists behind my back roughly fondling my genitals as he did. Next he shoved me down, lying me on the floor. He taped my ankles and pulled a black garbage sack up from feet until it covered my entire body. He tied it closed and above my head and I was trapped in a sweaty, sticky darkness and it was hard to breathe. Next I felt myself being buried in a pile of something, I don't know what he was putting over me to "hide" me.
I hear him climb into the front of the van and start the engine. We drove off. I spent forty minutes or so in that breathless, unbareably hot tomb. The plastic sack was stuck to me with my own sweat when the van finally came to a rest. The motor was switched off and I heard him step out the driver's door before walking to the back and opening it from the outside. He quickly uncovered me from the bundle of whatever I was under but I reamined in the sack which he roughly pulled from the van and let slap against the stony ground outside. I was hurting and helpless. He dragged me by my feet into some building or other and then I could tell he brought me down the stairs to the basement he had told me so much about in his emails. The basement where he kept his toys.
He ripped the plastic sack off me and I struggled to breathe as deeply as I could through my nose. I was left kneeling on the hard stone floor.
I must have made for a weak figure. I certainly felt weak. Kneeling in my tennis uniform, my shoulder length blond hair dripping with sweat. My hands and ankles bound in duct tape, my mouth taped into silence.
"Welcome to my basement faggot, I've been waiting so long to have you as a guest."
I knelt in silence.
"This week end is going to be a lot more intense than you expected but I think you'll like it. And if you don't? Well who cares if some gayboy ends up getting more than he baragined for when he agrees to a bondage week end with another man..."
His little speech frightened me. It terrified me but it also excited me. I wasn't even sure if he was serious, or how serious he was. He always seemed reasonable so maybe this was part of the act. Or maybe, as agreed, he would push my boundaries a little.
From his pocket he produced a small object which soon revealed itself to be a flick knife was the blade popped up violently. This frightened me a bit more and I wondered for a second or two if this guy was actually some psycho murderer.
My worry was relieved when he used the knife to cut loose my ankles and wrists before pulling the tape off my mouth with his hands. It hurt and let out a little yelp of pain in answer to which he slapped my clean acrross the face, "Speak when you're spoken to bitchboy, otherwise, not a sound."
"Yes sir," my voice broke with nerves as I spoke.
"Let's get you cleaned up. Strip!"
I rose to my feet and nervously, took off my tennis shoes and socks, then my t shirt and shorts. I figured he wanted me naked so I took my briefs off too. I usually wore boxers but I always wore briefs for tennis, they kept my junk in place as I jumped around the court. This time the briefs had served to keep my semi-erect cock in place, I was so taken up with everything I didn't even notice I was getting hard. I wasn't embarrased about being in front of him naked but I was about my semi- hard on. I guess I was enjoying it.
"Good, now over here." He pointed to a weird structure of metal bars in the middle of the floor, it looked like a minature, narrow football goal with two vertical bars and one horizontal connecting them. I was palced against this with the middle bar stopping half way up my back. My arms were stretched out and chained to the bar while my ankles were loosely chained to the side bars. He placed a small cock shaped gag in my mouth saying, "You better get used to this shape," and strapped it around my head. Obviously he didn't want to listen to any protestings from me but what did he expect me to protest about? That worried me.
I watched as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves, the sort you use in the kitchen then he retrieved a bottle of liquid from a shelf. The contents of this bottle he smeared liberally acrross chest and belly, up and down my legs, my armpits and all around my balls, dick adn ass crack. It gave a light stinging in my more sensitive areas but it wasn't too bad. I had no idea what the liquid was supposed to do, disinfect me maybe? He shuffled behind me for a while before his hands returned to my ass, a painful finger invaded me. Nothing had ever been up there before. "Good girl," he cooed mockingly.
"This," he said "is called an enema. I fill your boycunt with water and you hold it in until I let you relased it. Then we repeat."
This idea horrified me vaguely. I had just spotted the drainage on the floor beneath me when the tube was pushed in and I started to fill up with water. It was a creepy feeling to be filled with liquid from that end. It was very uncomfortable too and the longer I held it the worst the discomfort. Eventually I was told to let go and blew all the disgusting shitty water out of my ass, much of which ran down my legs, then he did it again and again until the water ran clear.
"Good fag," he said, "did you like that?" I nodded yes but I wasn't sure if I did enjoy it. My cock was semi hard still so I must have liked it somewhat.
You would think that an enema at the hands of a stranger was about the worst thing that could happen but what happened next was much more disturbing for me. I heard a buzzing about my ears and then somethig rough pushed against my head. I watched as my long blond hair fell down past my eyes, "No! no!" I said through the gag but it only took a few passes before my head was completely shorn. Tears ran down my face at the thought of this.
Master came and stood before me. He craddled my face in his hands and smirked as he wiped my tears with his thumb.
He released me from my chains before placing a light collar and leash around my neck. With the leash he led me to a shower area in the corner and turned a freezing cold hose on me. It was so cold that I shook and my chest tightened. I was dazed but not dazed enough to notice that was that liquid he was rubbed into me washed off, it took all of my body hair with it. This was getting extreme.
Master then roughly dried me with a towel and lead me over to another corner and ordered me on my knees again. This time he tugged at my left ear before I felt a terrible shot of pain bolt through it. Again he lead me by the cahin but this time we stopped in front of a full length mirror.
There I was- collared at the end of a leash being held by another man. I was hairless from the neck down and god, I was a skinhead. A fucking skin head and then I looked at my ear. I had been pierced and a black circular disc sat in my right ear lobe. I had sunk pretty low very quickly and my cock was hard.