I can definitely say that I slept like a baby. Like a baby I was unable to sleep through the night even though my restraints were very secure but still allowed for a fair degree of movement. The adult night time Depends created excessive warmth from the plastic covering and put extra pressure and sensitivity on my thighs and privates. The fullness of my bladder also become abundantly evident partly through the night and never seemed to allow for a deep sleep before I would awake with being on the edge of urinating. Sleeping next to Sir was also a different feeling. Sir's presence and movement gave me the sense that I was in someone else's bed. I was also excited with the thoughts concerning the endless possibilities arising from a new day. My mind wandered over the previous evening and the excitement surrounding the prospects for the remainder of the weekend. I just could not close my eyes for more than what appeared to be a few minutes. Like a baby, time was irrelevant, and long sustained sleep was something inconceivable.
While awake, I reflected on last evening's events and my three firsts. First, I was amazed at how easy and comfortable it was to be sexually aroused by a man and how, from a first kiss, my thoughts now yearned for greater and more intense arousal. Second, the memory of giving my first blow job remained indelibly. Even with the duct tape being placed over my mouth immediately after Sir's organism, the taste of his cum having long since cleared from my mouth, the memory of this intense experience was ineradicably burned in my cognizance. It was now part of my psychic. The third first was easily remembered; my first experience with anal intercourse. Every time I attempted the least bit of movement in bed I could partly recreated the sexual arousal when the butt plug Sir had inserted after his orgasm began to rub against my prostrate and evoked fondling memories. Despite still feeling sensitivity in my anal region and remembering the painful feeling of being stretched and used, mentally I longed to experience again the intensity of the moment. Throughout my lucid moments during the night I would try to gently move my hips, so as not to awaken Sir, but to remember his penis in my ass or to imaging the warmth and moisture of his lips on my mouth or penis. I tried as best as I could to bring back the emotions and sensations of receiving my first blow job and being used anally. Lying back and looking at the ceiling, I also realized a fourth first. I was now bound and secured in bed, sleeping beside a man, and clothed in nothing but a diaper. What an evening.
During the night when I was able to temporarily forget about being aroused, I reflected upon the last nine months of communication with Sir. Communication is too erroneous a word since he knew everything about me and I knew virtually nothing about him. In a top and bottom scenario, this was how it should be. I was not in love with him. Sir for me was like cocaine to an addict. The addict is not in love with cocaine but rather with the highs and lows that the substance can provide for him. Sir knew all my desires, life experiences, and fantasies. He literally and now ironically physically knew me inside and out. I have no doubt that the highs would continue throughout this weekend. Even thinking about the extensive and detailed preparations, as costly as they were, had me aroused with excitement and anticipation.
Over the last nine months, we had set the ground work for many things. We had talked about privacy and Sir knew all about my concerns for confidentiality. He suggested, and I finally agreed, that he would take pictures of the session, and even a few video clips. He assured me that this would not deter from the experience and I would appreciate them as keepsakes after the session. Sir would be permitted to retain an electronic copy of his work. To protect me, his copy was stored on a single hard disk drive that required scheduled resetting. Failure to reset the hard disk drive within the prescribed time would result in the unit easing all the memory and reloading the now existing space with a repetitive line of general information. This would eliminate any chance of someone else obtaining and distributing the pictures. In the event that anything should ever happen to Sir, my data would be erased in a manner that would result in the files ceasing to exist. On my side, I could do whatever I wanted with my pictures and video. The only thing he requested was that sometime after our session, I review the materials and provide Sir with feedback and comments allowing him to be able to improve his techniques with others and potentially with me. It was only right that I provide feedback since I was benefitting now from the responses of other bottoms.
After further discussions on the internet, we agreed that our activities over the weekend were to be bareback. As such, he requested a very recent clear bill of health by a physician to be left on the kitchen table when he arrived. Without this, our session would never get off the ground. Sir assured me he would do the same action to ensure safety and the fear of transmission of diseases. I would need to trust that he would fulfill his end of the bargain, which wasn't a big stretch since I would need to trust him completely with everything else. Sir needed to retain his anonymity and I needed to respect his boundaries. With his attention to detail, I had to feel confident in completely trusting Sir with all aspects of my life.
Preparations for the weekend took months and as mentioned, involved quite an expense. Sir had a long and detailed list of items needed and clear directions as to the way the basement would be arranged. Most of the items were easy to imagine their uses and possible uses. The thought of possibilities continued to excite me and keep me motivated to finish the basement. All items appeared to be in keeping with my erotic fantasies and with each placement in the basement I would feel myself getting hard with excitement. I must say that there were also a few items that did remained a mystery and these also tended to result in heightening my anticipation and creative juices. I was just very horny. Over the last two months, my basement was transformed into a workshop and playroom. For example, Sir had demanded I order a large supply of art plaster casts. These were similar to ones used to set broken bones but much thinner and cured quicker. They were the equivalent to a type of strong, quick setting, paper mâché. He also requested an extremely large supply of fiberglass mat, glass, and resin. Since I had fantasized over the prospect of extreme bondage, it took little thought to comprehend the use of these expensive items. There were also a large number of other items such as disposable gloves, brushes, masking tape, marking pens, clamps, soft molding clay, rolls of construction plastic, ¾ inch plywood, wooden studs, and numerous other small hardware types of supplies like screws, nails, and anchor loops. Sir appeared to definitely be competent and interested in construction.
Early on in my acquisitions I had purchased and set up in the basement a bed and work table that Sir had requested. There was now a strong metal bed and industrial metal work table Hilti bolted to the floor. A ¾ inch sheet of plywood was brought down into the basement and, with a number of bolts and screws, was secured to the metal table. Two other items were left for me to construct and were easy to determine their purpose; a sawhorse and a pulley track system. Sir had been provided pictures of my basement and he in turn provided precise directions for the placement of all items. When things were purchased or completed, I would send Sir the pictures for his approval. Our in person time together would be too short for him to have to leave the session in order to purchase items. I had expressed my desire to experience extreme bondage and he was ready and experienced to meet my fantasies.
Sir demanded that all natural light was to be eliminated from entering the basement. I cut Styrofoam sheets to fit the basement window and secured them with duct tape. I put weather stripping at the bottom of the door leading to the basement to block any light from the kitchen. I also put up a curtain rod and a black sheet at the bottom of the basement stairs so that when someone left the basement, light from the kitchen would not temporarily enter the basement from the opened kitchen/basement door. Success was to be measured by being able to turn off the basement electric lights and have the basement in complete darkness. One shouldn't be able to see their hand in front of their face. Over the last few months, I found myself spending more and more time working in the basement and imagining each supply and piece of equipment and the potential permutations.
There was one final piece of equipment that I needed to purchase. Sir was willing to provide most of the regular bondage equipment and toys; however, I was to purchase a specific type and model of mummy bag. He intended to use the mummy bag with me and at the end of the session; I would allow him to keep the item to be used with others. Over time, this had been one way he was able to provide so many toys for others. Since I would be benefitting from a wealth of toys collected by other's individual sessions, I had no difficulty agreeing to his request. Heck, I had no difficulty agreeing to all Sir's requests.
Just weeks before our scheduled meeting, I had e-mail Sir all the pictures of the basement and all the little modifications. I was pleased when everything met with Sir's approval and nothing was left to do prior to our first meeting. The moment had arrived. Here I now lay in bed with Sir. I was wide awake and eager for Sir's awakening and the chance to spend time with Sir in the basement.
Sleep suddenly overcame me for a brief moment until I was quickly awoken when Sir lifted himself from the bed. He stretched his naked body and looked down at me. I gazed up at him with eyes that I hoped would alert him of my need to go to the bathroom. Sir smiled at my bound body and his possession but appeared not to understand my great physical need. When Sir began to leave the bedroom I could not take it any longer. In as loud and best a voice as I could muster, being firmly duct taped, I mumbled "u ned t go t tee batrem!"
Sir swung around with a stern and unpleasant look on his face. I instantly realized that I was in big trouble.
In Sir's strong and dominant voice, like a master disciplining his dog, Sir stated: "The rules are few and simple. What part of not talking unless given permission did you not understand?"
"I m sorrrri," I muffled and before the sounds came out of my taped mouth I realized my second mistake. When there is a battle between brain and bladder, bladder always seems to win.
Sir said nothing. He walked over to the straps that were loosely holding my mitted hands to the neck collar and tightened them so there was next to no movement. Sir then went to my feet and removed the padlock connecting both ankles together and stretched out my legs. Given my restrictive position all night, I felt the pain of my stiff limbs being moved so quickly. My legs were now strapped in a spread-eagle position. Sir tightened the straps until I thought my thighs would pop out of their sockets. I was in fear of what he would do next and felt relief when Sir left the room. I wiggling as best I could but I realized that I was not going anywhere. Sir quickly returned and just as quickly began to fondle my nipples. I could feel the stretch of the constraints and the pressure of the diaper as I became incredibly aroused. I closed my eyes and was beginning to again feel erotic ecstasy until the sharp pain of nipple clamps brought me crashing back to earth. Sir said nothing and left the bedroom.
I attempted to dislodge the clamps, but with my mitted hands tied tightly to my neck collar and my legs spread out, there was no way to brush off the secured clamps. Over time the sharp pain subsided and I then could feel a dull, throbbing, continuous pain. These intense feelings in my nipples and my movements to dislodge the clamps had brought back the full sensation of my bladder and the need for release. I was determined, however, that I could at least control myself from urinating. Focusing on the control of my bladder did not help that much and what helped less was hearing Sir flush the toilet and then take a shower. When Sir returned from his bathroom duties, I could see a pleased look on his face when he comprehended that I had not soiled the diaper. He leaned over to my ear and whispered, "You are not in control."
Sir headed to be bottom of the bed and set a chair by my feet. I then saw that he had my toothbrush from the bathroom and he began to lightly touch the bottom of my feet. I squirmed in a vain attempt to get away, almost as a reflex action, since I knew there was no hope of release. I wanted to tell him to stop but I dared not make a sound apart from the occasional grown. The tickling became unbearable and I felt the warm, wet sensation of my bladder voiding itself like a dam bursting on some poor unsuspecting downriver town. Sir then stopped his tickling while I felt exhausted and defeated. The exhausted feeling was short-lived when Sir yanked off the nipple clamps. I gasped in pain and felt a wave of despair.
As Sir left the room, I heard him say: "You will be continued to be reminded that you are mine. You control nothing. We have only just begun."
It was some time before Sir returned. Sir mentioned that he was well fed and everything had now been prepared for me. He detached the cable connecting my neck collar from the bedpost and using a short chain between my feet, released me from the footboard. With Sir's help, I was able to sit up and slide my legs over the bed. The damp, now cold, moist feeling between my legs and the squishing movement of my urine soaked diaper when I moved felt strange and childlike. I wondered what all my concern had been about not urinating. Why fight? Why not just give over all control? Sir helped me to walk and made sure my going down the stairs was safe. When we arrived at the kitchen, I saw my breakfast in dishes on the floor. Sir loosened the attachment of the mitts to the neck collar and secured a chain from the collar to a hook that I had been instructed to place on the kickboard below the bottom cupboards. Once secure, he took off the mitt attachments, and untapped the duct tape mouth gag. Sir briefly played with my sore nipples reminding me of the strange but close connection between pain and pleasure. He told me to eat and drink as it would be quite a while before the next meal. Awkwardly I consumed my breakfast while leaning forward on all fours. I had mixed emotions. On the one hand my hunger needs were being met but on the other hand I was helpless and eating like a dog on all fours. The wet diaper and my pitiful skill of being able to feed myself affirmed my helpless. The lack of control felling was also assisted by the frequent maneuvering Sir would make of my body when I was on all fours eating. Sir would also take advantage of slapping my ass covered, urine full diaper when my hips would raise and my head go down to lick food from the bowl. We never exchanged words, actions spoke louder.
When Sir determined that I was finished, he told me to take one last glance at sunlight. I would be spending the remainder of the time in the basement. Securely hobbled but still able to walk, I made my way downstairs with Sir's assistance. Sir took me over to the overhead pulley near the laundry tubs and drain. This area had the most secure hooks and an elaborate pulley system. Sir unhooked the mitts from the neck collar one at a time and connected the mitts to the overheard pulley. Sir waited for a while until my hand were somewhat numb and then removed the mitts, one at a time, and replaced them with hanging gloves. These locking leather gloves had a quick release latch (not accessible to the person hang) and were also able to distribute my weight more evenly than wrist restraints. Once secured, Sir pulled on the pulley and stretched me out until my heels were just lifted off the floor. He returned to the basement door and shut it securely. No light entered from the kitchen and I was proud of the job I had done. He then pulled back the draped black sheet and dimed the basement lights.
Sir approached me and removed my ankle restrains. He then proceeded to lightly feel my body, spending special time on the erotic zones. I felt great relief when Sir removed my diaper and freed my struggling penis. I immediately, however, smelt the embarrassing aroma of stale urine and reflexively moved my head away from the strong uplifting current. Sir, seeing my actions, held the diaper up to my face for me to smell. When I moved my head back, Sir took control of my head and rammed it into the wet diaper. There was nothing I could do. I tried to hold my breath and then found myself struggling to breathe. I was willing to take in any air, no matter what the aroma. Sir then rubbed my face and head in the diaper. Next he did a light wash of my entire body using the wet diaper. I dared not say anything in objection. There was no getting away from the acidic aroma of my pungent urine. He then mentioned that unlike me, he still had a full bladder. Sir located one of the two barstools I had moved into the basement. Placing a barstool in front of me, he stood on the stool and loosened his leather underwear to reveal his penis. With me stretched out over the basement drain; Sir began to urinate over my body from my neck down. He then dismounted from the stool and continued to use my diaper to rub his scent over my skin. I was so pleased when Sir finally disposed of the diaper. I had not expressed a great interest in watersports and did not want this scene to escalate further. When he returned from his disposal, he turned me towards him and had me look directly at him. Sir told me that he had now marked his territory and there was no further question, I was his to use as he wished. I had no further doubts that I belonged to Sir.
Sir allowed me to continue to appraise my situation. My hands were getting extremely tired and Sir mentioned that it was time from me to squat. Sir lowered the pulley system and I was able to sit down on the cold basement floor by the drain. Sir began to explain how the next few days would unfold. I was to do exactly what Sir said, obviously no questions or noise. Sir was a perfectionist, and failure to do as told could result in flaws to Sir's work. Flaws were unacceptable. Sir was disappointed with the mistake I had made this morning. Sir informed me that it would not happen again. To help make this clear in my mind, Sir was going to give me a taste of one type of punishment. Sir emphasized that the punishment was for my own good, to keep me attentive to Sir and to remove any thoughts of disobedience. Sir reached up to the shelf above the laundry basins. I could hear Sir remove an object just before I felt every muscle in my body become tensed, then go into spasms, and finally become completely relaxed. The pain was incredible and as I collapsed, I found myself unable to move. I am sure I would have voided myself of the little I had eaten had the anal plug still not have been inside me. Sir informed me that I had just felt 150,000 volts of electricity surging through my body at once. Sir had picked a less sensitive part of my body, the back of my leg to administer the shock. Sir mentioned that the dampness of the urine had made the jolt a little more painful but this was nothing in comparison to what an electroshock device would be like if applied to a more sensitive part of the body. I clearly understood Sir's drift. As Sir explained the inner functions of the stun gun, Sir touched my genitals with the device, just in case I had not understood. I cringed backward as best I could before realizing Sir had not triggered the device. Needless to say I needed no more convincing.
With me still stretched out on the floor, Sir commanded me to squat on all fours. Sir went behind me and with a quick and smooth motion unceremoniously removed my butt plug. Quick and smooth does not translate to painless and I felt that I had just delivered a small baby. Sir then stated that it was time for us to be up and about. Sir lifted my hands upward with the pulley and continued tension on the pulley until I arose and stood stretched as high as I could go and still be flat footed. I could smell my body order and the stench of urine. Sir started the water from the laundry tube and with the shower head extension, Sir began rinsing me down. The warm water felt so good and refreshing and I appreciated Sir's hands on my body. Sir continued lathering me up with soap and rinsing me from head to toe. Particular time and focus appeared to be taken by Sir on my genitals and ass, and I could see that Sir took great pleasure at being able to control and moderate my erections.
This was the first cleaning. Sir then placed an enema bag with warm soapy water on a hook above my body and proceeded to fill me with the solution. Sir commanded me to hold it until he told me to release. I believe Sir knew exactly how long I could live with the discomfort before Sir allowed me to release. Two more cleansing and I was as clean on the inside as I would ever get. Sir then re-lathered me with soap on the outside and meticulously went over my body with a razor, ensuring that there were not errant hairs.
After the final rinse, Sir began to dry me off with great precision. Sir had even thought to take the warmed towels from the dryer to help to retain my body heat and provide a sense of comfort. It felt so comforting, the feeling of warmth from being dried and the comfort of Sir's hands all over my body. Sir was a master at creating discomfort, only to come to my aid with a great gesture of comfort. In my confused state of mixed emotions, Sir would tell me what I was to feel. True to form, the comfort was short-lived as Sir increased the tension on the pulley system and had me standing on my toes. Sir proceeded to take the non-permanent marker he had me purchase and bisect me at the mid-point along my sides and in a few other apparently critical places. Sir measured my hands and feet and other parts, writing the formulas on my body. My body became a series of lines, points, and numbers. Sir was carefully measuring me up and in the process I responded by getting excited. Sir then proceeded to lower me a bit and went over to the cabinet where I had stored the copious amount of Vaseline containers Sir had requested me to purchase. Being new to this gay thing, I did not question or skimp on the Vaseline. Sir generously covered half my body with copious amounts of Vaseline, keeping within the top half of his lines. Sir then placed ice on my hard penis and I looked down while everything important to me shrunk in rebellion. Sir then wrapped my balls to my penis in Saran and encircled the base of my testicles and penis with duct tape. Once Sir had established a clear circle of duct tape around the base of my privates, Sir continued to tape and entrap the rest of my testicles and penis. The site was strange to see and I quickly realized an erection would be painful as there was no room for expansion.
Sir informed me that the next step in our play was work and not pleasure. Pleasure was a relative term. I was uncertain how Sir made the distinction. Sir went over to the metal table to check that the ¾ inch plywood board was secured properly with the bolts. Sir stated that he wanted no movement to the frame. Sir then covered the plywood with plastic and secured the plastic to the plywood. Next he took out my battery operated drill and some screws and left them in position on the plywood sheet. I was then lowered and provided with clear directions to make my way over to the plywood sheet and lay on my back. I had no desire to try anything since half of me was coated in Vaseline and Sir carried the stun gun at crotch level. Once on the table, Sir directed me to a certain spot and then secured a metal U clamp with screws around my neck to the plywood sheet. The fit was perfect and I realized that this was the reason Sir asked me for my shirt collar size. Although all my limbs were now free to move, with my neck secure to the board, I was not going anywhere.
Whatever Sir was planning to do, this was not his first time. He worked skillfully and without hesitation. First he stretched my body out on the board and then bent my knees up to a specific angle using a large protractor. Sir placed a large spacer between my feet and legs and with everything aligned, marked the outline of my feet on the plastic with a permanent marker. Sir moved my feet toward my stomach and I heard him tack down eight nails. Moving my legs forward again, my toes fit nicely between the nails and retained the preset angle of my legs. Constructing some scaffolding around the bottom of my legs, they were soon relatively immobile and reflected the angles Sir desired and the exact spacing between my legs. Next he began working on my torso. He located the soft clay I had purchased and built up the area around the sides of my chest and buttocks, up from the plastic sheet until the clay reached the bottom line drawn on my body. Sir the braced the clay with side boards to loosely secure my torso in place. Next Sir demanded that I fold my hands in front with one hand on top and the other on the bottom. Sir told me to make a fist with the bottom of the two crossed hands. Sir then proceeded to wrap the fist with Saran and tuck tape. Using a small bead of crazy glue, Sir secured my two arms together in the folded position. Sir constructed a crisscross brace and attached it from the plywood sheet to the height of the bottom of my hands thus providing support for my hands that were extended at 90 degrees from my chest. With a bit more bridging and support, it would be relatively easy for me to keep my hands in Sir's carefully calculated position for an extended time. Sir then rechecked his measurements and the angles of hands and feet to insure that when I would be placed in the completed mold there would be a stable, even base to secure me on all fours.
The easiest way to describe how I now looked would be to visualize me being rotated 180 degrees. Having been inverted, I would be perfectly braced on all fours with both forehands and elbows touching the ground as well as my knees. The lower portion of my legs would be bent upwards with the bottom of my feet parallel to the ceiling. My legs would be spread in a perfect position to allow access from behind to my ass and for me to be fucked. In the all fours position I could also be milked like a cow or be able to service anyone seated by my head.
Sir looked over his work lying on its back on the plywood sheet. Sir made a few final minor adjustments and strengthened a number of temporary braces. I was then delivered clear directions. The initial mold he was building with the art plaster had little structural support. I was not to move a muscle over the next hour. If I believed that this was to be a problem I had permission to speak now. Hearing no objections, Sir continued.
Sir examined the area of my body that had the Vaseline to ensure there were no bare flesh spots existing above Sir's lines. Sir then started at my feet and began applying the art plaster cast material. Sir was careful to apply the cast material no further than the bottom of the line. Sir took his time to allow a little curing of the material before returning to apply a second and third coat. By the time Sir was through Sir had made half a plaster cast from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Sir kept my nose free and just before completing the face area Sir duct taped a large dildo in my mouth to keep my jaw open in a position that would later allow my mouth to be used. In order that I could be freed from the mold, Sir did not complete a small area of the chest directly below my arms as well as the insides of my arms.
I remained perfectly still in this position, with the help of the bracing, and I could feel a couple of fans blowing air across my body. This not only helped to keep me cool and maintain my concentration on being perfectly still, but also decreased the drying time of the art cast material. I estimate that after approximately two hour, Sir began to apply a cover of soft clay over the outside of the mold, smoothing out any roughness. Sir had carefully applied the casts for evenness and smoothness so this process did not take much time. Sir mentioned that he was going to wait another half hour and then I would be able to move my legs and stretch.
After Sir was satisfied with the drying time, Sir carefully wiped the Vaseline from the chest area that was left open and where the cast ended. Sir marked two lines with the non-permanent marker where the inside cast attachment would have to be align. Sir then carefully removed the dildo from my mouth, leaving a perfect circle in the mold. Sir then cautiously loosened the mold from around my body. With all the Vaseline I could feel the cast easily pop away from my skin. Like handling bone china, Sir removed the mold and set it beside me on the plywood. It was a perfect replica of my position, only approximately 1/8 of an inch thicker than my actual body.
Sir then removed the bracing from around my legs and after sliding my feet toward my chest, Sir was able to remove the nails. I was now able, with Sir's assistance to be able to stretch my legs. Sir gave clear instructions, however, that I was not to move my hands. He removed enough bracing that he could work on the inside of my hands. Using the existing lines Sir had drawn on my chest, Sir applied more Vaseline and began working on the inside plaster mold. Sir worked quickly over this small space and before I realized, this small section was complete. Satisfied that the two sections of the mold were perfect, Sir removed the last of the bracing on my arms and I was finally able to put my hands down on my chest; together as they were stilled glued.
Sir unscrewed the metal U brace and with stun gun nearby, carefully helped me up so I would not disturb the molds laid out on the plywood sheet. I was helped to the floor and lay down exhausted. After a brief rest, Sir led me over to the pulley system and after cleaning off the Vaseline on my feet and ankles, proceeded to attach the hanging boots. I was connected to the pulley and my feet were lifted approximately four feet, suspending my body partway in the air. Sir leaned over my face with his crotch close to my mouth and began applying warm soapy water to my glued hands. After lightly drying, Sir used a Q tip dipped in acetate to remove the crazy glue. As part of the skin separated, Sir would roll back the skin and apply more acetate. With Sir's patience, both hands were separated and Sir continued to apply acetone to remove any rough or missed glued parts. Sir then removed the tuck taped fist and gently washed down my hands and arms. Either Sir's gentleness or the blood going to my head gave me the sensation of extreme warmth and comfort. I loved the smell of Sir's leather crotch underwear and even though I was fatigued, I longed to play and be used.
Sir lowered me slightly and reattached the hanging wrist gloves, connected my hands to the pulley system. As Sir continued to lower my feet, he would also lift my hands. Throughout many parts of this operation, I had the incredible horny experience of being suspended by all four limbs. It was a short lived experience, but was not unpleasant, and I was reminded of the old movies where an individual was tied in such a manner and transported by the natives to their village. Eventually I was stretched out by my hands and the leg suspension boots were removed. Sir continued to raise my hands leaving me on my toes. Sir washed me down and soaped me up, removing all the Vaseline. Sir also removed the marker lines and released my penis and balls from the duct tape. Their bondage had served well in providing the proper hole needed in the mold. Sir loosened my outstretched hands slightly and mentioned that play would occur after Sir applied the first coat of fiberglass epoxy. Sir needed time to allow for drying and curing time between coats of fiberglass mat and cloth. I was welcome to watch Sir build my ultimate restraint, a total body cast.
Sir put on one of the plastic aprons I had provided and began to gather the material Sir would need. I cannot describe how sexy Sir looked. I don't think I was necessarily aroused by Sir's physique but rather by how Sir moved and what Sir was doing. I watched as Sir set the fiberglass matt out and cut it in the approximate lengths and widths Sir would require. After putting on gloves, Sir mixed a small quantity of the epoxy and spread it on a section of the mold. Sir then applied the matt fiberglass and gently impregnated the fiberglass with the epoxy by lightly tapping the glass. After applying one coat of fiberglass mat Sir went on and applied a second and third coat. Sir waited until just before the material hardened and bent the bottom overhanging glass to form a lip that would eventually allow the back half of the mold Sir would create to be joined and bolted with this front half. I was impressed with Sir's talent and was also excited about the opportunity of being locked into my own, made to measure, fiberglass prison.
When Sir removed his gloves and apron and turned around, Sir too noticed my excitement. "It will soon be time to play, just as soon as I wash up. Sir checked that I was sufficiently stretching out to make any leverage from my feet impossible. As added security Sir reattached the ankle straps on my feet and secured them to a hook screwed into the drain. I wasn't going anywhere. Sir left me there and, from the noise of water flowing down the upstairs drain pipe, I assumed he was taking a shower to remove any remnants of fiberglass. Later I could hear movement in the kitchen above my head. Sir returned just before I felt I could not stand the hanging any longer. Sir released my hands slightly and fed me a much needed booster juice. With the ankle restrains removed, Sir provided me with another enema, not that I had much to clean out. "Now with the work almost done we will play. It is time to move you into a more comfortable position." he said. This was music to my ears.
Sir had provided me with specific directions on how to build a sawhorse restraint. It was not complicated and I had been proud of what I had accomplished, until I compared it with the work of Sir. The sawhorse was built to face the back basement wall, furthest away from the stairs. It was to be no longer than two inches higher than the length of my legs when I was bent over. The top was to be wide enough to support my weight for long periods of time and the top was to have foam attached for comfort. A hole large enough to suspend my ball and penis was to be placed in the top of the horse. Four loop hooks were to be placed on the four legs. Four small belts were screwed higher up on the sawhorse legs to secure the thighs and forearms. Two large belts were to be available for the hips and chest and two belts for the upper hands. The length of the bench was to be no longer than from my ass to the base of my neck. I was to obtain a 6-way adjustable face cradle and ergonomic face cradle pillow, and drill the two holes needed to be able to insert and secure the face cradle. To prevent any ability of the bottom to tip the sawhorse, I was to obtain a children's wooden sand box and secure the horse to the bottom of the sandbox. I was then to weight the sandbox with sand. What an ingenious restraint device, leaving me fully accessible and able to remain in this position as long as Sir desired with no escape. I could not use leverage to lift my body as my feet did not touch the floor. I also could not rock the sawhorse and tip it since it was attached to a sandbox filled with sand.
Sir locked my wrists together, added ankle restraints, and with the stun gun in hand, led me to the sawhorse. I lifted myself up on my toes and leaned forward using gravity to unceremoniously flop myself on the top of the sawhorse. Sir was quick to lift my ankles and lock them in place on the sawhorse rings. Sir then adjusted my penis and balls to allow them to swing below the horse. I was not going anywhere with the straps secure on my thighs, hips and chest. My arms were unlocked and the wrist restraints were attached, instead of the hanging gloves, to the front of the sawhorse. Sir then adjusted the face cradle to his liking and inserted my head in the hole. Sir secured my head with two straps and tightening them down. This resulted in my face being squished down into the face cradle pillow. By the time Sir had finished, I had almost no movement and ring side seats facing the sandbox. Sir attached a ball parachute to my genitals and placed a small but definitely noticeable weight to my suspended appendage. Sir whispered in my ear that "This should keep you occupied as I clean up and allow the mold to cure in a more airy environment."
I heard Sir open the basement door. Sir had strategically located me in the one position that would not allow me to see what he was doing or receive any knowledge of the light conditions upstairs. I realized that I had no idea of time. The power shakes that Sir had provided gave nourishment and rehydration but never fully allowed me to estimate time by a three meal schedule. Without natural light from the outside, I had no reference, only a best guess. The longer I was down in the basement with no natural light; the worse were my time estimates. I could hear Sir's methodical steps going up the stairs. I assumed that Sir was lugging the fiberglass molds upstairs. Sir came back down a number of other times bringing equipment upstairs. I later heard Sir rip some plastic off the roll and bring it upstairs. I could hear Sir at work using my battery operated jig saw that must have been connected to my shop vac. I could hear Sir sweeping and cleaning up and putting some things away. Sir was like Santa, working on a new prototype at the toy factory to provide great pleasure to an expectant child. Naughty or nice, it made no difference.
Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my ass and realized that I had drifted asleep. Unexpectedly, Sir had paddled my exposed bottom. The shock of the unexpected and the sting of the spank awakened my senses. Sir aggressively paddled my bottom a few more times and told me to stay awake and alert. Sir was going to finish putting another coat of glass on the mold and would be back to work on me while the mold cured. Just these few word of encouragement evoked great excitement and with the movement from the slap, sent my balls swinging. A short time later I heard Sir descend and I felt him lube my penis and balls and he began to gently stroke me. Between Sir's caressing and the weights, my penis quickly stood at attention. Sir stopped, gave me another smack on my bare bottom and waited for my erection to subside. Sir then repeated the process, before telling me that classic line in bondage; "Don't go anywhere."
I tried to stay awake, but gradually felt myself drift asleep. How long I do not know until I felt the sudden sting again of being paddled. My ass was getting sore and sensitive. "Wake up princess." Sir said. I was awake and feeling the repetitive sting of Sir strapping my ass. The pain was verging on unbearable and I am sure my ass looked like Rudolph's nose. Suddenly the strapping stopped and I felt a warm cloth rubbing my sore bottom and then working its way down my ass cheeks. The warmth and moisture was comforting and arousing. Sir then began to work the cloth around my ass hole and gently fingered my hole. I was again aroused and could feel my growing excitement. This arousal did not go unnoticed with Sir. Sir moved over to my face and bend down, washing my face with the warm cloth he had used on my ass. I was mortified and tried to move away. Sir rubbed all the more and mentioned that the ass and rectum get a bum rap. They are cleaner that what one thinks. I was told to relax, feel, and learn. Sir moved to my ass and separated my cheeks. Sir began to stimulate my asshole with Sir's tongue while provide slight stimulation to my genitals. The feeling was unbelievable. I was aroused in a manner I have never felt before but was skillfully not allowed to pass the threshold. This continued for what felt as an eternity and when Sir stopped. No this is much too soon.
Sir moved to my head and removed the straps and pulled out the face cradle. My head was now suspended in air, supported only by my muscles. Sir brought one of the barstools over and positioned his bottom right up to my face. As I leaned my forehead on Sir's cheeks, I knew what to do. I worked my tongue around and into Sir's ass hole, Sir told me that I had learned well and guided me on ways to perform better. I was so proud of what I could do for Sir. Sir then explained that this was foreplay, and now for the main course. Sir turned around and placed my chin in his lap. Sir explained that my first blow job had been good but now Sir would help me become a better bottom. Sir manipulated my head as I manipulated Sir's head. Sir began gradually and helped me adjust to taking in more of his cock without stimulating my gag reflex. Sir talked to me about the use of my tongue and lips as well as the need to use my breath and moisture. After quite some time I felt Sir explode and cum in my mouth. I greedily swallowed and continued to lick Sir's cock clean. It was an unbelievable feeling to have satisfied My Sir. I wanted to do nothing else. Sir patted me on the head and restored the face cradle and restrains to my head. Sir's words of "well done" resonated in my ears and caused my emotions to soar.
While I still had these unexplainable extreme feelings of attachment toward Sir, I felt Sir again working my ass with his fingers and playing with my balls and cock. Sir applied more lube and between I don't know how many hills and valleys, I was finally allowed to ejaculated with such a force I felt I would snap my bounds. I was exhausted. Sir told me to rest and that there was a lot more in store for me. Sir gently told me I was his great little bitch pup. I close my eyes while Sir needed to go upstairs and continue the work. Only if I had an emergency related to safety did have permission to call and Sir would be within hearing distance. Now I was completely relaxed and spent. I could feel the weight of my arms and legs, since they had been hanging there for such a long time. I could feel the rhythm of my breathing. All was at peace. My thoughts drifted to the events of the last while causing a twinge of excitement in my cock as I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep. My mouth was full of Sir and satisfied. I could not imagine what else was in store for me.
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