Date: Wed, 9 May 2012 15:27:29 +0000
From: gaggedboundforyou@hotmail.com
Subject: More Than What I Could Have Imagined Chapter 2

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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