Beach Combing by Rowantree F/m; bond; latex; nc; X

Sunlight, of that particularly colour leaching quality, streamed through the large picture windows that formed one long wall of a studio of some description. The room was large, sparsely furnished and decorated in those minimalist colours so favoured by interior designers that take their inspiration from the seaside. Some of the windows were open, allowing the penetrating fingers of a fresh sea breeze to circulate the room, cool enough to raise goose bumps on naked skin and contrasting with the bright sunlight of this warm spring morning. The open windows also allowed the sound of the sea to be heard: birds, surf and the sound of the breeze sighing through long grasses on the top of the dunes, all hinting at a wild freedom currently denied to the young man who now lay patiently, if anxiously on a table.

His pose casual, belying the inner turmoil that his predicament had precipitated. Although the view from the picture windows was stunning, he was unable to enjoy it. For around each wrist and ankle was a bright silver band of metal, decorated with delicate and intricate designs set against a lining of deep black latex. The artistic character of the restraints did nothing to compromise their true purpose. Each restraint was locked to a short length of silver chain which in turn was secured to rings of steel under the table. Thus fettered hand and foot, his ability to reach the window was impaired. To call for help was impossible, he had been gagged too, so sound would not escape from the open windows to alert a passing walker. No, this was a one-way trip and self-determination was denied by another that held the keys.

Adrian pondered how easily he had been manoeuvred into such a compromising situation. On one of his regular walks along the beach, somewhere between his home and the harbour, he had chanced upon a local artist who was sat in a shallow hollow in the dunes where playful sea breezes could not disturb his painting palette and canvases. Adrian recognised the artist as a regular visitor to the beach and as someone whose watercolour paintings were popular with tourists that flocked to the small town during the long warm summer months. Adrian greeted the artist with a smile and said how much he liked the partly finished painting. In fact Adrian liked this man's work and wished that he could afford to buy some of it. However it commanded high prices and rarely lingered in the local boutiques for very long. He said as much to the artist.

“Well,” the artist had replied, “I am looking for someone to model for me, for a special commission that I have.” He looked Adrian up and down for a few seconds. Adrian shifted uncomfortably, unused to the intense scrutiny.

“You have a good figure,” the artist had commented enigmatically. “I need a person that is attractive and I see that you fit the bill perfectly. If you're willing, I would be happy to reward you for your time. It may be possible for you to own some of my work after all!”

Flattered, Adrian had unsuccessfully pressed the man for more details of what would be required of him. It turned out that his home and studio were located at another small fishing village about two miles away.

“The house is called Sandsend,” is all that the artist would say. “Pop over some next week and I will give you more details. Tuesday morning would be ideal. There's no need to bring anything with you, just yourself.” With that, he turned back to his easel and brushes.

Oh, so simple was the hook. The promise of a watercolour painting or two to decorate his small flat was bait that proved to be too much to resist. After all, modelling for an artist is unlikely to be strenuous work. Or was it?

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As Adrian contemplated the chains that uncompromisingly secured him to the table, he reflected on how easily he had been reeled in and the conflicting emotions that chased each other around his mind. On his arrival at the artist’s home that morning, he had been greeted by an older woman, someone certainly too old to be the artist's wife. She introduced herself as Maria, assistant and housekeeper. “No, he was not married and he lived at Sandsend on his own.” was her sole reply to Adrian 's questions. Maria dour, humourless and reluctant to make small talk. She escorted Adrian through the house and up a flight of stairs to a second level that overlooked an enormous living-room which opened out onto a sand covered terrace.

Indicating a door to the left, she said, “You may be a while in the studio so you may wish to visit the bathroom.” She was waiting impatiently for him when he emerged a few minutes later, her face showing little other emotion. At the end of the balcony was the artist's studio which overlooked flowing sand dunes and miles of silver beach. Adrian gasped in surprise when he entered for the room was light and spacious; clearly an attractive place to work. Technology rubbed shoulders with object d’art in a minimalist setting. His heart did a double flip of suspicion when he saw the bed. An enormous wooden frame of bleached wood, carefully made up with a deep mattress and cream-coloured sheets and pillows, occupied one side of the room. Just as Adrian was about to wander over to the large windows, Maria had grabbed him by the arm and steered him over to a low table, the very one that he now sat on.

“You must be ready for my master when he arrives. There is much work to do,” she had explained.

He reflected uncomfortably on how easily he had allowed the woman to coax him into removing his clothing; well she had taken the lead and unbuttoned his shirt before he could protest, revealing his smooth, nearly hairless chest.

Master?

Was it unreasonable that the artist would have a commission to paint a picture of the nude male form for some discerning client? It would seem that the client's wishes were particularly unusual when he was presented with the silver-steel bracelets which were quickly slipped over his hands and clicked shut about his wrists. He began to regret his involvement when chains were produced from under the table and locked onto the restraints before he could put up effective resistance. He had gasped a profanity in shock at the sudden turn of events and he recalled the difficulty he had in expressing his growing outrage and was lost for words – nearly - for once in his life.

“Shush!” Maria had admonished him. Shushing was the last thing that Adrian intended to do and said so, loudly. His resistance was easily countered by Maria. She tugged on the chains, looping them around some fixing under the table that Adrian could not see, pinning him to the table. She pinched his nose, painfully, he recalled, and waited until he took a gasping breath through his mouth, opening it sufficiently to allow Maria the opportunity to stuff a small rubber ball into his mouth. The straps of the ball gag were buckled behind his head.

His ankles were fettered and chained to the table, making it easy for Maria to complete her preparations. She clicked her tongue in disgust at the thick fuzz of hair that covered his groin as she clipped it away with sharp scissors, Adrian barely daring to move in case she slipped! Soap and a safety razor took care of the rest, leaving him feeling particularly exposed, a nakedness he couldn’t believe existed.

Strangely enough, the rather brusque and ungentle handling at the hands of Maria had left him unmoved, his cock never rising to the occasion as he muffled objections from around his gag.

“You will wait here!” instructed Maria, when she had finished. Adrian was too preoccupied to even notice how incongruous that statement was. Maria had gathered up his discarded clothing and left the room.

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So there he sat, smarting a little at the humiliation and contemplating his shaved groin and legs; wondering what fate awaited him. The shortened chains prevented his subconscious desire to explore the unfamiliar smooth baldness of his groin and thighs. Who were these people? And what sort of client would commission an artist to produce such work that would require a bound and shaved model? This was something he could not report or complain to the authorities about. He had arrived at the house of his own free will and if this ‘preparation’ was part and parcel of the commission he had agreed to assist with, he didn't have a leg to stand on. It was strangely sexy, in a way, being bound, gagged and shaved against his will.

Special commission?

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if modelling was probably a ruse to get him to the house for some darker purpose. The clue had been in the artist's assessment of his physique, yet in his enthusiasm, Adrian had missed the clue. As he looked about the studio and drank in the details; the powerful computer, a flat screen monitor positioned on one wall and that large and now ominous bed, he could not see any other objects that would suggest he was in any particular danger. A couple easels leaned against the wall together with tripods of some description. The table upon which he sat was covered in a black material that had a slight shine to it. It smelled of latex safety gloves and then Adrian realised that it was composed of latex. His white torso, legs and upper arms, and the silver chains that bound him to it, contrasted markedly against the black.

The door opened. In a flourish the artist stepped in, dressed in a plain white shirt and tight black jeans.

Master??

“Hello Adrian . I am pleased you could make it,” he said. “I see that Maria has made you welcome. I trust you have not been too uncomfortable or surprised. You see, I have some unusual clients that like to purchase my photography which is quite, er, unusual.” He paused at the look of astonishment on Adrian 's face.

Unusual clients?

“Yes, I did say photography. You thought you were posing for a painted picture. Well pictures are created on media other than canvas or paper. I make my real money from selling my photography. I have sought a new model with your physique and I have been observing you on the beach for some time now. You very kindly saved me the trouble of having to engineer some way of approaching you without appearing suspicious. I think you will be an excellent addition to my stable.

“Anyway, before we get to work I would like to show you some of my photography, so you have an idea of what we will be doing today and where the finished result will be going.”

Excellent addition and did he say ‘stable’?

The artist fired up the powerful PC. As the monitor lit up, so to the large screen on the wall. Adrian sat, mute and fascinated whilst he waited for the artist to finish selecting some files. A series of images appeared on the wall monitor; images of men, young men. In various poses dressed in a variety of fashion clothes with expensive labels.

“ As you may have gathered, I prefer to photograph male models.”

More images appeared. These shocked Adrian by their explicitness. Images of men being dominated by both men and women in clothing that he never imagined could exist. Images of men in solo poses wearing severe collars, chains and various body piercings; some clearly subjected to pain, others experiencing some sort of ecstasy that Adrian could not fathom. Most of the images were in black-and-white which added to the sexual drama so beautifully captured in each one. His eyes lingered on a shot of a finely muscled specimen whose penis had been pierced through the foreskin in two places and fitted with a metal ring. To that ring was clipped a padlock and long chain which reached the floor. Adrian shivered at the thought of being pierced through the head of his penis, with a chain locked to it and with release controlled by another.

Another matrix of images appeared on the screen, this time from a web site.

“I share some of my photography with a company that sells adult toys,” explained the artist. “And not the cheap tacky stuff either, not the kind of thing that you would find sold in the average ‘private shop’. These toys are for what can only be described as advanced lovemaking.” He laughed, clearly enjoying Adrian ’s astonishment. “I think you will enjoy modelling some of them. After we spoke the other day I took the liberty of ordering some additional items from Sax Leather that will suit you perfectly. Sax Leather will publish good photographs of people wearing and using its stuff. This gallery of photographs are some of mine. Who knows? Some pictures of you might appear on here as well as some magazines and maybe in the private collection of a client or two. As time goes on and we develop a good working relationship, I may need you to adopt some of the body decoration that you see here. It very much depends on how my clients receive you!”

Receive? And what’s did he mean by body decoration? Not piercing?

Adrian shivered again as he studied the images that the artist clicked his cursor on to enlarge them. The submissive poses and sexual humiliation communicated by those raw and uncompromising pictures were brutally erotic in a way that he could not fathom. He caught himself mentally picturing himself in some of them but wondered at the pain and humiliation and if he could go through it, assuming he was in any position to withdraw. His heart thumped and with shame as hot as fire coral, he looked away from the wall monitor and those disturbing images.

The artist suddenly took on a brisk attitude, swiftly setting up studio lights and a couple of digital cameras on hefty tripods. Cables were connected to various PC boxes and drapes were pulled across the windows. The artist then rubbed oil onto his hands to warm it and proceeded to massage it over Adrian 's body, paying particular attention to his groin, thighs, legs and chest, making his smooth body shine and glisten with the slippery oil. The attention was electrifying because the artist had firm, strong masculine hands, eliciting sensations that he had never experienced from a girlfriend. Under normal circumstances Adrian would never have envisaged ever allowing any man such intimate contact, but his arousal was swift and hard as his face was red with humiliation and preventing it any of it was impossible. Chains rattled. Some massage oil dripped onto the table, the artist wiping it over to give the latex covering a glossy shine.

Oh, Hell and I can’t get away! What ‘clients’ would want pictures of me like this?

“Excellent,” exclaimed the artist. “A model that is not clearly aroused will be of no interest! I imagine that you are going through that strange mix of emotions that are telling you that this is all wrong and your arousal is shameful whilst at the same time you are turned on and excited by my pictures, the thought of being published like this and you’ll be in wonder and excited by what is to come. I like the way you enjoyed my attention. This could become quite interesting!”

As Adrian mmmfff-ed a weak denial at the artist’s surprisingly accurate appraisal of his thoughts, photograph after photograph was taken of Adrian lying on that table. Close-ups of his penis followed by pictures of his ankles and wrists secured by the silver fetters. The artist slackened the chains slightly to allow Adrian to pose in different positions whilst the artist photographed him against that shiny black background, from the front and from behind. The atmosphere was electric, the sexual tension that Adrian was experiencing was successfully captured with pixels. As each picture was taken, leads from the cameras to the PC enabled each one to be viewed on the wall monitor. For the young man, who was finding it exciting and humiliating to see pictures of himself in graphic detail, helplessly naked, exposed and chained; the images symbolised his reluctant submission, clearly in the control of another.

Master??

As the afternoon wore on, Maria joined them in the studio. At the artist's bidding she placed neat loops of black rope around Adrian 's ankles, securing it with a neat knot. She then released Adrian 's ankles from the chains, one at a time before making him bend his leg so that she could secure the loose end of the ankle rope around his thighs. A second rope was looped above and below the knees, creating a strict frog-tie. Adrian looked on in fascination as Maria swiftly completed the ties and the artist continued to take photographs. The juxtaposition of an aroused and bound young man being further tied by a conservatively dressed, grey-haired woman was captured and displayed on the wall monitor.

She continued to refine his bondage. From a pocket in the front of her dark grey dress she extracted a thick metal ring. It came apart as two semicircles of chrome steel. Reaching forward, she grasped Adrian 's balls, stretching them forcibly away from his penis so that the metal ring would fit around the top of the scrotal sack. Adrian twitched violently at the kiss of cold, heavy metal on his naked genitals and the sudden pressure as his balls were forcibly pulled away from his body. The ring was secured together with a tiny Allen key. A second, different one followed, secured between his body and scrotal sack so it lay against his groin. Satisfied with her work and the mute look of discomfort on Adrian 's face, she turned her attention to his chest, applying nasty-looking clamps to his erect nipples as he tried to squirm away. The clamps were tightened until they pinched. A chain linked the two clamps together. The artist expressed his approval as he continued to operate his camera.

The twist in these new developments came when the tabletop was raised at one end and Adrian slid on the oiled latex surface until suspended by his wrists and arms. He wriggled and protested as the table top was raised to an angle of 60° by some mechanism in the base. The artist returned to his camera and continued to photograph his model, concentrating on his distended balls which were weighed down by heavy chrome rings. Maria, in the meantime, had pulled on a pair of long, black latex gloves and was teasing the head of Adrian ’s penis, pulling back the foreskin and attaching small spring loaded clamps to the sensitive inside surface of his foreskin. She continued to pile on the pressure and sensual pain by adding small weights to the chain linking the nipple clamps. The artist photographed the mixed looks of discomfort, pain and sexual pleasure on Adrian 's face.

Body decoration?

Then to his absolute astonishment, Maria pulled off her dress to reveal a slim body encased in black latex which had the effect of making her appear young. The latex disguised the ravages of time and age on her skin. She stepped up to the unfortunate young man and proceeded to rub herself up and down his taut body, playing with the chain between his nipples and his tortured balls. She whispered in his ear, “I think you are really enjoying this!”

Adrian 's eyes bulged slightly at this comment. She continued, “I could take you into some really forbidden territory if you like.” Adrian was in no doubt what could be particularly forbidding about what she was suggesting.

“I have an interesting little device in leather which I could model for you,” she said. “Let’s see what you make of this.” 

Turning away from her tortured subject she reached under the table and pulled up a strappy garment into which she stepped and pulled up to her waist. It looked to Adrian like some perverted G-string until she revealed the second object. The smooth, pink latex dildo riveted his attention as she slowly pushed it through the hole of the black strap-on. Whispered instructions passed between the artist and Maria, instructions which Adrian could not hear. The artist helped to tighten her strap-on before she turned to Adrian once again, offering him the bizarre (to him) sight of a grey-haired woman in a black latex bodysuit and a pink penis. 

The next half-hour was purgatory for Adrian as she posed against him for multiple photographs including several where she positioned herself in such away that she could easily penetrate him with that strange pink device. At no time did he know if she would go further than the gentle touching of his anus with the hard blunt top, knowing that in his suspended position he could do nothing to prevent it.

Eventually, the artist called a stop to proceedings and Maria retreated, removing the strap-on and pulling her dress back over her latex clad body. She turned and kissed Adrian firmly on his cheek before whispering, “Next time I go all the way!”

Adrian then decided in his own mind, as he suffered the agony of his nipples being released from the clamps and his balls from the excruciating ring, that he would not return and be subjected to such humiliation again, no matter how much of a turn on it was. It was as if the artist could read his mind for he turned away from his PC to face Adrian . Maria stepped out of the room, clearly on some undefined errand.

Go all the way?

“You may be amazed to hear that a couple of pics I have taken today have been e-mailed to a few people already. I have had a quick response from one which would suggest our alliance will be successful. I really would like you to return for further sessions. I really hope you have enjoyed this one, but judging from your dick, I think you have found it an enlightening experience. Anyway, Maria has taken quite a shine to you and she would be most disappointed if you did not return, least for her.”

Adrian was determined that he would not return, to experience further humiliating sexual attention from an older woman. As his mind ran through a helter-skelter of emotions, Maria re-entered the room with two small boxes in her hand, one in pink leather. She operated at the controls that lowered the tabletop until it was horizontal once again. The plain box was placed on the tabletop beside Adrian 's thigh and opened with her slim, latex covered hands, Adrian looked on anxiously. When he saw it, it took his breath away. The object was a thing of beauty, fashioned from chrome steel, leaving little to the imagination regarding its function.

“This,” she whispered to Adrian , “is an insurance policy. It will ensure your compliance when you are next summoned to the house.” As Adrian 's arousal slowly faded away with that news, a triumphant Maria slid the insurance policy into place, the kiss of cold chrome finishing off his erection. A small but strong padlock clicked into place, leaving Adrian resigned to his fate – frustrated and embarrassed. As she held up some keys for him to see, he knew have to face the full length of that pink dildo after all, if release, was ever to be a possibility again.

The other box, the pink one, was handed to him as he prepared to leave Sandsend. Inside, he discovered a beautiful original, a miniature painting in oil. Nestling against it was another object together with a sheaf of explicit instructions which made him go pale with shock. With a peck on the cheek, Maria pushed him out the door…

14.02.06