This is something I decided to write this little tale after I reread a story I had done quite a while back: "When You Get What You Think You Want" in the bondage section. You should read that story first to really get this one. But, in short, a guy named Jeremy had taken some pictures of me several years before and threatened to use them to force me to return to bondage by him. Now to the story:

I had almost forgotten my friend, Barb, who had moved away a few years ago; and her former husband, Jeremy, who had caught us together. My life by now had become almost too normal.

And then the phone call.

I did not recognize the teasing voice of the male caller. Finally, he said, "You remember me taking the pictures of you, don't you?" And then it rushed back over the years. Jeremy!! And his threat!

"Uh, is this Jeremy?"

"Yup. Good you remembered. Do you remember the pictures I took and what I said about them?"

It came back to me; what I had almost forgotten. I thought that the threat had long passed the danger of being used against me. Now I suddenly knew better. I suspected that I should not anger Jeremy by denying the memory. "Yes, I had almost forgotten, but I remember."

"And, Strand, what do you remember me saying. Tell me! Don't give me any crap or you will be so sorry."

"I don't recall the exact words, but you wrote on one of the pictures that you would spread the pictures around if I did not respond to you when you told me to meet you again."

"That's pretty close. And what do you think I intend to do if and when we meet again? Tell me, man, and make it right!"

It sounded to me as if Jeremy was about to activate his long forgotten threat. The short time he had held me and Barb - especially me - as bound captives came flooding back. I remembered how he - a much inferior physical specimen to me - had raped me while I was helpless. I just could not say about the rape because it was just too humiliating. But I said, "I guess you intend to tie me up and do whatever you want to me." And, in saying those words, I began to feel the former humiliation . . . and the stirrings of a strange sexual arousal, even though I was - am - straight and had been raped right in front of my friend, Barb.

"That's right. I've been out of town, but I'm back now; and it was a kick to find you at the same old address with the same old telephone number. So, bud, it's Thursday. I'll be by tomorrow night about seven. Clear your calendar for the weekend. And don't try anything to get out of it."

"But, Jeremy, I . . . ."

"No 'buts' asshole. Be there and be naked."

And then Jeremy was off the phone. And I had no idea of how to contact him to make an alternate arrangement. And the whole weekend??? I knew I had no choice. Good thing the weekend was clear.

Until Friday evening when Jeremy was to arrive, I went over in my mind all that had happened so long ago. Jeremy had returned to Barb's apartment as I lay on her floor, willingly bound and gagged by her hand. He had been a smallish man, but had slipped Barb a drugged drink, tied her up, and then raped me in front of her when she woke. He had not really harmed me. He had taken several pictures of us both. I had always been excited by the notion of being tied up, and his raping me was new and terrifying, but also humiliatingly exciting as I watched Barb watching me while I got it from behind. Finished with me, Jeremy had arranged for Barb to be able to get loose in a while, and had left. It had been a while later that Barb showed me the pictures Jeremy had taken of me, with one having the threat written on the back. I knew that Jeremy was definitely gay, and that he had me right where he wanted me, even as I thought about it before I was actually bound and helpless.

I had been doing pretty good financially, and had pretty good furnishings and a very large tv, which I often used to watch bondage videos of young women from one of the many better internet sites. Funny thing was, that when I watched them, I identified with the lovely captives rather than the men and women who dominated them. No, I had no desire to actually be a woman, or to dress as one, but I did get excited by the thoughts of what they must be feeling. And now it would soon happen to me. Somehow, there seemed to be no dread, except the fact that I would be helpless in my own home and could be easily robbed. Oh well . . .

I dared not disobey Jeremy's order to be naked when he arrived. After all, I suspected that he would not have the incriminating pictures with him. I'd been had. So, I was bare assed when my door knocker sounded his arrival. I recognized him through the peephole. "Come on in, Jeremy."

Now that I was standing - I had been on the floor when we had "met" before - Jeremy was even smaller than I recalled. I would easily be able to fight him and win, then call the cops and accuse him of housebreaking. And then the pictures would come to the fore.

Jeremy looked me up and down as he set down a duffel bag. I was embarrassed by my semi erect cock. After he grinned and looked at me and accused me of maybe looking forward to his visit, we sat and actually had a fairly civil conversation, in which, among other things, he told me that he had learned that Barb had remarried well. Then he looked around the room and said, "Well, Strand, it looks like you are doing pretty well too. You must be a pretty smart guy. Big and strong looking too. You must feel pretty crummy in letting a guy like me get the best of you. Don't feel too bad; you aren't the first. I like taking big, smart guys like you for a fall."

"So, Jeremy, do you usually do it with pictures like this?"

"Not exactly. Usually use drugs to begin the action; like I did with Barb. Then the pictures if I have to. Just about always the guys are gay doms who think they are going to use me. Well, I sure fool them. You, my friend, are obviously straight though, by what I saw of you with Barb. And that makes you special."

"Special how?"

"Special because you represent all the straight guys who have lorded it over my kind for so long. Yeah, I know, gay is kind of 'in' now; but, admit it, you think we are inferior. Right?"

"Not right now, Jeremy."

"You got that right, my friend. Now, stand up and turn around and put your hands behind your back. You know the drill."

There was no messing around by Jeremy. He knew what he was doing. Almost instantly, he had a pair of steel handcuffs on my wrists behind my back. I had seen him giving the eye to my short, sturdy wooden coffee table. As soon as he had me cuffed, he reached between my legs, squeezed my balls and told me to get on my face on the table. As soon as I was down, he spread my legs wide and tied my ankles to the legs at one end of the table. Then he roped my torso down to it. Then a rope around my neck (a no no, but this is a fantasy) and to the legs at the other end, so my head was hanging over the end. Next came some sort of metal gag which held my mouth wide open, and, when strapped to my head, could not be expelled or even loosened. Finally, he put a thick, leather blindfold over my eyes, shutting out all vision and even any light at all.

With my legs tied apart, my ass was terribly vulnerable to what he had done to me a long time before. And I knew he would again. With my face down and the gag holding my mouth wide, I knew that I was vulnerable there also. And I knew that I would probably soon become not only a "piece of ass," but a cocksucker too.

Jeremy, when he had me down and out, said, "Now, lots of time for fun, so I guess I will look around at your goodies." With that, I sensed his presence no longer looming over me, but heard him wandering and rummaging through my home. Every now and then, he would comment: "Nice stuff." "Great tv." "Hey, look; copies of the pictures. Barb must have given these to you."

I had hidden those pictures pretty well, so knew that Jeremy was going through my home thoroughly. I knew that he and cohorts could back a truck up and take it all, leaving me as I was indefinitely. But I somehow knew that was not going to happen.

Then, after a while, I heard the tv come on, and then the soul of a familiar bondage video. Then laughter. Then, "Hey, I never thought of that; I think that I'll do that to you after the other things." I knew what he was referring to: a sequence in which the tightly tied actress was interrogated as she was anally threatened.

And then, Jeremy returned to me. "Know what this is, Strand? Oh, that's right, you can't see, can you? Well, I am as naked as you now, and this is my cock and balls. You like?" I felt something warm against my face, and knew that I was near oral rape.

Over the course of the next three or four hours, Jeremy taunted me as he raped my mouth, recovered, fucked my behind, recovered, and used my mouth again. As far as I could tell, he at least used condoms.

Then, he released me from the table, led me to the toilet and let me pee. Then he removed the gag and let me drink some water. Then he gagged me again, this time with some sort of bit between my teeth, and tied my handcuffed wrists strappado style to something above, which turned out to be the beam above the doorway into my kitchen. He then whipped me with something stinging and flexible - I have no idea what. Maybe my own yardstick.

After the whipping, the interrogation began. As I was still bound and blindfolded, but with the gag removed, Jeremy began the questions. It took what seemed like hours. He made me confess what Barb and I had done before and after he had been with us so long ago. He questioned my childhood and very first bondage games. He drew out of me many of my ridiculous fantasies about capturing women, and what I would do to them. And then threatened the same to me, with obvious biological differences. Eventually, Jeremy even made me confess one of my deepest fantasies: to have my balls bound.

And then he did tie a loop around my testicles and led me through my home by the makeshift leash.

The strange thing is, that Jeremy's terrible treatment of me never really caused any injury, and seemed to make me feel something like a powerful super hero or something, who had been overcome by overwhelming odds. In my humiliating and debasing captivity and repeated rape and torture, I somehow felt a different sense of freedom and empowerment. In one of my videos, a tightly hogtied model asked how she felt, and she answered, "somehow empowered." I now knew what she meant.

Jeremy appeared physically slight, but he had almost unlimited endurance. By Sunday afternoon, I had lost count of the times I was used. I would never again wonder what it might be like to be a helpless, bound and tortured captive, forced to endure what I never would otherwise.

Through the entire time, he had, of course, once again made innumerable pictures of my distress. These he told me he would email me for my amusement. And to keep me on his leash.

Jeremy left me still naked and with my hands now tied by rope behind my back. He left me gagged with a pair of jockey shorts from my dirty clothes hamper, tied very tightly in place with my best silk necktie. He had removed the blindfold and showed me where he left a knife on the floor several feet away, which I could roll or squirm to.

The last words I heard were, "Thanks Strand; you have been a great host and piece of ass. And piece of face. Haw".

It's been a few days now since Jeremy left. I seem to have already sublimated the really bad parts of my captivity; though, to be honest, there were few. I seem now to be beginning to miss the attentions, and the strange freedom of losing my freedom. Jeremy did not threaten me with the pictures, though I knew they were "out there." Already, I almost hope I will receive another phone call. From Jeremy.

Or from one of his friends with whom he said he would share the pictures of me.

I do hope that this story will amuse someone of Gromet's readers. If it does, I hope you will let me know. I know that there are those among you who are both gay and straight, and I would enjoy hearing from both.

02.02.11