by Alcore

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2015 - Alcore - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbm; F/m; naked; hood; bfold; cuffs; chain; spreadeagle; bed; tease; denial; gag; cons; X

(This is a repost - The original lives at: )
(The following is a work of fiction... but it contains nothing that could not be real under other circumstances.)

Yesterday, when I was discussing this with my best friend, the conversation was straight to the point.

He asked: "You know, you've done this before. And you've gotten hurt every time. Heck, you've even done this with HER before. What makes you think it will go any differently this time?"

At this point however, the question is now moot. There's no longer anything I can do about it...

That's not to say that I didn't have a reply for him: "We're older now. I've grown. I know so much more about myself now. I have stronger limits, and I know how to say 'no' when I need to now..."

Such a load of crap. I *want* this. I *NEED* this. I've got plenty of time to think about what I should have said now. And the truth is a physical reality all around me...

He didn't believe me when I answered him yesterday either. "You *DO* remember what it did to your friendship with her last time, right? You *DO* remember all the hours I sat next to you here in the bar and listened to how you'd screwed up the greatest and must fun relationship you've ever had, right?"

He had a point. I evaded it. "It'll be fine this time. We *BOTH* regretted not being ready last time."

And now here I am. Thinking about it, because there's nothing else I can do.

When I arrived at her apartment, there was a note on the door telling me to let myself in... and ANOTHER note inside, telling me that this was serious, that she'd understand if I didn't want to go back here, that I was free to go and we'd meet for lunch on Monday like we always did... But if I was serious...

I would have one more chance to change my mind. Only one... Only now, I was really questioning whether I'd ever really had a choice at all. Because under the circumstances, I no longer had a PHYSICAL choice...

The note said to follow it's instructions and take whatever time it took, to think about it.

I have no idea how long ago that was now.

I am wearing a hood, with no eye holes, on top of a blindfold that was probably effective enough by itself. And there are earbuds in my ears, under the hood. They are connected to a tiny mp3 player, clipped to the side of the hood. It's playing the sound of the Victoria Falls, washing out all the background noise. I was about as separated from sensing the world around me as it is possible to be, and I lost my sense of time a while ago.

And that wasn't going to change. The hood was locked. I remember my excitement as I'd squeezed the little lock shut, my first point of no return. I had spent a lot of time thinking about that now...

There were, however, other reasons I couldn't do anything about it.

Around each wrist and ankle was locked a cuff. Each was comfortable enough. Like the hood, none of them were coming off. Each was perfectly fitted, secure, and effective.

There had already been chains coming from the 4 corners of her bed. I remember shopping at Home Depot one Saturday a few weeks ago, and asking what she was buying it for. She'd said "Hanging Plants"... Now I was attached in a taught spreadeagle, each cuff locked to a different chain. The instructions had been specific about making sure I got myself locked down nice and tight. I'd followed them. There was no amount of stretching against those chains that would let me even touch the side of my head.

I've spent a LOT of time now wondering why I'd gone ahead and done it.

I think my friend had captured it best with his final comment in our conversation: "You're crazy. Give me a call if you need help later. I'll be there."

Given that I can't even scratch the side of my head, I don't think I'll be calling him anytime particularly soon.

Oh yeah, and in addition to all the locked stuff I'm wearing, I'm NOT wearing any clothes. Stripping down for this had left me horny, and expectant.

I've been through several cycles of desperation and arousal and subsidence now.

I've settled into "mildly horny"... and a little bit chilled. I'm not covered by anything, and now that my physical exertions getting into position are long past, and the cycles of me fighting my restraints because I was ready to change my mind were behind me, It seemed to be getting a little cooler in the room.

As with everything else, there's NOTHING I can do about it other than think about it.

As time passes I start to daydream sensations and almost-sounds that aren't really there...

Until, suddenly, they are.

The bed rocks under me, and I feel you touching my chest with your hand. I want to speak, but you put a finger to my lips.

"Not yet... shhhh...."

She touches me all over... Well almost. Although I've sprung back to full staff, she touches no part of my "boy parts". I pull. I squirm. I am forbidden to speak, but I can't help that I'm starting to growl and moan.

And you stop.

"You are almost ready. I'll be back soon."

She's already gone from my ability to sense her before I comprehend what she was doing. I am alone again.

I wail...

and then the waiting resumes.

Time. More time... Thinking.

The chill is returning. I am clear. I know what I want.

I feel the bed rock again... You straddle my body on your knees and I feel a strange object I can't identify pressed into my right hand. Then I feel a key-ring pressed into my left hand.

"I promised you in the note that you would have one more chance to change your mind. This is it. In your left hand are the keys that unlock everything. With effort, you should be able to let yourself loose with them. It'll take some time though, and by the time you do, I'll be elsewhere. I won't see you on Monday. It'll take me some time to cope. But we'll be ok."

"In your right hand is a gag. You know what gags do. If I use it on you, you're done talking. You will be completely in my power."

"The time of thinking is over now. But you might still have some questions. If so ask them now. I'll answer them. When you have the answers you need, make your choice. Drop either the keys or the gag. The one you keep is your choice and will be used..."

My mind churned. I had only one question...

"Do you love me?"

I feel hot wet drops fall on my chest as you react. Then you speak...

"Of course I do, you fat idiot. Why do you think..."

I can hear her joy and exasperation with me...

I drop the keys.


You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum