Part 1 The Initiation
Walker Potsakoff (who his friends called Pots) lived in a quiet neighborhood with his wife, Carol. Their daughter recently married had moved away with her new husband leaving Pots and Carol alone in their now quiet house. Pots taught algebra to high school students, and looked forward to retirement in twelve to fifteen years. His life was quiet and peaceful. Carol worked at a local department store as a clerk and also enjoyed her job. In general, the Potsakoff family had settled into a pleasant routine that they assumed would continue unaltered for years.
The only friction, if one could call it that, was that sex in Pots' life had cooled considerably over the years. At first his wife was eager and obliging, but she lost interest even before their daughter was born. The talked about it, briefly, and the best she could express was that she was looking for something more - something to excite her. Pots was at a loss to full that need, and so he resigned himself to perfunctory sex now and then - whenever she would agree.
One day Pots read about the robbery in his morning newspaper. According to the article, the previous evening a pedestrian in the Gardentown stripmall had noticed the door to the Capital Appliance Store unlocked and somewhat ajar at a time when the store should have been closed. Going inside, the young man found storeowner Charles Lim tied up in the back of the store. Police came at once and released Lim who said that thieves - or maybe it was one thief – had entered the store and had bound him, then searched for something for a while, and then they left leaving him still tied. Pots carefully read the article again and again. He was very interested, because Charles Lim was his next-door neighbor.
The Lims, Charles and his diminutive wife, Chaing, had lived next to the Potsakoffs for over ten years. Pots and Charlie were friendly, but were not what anyone would call close. The neighbors got along well, but the childless Lims more or less went their own way and did not see the Potsakoffs socially.
Pots set the newspaper aside, so that he could read the article again later. And he made a mental note to casually ask Charlie Lim about his experience the next time the two ran into each other. That happened the following weekend early Saturday morning as Pots went out to get his morning paper, and Charlie Lim, who was repainting part of his front yard fence, said "Hello."
"Hi, Charlie," Pots smiled. "How you been lately?"
"Very well, thanks. Yourself?"
"Same old - same old," Pots replied. "Nothing much new ever happens. But I saw in the paper where you had a bit of excitement at your store. Robbery I guess?"
"Yeah," Charlie sighed. "Police and everything."
"Did the thief take much?"
"No, almost nothing. I don't know what they were after. The police were surprised. They just looked around and then left."
"And they left you tied up?"
"They sure did."
"I don't suppose that was much fun."
"Well, it wasn't all that bad."
Pots was thoughtful for a few seconds, and then said sincerely, "What was it like?"
"What was what like?"
"What was it like being tied up?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what did it feel like to be tied up - helpless. Did they gag you too? How does it feel to be restrained and unable to free yourself?"
"Oh, I see. Well, it's hard to describe. You're just all tied up - that's all. You know. Surely when you were a kid you and your friends tied each other up now and then. Kid games - that sort of stuff."
"No - never. I've never been tied up. So I wondered what it was like. That's all."
"Well, it feels different - that's for sure. And yes, they did gag me too. So I just squirmed around and tried to get free, but fortunately the young man saw the door open a bit, and came in. Otherwise who knows how long I would have been there."
"Lucky he saw the door, I guess," sighed Pots.
"That's for sure," said Charlie. "Well, I've got to get this fence painted and get on with some other chores. I'm going to be tied up all afternoon, so I need to use my time wisely now."
"And I need breakfast and want to read the paper, so I'll see you later."
Pots went back into his house, and more or less put the conversation out of his mind for a while. He didn't see Charlie Lim again for almost a week, but thought of him and his experience now and then. On the following Friday evening as he returned home from school, Pots noticed Charlie outside working in his garage. He casually strolled over, and greeted his neighbor.
"Hi, Charlie. Getting a handle on the garage?"
"Oh, hi Pots. Things sure do pile up - it seems like I have to clean the place every few days."
Pots laughed. "I'm glad to see that you're here and not tied up again in your store."
Charlie laughed. "Yes, that was some experience."
"I guess so," said Pots. "Hard to describe exactly how it felt and what went on while you were lying there so helpless. I can't imagine how it must have been."
"You seem very interested in knowing how it was to be tied up," observed Charlie.
"Oh, I suppose I'm curious. Never having been tied up myself," laughed Pots. "I can only imagine what it was like."
"Do you want to know what it was like?" Charlie asked with a little smile.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I could show you what it was like if you're really interested."
"I don't understand."
"Well, you could come over tomorrow afternoon right after lunch and I'll tie you up for a while. Then you'll know first hand what it's like."
"Oh, I don't think so," said Pots. "I think that would take things a bit too far."
"Why?" Asked Charlie. "What would be the harm, and then you would have had a first hand experience. Something you obviously missed while you were growing up - when boys tie each other up in games. And you would have the answer to your question."
"You're serious aren't you?" asked Pots.
"Yes, I'm serious. My wife will be away all day. Come over and I'll tie you up good, just like they did to me."
"I'll think about it," said Pots, clearly flustered at the prospect. "I'll let you know tomorrow."
"Okay," said Charlie. "I'll be home all day, so it won't matter one way or the other. If you show up, I'll have the rope ready."
Pots laughed, and went to his house. The thought of having Charlie tie him up intrigued him, but he doubted that it was a good idea, and didn't think he was all that curious - deep down he wondered if he would have the nerve to go through with such an odd thing. He tried to dismiss the offer from his mind, but still, Charlie's suggestion had caught his attention, and he couldn't help thinking of it over and over. Later that evening Pots' wife reminded him that on Saturday she would be leaving early in the morning and driving the 170 miles to visit her mother and wouldn't be back until late in the evening. Pots would be home alone all day Saturday. There would be nothing to stop him from getting tied up for a little while. But he shrugged off the notion, and decided that it was not going to happen.
On schedule, Pots' wife left early Saturday morning. Pots worked around the house, then decided to do some work outside in the yard. He cut the grass in the front of the house, and was pulling some weeds in the garden when Charlie Lim walked over and joined him. After trading greetings and a little small talk, Charlie asked, "Well Pots, when are you going to come over so I can tie you up for a while?"
"I don't know, Charlie," Pots said softly. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not sure it's a good idea."
"Well," smiled Charlie, "It's the only way you'll ever know what it's like. I know that for sure. If you decide to do it, come over at eleven." Then Charlie walked away.
It was nine-thirty when Charlie spoke to Pots. Ninety minutes to ponder what to do. Finally, Pots talked himself out of joining Charlie. It was nutty. Crazy. He wondered what would have happened if he had gone. He would never know. He thought of himself all trussed up and maybe gagged too, and dismissed it. At eleven o'clock, Pots walked out of his house, shut and locked the door, and went to Charlie Lim's house next door.
"I'm all ready for you," Charlie said as he opened the door exhibiting a friendly smile.
"You knew I was going to come didn't you?" asked Pots.
"Sure. You're curious. You want to know what it's like. It's perfectly reasonable,"
"Isn't it a bit odd to want to be tied up?" asked Pots.
"Maybe not as odd as you think," said Charlie. "Many people enjoy bondage, and most of the people in this country who are tied up are tied up because they want to be tied up. Few are tied up by thieves and robbers. It's really very rare."
"Well, I still think it's odd," said Pots. "But as long as I've gone this far, I might just as well continue."
The two men had walked through Charlie Lim's house and down into the basement. In a nice well appointed party room with a soft carpet on the floor, Pots saw that Charlie had laid out rope and a roll of duct tape.
"You really are ready," said Pots.
"I think so," said Charlie. "Now take off all of your clothes except your jockey shorts."
"No. You wanted to know what it was like when the robber tied me up. He made me strip. So you should do the same. Besides, clothes tend to get in the way, and the ropes can damage them, so it's best to strip down anyway. It's warm enough down here, so no problem."
"Alright," Pots said reluctantly. "Slowly he took off everything except his snug white jockey shorts."
"Good. Now put your hands behind your back."
It didn't take long. In a matter of minutes Pots was lying on his stomach on the floor, his hands bound behind his back at the wrists and upper arms, his legs tied and bent back toward his hands and fastened in a snug hog-tie. Charlie brought out the duct tape and reinforced the rope being sure to cover Pots' hands leaving his captive unable to reach or deal with the ropes and knots.
"Now open your mouth," said Charlie.
"So I can gag you."
"I don't think that's necessary."
"You wanted to know what it was like for me. He gagged me. Now I gag you. It's part of the thing anyway. You want to be tied and gagged. They go together like apple pie and ice cream."
Very reluctantly Pots opened his mouth, and Charlie put a small black rubber ball into it. The ball had a stretch cord through it and Charlie fastened it behind Pots' head. Then Charlie wrapped duct tape around Pots' head front to back, circling about five times sealing up Pots' mouth locking the ball inside.
"Good," said Charlie. "Now you're tied up just like I was. Now you can find out how it felt. Enjoy."
Charlie sat for a while and watched his neighbor squirm around on the floor struggling, trying to free himself. Charlie laughed. "You're doing just what I did, and it didn't do me any good either. Well, I have things to do. You have a good time."
As Charlie stood and started to walk out of the room, Pots made as much noise as he could in the gag, protesting.
"What's wrong?" Charlie asked turning back.
Pots made more sounds.
"Oh, you want me to untie you. Right?
Pots nodded his head.
"Well, sorry. But you see, when they tied me up, I didn't know how long I would be that way. And you don't know how long I'm going to keep you tied up. The only thing you know is that eventually I'll free you. Now I've got things to do," and with that Charlie left the room leaving his neighbor bound, gagged and frustrated on his basement floor.
Pots struggled, furious at the position into which his neighbor had put him. After he reconciled himself to remaining bound and gagged until Charlie returned, Pots carefully studied how he felt - how it was to be tied up - the feeling of the ropes, the restraint. He experimented with attempts to move one way and another, and with the gag. He worked to see how much noise he could make and if he could make any intelligible sounds. He decided that he could not.
Pots lost track of time. Had he been tied up for an hour or two? He didn't know. He listened for sounds - anything to let him know that Charlie was returning. Nothing. He lay still and wondered if Charlie had forgotten him and he worried. He could feel himself sweat, and he tried to scream into the gag, but it muffled his efforts. What if Charlie's wife came home? All sorts of awful possibilities passed through Pots' mind.
Finally, Charlie appeared at the door and slowly walked over and stood next to his hog-tied neighbor.
"How you doing?"
Pots made muffled sounds and protests.
"Well, I can't understand any of that," laughed Charlie. "You can stay that way a lot longer if you want."
Pots made all the protest sounds he could and shook his head.
So reluctantly, Charlie bent down and bit by bit released Pots. Finally, tired and stiff, Pots stood, still in his briefs, and looked at his smiling neighbor.
"So, how did it feel?" asked Charlie.
"I have to admit, I've never felt anything like it in my life," admitted Pots.
"Well, now you know what it feels like to be tied up."
"That's for sure," said Pots. "That's for sure. You must have been terrified not knowing how long you would be there," Pots added.
"It wasn't as bad as you might think," chuckled Charlie.
Pots dressed, and looked at his watch. He had been bound up for just over three hours. He couldn't decide if that was more or less than he had guessed because he had guessed anything from one to six hours or more.
"I had better get home," Pots said.
"Sure," said Charlie.
"Thanks, really," said Pots. "I appreciate your time and what you did. I don't suppose you tie up your neighbors every day of the week."
"You can say that again," said Charlie.
Pots left and went home. Now he knew what it was like to be tied up.
Part 2 New Situations
Charlie Lim and Walker Potsakoff chatted from time to time after Pots' first bondage experience, but the subject of that experimental day didn't come up for a few weeks. Then, one Friday, Charlie approached Pots as he came home from the school where he worked. After greetings and some pleasantries, Charlie surprised Pots when, without preliminaries, he said, "It's time to tie you up again."
"Oh no," said Pots, startled by the comment. "Once was enough."
"I don't think so," said Charlie with a sly smile on his face. "You see, you've only experienced being tied up once, and only one way. There are many other ways to tie someone up, and I think to fully appreciate the condition, you need a few more exposures."
"Well," Pots managed, clearly flustered, "I thank you for thinking of me, but I think the one exposure was more than enough, thanks."
"Whatever you say," said Charlie. "But if you change your mind, my wife will be gone again on Saturday - out with your wife as it happens. And the two of them will be away all day. So if you want another tie-up that is different - something to compare with your first time in bondage, be at my house round Noon. I have something simple but interesting in mind for you."
With that, Charlie turned and walked slowly into his house leaving Pots standing alone in his driveway perplexed - wondering exactly what his neighbor was up to. How odd that Charlie Lim would want to tie him up a second time. Kinky to say the least. And so Pots resolved to skip a second experience. Being tied up once was quite enough, thank you. He didn't need to go through it again.
Carol Potsakoff left as scheduled Saturday morning along with Chaing Lim. Over the last few weeks the two women had become friendlier, attending meetings together with Carol joining a group to which Chaing had introduced her, and spending increasing amounts of their free time together. Pots rattled around his house looking for a chore, trying to dismiss Charlie's offer to once again tie him up. There was no way that would happen again - Pots assured himself of that repeatedly. At ten o'clock, Pots knocked on Charlie's back door.
Charlie laughed when Pots said that he only came over to tell his neighbor that he would graciously decline the offer for a second bondage experience. Charlie nodded his head and agreed with Pots and said that he fully understood Pots' position. Then, firmly, he told Pots to follow him into the basement, strip, and put on a clean black jockstrap which he handed his befuddled neighbor.
"But I said I didn't want to be tied up again," protested Pots not taking the brief garment from his neighbor's outstretched hand.
"Take it, head for the basement, and put it on," said Charlie. "You're here because you're curious and you want to do it despite your feeble protestations. So let's get on with it." Charlie stood firmly staring Pots straight in the eyes.
Slowly, Pots' head dropped, and in a voice so quiet that Charlie could hardly hear him, he mumbled, "Yeah, you're right."
Pots took the jockstrap, and together the men went into the Lim's basement where Pots stripped and put on the black jockstrap.
"We'll keep this simple," said Charlie as he took one length of rope and secured Pots' wrists in front. With that done, Charlie said, "Now, hunker down on the floor - that is, squat."
Charlie dropped his derrière down onto the floor and sat with his bound wrists up at about eye level. Charlie then showed him how to drop his elbows, one on either side of his bent knees. Quickly, Charlie reached onto a nearby table and grabbed a meter-long rod which he pushed over Pots' right elbow, under Pots' right and then left knee, and over Pots' left elbow. Charlie stood and looked at his neighbor.
"Try to move," he said.
Pots discovered that the rod kept his hands firmly in front of him and dramatically limited his movements. As he played with the limits the quick and simple tie-up had imposed, Charlie moved to the table and picked up a black leather plug gag. Standing behind Pots, he ordered his neighbor to open his mouth. This Pots did without protest and Charlie pushed the large plug into Pots' mouth and secured the gag behind his head.
"We don't want you to jiggle this rod so that you are free," said Charlie to his now gagged friend as he took duct tape and wrapped it around the rod on one side of Pots' body, then stretched it around behind Pots' back and secured the other side.
"There you are," said Charlie. "The wives won't be home for quite a while, so you can enjoy this new position."
With that, Charlie left leaving Pots struggling on the floor of the basement party room, getting nowhere with this elegant but simple restraint,
It seemed to Pots that he remained bound and gagged for longer than he had the first time Charlie had tied him up. Despite the rather simplistic way he was restrained, it worked, and Pots got nowhere trying to free himself. The gag was effective and not really a problem except that he tended to drool on himself. So Pots squirmed around and waited patiently - what else could he do? - until Charlie returned.
Now and then Charlie came into the room to get something, or do something, but he paid no attention to his trussed-up neighbor. Pots tried to get his attention, but his muffled efforts were routinely ignored. It was plain that Pots would stay tied until Charlie was good and ready to deal with him. That finally happened some time later.
Charlie came into the room and cheerfully said, "Well, now, how are we doing?"
Pots protested into his gag, but Charlie only laughed. "Isn't this a neat way to tie someone up?" he asked.
"Of course, there are many other ways. Next Saturday our wives will be gone again, so you'll come over - earlier this time - at ten - and we'll do something different. OK?"
Pots shook his head vigorously - NO! Charlie only laughed. "You'll come alright. I know you. You will think about it all week, and wonder what I have planned. You won't be able to help yourself. You'll be here, and I'll tie you up good. Really good this time. Something different. You'll love it.
Charlie stood and began to move toward the door and Pots made what noise he could into the gag.
"Oh, I suppose you want me to let you go. Well, you've been here long enough I guess."
Charlie freed his neighbor and when the gag was removed, Pots stood and said nothing. He removed the jockstrap which he returned to Charlie, and then he dressed himself.
"That was it," he said. "No more. I'm firm this time. I appreciate what you've done very much, but I don't need any more. I now know what it's like."
One week later at ten in the morning, Pots knocked on the back door of the Lim house.
"This is a straightjacket," said Charlie as he looked at Pots who was then dressed only in a tiny right black lycra thong. "Have you ever seen one before?"
"Only in pictures. I've never seen a real one."
"Well, this is the real thing, believe me. And if you're as good as Houdini, you will be able to get out of it."
"Do you think so?"
"No, but you can try. You'll be in it for a while."
Resigned to the captivity, Pots held out his arms and Charlie cinched him into the lightweight canvas straitjacket. Charlie then added the red ball gag he had used the first time he tied Pots up. Then he bound Pots' legs with leather belts. He sat Pots down in a chair and used more leather belts to secure him to the chair.
"Have a nice day," said Charlie as he exited the room leaving Pots again to ponder why he submitted himself to anything so obviously bizarre. He struggled with the straightjacket, remembering that Houdini had supposedly been able to dislocate his shoulders in order to squirm out of the confines of straightjackets. Pots realized that he could not dislocate anything, and that the jacket fit very snugly, the crotch straps anchoring the jacket in place, other straps over his arms in front holding them in place.
After about fifteen minutes, Charlie returned and said, "Oh, I forgot something." He picked up something from the table, and moved behind Pots. Suddenly, for Pots, everything went dark as Charlie installed a blindfold. Nothing was said, and Pots groaned and half-heartedly protested into the gag. But it was done, and now Pots sat in the blackness that the blindfold imposed, squirming in his latest bondage.
Charlie had bound Pots at about ten in the morning. Hi did not remove the blindfold until three in the afternoon, five hours later. He freed Charlie from the chair and released his legs, but the straitjacket and gag remained. Pots stood looking at his neighbor trying to ask what was going on, but Charlie remained enigmatic, letting Pots walk around seemingly at will.
"Want to stay here all night?" asked Charlie.
Pots shook his head, NO, firmly.
"Probably not," laughed Charlie. "Oh well, I'll let you out of that in a while."
Pots moved around the basement, feeling odd bound in the straitjacket, incoherent because of the gag. After about another hour, Charlie freed him, and after talking about the experience for a while, Pots went home. But before he left, Charlie firmly told Pots that he would be tied up again the following Saturday, only this time it would happen in Pots' house. Pots had given up arguing, as he knew he would comply although he didn't understand why. He wondered what Charlie had in mind. He would have a week to wait.
Part 3 The Revelation
For Walker Potsakoff, the next week passed quickly. He was amazed how often he thought about Charlie Lim, and wondered what his neighbor had in store for him the following Saturday. Surely this would be the last bondage session. He told himself again and again that this final experience would be more than enough and he would put a stop to it. Deep down inside he wondered if he had the fortitude to resist Charlie who seemed able to get into Pots' psyche, to know what he would and wouldn't do, and what he wanted. The whole thing unnerved Pots, but he decided to see what Charlie would do to him just one more time.
The following Saturday arrived and as planned, Carol Potsakoff and Chaing Lim kissed their respective husbands goodbye, got into the Lim's beige-colored Lexus, and headed off to do the various chores and attend the meetings they had scheduled that would keep them away, they said, most of the day. About thirty minutes later, Charlie Lim knocked on the Potsakoff's back door.
Pots greeted his neighbor as Charlie entered the house carrying a small paper grocery bag. They exchanged pleasantries, inquired about each other's health and briefly discussed what they had been doing over the past week and commented on the scores of this and that "big" game. Pots offered Charlie a cup of coffee but his neighbor declined saying that they had things to do, and that the coffee could wait. Then Charlie asked Pots to take the two of them to the master bedroom.
Curious, Pots led his neighbor down the hall from the brightly colored kitchen past the bathroom, and into a large bedroom which was nicely appointed and dominated by a large king-sized bed, neatly made-up and covered with a dark red spread. There were no clothes lying about. A huge ornate carved wooden armoire filled much of one wall, and Charlie could see the door to a walk-in closet and another that led to the master bedroom's private bathroom. Pots stood and watched as Charlie surveyed the room, then looked at Pots and smiled.
"Strip," he said tersely.
As Pots complied, Charlie removed the spread from the bed, folding it carefully and laying it on a chair near the windows that filled part of one wall. Looking back, he saw that Pots now stood naked before him waiting.
"Lay on the bed," Charlie directed.
Pots complied. Charlie opened the bag and brought out a handful of coils of light cotton rope. Selecting one, he then removed four black leather cuffs from the bag. Moving to the side of the bed, Charlie fixed one cuff to Pots' right wrist and one to his right ankle. On the other side, Charlie put the remaining two cuffs on Pots' left wrist and ankle. Then Charlie took a length of rope and secured it to a silver ring on the cuff and stretched it out to one corner of the large bed causing Pots to reach out with his arm until it was straight and out at an angle away from his body, stretched to its fullest. Charlie did the same with the other arm, and then secured Pots' legs so that now the victim lay fully spread-eagled on his bed. Charlie had pulled the ropes snug enough that Pots had almost no movement in his arms or legs.
"How's that?" Charlie asked surveying his handiwork.
"I feel very vulnerable," commented Pots.
"You are very vulnerable," agreed Charlie. Next Charlie withdrew the black leather gag from the paper bag. He crawled up onto the bed so that he had access to Pots' head, told Pots to open his mouth, inserted the plug of the gag and cinched the strap and buckle behind Pots' upraised head. Pots grunted into the gag and again realized that he could make only muffled sounds and could no longer communicate in any meaningful way.
Charlie crawled off the bed and took one more thing out of the bag which now Pots recognized as a blindfold. Moving back onto the bed, Charlie put the blindfold over Pots' eyes. Then he moved off the bed leaving Pots alone, wiggling as much as the taut ropes allowed, exploring the limits of his confinement.
"Now I'm going to go downstairs and have that coffee you offered me," said Charlie. "See you sometime this afternoon or later - whenever I feel like coming back."
Pots tried to move his fingers to feel the cuff that held his wrists, and maybe locate the rope that bound him, but he remembered that even if he could feel the rope, the knots were at the corners of the bed far out of his reach. The cuffs, lined with something like fur, weren't uncomfortable, and they held him fast. Again, all he could do was lay there and wait until Charlie returned and decided to release him.
The hours passed in silence. Pots tried to determine if he was alone in the room or if Charlie was there with him. Sometimes he thought he heard the slightest sounds, but it might have been his mind playing tricks on him. Was Charlie sitting there reading a book, or was he gone - maybe back at his own house. Pots had no idea. Still, he had to admit that the feeling was delicious - different. Deep down inside he had to confess to himself that he did enjoy being tied up. Frightening to like something so bizarre, so kinky, so truly odd. He wondered what his family, his wife would think if they knew he was getting into something so outlandish? And again and again he insisted to himself that this would be the last time. There would be no more. This was it.
Then Pots was sure he did hear something. Such a slight sound. The hint of a noise. Something or someone moving. Pots moaned into his gag. He moved his head as if looking around despite being blindfolded. Then he lay very quietly listening. He heard it again - like a sigh - perhaps it was breathing. He protested into the gag. Who was there? What was going on? Was it Charlie? He protested again moving his head. Nothing.
All was quiet again, and then without warning, something or someone touched Pots' chest. He jumped and yelped into the gag. The touch moved to his right tit and circled it. What was going on? Who was it? What was Charlie doing? Pots now protested vehemently into the gag.
The touch disappeared, but Pots heard something new. It sounded like stifled giggling. Was it Charlie? Had someone broken into the house - a neighbor – some kids? Pots was beside himself struggling with the bonds that held him, raising and lowering his head straining to hear anything that would explain what was happening - what he was hearing and feeling.
The touch returned, moving across his chest and down to his stomach. Pots arched up and moved his head. He attempted to flail his arms but the ropes held him fast. His muffled groans brought no response except more moments when he thought he heard more giggling. The touch moved down his stomach and played with the line of fine black hair that reached from his chest to his crotch. The touch moved down to his penis and suddenly ran along its shaft, a finger nail racing down its full length. Pots' penis jumped to attention, stiffening in an involuntary reaction to the stimulus.
Pots' face colored with embarrassment as he achieved a full erection. The touch played with the tip of his penis, then again followed the now hard shaft to its base where it daintily danced on his testicles. Pots was frustrated, angry, curious, upset, aroused, and appalled all at the same time. What was Charlie doing? Was it Charlie? Was his neighbor gay? Was he now vulnerable to some perverted act on the part of his neighbor who had been building up to this over the past few weeks? Pots was in agony and yet simultaneously suffering considerable pleasure as the touch danced on his penis and testicles.
The giggling and the touching continued for minutes - perhaps ten or fifteen. Then it stopped. After a long pause with nothing happening, Pots felt a hand on the blindfold, and suddenly one hand lifted his head while another removed the blindfold.
Astounded and horrified, Pots looked up to see Charlie, Carol, and Chaing standing there watching him. He burbled into the gag and strained the ropes while they stood silently looking down on his naked, spread-eagled form.
"Having a nice day?" Carol Potsakoff said, finally, flashing an ear-to-ear grin.
Pots mumpffed into the gag something nobody understood.
"Well," said Carol slowly, "It looks like my man has gotten himself into something he can't get himself out of. You've given a whole new meaning to the expression, 'I'll be tied up all day.'" Then she laughed, joined by Charlie and Chaing.
"It's time for an explanation," said Charlie. "You see, I'm a submissive. Chaing here is a dominatrix. You must have wondered why I could come up with all the equipment I've been using to tie you up. It's the stuff she uses on me. We've been into bondage since before we married. I'm the slave and she's the master. And she's a devil too, believe me."
"Shut up Charlie, and just tell him what's going on or I'll tie you up and just leave you."
"She means it too," laughed Charlie. "Anyway, the night my store was robbed and they left me bound and gagged - well, it wasn't really a robbery. Chaing hired the two men to tie me up and leave me. She was supposed to come along much later and find me. It was part of our game. Unfortunately, the men bungled the job when they left the door partly open and the police got involved. I could hardly tell them that my wife hired men to tie me up, so I let everyone believe what they wanted. Then you came along showing interest. I decided to see just how interested you really were."
"We suspected right away that you might be a candidate for bondage," added Chaing. "So I approached your wife and told her what was going on. She's come to my club for dominant women."
"Loved it," said Carol. "I'm furious that you didn't tell me that you liked bondage ages ago," she added. "But we can always make up for lost time,"
"Anyway," continued Charlie, "I've been testing you to see if you really did like being bound up and gagged. You've passed with flying colors. And don't think I didn't notice how erect you got whenever I had you tied. A dead give-away. That's the story. Now Chaing and I have to get home. You two have a great afternoon. Remember, Carol, sooner or later you have to let him go."
"Who says?" asked Carol with a wink. "I think he looks great right where he is."
"Sorry, Pots," laughed Charlie. "Ask her nicely and maybe she'll free you. Ask her, that is, if you can!"
Then the Lims left. Carol lay on the bed next to her bound and gagged husband. "Oh Pots," she sighed. "What have you gotten yourself into? How many times I've imagined having you tied up and under my control. How many times I've thought of trying bondage but afraid of what you might think and how you might react. And now, here you are, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. Well, sir, get used to it because you're going to make me very happy."
After a while, Carol did a slow strip tease while Pots watched. Again she lay next to him, now nude, kissing him on his chest, nipping at his nipples, moving slowly down toward his stomach. Pots remained erect, and eventually she took his firm shaft into her mouth and playfully teased it with her tongue and teeth. Finally, aroused herself, she moved on top of her bound husband, lowered herself onto his erection, and slowly, together, the two of them undulated in an orchestrated rhythm until first Carol, and then Pots climaxed in what Pots later said was the best orgasm he could ever remember. Carol agreed.
The next morning, Sunday, Carol Potsakoff finally untied her husband. It was a night he would never forget. And it was only the beginning.
Walker Potsakoff had stopped trying to move. The straitjacket bound his arms and upper body securely. The ropes lashed him to the heavy chair. His legs were strapped together with leather binders and held to the chair's cross-supports by heavy rope. Pots' penis and testicles were confined inside a sinister device that separated each ball, held his cock in check and forbade an erection. Pots' mouth was filled with the large spongy plug of a leather gag held in place with straps that circled his head, held his jaw firm against the plug, and kept the face plate smashed against his lips. A leather hood with only nose and eyeholes further sealed his face and muffled any sounds he might try to make. Pots had been bound in this manner for a few hours with no release promised in the immediate future.
Pots predicament found him in the small storeroom in the basement of his home. The light was on illuminating the room filled with shelves stocked with cans of fruits and vegetables and other provisions used daily by his wife when she prepared their meals. Pots looked at the labels and surveyed what was there, and what wasn't, making a mental note to get this or that the next time he was at the store. There wasn't much else he could do considering the rather severe bondage in which he found himself.
Then Pots looked across the small room. With his back against the far wall sat Charlie Lim, bound and gagged, trussed up and immobilized in his chair exactly as his neighbor. The two men could look at each other as much as they wished, but any communication, or movement for that matter, was out of the question - as was any notion of escape.
Above them, on the main floor of the house, the two could sometimes hear faint sounds of the party that Carol Potsakoff and Chaing Lim were throwing for their friends - their fellow club members. It was a gathering of women who reveled in dominating their husbands and who specialized in bondage. Of course all of them had descended into the basement where they inspected the two captives, complementing Carol and Chaing on the completeness and effectiveness of the straits into which the two had put their respective husbands.
Carol Potsakoff laughed. She bragged that ever since she found out her husband liked being tied up, she had obliged him frequently, sometimes keeping him bound over night. Best of all, she exclaimed, she now controlled the remote - the clicker - that operated the television set. She could watch whatever program she wanted, uninterrupted by her husband's compulsive need to "surf" from channel to channel. Frustrated, Pots would sit, nicely and neatly tied up and gagged, while his wife exercised her right to view this or that program from start to finish, without distraction. For Carol Potsakoff, it was heaven - nirvana - Shangri-la - Vallhalla - all rolled into one.
As for Charlie Lim, sitting immobilized in the Potsakoff basement, he was happy to have a friend in the same predicament as himself. Now he had someone with whom he could commiserate - compare notes, talk about their mutual experiences. He and Pots had become good friends - one might say tied to each other with ever strengthening bonds.
Pots himself had gone into his bondage adventure with considerable enthusiasm .. His wife had suddenly become sexually alive. The sex to which his wife treated him was so spectacular that he would submit to any of her demands without hesitation. Apparently just seeing him restrained (the more the better) set her juices flowing. They had bought equipment - straitjackets, gags, binders, and so on. They used the toys frequently over the year since Carol had found her husband naked, spread-eagled, and gagged on their bed. So much had happened during that year. The pattern of life for the Potsakoff family had changed considerably.
And so Walker Potsakoff was no longer curious about bondage. After a year of it, he knew exactly what it was like to be tied up. In fact, he was something of an expert on the subject. The only thing Walker Potsakoff was curious about now was how long his wife intended to keep him tied up. Somehow, based on what had been happening, he suspected it would be quite a while.
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