HOUDINI
CONNECTIONS WEB SITE
http://www.houdini-connections.co.uk/4-info/pubs/storylines.htm
Words 3900 pages 5
SHORT STORY
by a rubber/bondage enthusiast
THE BEGINNING
It was a quite
evening at home, he lived on his own and as is sometimes the case had found an
alternative to the normal sexual relationship. His alternative is self applied
rubber bondage. Now bondage on your own might sound like a little bit of a
taxing test, but he was happy. Over the years he had been playing this game, he
had developed a number of routines and scenarios which kept him happy and
usually safe. It had started years ago and he no longer even cared about the
why or why not’s of it. It is his turn on. The road to where he was that
evening was one with a gentle gradient and he was probably quite unaware that
his alternative had become quite so extreme as it may seem to the outsider
looking in the window.
Not that such a thing
was likely to happen as all the windows where he might be seen from were
carefully closed off with curtains, and his play area was in the basement of
his house which had no external windows or doors. His equipment was for the
most part bought solely for the games he played, but unless seen in the uses he
would put it to was the type of kit that a fit sportsman with an interest in
both martial arts and water sports would have about the house. He had in all
innocence started boxing, and found other uses for the gloves and guards, never
intended by the makers. The water sports on the other hand had been a cover at
first, so that he could have the various types of rubber suits used by divers
and windsurfers and not raise any questions as to the reason why. Very
important when living with parents, who definitely would not understand. His
occasional games had gradually become a major interest both inside and outside
the basement. But to our tale.
The basement was a
haven of rubber and bondage for him. Down there there was only one master,
himself, and the worries of his job and the life he leads for public
consumption could be sponged away in his own warm quiet world. This day he was
going to play one of his regular games and the preparations for it took some
time. If you like there were layers of control each aimed at a different part
of the body, or a different sense. He knew that the picture was to an extent
make-believe but only at the very last point and it was in the preparations as
much as arriving that he gained his pleasure.
He started naked in
his play room, as a matter of practice he never took any ordinary clothing down
so the room filled his view with the vision of his alternative world. The first
item was a German made Boxers groin guard. Made of a plastic foam it was unaffected
by sweat, tears or indeed any other fluids and could be washed clean when
finished with. He had made a small improvement to it by fitting a small
plastic plate into the back, carefully moulded on a plaster
model, it separated his cock and made it very difficult to stimulate it from
outside.
The next layer was a
specially made wet suit, from a small
cottage industry in
The next item to be
limited was his hearing, for this he used soft wax ear plugs which dampened his
hearing to a point where he could hardly hear the telephone bell. In the room
next to the play room was his multi gym. It was his usual practice to ‘warm up’
with a set of exercises and he began to go through them. The new suit was,
however, a factor of magnification he had not anticipated and after a few
seconds on the cycle he was sweating more than ever before. He stopped and went
back to the games room and the next item on his list for restriction.
The racing ski boots
had four clips on them and went half way up his legs, size 13 they were a
comfortable fit over the wetsuit legs and feet. Clipped up, the foot was held
flat and rigid to an extent no other binding could hope to copy. The ankle was
held in a bent condition at about 10 degrees of lean and again locked rigid. As
he stood up from fastening the last clip again it came home to him how much
thicker and more restricting his new suit was from the old tried and trusted
suit he had used for years.
He clumped his way
over to a bench with the rest of the days play things laid out on it. The ski
boots made movement difficult and with the ear plugs and wetsuit hood up all he
could hear was his own heart and breathing. On the bench were a number of items
which he had acquired from various sources. First on the list for attention
were his hands. The boxers bandages went on over a thin rubber glove wrapping
round the wrist and separating the fingers with more turns round the hand. By
the time he had finished he could hardly move his fingers and they were
compressed in to a half open fist. The time spent learning how to box had not
been wasted! Into his mouth went an Austral
That left only three
items on his bench. A pair of American 18 ounce boxing gloves, a webbing strap
with a ring on it and his pride and joy; A special diving mask designed for the
oil industry so that a diver could weld underwater without the use of a welding
shield in front of mask. It was a clever design, the face mask glass was a form
of liquid crystal unit. A switch on the front of the mask could turn the visor
black, or as near as made little difference. The mask was heavy and he had
removed the breathing regulator from it, replacing it with a home made set of
sound filters which were very effective. Without the gag his loudest shouts
were little more than a murmur, with the gag there was so little sound it could
be said to be totally effective. He put the mask on an did the straps up.
He opened a draw in
the bench and checked that the divers knife was Iying there ready for use and
slid it shut again. It was his insurance and being a careful man he always
checked. The boxing gloves were next and as he pulled them over his hand the
sweat was gently trickling down his nose. Without thinking he raised a hand to
wipe the drop away. It stopped short and his muffled laugh was heard by no one
other than himself. The gloves had been laced back to front with the tails in
the palm. He had a Fixlock clamp over
the lace ends the same as were used on sleeping bags and other climbing gear
and to tension them a clever piece of engineering; On the bench was a plate
with a deep ‘V’ notch. Under it was a bar on a rail, held up by a spring and
connected to a treadle. He positioned the glove and its lace clamp above the
plate. The lace ends, tied together, dropped round the bar. With a quick press
on the treadle the laces were tight and with the gloves and bandages there was
no way he could free the clamp or pull the glove off his hand.
At this point his
preparations were almost complete. He was quite proud of the fact he had
reached this point without shooting his load. The heat inside the suit was
incredible and he realised that the game would last for about an hour at the
most before he had to free himself. His body was now wet with sweat all over
and as he moved he could feel the sweat move around the suit, trickling over
the bottom of the face opening in the hood and building up in the mask. He was
well pleased, speech was impossible and even the grunts he could make seriously
muffled. His hearing had been reduced by around 90 % and his sense of touch had
been almost completely removed by the suit and gloves. A flick of a switch
would remove his vision. All that was left was his freedom to move about, and
that would be handled in the next few minutes.
First the hands and
arms. The webbing strap had come from a chandlers, about 2.5 meters long and
fitted with a friction clamp. He had melted a small hole in the free end. At
it’s maximum extension it was looped through a figure of eight ring making
three equal loops. He picked it up (the gloves mading manual dexterity very
difficult) and slipped one loop over each arm leaving the buckle end hanging
between his legs. He walked over to the wall and reaching between his legs
pulled up the free end of the strap. On the wall was a cup hook and to this he
fitted the end of strap. Stepping back gently the strap was pulled into a loop
between his groin and the wall. Now came the difficult part; he looped one hand
through the strap getting a turn round his wrist, reached up with his other to
flick the switch on the mask plunging himself into an internal darkness. The
second hand no followed the first. By gentle pressure on his arms and moving
away from the wall he increased the strap tension until he could no longer
remove his hands from the loops of the strap. A flick of the waist and hips
freed the end of the strap from the cup hook. He knew that by pressing the
clamp against the door frame he could slacken the strap and start the process
of freeing himself.
Blind as he now was
he shuffled back to the wall and with his shoulder against it moved slowly
towards the corner of the room. Arriving there he now knew his precise position
and feeling behind him with his foot he touched the ski bindings screwed to the
floor. Like everything else he had gathered together they were of the best
quality. The force required to break them open could be adjusted from a little
tug to a point where no force would move them. He had set them so that they
were firm enough to hold his legs under most of the jerks and pulls he would
apply. But when he wanted out, by leaning forward until his head was against
the wall and jerking with all his strength, he could break out. This was his
escape from self bondage and he frequently checked and adjusted the tension of
the bindings to have them at just the correct setting.
Clipping his feet
into the bindings he had now achieved his favourite bondage position. Behind
him mounted on a sturdy frame was a rally car bucket type seat. If he grew
tired but was not yet ready to free himself he could sit down for a while and
with difficulty stand up again. The seat was fitted with a full rally harness
but he had never worked out how to utilise it in his games.
Careful as he was, in
his excitement to get his new suit on and play, he had forgotten one important
check before going down to his play room. He had not locked the door to his
house! Excusable really as he lived in a lodge house which had belonged to a
big house, now gone. His nearest neighbour was more than a mile away. As he
happily struggled to free his hands bouncing on his legs twisting and jerking
at his legs totally away in his own world all he could hear was his breathing and
his heart which was beginning to speed up. He did not hear the car drawing up
at the drive, nor the knocking on his door. As he could see nothing he did not
see the door to the playroom open or one of his closest friends look in at his
suited, strapped and generally helpless figure. It was a friend he had got to
know since moving into the area, used the same gym, and had expressed similar
interests, boxing, water-skiing and diving. What he did not know was that his
friend had one other thing in common with him; he too had a craving for rubber
bondage.
THE MIDDLE
His friend stood
for a while looking at him, breathing deeply to get his own emotions under
control and looking at all the equipment lying around the play room. He then
moved forward on silent feet and looked closely at the way his pal had bound
himself, noting the blacked out mask, straps, suit and the chair behind him. At
that moment the first man decided he had had enough standing (it is quite
tiring on the legs) and settled back cautiously onto the edge of the bucket
seat. His breath was coming quickly from with the mask and he was shaking
slightly from his efforts. Quick as a flash his friend moved forward, speedily
but very expertly arranging the straps of the rally harness. When all was ready
he pushed his friend back further into the seat, closed the straps round his
waist, over his shoulders and up between his legs clamping them all into the
quick release buckle and taking up the slack.
The effect on his
victim was electrifying. Imagine if you can, yourself in that position: A
carefully developed scheme to give you the feel of full bondage, probably an
imaginary scenario where someone else has left you there helpless. Knowing in
your heart it is just a game and suddenly, a hand pushing you back, totally taking over control. You can see
nothing, hear nothing, say nothing; straps you know you can not free being
passed over your body and the faint sound of the clips slamming home. He
started to jerk and thrash at the bonds but there was little he could do to
move. His design was perfect and he could not even move his shoulders or lift
his bottom from the seat. His legs were locked solid as were his hands, all
that he could do was move his head and that was restricted by the wings and
head rest of the bucket seat.
“It’s all right
John.” said the friend, “it’s me Iain. You’re amongst friends.” John continues
to thrash about and Iain, smiling to himself repeated his statement only
louder. Still no effect. Laughing out loud Iain stepped round the quivering
body in the chair, bent forward to look at the mask and flicked the switch to
clear the face piece. The look in Johns eyes was one of combined mortification
and relief. Iain, never one to hold back, collapsed into total hysterics. Then,
pulling himself together hestood up and looked at John who was still jerking at
his bonds and looking at him now part angry, part pleading. Miming with his
hands Iain said “Earplugs” exaggerating the lip movements. Giving up his futile
struggle John nodded his head at the same time making a few grunting noises
that Iain could hardly hear. “And a Gag?” Iain looked at John with some
respect. Again the grunting noises and a nod of the head from John.
Iain stepped across
the room, picked up a stool and came back sitting down in side Johns sight
area. He bent forward and pulling the hood back removed one ear plug before
pulling the hood forward again. “Don’t want you to get cold do we!?” he said.
John bumped up and down in the seat and again grunted at Iain. “Can you hear me
now ?” Iain asked. John nodded. “Is it hot in there?” Again the nod. “Now think
carefully,” Said Iain “I will let you free any time, but isn’t this more fun
than doing it on your own?” A pause and then a hesitant nod. “I’m not going to
interfere with you sexually, or kill you
- but now you can make a choice.
Either I undo the seat belt and leave switching the mask back to black, or, we
play together for the rest of tonight and the weekend ahead. Well? Which is it
to be? Do you want me to go?” As he looked in the mask at Johns eyes he could
see the indecision. He said nothing else, just smiling gently at him. After a
few moments John shook his head.
“Good!” said Iain,
“Now think well about this. That is a heavy suit you are wearing. If it gets
too hot for you three sharp grunts and we will pause for a while to cool you
off. In the burn outside! OK?” Again a long pause. John’s eyes looked worried.
“Don’t worry! I’ll make sure no one sees you!” John nods. “Good, Now don’t go
away, I am just off home for a few bits and pieces. Shorts and a tee shirt seem
a little under-dressed. Apart from which I will never keep control of this” he
said, flicking the bulge in his shorts. Iain reaches forward to John, pulls
back the hood and replaces the ear plug, pauses and pulls the plug out again
“How about you, is it boxed in?” looking down at Johns groin. John nods again.
“Hard box or soft?” John grunts,. “Sorry forgot about that”. He reaches between
Johns legs and punches him in the groin. John flinches but shows no pain in his
eyes. “Hard?” A nod. “Good, its better that way. You’re in for some experience!
Are you comfortable just now?” A nod. “Fine, back .....
sometime soon”. The ear plug goes in and the switch flicks, blacking out
the mask.
TO BE CONTINUED (it never was)
FOR ALL CALLUM-RELATED FILES SEE
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT
is a topic which grew out of
subsequent discussion with Callum.
For many years he would not admit to
(or perhaps had never even allowed himself to consider)
what he really wanted to happen
next.
This topic is now discussed more
fully on the incomplete web page
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