They spent some time back in the downstairs bedroom. Mark took a lot of photos of Gordon standing in various positions, with his hands fastened in front and behind, and attached to the sides of the collar. Gordon tried to turn side on to hide the bulge that the CB 3000 made, but was instructed not to by Mark. ‘Carry on doing that and you’ll be back on the beam.’ Gordon was tempted but resisted the urge. He had a feeling that he’d be back in the spread eagle position, standing at the beam, at some point anyway so resisted. Shortly afterwards, Mark sent Gordon back upstairs for the ankle cuffs and on his return strapped them back around his ankles and told him to sit. He then fastened each of Gordon’s hands to an ankle and Gordon was forced to sit with his legs open. Mark took some more shots and then held up the head harness. Gordon opened his mouth and once again the large ball was stuffed in Gordon’s mouth and the harness secured.
‘I ougt ee ere gttng smmthing to eat’ Gordon managed to get out. Reaching over Gordon’s shoulders, Mark squeezed Gordon’s nipples hard and rolled them between thumb and forefinger. He then massaged Gordon’s balls through the lycra. Picking up the camera again he started taking some more photos. Gordon squirmed.
‘That should take your mind off food for a little while, anyway it’s not ready and I wanted to make best use of the time’.
After taking a few more shots, Mark left the room. Gordon didn’t have to wait long before he was back and undoing Gordon’s wrists. He took off the wrist cuffs and the harness and removed the collar. ‘OK, time to eat’. He led the way out of the room and Gordon followed. Holding open the door opposite, Mark waited for Gordon to get hold of it. ‘Some of these doors are on automatic closers, they’re fire doors’ he said. ‘If you let them slam I’ll not be very happy’ he didn’t qualify the implied threat, he didn’t need to. Gordon had experienced enough in a few short hours – he still didn’t know what time it was – to realise that Mark had a pretty imaginative mind when it came to physical and mental domination. Entering the room Gordon could see that it was similar to the one he had spent most of his time in, but was considerably larger. There were a couple of large comfy sofas along two walls in one corner, opposite them was a large flat screen TV. Beams ran across the ceiling and Gordon was relieved to see that there weren’t any obvious signs of restraining devices. ‘The holes are there, but I don’t leave the stuff on show for ordinary visitors’. Once again Mark appeared to read his mind. Gordon’s attention was drawn to a table next to a low shelf which separated the room from the kitchen. ‘OK let’s eat, I hope you like lasagne, salad and garlic bread. There’s plenty of water and no laxative’ Mark joked. Gordon did as bid and devoured the meal. While he was eating Mark kept filling up his water glass. ‘It’s important that you don’t dehydrate’ he instructed. While he was eating, Gordon kept surreptitiously glancing around to see if he could see a clock. He had chosen a seat facing away from the kitchen so he couldn’t see whether there was a clock on the cooker. Again Mark seemed to guess what was on his mind. ‘All you need to know is that it’s probably still Friday, you’re here until sometime Sunday, and for you, that’s a long time away’.
They finished the meal and Gordon was instructed to clear the plates and get dessert from the fridge. He returned to the table carrying two bowls of fresh fruit and put them on the table. ‘You should serve me first, and you forgot the cream’ Gordon returned to the fridge and collecting the jug placed it within Mark’s reach. It didn’t escape his attention that Mark was using every opportunity to exercise control over the smallest things. He waited and watched Mark start. ‘OK you can eat.’ Gordon knew why he’d waited and it made his cock throb. It wasn’t enough to have his cock locked in a cage, although that, in itself made him almost a total prisoner He knew that what Mark had put him through so far was probably only a test, and that there were more ordeals planned for him before his release. He shivered at the thought and his cock continued to tingle in its confinement. He finished his meal and sat back in his chair.
‘I’d like a coffee now, but I don’t think it’s best if you have one. If you look in the fridge you’ll find an energy drink, it’s still caffeine but you can have that. If you look in the drawer next to the sink you’ll find something to help with the washing up’. More instructions.
Gordon got up and removed the plates. Putting them next to the sink he opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of black rubber gloves. Mark was watching. ‘Put them on, they’ll protect your delicate hands. They’re special hardwearing ones that came with the gas mask’. Gordon pulled them on with some difficulty. They were very tight fitting and came half way up to his elbows. Unconsciously he pushed the rubber down between each of his fingers in turn, making sure there were no air bubbles at the end of his fingers. He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice Mark getting out of his chair. Gordon held his hands up and admired the gloves. They felt really good. Moving behind Gordon, Mark grasped his right hand and moved it so that Gordon was effectively hand gagging himself, and hooked Gordon’s thumb over the top of his nose. ‘Close your mouth and breathe through your nose’. Gordon did as he was bid, closing his eyes and inhaling the strong rubber smell. This was the best smell in the world. Mark again massaged the cage around Gordon’s cock, more gently this time. Gordon inhaled deeply. ‘How’s that feel, really good? I bet you wish you weren’t locked in this cage’ Mark resorted to whispering in Gordon’s ear again. Gordon nodded, his eyes still shut, but was suddenly jerked back to reality as his hand was pulled away.
‘That’s tough then, I’m still waiting for my coffee. Cups and coffee are in the right hand cupboard, milk is in the fridge. When you’ve done that, you can do the washing up. You can work out for yourself where everything goes. Once you’ve done that, make sure that you dry the gloves very carefully, oh and go and put the collar back on, now you’ve finished eating.
The bastard. Gordon knew without asking that he had to do this first and went out to fetch it. Too late he realised that it was a test as the door banged shut behind him. He picked up the collar and buckled it around his neck. Almost everything he did, this included, was putting pressure on his cock, which strained again in its prison. Gordon returned to the living room to be confronted by a smirking Mark.
‘Ooops’ he said ‘I did warn you. Come here’. Gordon walked over to where Mark stood. Mark reached up and slid two fingers between the collar and Gordon’s neck. ‘This is too loose’ he said, fastening the buckle another notch. ‘That’s better, now coffee, clear up and then have your drink. Gordon found it difficult working with the collar on, he had to bend to look down and twist his whole body to look sideways, instead of just his neck. He turned to Mark ‘How do you like your coffee?’ he asked, successfully fighting the urge to add the almost obligatory ‘Master’ afterwards. ‘Milk, one sugar’ came the answer. Gordon looked at Mark.
‘I don’t need you repeating Master or Sir after every sentence for you to understand who’s in charge here, and I won’t even give you the option’ Mark said. Gordon turned back and continued his tasks. He’d been set up again!.
It took him sometime to make the coffee and clear away, and once he’d finished he remembered that he was supposed to have a drink and did so. By this time Mark was working at the table on his laptop. Gordon finished his drink and was cleaning and drying the gloves when Mark looked up.
‘Don’t bother with that at the moment, under the cupboard you’ll find some disinfectant spray. Go and clean the downstairs bathroom, bath, sink outside of the toilet and all the surfaces. There’s a cloth under the sink as well. Once you’ve done that, then make sure those gloves are clean’ Gordon did as instructed, not overly keen on his new role as domestic skivvy.
Concentrating on his task, he heard Mark go up and down stairs a couple of times and when he went back into the room he saw that Mark had brought down his bag and a pile of coat hangers.
‘OK, dry those gloves off and then unpack your bag. Hang your stuff on the bar’. Gordon looked up and for the first time noticed a thin metal bar running diagonally across the room, from the middle of the wooden beam to the outside wall.
‘It’s called a tie bar. Not the type of tie you’re thinking of, it’s too thin. It ties the walls to the beam and prevents the walls from collapsing outwards. When, if we go outside’ Mark quickly corrected himself ‘you might notice some large metal discs on the walls. They’ve got a large nut in the middle and that’s what holds the whole thing together’.
Gordon was less interested in the engineering lesson, more so on the apparent lapse by Mark. He smiled inwardly. Perhaps Mark’s comments about who was in charge had a different purpose, not so much for Gordon’s benefit but for Mark’s self assurance. Until now Mark had been in control, and although Gordon had let Mark take the lead and was, so far, happy to do so, he did have his own ideas on what he was expecting. After all the CB 3000 was a piece of plastic and shouldn’t be too difficult to remove, locked on as it was, although the loss of credibility was a major concern.
As he pulled out his street clothes and shoes Mark instructed ‘Once the bag’s empty, those can go back in. Gordon took out his car keys, wallet and mobile phone. Mark took them ‘I’ll make sure these are kept in a safe place’ he remarked. One at a time Gordon unpacked the lycra suits and cycling gear he had brought with him and hung them up. He then pulled out and carefully unfolded the Orca Speedsuit and the O’Neill 5/4 Mutant and hung them up. He wasn’t to know, but Mark was impressed by the way he looked after this stuff. The hood for the Mutant was next and Gordon pushed the hanger through the neck so that the hood hung down, resting on the front of the suit.
He then took out the rest of the items. There was a set of hand and leg cuffs, a black leather hood and a ball gag on a single strap.
Mark looked in the bag. ‘No straight jacket? He enquired.
Fuck. Gordon shook his head and managed to keep a straight face. ‘I forgot’ he said ‘It’s still at home under my bed. I keep the suits and lycra out, but I keep that under the bed. I just forgot. Sorry’. He added.
Mark did not pursue the apology. Gordon sensed that, metaphorically speaking, the tide had turned
‘Let’s see you in the leather hood’ Mark instructed, handing it to Gordon who immediately pulled it on and started to try and fasten it behind his head. He felt Mark’s hands pull it down further, completely shutting out the light. Gordon’s cock twitched again. Suddenly he could see again. ‘Mmmm, it’s a bit loose on you, it could do with being a little tighter’. Mark turned the hood over in his hands and then casually tossed it back into the bag. ‘We won’t need any of that’ he said.
Gordon almost felt disappointed that he’d not been hooded for longer. He was getting confused in that his cock twitched again in anticipation and then and then the sensation subsided. He’d come to hate that small piece of plastic but, conversely, not being constantly reminded of its presence almost felt worse. He was confused but not for long. ‘Put your clothes and shoes back in the bag and then put it in the hall’. Gordon drew a little comfort that Mark appeared to be starting to struggle a little in his role as the dominant force and felt happier that, given time, he could begin to gain control of the situation and slowly steer it in his preferred direction.
When he came back Mark was sat on the sofa with the remote. ‘Sit down here’ he indicated a space on the floor next to Mark. The TV came on and Gordon recognised it as one of the more popular reality TV shows. It wasn’t one he watched regularly, but suddenly realised that it could at least give him a clue as to what the time was. The realisation was momentary. ‘It’s on Sky plus, and it’s not even this weeks’. With that statement, doubts crept back into Gordon’s mind.
As they sat and watched the show, Gordon at least started to take comfort that he might not have known what the time was, but the show lasted an hour so if they saw it to the end at least that would be one hour closer to having that damned torture instrument taken off his cock and balls. It finally finished.
‘Time to get you ready for bed’ Mark said, standing up. He motioned to Gordon to do the same and unfastened his collar.
‘If you need the toilet, better go now. When you get back, take off the ankle cuffs and strip. Leave the gloves on and hang your suit up with the others’. Gordon gratefully did as he was told successfully managing to clear his bowels. That was a relief as he wasn’t sure entirely sure whether Mark would actually let him shit himself while tied up.
He came back to find Mark holding out the Mutant suit.
OK, strip and get this on’. Gordon carefully undressed and hung the Sparkasse suit next to the others. He still wasn’t comfortable being naked, but realised that Mark was aware of his discomfort and was playing on it by pretending to examine the fastening system on the neck of the wetsuit as if it was faulty.
The suit was finally offered and he climbed into it carefully. He knew from experience that this was the easy bit. Getting it off was harder. He went to pick up the hood and put it over his head but stopped at Mark’s instruction. ‘Not just yet, leave that bit for the moment. Hands’. Gordon held up his hands and Mark ensured that the gloves were smoothed before checking the wrist seals.
Mark, realising that he had forgotten something, instructed ‘Go back up stairs and get the gloves and boots, they should be nearly dry. Oh and by the way’ Gordon had already started out the door and turned back ‘When you come back down stairs, try it with your eyes shut. Feel for the stair edge with your heel and you should be able to find the step below. It’ll be practice you might find useful’.
He didn’t elaborate so Gordon went and found the gloves and boots and stood at the top of the stairs and shut his eyes. It wasn’t actually that difficult, if you held onto the rail. The hardest part was when the stairs turned the corner, but Gordon knew where this was and successfully negotiated the last couple with ease. His cock started to harden for the umpteenth time as Gordon tried to imagine what was in store for him. He came back into the room and saw another large bag on the floor. Mark motioned to Gordon to put on the wetsuit gloves and boots and then proceeded to smooth the wetsuit over Gordon’s body, inducing that familiar but frustrating feeling in Gordon’s groin, not helped when Mark paid particular attention to that area with his hands.
Mark bent down and pulled something out of the bag. Gordon immediately recognised it as the climbing harness and took an involuntary step backwards, the session with the vibrators was still fresh in his mind and he wasn’t that keen on repeating the experience. Mark, seeing the reaction put the harness back in the bag and, as if unconcerned, retrieved the wrist cuffs from the floor. One in each hand, he held them out towards Gordon who slowly, in turn, offered his upturned hands and the cuffs were soon, once again, securely fastened around Gordon’s wrists. Things were looking better, only a matter of time, he thought.
‘OK, next door, time for another session on the beam’.
Gordon didn’t mind the beam so much, it was strong and secure, he thought, even better than the cage. The restraints Mark used could only be described as heavy duty and even if he hung his full weight from them they wouldn’t give way. He’d been tied up many times before, and sometimes had to stop himself from struggling as much as he would have liked for fear that he might actually free himself. No such worries here. He was soon in the familiar, to him, crucifix position, hands securely attached high on the beam, arms and legs spread wide, and kept firmly there by their respective restraints, although they seemed a little tighter and a little wider apart than before, but he gratefully opened his mouth to accept the almost obligatory gag. Once buckled that too seemed a little bigger and fastened just that little bit tighter than before but Gordon tested his bonds against the beam and the leg spreader, and was satisfied that they were secure. Handcuffs were very secure, but they chafed on bare skin, on neoprene, especially on lycra, and they allowed a lot more movement than this, he thought. He chewed on the gag a couple of times to get it to a comfortable position. He was back in his comfort zone, clad in tight fitting neoprene, gagged and secured, but not uncomfortably or painfully so and with that familiar but nagging aching in his groin.
Finally, as if he was satisfied with his surroundings, he stopped looking at, no, admiring, himself and his tautly stretched wetsuit clad body. He glanced towards Mark in expectation for what might be next. Would he add the collar, or the gas mask, or even a hood, or all three? He was secretly hoping for the collar and hood and had he not been gagged he would probably have told Mark, no, asked, he mentally corrected himself, what he wanted.
Realisation was slow. Mark was looking at him scornfully, arms folded across his chest, as if waiting to burst Gordon’s bubble.
‘Is Sir happy? Is Sir comfortable? Is there anything I can get Sir?’ Mark’s words were dripping with sarcasm. Gordon suddenly felt a twinge of concern. His shoulders visibly sagged. He’d been second guessed yet again.
Mark reached down and squeezed Gordon’s trapped cock and balls, much harder than before. ‘I think you’re in danger of forgetting who’s taking which part in this little session’. Mark continued. ‘Or precisely why you’re here and what you need to do to get out of this’. He still held Gordon’s balls and squeezed them again against the hard plastic. Gordon squirmed and made eye contact with Mark. ‘Glad to see I’ve your undivided attention’ the sarcasm continued. ‘Aside from that, you’ve so far not come up to scratch as far as your ability to follow even the most basic instructions is concerned. I think a little time for reflection is appropriate, to prepare you to try just that little harder next time, don’t you?’ Gordon would have gulped if the gag had let him, his complacency had completely disappeared.
Forgetting the cream
Not serving Mark first
The forgotten straight jacket.
The slammed door, the collar not fastened tightly enough.
The step backwards.
Big, big, mistake.
It’s still only Friday, isn’t it?
To be continued… In part 8.