Unknownwriter

Plugged In

Chapter One

The first time I was tied up, lead to the first time I had something in my bum, and both those events happened when I was eleven, with my babysitter. Of course, at that age I thought I was too old to have a babysitter, especially as that babysitter was only five years older than I was. Frank Hammond was his name, and looking back it was rather strange that he'd taken to babysitting to earn extra money, as he could easily have put himself out to stud, and earned a hell of a lot more.

Tall and muscular, with long fine, blond hair, cut into the then stylish 'curtains' format, was one of the most popular boys at Middleswitch Comp, where I would be joining him the following summer, although by then, Jack Morris had taken his place.

Anyway, as you can guess, I wasn't all that pleased about having a babysitter, even though I was still a little small for my age, and didn't even come up to anywhere near Frank's shoulders. Still, that didn't mean my mum could treat me like a little kid, did it. But she did, totally ignoring me while she told Frank the rules of his stay and even adding, in a half joking voice, that if I didn't settle down at the appointed time, Frank could tie me up.

Once mum had left I wasted no time, in making my feelings about the situation clear and generally acting just like I was the little kid, mum had warned about. Yet for most of the time Frank just ignored it and let me do what I wanted, which should have appeased me, but it didn't it just made me worse, until I just went a little too far.

Frank didn't do anything but he was slowly getting very annoyed with the way I was going on at him until eventually he clearly couldn't take it anymore, and got up from the couch with the words: "You know what your mum said."

I was stunned, as mum had said a lot of things, most of which I hadn't been listening too, although when Frank returned to the living room carrying a few lengths of rope, I had a better idea of what he meant to do.

"Hey, she was only joking," I protested, getting up, but it didn't make any difference.

Pushing me back down on the couch, in such a way that I twisted around and landed on my stomach on the seat. My arms were then instantly dragged behind my back, and with the wrists crossed over each other, Frank started looping the rope around them five or six times, and then two or three times in between the wrists before he pulled the ropes tight, into it felt like I was wearing a furry pair of handcuffs.

By the time my hands were immobile, I was starting to realise that Frank wasn't joking, so attempted to fight back, with the only things I still had available. My legs. However, I was only wearing a pair of shorts, and didn't have any shoes on so any blows that I managed to land didn't really make any difference, especially when Frank caught my legs in the croak of his arm and started to tie them up as well.

A loop of rope went around my feet which, like my hands had been before them, were crossed over each other at the ankles, before even more rope was applied around them, and then between them, before that too was tied off in a couple of knots.

"Almost finished Simon," Frank informed me. He still had two or three feet of rope left from my ankles, but before he did anything with that, he got off where he'd been sort of sitting on me, and pushed me further onto the coach. He then folded my legs up behind me, and threaded the rope coming from them, around and under my already bound arms, and pulled it tight. He then did this again, before tying the last of the knots a long way from anywhere I'd be able to reach them.

I was now stuck in what I would come to know as a hog tie, which we both knew I wasn't going to be getting out of any time soon. The ropes didn't actually hurt me, and it surprisingly wasn't all that uncomfortable. In fact it felt rather good in a strange way, although I'd never have admitted that at the time, of course.

"How do you like it?" Frank sat down on the coach next to me, reaching over to tickle me in the sides and then on the soles of my upturned feet before I could answer. "I don't think you'll be giving me anymore trouble now, do you?"

"Let me go?" I asked between the giggles I was struggling to hold down.

"I might, if you behave." The teenager told me. "Or I might just leave you like this until your mum comes home, to show her just what I had to do to keep you in order."

"Let me go!" I repeated, with even less conviction than before, as I was now having a very strange, yet good, sensations from down below. So good that I was grateful I was laying on my front and just hoped I wouldn't be turned over any time soon as I knew this would show through the trousers I was wearing, "How long are you going to keep me tied up for?"

"An hour to start with." Frank said, sitting back to watch the TV once more, "Although if you keep asking I might just carry you upstairs right as you are, and leave you there until your mum comes home."

The idea of his picking me up and therefore noticing the lump in my trousers, was enough to get me to stop asking the many questions that were now going around my head, as if having Frank see me like that would have been embarrassing, then that's nothing to what I'd have felt had my mum seen me, enjoying myself in the same way.

Time passed slowly for me, while Frank watched a show and then started into a movie. Every once in a while he would tell me to stop wriggling around so much, but he didn't actually do anything about the somewhat futile attempts I was making to escape. Occasionally he'd look down at me, and chuckle to himself as I attempted to pull at the ropes that bound me, but that was it. Yet, escape really wasn't the main reason I was moving about.

I couldn't see what was going on, and daren't look, but I knew that my eleven year old penis was the hardest it had ever been, and that the real reason I was wriggling about was to rub it against the couch.

Every half an hour or so, the wriggling I was doing would pay off, and my penis would start to jump about on its own three, four or five times, and the greatest feeling in the world would come right over me. I wasn't stupid so knew what was happening, but this was the first time it had actually happened to me without my hands being involved, but It wasn't going to be the last time, that was for sure. As once I'd rested for a few minutes I'd start the entire process all over again.

It was nearer two hours than the one, I'd been threatened with when Frank finally got around to starting to untie me, and I was sort of sorry about that, although I couldn't let him know. Still, it felt good to be able to stand up again, and move around once more.

"There," Frank said, as he coiled up the ropes once more, "Now you know what's going to happen if you don't behave, don't you."

"Yes!" I said, already thinking about what I could do to him next time, so he'd tie me up once more. Only the next time we were together, other things happened.

Chapter Two

"Hey what's this thing Frank!" I shouted from the bathroom, of Hammond house where I had been dropped a while earlier for my second boat of being babysat by sixteen year old Frank.

"I can't see through wall, Bring it out here."

Frank was making us a snack in the kitchen, while I'd gone for a pee, so that, once the food was out of the way, I would be able to get him to tie me up again. Only, I'd found the object in question, which was much more interesting, instead.

Placing the item on the kitchen table I watched with great satisfaction as Frank's handsome face went bright red, "It's nothing." He stammered.

"It looks like the balloon thing mum used to use for the enemas when I was younger." I smiled, enjoying him being on the back foot, "Only bigger!"

Unfortunately, from my point of view, Frank managed to pull himself quickly, "Well, it is like that, I guess."

"So what's it for?" I pushed on, hoping this would be enough to get me tied up again, "Who's is it? Is it yours? What do you use it for?"

"Women use it, to clean themselves out."

The honest answer surprised me as I just wasn't used to honest answers about such things. Not that it stopped my questions.

"But 3;but.. if women use it then why is it in your bathroom?"

"Because that's not all it can be used for."

"Then what?"

"Like you said. An enema!"

"But it's bigger than the one mum had." I picked it back up from the table, "Doesn't it hurt!"

"Not if you do it right!" Frank smiled. "Anyway, dinner's ready."

"Okay," I said, pulling out a chair and sitting on it quickly so he wouldn't be able to see the growing front of my trousers.

Throughout the meal my mind was mixed up, in a way it hadn't been since I'd been tied up that first time, only now, I couldn't help thinking about the enema douche that was sitting on the side, as if mocking me. And Frank noticed.

"Hey, watch what you're eating." He said a couple of times, adding on the second occasion, "Anyone would think you wanted to try that thing out, the way you keep looking at it."

"I wouldn't know how!" I answered before thinking, sending my face bright red once more.

"Well, I could show you, I guess but you've got to promise not to tell anyone, okay."

"Sure." I smiled at him.

"Right then, finish your tea and then we'll go to my room."

It was half an hour later when we ended up in Frank's bedroom, me standing beside the bed, while he lay out a large towel over the stripped back mattress, on which he placed the douche and a small jar of Vaseline.

"Right take off your trousers and lie down on your side, on the towel, with your back towards me."

I did as I was asked, keeping my back to him at all times, until I was laying on the bed wearing just my t-shirt, socks and boxers.

"Okay, that's good. Just pull down your boxers onto the backs of your legs will you."

This I did, very aware that I was now exposing my peach soft eleven year old bum to the teenager. Not that Frank seemed to find this the slightest bit strange, as he maintained the same, attitude he had when he'd tied me up, as if this was the most ordinary thing in the world. I though, shivered slightly as his fingers spread apart my buttocks and pressed an generous slap of Vaseline right on time of my hole.

"I'll be back in a moment." He then said, leaving me laying there, while he went into his bathroom and filled the basin with lukewarm water, that he then sucked up into the balloon fitted to the back of the douche, until it was full.

Once more my buttocks were pried open, put this time the tip of the nozzle was pressed against the hole. There it sat for a moment, before more pressure was applied, and with a little twist of Frank's wrist, it very slowly started to glide inside me.

"Oh!" I asked at the odd sensation of the black nozzle going inside my bottom.

"See, it's okay, isn't it?" he asked, giving it a little twist that cause it to touch something deep inside me, that caused me to bend my legs a little tighter to my chest.

Frank laughed at my reaction, said, "That's far enough this time, I think!" and then started to squeeze the balloon.

The sensation of the water filling my insides was the strangest thing I'd felt up to that date, and yet it wasn't overly unpleasant, even if it did mean that I couldn't keep my legs bent, and had to straighten them out which, exposed the hardness that was standing up from between my legs, where my foreskin had already retracted from on top of the mushroom shaped crown, but, by then I didn't care.

"Okay, the balloon is empty now, so I'm going to pull it out, and then you can go and empty yourself, into the toilet, okay?"

I was blushing when I got up from the bed, not least due to the erection I still had, but also to the realisation that he was obviously going to know that I was going to be going to the toilet which was, somehow more embarrassing than everything that had just happened.

"So what did you think of that then?" Frank asked me when I finally emerged from the bathroom.

"It was okay?" I shrugged.

Frank didn't look up, sat there on the bed looking at me. "Did you like the water or the nozzle best?"

"Well, the water was messy so I guess the nozzle."

For a moment Frank didn't say anything, but then he half whispered, "There are other things you can use instead of the nozzle."

"Like what?" I asked, almost instantly.

He didn't say anything, just reached down beside, and under his bed, bring up a small cloth bag that he emptied out.

There weren't all that many things in the Frank's bag, but all of them were new to me. The vibrators and even the regular penis shaped dildos were fairly obvious as to their use but the butt plugs were something I had no idea about and Frank needed to explain what they were for and why they were shaped how they were. That alas, was as far as we got, for at that very moment, my mum knocked on the door, and sent both of us into a total panic.

I never was never baby sat by Frank Hammond after that day. My mum asked him, but he always said 'no' which naturally disappointed me greatly but there was nothing I could do about it. By the time I'd joined him at Middleswitch Comp, I didn't even need him anymore as I'd found ways to entertain myself.

Chapter Three

Time passed by, and without access to any of the toys Frank Hammond had, I lost some of my interested in what was going on with my bum, but not my thoughts about being tied up.

I gained some new friends at Middleswitch Comp, but none to whom I would risk telling just what I was getting up to at home, on my own, with the help of the school library.

There were, I soon discovered any number of books in the school library that involved someone, usually the hero, or the hero's sidekick, being tied up at some point or other. These, were soon the passages I went looking for, with just the intention of reading them, over and over again, while I played with my erection. Until that is, I came across one in a little know boy detective novel, where the hero, having just been for a swim, was caught by the bad guys and suspended over a pool of crocodiles by his hands.

I read, and then re-read this passage time and time again, as I just couldn't get it out of my head, until it became so lodge there, that I just knew I was going to have to try it out for myself.

Thankfully the local park was little used, and after only half a day of searching I managed to find a tree that was just perfect for what I had in mind as it was hung over the side of a pond, buried way back in the rear of the park. To get to it, I had to climb over a rusty metal fence, and then crawl through some underbrush, before edging around the tree itself, so I could stand on the only piece of flat ground between it and the water, some five feet below.

The second time I went to the tree I took with a two length of rope that would be easily sturdy enough to hold my then twelve year old, weight as I was still rather small. These I looped separately over two different branches that came out from the tree over the water, and swung on them for a few minutes to check they would take me. They did.

I then tied ready made loops into the end of the ropes, into which I could put my wrists, so that my arms where just a little bit above my head. The idea being that I could then simply step off the little ledge I was on, the ropes would tighten and I would be left hanging there. Then, once I'd had enough I'd just swing back to the ledge and climb up onto it.

My erection was already visible in the front of my jeans, the first time I stepped up to the ropes, but there was a flaw in my plan, for while the ropes did, indeed hold my body weight and I did end up suspended over the water below, the cords were anything but comfortable on my wrists, and even though I was forced to abandon the experiment after a less than a minute, the marks from the ropes remained for nearly a week. Clearly I was going to have to think of some other way to do it.

In the months that followed, I tried out a few other experiments, with varying degrees of success from wearing a pair of over sized boots filled with rocks, to make walking as difficult as possible, and even tying slats of wood to the outsides of my legs, like a split. Yet my mind kept coming back to the suspension problem.

I found other ways of suspending myself from trees, just not the one over the water. For this one I needed a taller tree and one I could climb easily with two branches almost on top of each other, but separated by a few feet.

Climbing first to the top branch, I tied off my ropes, close to the trunk, so that they hung down, just passed the lower branch. Then I climbed down to that branch and put my ankles into the loops at the end of the ropes, so I could suspend myself totally upside down.

It worked perfectly too and with my ankles protected by the legs of my jeans, and the socks beneath, I could hang there, with my finger tips a good foot above the ground, for as long as I wanted which was wonderful, as it felt great swinging there gently while I looked up at the sky through the branches of the tree I was suspended from.

Eventually I had to get myself down again, and this was easily done, by swinging myself towards the tree trunk, which I then gripped in my hands, and then slowly pulled myself up until I was back on the branch again and could untie my ankles.

By the time, summer started to turn into winter, and I was getting close to my thirteenth birthday, I was suspending myself from a tree every weekend when the weather wasn't against me. Then in November I finally hit upon the idea that would enable me to perform my original stunt. All I had to do was make some longer rope that I could step into, and form into a sort of harness that would hold me, and take some of the weight from my wrists. Perfect.

It worked perfectly and finally I was able to suspend myself over the water like I'd read about in the book, supported not just by my wrists but also by the ropes around my legs, that, naturally pulled into my groin that – I was to quickly to discover – provided just enough friction to cause my erection to throb itself to orgasm.

However, that first time also proved to be the last time, as the next time I went back to the tree in order to do it all over again, I was shocked to find that all my ropes – which I left there between visits – had gone. Of course, I didn't know if someone had just come across them and taken them for some reason of their own, or if they somehow knew what I'd been up to, but there was no way I was going to take the chance, so I never went back there again.

My games, though, continued.

Chapter Four

The summer I turned thirteen I got what turned out to be my greatest present ever. A real life pair of handcuffs.

Mum thought they were a joke present, and was laughing when I opened them, but little did she know that just by feeling the cold steel my erection was just as hard as the solid metal cuffs and that was the reason I stayed sitting with the box they'd come in, on my lap for as long as I did.

It didn't take me long discover how I could handcuff my hands behind my back, and, just as long as I would be able to reach the key then I'd be able to let myself go again. It was sometimes a little tricky to do, given the angle of the cuffs and everything, but it was always possible.

A few nights after that, I had another idea. Waiting for my mum to go to bed, I got out of my bed, and put the handcuff key on the other side of the room, before climbing back onto my mattress, and cuffing my hands behind my back.

It was an instant thrill, to be laying there handcuffed in the dark, but there was more. I was already hard, – had been since I'd got the handcuffs out – and the thin pyjama trousers I was wearing did little to hide that fact, so there was really no point in wearing them, so I took them off. What's more I didn't even un-cuff my hands to do it. Just worked them down with my hands still behind my back, and the kicked them off the rest of the way.

That first night, I lay naked and chained on my bed for only half an hour before I couldn't take it anymore.

Climbing from my bed, naked, my erection leading the way, I crept over in the dark for where I'd left the key, and after some time was able to release myself. Then I went right back to bed, and gave my erection the attention it needed.

From that night on, it became a regular thing for me to handcuff myself in one way or another, when I went to bed, although I never actually made it all the way through the night before I released myself so I could take care of business. I did through try out a few other ways of chaining myself up, and performing other additions to what I was doing.

One night, I cuffed my hands to the bedpost over my head. I had to keep the key to the cuffs, in my hands, which rather spoilt it, but it was a great feeling all the same, especially when it proved to be a real struggle to unlock the cuffs. But, in the end, I stopped doing that as there was just too much chance of dropping the key, which would have, obviously been a disaster.

It wasn't just at night that I used the cuffs either, as whenever my mum wasn't at home – I was left on my own now – I would slip them on and wonder around the house, as if I was a prisoner there which was now my favoured plot device especially once I saw a movie on TV about a teenager escaping from a juvenile prison where he'd been taken, unjustly. The image of him running through the woods, in handcuffs and shackles was one I became desperate to reproduce.

Thankfully it was still summer when I picked out an area in the same woods that had seen me suspending myself from trees a year or so earlier, and, in fact that self same tree, would be the perfect place, I decided, to end my adventure, so it was there that I hid the key to my handcuffs, in a place where I could easily reach it, even with my hands behind my back.

Heading back around the main paths, on my bike, I made my way to the place where I'd hung upside down, as that was where my adventure as a prisoner was going to start. The place I would be escaping from.

In order to recreate the movie as much as possible I'd brought a few things along with me, other than the handcuffs. These included a my bike lock, a wide leather dog collar, a short length of chain, some duct tape, and a pair of cuffs for my ankles that I made from an old belt in such a way that they could be locked with only a foot or so of space between my feet.

The first thing I did was to chain my bike up to one of the roots of the tree, and then to cover it over with some branches and bits of bush, so that even if someone did happen to come by they wouldn't see it. Then I got changed into my costume.

In the movie, the youth had escaped from a work camp in one of the hotter US states, and, as he was being punished for continually going on about his innocence, he'd had all his clothes taken away from him, leaving him in just his underwear. So this is what I wore.

Removing my shirt, jeans, my socks and shoes, I put them all into the rucksack I'd used to carry everything into the woods, and this I then hide a short distance from my bike in a bush.

I was now in the woods wearing nothing but a pair of somewhat tight, light blue, boxer briefs, that did little to hide my body, or just how excited I was about what I was about to do. Yet that, was all part of the fun, even if my privates were a lot better defined than the anonymous lump the TV actor had in his shorts.

Crouching down, I put the ankles shackles on. Buckling one around each of my ankles, and then locking them into place with a pair of tiny padlocks that I'd bought at the local hardware store, just for this job. A short length of light chain, joined them together, so that I was hobbled with a maximum twelve inch [30 cm] step. This, experimentation had told me, would be enough to allow me to walk, just not easily.

A gag was next which was something I hadn't done before, and which I couldn't do like in the movie, as there, the youth had had a stick put in his mouth sideways, which was then fastened behind his head, in a way I'd never been able to work out. So failing that, I resorted to a more standard duct tape approach. Putting the wide and extra sticky tape, over my mouth and then passing the roll around the back of my head, before going over my mouth again, and repeating until I couldn't make more than a mumbled sound.

With any protests I wasn't all that likely to make, I put the collar on next. This just buckled around my neck like it would have on a dog, one instead of a lead attached to the back, I did it so the buckle was at the back, and the ring was at the front. To this ring I padlocked, with another of the small locks, a six inch [15 cm] length of chain, to the other end of which, the handcuffs were already locked.

Finally there was only one thing left to do, and that was to put my wrists into either side of the handcuffs and to lock them shut. The only way I could no undo them was to walk to the other tree I'd suspended myself from and get the key.

For only the second time I had the sensation of being truly helpless, handcuffs, gagged and shackled as I was, quite some distance from the only key that could free me. The terrain between me and there, was largely unkempt woodland, and given that I clearly wasn't going to be travelling on any of the main, if little used, paths, this meant there were fallen trees, and some thick bushes that I would have to get passed. All of which may have been awkward under normal circumstances, but restrained, and nearly naked as I was, made for a slow and difficult journey.

Progress towards the key was very slow, as I had to take my time, going either over, under or around the many obstacles that came into my way, even though, more often than not, the actual choice open to me was made by the way I was tied up. My hands chained in front of my chest, being of little use to move items out of the way, while my bare feet always choose the softest option.

Before long not only were my feet black and muddy, but so was I. Not only that but I was getting tired much faster than I'd expected, and being covered in sweat was hardly helping matters. Yet, all the time, I had the constant feeling of being so turned on, that I just couldn't stop. My hands being chained to the collar couldn't reach down to the tent post that was poking out the front of my tight underwear, to give my erection the release it so desperately needed so I had to keep going, just so I could have a wank.

I made it, eventually, to the bottom of the small hill the tree with the key was on, without incident, but soon found that climbing up any kind of slope is a lot harder when your feet are both bare and shackled together and I fell over more than once. Landing with a thump on all occasions, and taking a rest like that before pushing myself back into a seating position, and then rocking myself back up onto my feet so I could continue my journey towards the key.

Finally at the top of the hill I staggered over to the tree and with just two attempts was able to retrieve the key from where I'd stashed it. It did, however, take some time for me to be able to free my hands from the handcuffs and then I only managed to get one loose before the pressure in my groin became to much. So it was that the main part of my adventure ended with me still gagged and shackled, and with one hand still attached to a dog collar around my neck, while the other roughly pushed down the only item of clothing I was wearing, and masturbated myself to my first wet climax that was followed a few seconds later by a second dry one.

Once I'd recovered from the double orgasm, not to mention the shock of producing sperm for the first time, I released my other hand, but before I started on the return journey, I washed most of the much off my body, before making the much more sedate trip back to my bike and then home.

Chapter Five

Winter hit with a vengeance bringing an end to my adventures in the woods, and for a short while to all my self bondage activities too, although some of that had to do with the other things I was starting to get up to, for even while I'd been busy tying myself up in one way or another, my mind would still, on occasion, drift back to those days with Frank Hammond, and in particular Frank's bag of toys.

By the age of fourteen, as I was now, I had more knowledge then I'd had when I'd first seen them but there were still great gaps in what I know, and what I thought I knew. I now knew that boys as well as girls could be fucked, and how, but what I didn't understand was what the one getting fucked got out of it. I could understand how having your prick inside a hot, tight hole would be exciting – even though I'd never done it of course – but not what the other way around. Of course there had been my experience with the douche nozzle, which I was fully aware had given me an erection, but I was still dismissing that as the water, rather than the nozzle itself.

These thoughts, and others like them, were playing through my head one night, as I lay in bed one night listening to the rain pound against my bedroom window. Sleep wasn't going to happen soon, so I allowed my hands to go inside the boxer shorts I was wearing, and explore the possibilities.

Parting my legs, I folded them, so that the soles of my feet were pressed into each other, while my knees pointed outwards. This, opened up the crack between my buttocks and allowed my fingers easier access to the hole that was there.

Slowly my right hand slipped down the v shape at the bottom of my belly, past my semi-erection, over my nuts, and then down into the somewhat sweaty crack behind where the hole lay waiting for it.

A single finger extended from my hand to locate the hole, and gave a push which, it has to be said, was rather less than pleasurable, as I'd forgotten all about the lubrication that Frank had used before he had slipped anything inside me, but, despite the pain, there was a definitely positive reaction from the rest of my body.

No sooner had my finger entered my anus, and even though it had gone no deeper than the first knuckle, my erection became not only totally hard, but a small drop of pre-cum appeared, as if by magic at the top.

It was a strange feeling to have a finger in my bum, but there was stranger to come, as when I attempted to ease a little more of my finger inside me, I found that once I'd got passed the knuckle, I could bend my finger this way and that, and explore my insides like I'd never done before. And it was while I was doing this that I re-discovered that special spot that had excited me so much with Frank and, with that my erection erupted, all over my belly and chest, without me having a hand anywhere near it.

That was the first of many experiments I was to carry out of the next few weeks, all of which confirmed the conclusions of that first night. The pleasure I'd felt at Franks was nothing to do with the water at all. All the pleasure came from having something inside my bum. Something solid. And the experiments didn't stop there either.

Soon there was more than just my finger going inside me, as I hunted around first my room, and then the rest of the house for things that I could insert into my own bottom. Pencils and pens were my favourite, even though the shiny surfaces did become a little slippy to hold onto once they were coated in the Vaseline, that I was now buying on the sly to make my little games all the more comfortable. And that's probably how things would have continued had it not been for a kid's show I happened upon early one morning.

The show wasn't anything special, and I wasn't really watching it, but there was nothing else on, that was of any interested so it kept playing in the corner, as the presenter went on demonstrating yet another way to make at home, some toy or other. Not that I ever found out what the eventual thing was meant to be as I didn't watch the programme that far through. All I saw was the skeleton of the thing, that had been made from some doubled over electrical cable, which, the presenter pointed out, would be "Strong enough and yet flexible". It looked, I thought at once, just like a prick. And, as the demonstration continued it began to look even more like one.

Half an hour later, I'd raided the shed, for the same things the TV show had, helpfully, continued to list, as needed to make the demonstration. Namely, some electrical cable, some old bits of rag, and sticky tape.

The cable came first, a twelve inch [30 cm] long piece of standard three core, that could be folded in half, and the two ends taped to each other. This, as had been demonstrated, increased the strength yet kept the entire thing flexible. It was more like a stick than what I wanted at this point, but by adding a second piece of cable bent over the first, at right angles to it, the skeletal shape of a prick started to form.

The rags came next, and these were used to build up the shape of the object, and to pad out the space between the cables, so that they wouldn't fold in on themselves. One rag pushed inside near the top, for added strength before the rest were added behind it, inside the framework I'd created. The final rag going around the outside, to help hold everything together.

Carefully, I took measurements of what I was doing, all the time, to ensure that it didn't get too big and remained, no bigger than my own erection although that was about the only thing it had in common with it, as rather than make it a model I'd decided to ensure that the head was kept smaller than the rest, rather than building it out, like my penis was, as I thought – rightly – that this would make things easier for me.

The object was now nearly finished apart from the outer skin. On TV this had been some brightly coloured, sticky plastic but I had my own idea about what I could use, and that was duct tape.

Naturally I had quite a lot of duct tape hanging around, as it made a perfect gag and could, be used to tie my legs up with as well. This also meant that I knew how to use the tape and not just to wrap it around, but to stretch it out so that it bound everything tightly to create an even surface.

Some ten minutes later I finally cut the roll free and got my first look at the sex toy I'd made for myself. It was now a little over five inches [13 cm] in length, but a little thinner than I'd intended, thanks to the tightness of the tape that now crinkled and crackled slightly under the touch of my hand as it absentmindedly drifted up and down the smooth surface. The texture beneath being, surprisingly just like the feel of a real prick, but colder, obviously, as the rags gave it a firm and yet sponge like texture, while the cables in the centre, kept it strong and in shape. The only question was now, would it work. There was only one way to find out.

I moved to the privacy of my own room before I took off my clothes. I was hard, of course, and my erection flicked and flexed as I tossed my clothes into a corner, and fetched the Vaseline from where it was hidden.

I applied a more than liberal amount of the jelly to the sex toy I'd made, before doing the same to my bum hole, even pushing my finger a little way inside – which I could do without even noticing it by then – to make sure I was well lubricated. I then knelt at the end of my bed, and leant over it, but keeping my thighs as straight as possible so that my bum was raised high in the air, to make it the perfect target for the toy.

The first touch of the slimy, slippy end to my crack made my entire body shiver with excitement, but that was nothing to what I felt when I pressed the tip into myself. Nothing at all.

Leaning harder onto the one elbow, I performed all the shame shivers and shakes that I had done from the douche nozzle, only this time I had no reason to hide them, as with far more easy that I'd ever imagined my bottom opened up to accept what I was feeding it.

The home made dildo was around three quarters of the way in when it hit the bump in the road, that caused my entire body to seem to glow at once and then, after a few minutes of twisting and turning, it worked its way passed and, finally slipped all the way inside me.

"Oh yeah!" I sighed as my fingers no longer had enough of the dildo to hold onto, as it was now, all the way inside me and I realised that I no longer had to look for things to push up my bottom, or wonder what Frank's toys would be like as I could now make anything I wanted, any size or shape, just the same as I'd made the one I now had. There, was, however still one problem I needed to overcome.

By now I'd been kneeling down for some time, and my knees were starting to ache, so I needed to stand up, however, when I raised my torso from the mattress, I instantly felt the dildo start to slip out of my bum. No matter how hard I clenched I just couldn't hold it in, which was clearly a design fault I could work out, but right now, it was something of a major problem, and I'd have to find someway of holding it in which I would do over the next few days by copying the shapes I'd seen in Franks collection.

Chapter Six

Once more I checked that I was doing everything I could to prevent accidents. I'd already tested my new combination lock three times, and each time it had worked perfectly. I'd even set the combination to the default 1234, so there would be no chance I wouldn't be able to remember it. Likewise, the timer switch had been tested the same number of times, and was, I'd found, accurate to within a minute or two. And, finally, the lamp that was going to be on the floor had two new bulbs – both of them "longer lasting", so there was no way, they wouldn't come on, when I wanted them to. So, that was it. The plan was set, and I had over an hour to carry it out.

In fact I probably had two hours, or even more, but that was fine, as it would allow a little extra time for the clear up, not to mention that it gave me time to spend doing the thing that I loved to do best after I'd played such games.

With all the equipment already in place, I changed out of the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing and into a pair of old shorts I'd found. I hadn't worn these since I was twelve, or perhaps even younger, so they were rather tight, and clung to me all over. So much so, that I could almost have been naked, as you could clearly see not only the outline of my bum, but had a pretty good view of the crack as well. And that's nothing to what they did to my dick and nuts, of course, which were pretty much, out there on show to anyone who would see them. Not that anyone would see them, but that wasn't the point.

The location of this game was the garage, as that was the only place I could think off that could be made totally dark and, at the same time, had the sort of support post I wanted. The only drawback was that, it wasn't directly attached to the house, so in order to get there, I had to walk out of the back door – locking it behind me – and then sneak around the side of the house, through part of the garden and then into the garage.

Inside the garage everything I needed was already laid out, along with a load of other junk that my parents had dumped there, and which I'd had to clear away from the single wooden post that held up the ceiling, near the back, where some previous owner had added a bit onto the back of the garage. I'd also covered over the two windows, so no light would get in, meaning that once the door was closed the garage would be totally black. Just how I would eventually want it. Before then, however, I had a couple of things to do.

I needed the main light on at this point, as I wanted to make sure I got the ropes done just right, and couldn't do that in the dark.

There were two lengths of white cord, laying on the side ready for me to use. The shorter of these, I used first to bind my ankles together, in the clinch fashion that I'd recently learned by running the rope around the outside a few times, and then circling it, around the cords and between my legs, so that the cords were pulled tighter.

I then repeated this, with the longer rope, higher up my legs, just above my knees, which was slightly more difficult as by then, I couldn't separate my legs all that well.

The gag was next. This was a simple one, and again something that I'd recently learned. It featured just a long strip of cloth, which I'd spun, into a sort of cord, and then tied a big knot right in the centre. This knot, I then put into my mouth, all the way back, until it slipped behind my teeth. The ends of the cloth then came out the sides of my mouth. These I pulled behind my head, and tied off as tight as I could turning it into a very effective gag, even if I had over estimated the length of the cloth I would need, and was left with a good six inches [15 cm] on each end hanging down my back.

Gagged and with my legs bound I was ready now for the main part of my adventure, so after picking up the combination lock, I very carefully bent down and switched on the timer, and listened to make sure that it was ticking away the time. Then I turned off the garage light.

Instantly I was plunged into pitch blackness that was, far more total than I every thought it would be but at least that would mean I wouldn't need the airline blindfold, that had been my back up plan, as it was tricky enough to hop my way over to the support beam as it was. Still I made, it and turned myself around until I could back up to it. Then, I simply put my arms around behind both my back and the beam, and fitted the combination lock through the links of the chains that I'd previous padlocked around my wrists. I had a final, listen to the silence, and then I snapped the lock shut.

It was done.

In the pitch black of the garage there was no way I could see the dial on the combination lock, in order to line up the numbers so I could free myself until the timer turned on the double bulbs of the lamp in half an hours time. And, because of the way my hands were locked, until that time, there was no way, I was going to be able to do anything about the erection that was now tenting up the front of my too tight shorts, even more than it had been when I'd started all this. The sensations that would produce were well worth the wait. However, things didn't quite go to plan.

About ten minutes into the plan, I heard this strange clicking noise. It was only one sound, and yet, immediately, after it, the entire world seemed to go deathly silent. It didn't take me long to realise what was wrong, not once I noticed that I could no longer hear the ticking coming from the timer switch, nor see the faint red light that I had covered with sticky tape but which, up until that moment I'd still been able to make out. The power was out.

The timer would come back on when the power did, but when would that be, I had no idea, and I didn't fancy being stuck where I was, when it happened. Yet, turning around, as best I could, I found I was able to just about make out the combination lock but not, frustratingly, any of the numbers on it.

Standing in the dark, not knowing when I was going to be free again, should have been frightening, but it wasn't. It was the opposite in fact. It was exciting. Very exciting. Even when the phone rang in the house, I could have laughed, had I not gagged myself, as I imagined myself answer it by saying how I was a "little tied up and couldn't come to the phone". And that thought, kept me going, right up until the time I heard a door open.

I was facing away from the door I had come in through, and towards the up-and-over door that a car would use, but hadn't really thought anything about it. Until a shadow moved across the very edges of my peripheral vision.

"Who's there?" I said, or rather I didn't say as obviously I couldn't say anything like real words not that I really expected whoever had come in to actually answer me, anyway, in the first place, as if they were going to do that, then they'd have done so before they came in. Still, it didn't matter as I was prepared enough to have an excuse all ready and just as soon as the newcomer removed my gag, then I'd tell, him, or her, how some of my mates had done this to me as a prank. Unfortunately, I never got the chance.

Suddenly I was aware of a figure standing directly behind me, and thinking they were looking for a way to undo my gag, I bent my head forwards to give them access to the knots. This, inadvertently, allowed them to slip the airline, blindfold over my eyes, so that even what little vision I'd become accustomed to was taken from me. And they weren't done yet.

The next thing I felt, was fingers messing with the knots on the gag, so finally I thought I was going to be allowed to talk, however instead of release it they used it to increase my bondage by pulling my head back with the two long strands I'd left, which they then tied tightly behind the beam.

My head was now stuck firmly to the beam, with the back of my skull, pressing tight into the wood and unable to move at all.

Something then looped around my waist from behind and it wasn't hard to guess that it was a belt, especially when I could feel the two ends of the wide leather, pulling onto my stomach as one was threaded into the buckle, and the entire thing pulled tight, trapping the middle of my body back into the post.

Three more belts were then applied to me to do the same function around my chest and upper arms, and then, the final two, going over the ropes that were already binding my thighs and ankles together so that I was totally stuck, standing bolt upright, against the post, and unable to move a muscle by someone who had yet to say a single word to me.

I attempted to struggle, but even if I had been able to see the combination, I doubt I'd have been able to get out of all the belts, as I just couldn't turn my head anymore to see what I was doing, not that I could actually see anything, of course. Other than that, it didn't take me long to realise that I was now bound more securely than I'd ever been bound before, and that there was now no way I was going to be able to get loose until the mysterious stranger decided to let me go.

The visitor must have been standing directly in front of me waiting for me to stop struggling, for the moment I did, they gave me something to really complain about. When I felt their fingers start to toy with the draw string on my shorts.

My cries of "Don't!" were trapped behind my gag, of course, so I did the only thing that I could do, and pushed down with my feet, to give a little jump as a sign of displeasure over what was happening. Not that it made the slightest bit of difference of course, as the waist fastening on the only item of clothing I was wearing was totally released, and the garment itself was then worked down to my thighs.

It must have taken nearly two minutes for the stranger to get me fully exposed, as not only where the shorts really that tight, but with my bum pressed tight against the beam from all the belts, the shorts had to be worked slowly, from side to side, in order to work them down. Of course, once the shorts were more than half way down, my erection was able to spring up, free and wave about in the air for all – but me – to see. Just not for long.

The air was cool as it blew across my now exposed groin, and then it wasn't, as I was soon experiencing an odd sensation of warmth right around the end of my erection, like I'd never felt before. A sensation that was so strange, it took me an age, to realise that it was that of someone having taken my erection into their mouth and giving me a blow job.

Never once, in all the times I'd wonder about what would happen if someone had caught me doing one of my games, had the idea the idea that I'd get a blow job out of it, occurred to me. Most of the time, these scenarios would end with me giving one of them a blow job, not the other way around, and yet, despite the fact that I couldn't see anything, that is certainly what was happening now.

Gradually, I was aware of my erection being sucked, even more deeply into the mouth, and then being ever so slowly extracted again. It was my first ever blow job, so it should be no surprise that it only took a few seconds before I felt the start of an orgasm building inside me, and then shoot out of my erection directly into the mouth of whoever was sucking me off.

The blow job probably didn't last more than a couple of minutes, and no words were spoken at all either before, during, or after it. The mysterious person, even did me the courtesy of pulling my shorts back up, before they unbuckled the belt from around my chest and waist, and undid the knots that held my gag to the beam. Then, as a final act, they slipped the blindfold from my head, and left me there.

It took nearly an hour, I later worked out, before the power came back on, and then a further twenty minutes before the timer did it's thing and gave me the light which I needed to be able to see the combination lock that held my wrists behind the post. Once that was off, freeing myself from the rest of my bondage was easy, which was just as well as I didn't have all that long before my parents got home.

Later I wondered if I'd dreamed the entire thing, but figured I couldn't have, especially as I had cum stains in my shorts, and marks around my waist and chest from the belts that had held me in place, while I was given my first ever blow job. That though did leave me with the question of just who it had been that had sucked me off. Something that it would take months for me to answer.

Chapter Seven

My surprise at having my dick sucked, put something of a curtail on my self bondage events for a short while, as that was pretty much all I could think about, only I never got the chance to try anything like it out again for some time, as my parents suddenly decided that they weren't going to leave me at home any more for a while, so I had to find other things to do. Or, rather, other toys to play with and I had a few of those by then.

Ever since my first attempts at making dildos I had continued to improve upon the original design so that not only were they a lot more realistic, but also came in a variety of styles, shapes and designs. These varied from the original one I'd used, up to some that were quiet large, and for which I'd used the cap from a spray can, to give a more realistic feel and appearance to the crown. And then there were the butt plugs.

I'd always been fascinated more with the idea of a boy's bum being plugged rather than those shaped like fake dicks. Of course, the later were rather easier to construct, given my lack of knowledge, but, I did have those memories of the things I'd seen in Frank Hammond's bedroom, a few years earlier, so knew the general shape, I was aiming for. Even if it did take me more than a few attempts to get it right and a few more tries after that in order to get used to wearing one.

Now the routine was the same. Whenever I could, I'd get one of my butt plugs and a tub of lubricant, and slip the former inside me with the help of the other. Then, I'd try to carry on as if nothing was up.

Walking started out a bit hesitantly, with a butt plug inside me, and so was sitting down, especially comfortable on a hard surface, which could lead to a fair bit of shuffling about in order to get comfortable, and not let out any sort of moans or groans, should the plug touch that special spot inside me.

Before long though, I would be able to hide the fact I had a mess of cables and rags, covered in duct tape, stuffed up my bum, enough that I would risk wearing one when I went downstairs to do my chores, or just to spend time with mum and dad. Who, thankfully never seemed to notice the dreamy look, the stiffened walk, or the near constant erection that wearing a butt plug, gave me.

In the privacy of my room, I was less cagey about hiding what I was doing, and would move around naked, late at night, with my erection poking out in front, and the rim of the butt plug poking out from between my buttocks, as I moved around, or did my homework, or whatever it was that I was doing, most of which had very little to do with homework.

A thought had occurred to me, one day, when I was locking my bike up at school with the provide U shaped lock, of another use I could put it too, and that night, I had done so putting the U part of the lock around my neck and the frame of my bed. I had to sit on the floor – with a cushion – to do this, but it worked perfectly. Sitting with my back against the end frame of the bed, I positioned the straight, locking part, through the bars behind my head, slipped the U section around my neck, and then clicked the two together.

It worked perfectly, but for the obvious draw back that I had to have the key to hand so I could unlock myself again, but I soon came up with a way to make this more interesting just as I had done with the combination lock down in the garage by freezing the key in a block of ice. That way, I wouldn't be able to let myself go until the ice had melted and it would be like I was a real prisoner, stuck there.

The first time I tried it, I discovered that the ice would take nearly three hours to melt, and that, if I threaded a piece of chain around the U lock before I locked it, then I could attach my hands, in handcuffs naturally, to the U lock as well, to complete the feeling of being totally helpless, especially if I left the handcuff key, on the other side of the room, out of reach, but still in sight. For that extra teasing.

Unfortunately that wasn't something I could do all that often as I didn't have a decent excuse to leave the bike lock in my bedroom, especially as I did need it to lock my bike up at school so had to think up other adventures.

I started to challenge myself in various ways that went back to how some of my earliest bondage fantasies had started out. It wasn't all that uncommon for me to sleep with the handcuffs on, although I did this with my hands in front as if they were behind my back it was just too uncomfortable to sleep but now I added in the extra incentive of placing the key somewhere where'd I'd have to go and get it before I could free myself.

The first few times I did this it was fairly easy, as the key would be in my room somewhere, so I'd just have to get out of bed and feel my way to where it was, which wasn't all that tricky, even if I was wearing my makeshift leg shackles and a dog collar to which I could attach the handcuffs so it wouldn't be easy to get my hands down to the erection that I would always have by that stage.

The next part of the challenge was now clear, I'd have to leave the key somewhere else in the house, which I did, first out on the hall, so I'd have to creep out of my bedroom to get it, but then getting more and more adventurous, until I was leaving it in the freezer, encased in ice, so that even when I'd gone all the way downstairs with my hands cuffed to my collar, and my ankles shackled, I'd still have to wait in my room for the key to defrost before I could free myself.

Another time I used the blindfold to make it more interesting, and then I added the butt plug into the mix. Getting up in the night, to sneak out, fully dressed, to the garage, where I'd leave the butt plug, ready greased up, in the middle of the floor. Then I'd return to me room and strip naked so I could get ready for the adventure.

Placing the blindfold over my eyes, I'd put leg shackles on my ankles, and then handcuff my hands behind my back. Then I would be off, to the garage without being able to see anything.

The journey was slow, as I had to be obviously very careful not to either walk into anything, or make enough noise to wake anyone else up. (I had considered putting ear plugs in, but thought this a touch too far!) as I made my way out of my room, and then, with extra caution down the stairs. The back door, I'd have to open, by turning around and working it with my hands behind my back. Then out into the garden for the short walk over to the garage with my erection leading the way.

Naturally, I couldn't see if there was anyone about as I went outside, so had no idea if anyone could see me, but guessed they couldn't as, just who would be around at that time of night? Anyway, once I got to the garage, I'd have to open the door the same way, with my back turned towards it, before I could shuffle inside.

Once inside the garage, came the trickiest part of the operation as I not only had to shuffle about not walking into things, but also use my toes to try and locate the one thing that I knew was there. That being the butt plug.

When my toes came into contact with the lubricated plug, I then had to turn around and very slowly crouch down onto it. At least for this I could use my hands as cuffed behind me, there were in just the right place to help guide the butt plug towards my bum, and then inside it.

Once the plug was fully inside me, I then stood back up, and would make my way all the way back out of the garage, into the garden and then the house, before going back upstairs, where, finally, in my room, I'd be able to retrieve the handcuff key. Then when my hands were free, I'd have an almighty wank, before going to sleep, sometimes with the butt plug still inside me.

Then, I got an idea for an even better adventure. One that had all the same components as the current one, but a lot more, besides.

Chapter Eight

My parents were gone for the day, and wouldn't be back until late in the evening, so I was assured of total privacy which meant I finally had the time I needed for the greatest adventure I'd ever tried, and which I'd been thinking about, and planning for ages.

It took nearly an hour for me to get everything set up, as I had to move all of my toys down into the garage, not to mention construct the largest butt plug I'd ever made. It was even larger than the ones Frank Hammond had had, and certainly a good deal larger than anything I'd attempted to use before, but then that was the point of this adventure.

I'd placed a two simple wooden chairs in the centre of the garage floor, one for me to sit on and the other to hold all the bits and pieces I would need. These included: a large tub of lubricant; a set of handcuffs; a blindfold; ear plugs; two long, wide leather belts; my homemade ball gag, some thin but strong cords, and, finally, the block of ice containing the key to the handcuffs frozen in the middle.

I'd only wore a pair of shorts on the way down to the garage so it didn't take me long to take them off, as I set about, pre-tying some ropes to the underside of the chair I was going to be sitting on. These were fastened, to the inside of the struts under seat, where they cross beam joined them together. Then I tied the cord that came out of the iced key to the back of the chair, where I would be able to reach it and then, finally, I gave the butt plug another layer of lubricant, just to be on the safe side.

By the time I'd finished all the preparation, my erection was like a totem pole jutting out from the front of my body, but I managed to resist touching it, even though there was already a drip of pre-cum coming out of the end, as I looked over the item I had now dubbed my torture chair, that waited for me.

I must have been breathing quite hard, but didn't seem to notice at the time, as I walked over to the chair, and spreading my legs around either side of the seat, started to sit down. Carefully, I lined the small tip of the massive butt plug up with hole, before continuing to lower myself, gently down onto it.

A groan escaped from my lips, as the plug started to get wider, and then wider.

Sweat broke out on my body, as attempted to force the plug deeper and deeper into my most intimate area, stretching me open more than I ever had been before, although never quite far enough.

After around ten or so minutes of trying, and with my thighs burning from the tension of doing so, I realise there was only one way I was going to do this and that was to totally impale myself on the mighty butt plug all at once.

Lifting myself up a little bit, until the thinner part of the plug was just resting in the entrance to my hole, I took a deep breath and the, plunged down with my full weight at once.

A scream came to my lips, but the breath needed to vocalize it wasn't there, so no sound escaped other for some wheezing, as the plug was rammed all the way into my bum, in one go.

It took a few minutes for me to get used to having something that size inside me, and it was far from comfortable to begin with, although as I calmed down, I got a little more used to it. Not that the feeling of being well and truly stuffed, would go away, but at least it didn't hurt anymore. Just sort of ached, as I set about finishing the preparations I had laid out.

The first thing was to get my ankles secured, and for this I needed to pull my feet up from the floor and then to hook them first over the side bars under the chair, and then to get them to go behind the central bar. This had the effect of not only spreading my legs as wide around the chair as they would go, but also meant that only the very tips of my toes were now on the floor, and then, only just.

With my lower body secured it was time to do the same with my upper body and for this I used a couple of thick leather belts. One of these went on like a regular car seat belt would have, around my waist, only I made sure to thread it through the rungs of the chair back, before I buckled it as tight as I could. A second belt, then following, up around my chest to ensure that I wouldn't be able to move away from the chair back, at all.

Now I was all but ready, but first I had to make myself feel more like a real prisoner so I used the ball gag to silence any protests I may have made, followed by the earplugs to lessen my hearing, and then, finally, the blindfold so I couldn't see anything. I would have liked to have turned off the garage light as well, so I was sitting there in blackness, but obviously I couldn't do that as I wouldn't have been able to see while I tied myself up.

The handcuffs were the last thing I needed to use, and, of course, I couldn't see them, so I had to feel across to the other chair to pick them up. Then, locking them around my left wrist I put my arms around the sides of the back of the chair, and after threading the other cuff through the central bar of the chair-back – and checking I could reach the iced key – I snapped the cuffs around my right wrist.

It was done. There was now no way I could release myself from the bondage I'd placed myself in, without first unlocking the handcuffs and I couldn't do that without the key that was now trapped in the ice, for a good hour or so. Of course I could hold the ice in my hands, and speed up the melting that way, but wasn't even sure that would make all that much difference.

I just sat there, bound and unable to move, hear or see, anything around me, with the large plug up my bum, pressed tight against that secret place inside me, until I could feel the sweat dripping down my sides to mix with the scent of my own arousal, but, as had been my idea all along, there was nothing I could do but sit there and think about just how furiously I would be able to masturbate, just as soon as the ice had finished melting.

By the time an hour had passed – although I didn't actually know how long that was myself, but could tell from the way the ice was melting – I was pretty much a wreck. I was covered with sweat and was generating so much heat, that the ice was melting a lot faster than I would have expected, but that wasn't a bad thing, as I wasn't sure I could take anymore of this.

The ice was nearly gone from the key and I was just starting to think that it was about time that I could use it when it was snatched away from me.

Some was in the garage with me, and they had the only means of escape there was.

I couldn't see, and I could barely hear but I could feel. I could feel the two hands that were moving around me, inspecting the things I had done to myself, and, if I wasn't very much mistaken, making sure that I wouldn't get loose at all.

The fingers came to my right ear, and after some poking and prodding around, managed to pull the plug a little way out. Just enough so I could hear what they had to say. Whoever they were.

"I've caught you big time." The voice, I didn't recognise said. "I've seen you do loads of stuff before but this is just so intense that I had to be part of it."

I don't think I'd ever been so scared before. I didn't know the voice, but by the sound of it, it didn't belong to an adult, but there were no kids living in my street, and he'd said he'd been watching me. How? Gagged as I was, I couldn't ask, but then I doubt he would have answered anyway. Not that it mattered as I was soon to find out the sort of thing he had in mind.

Hands took hold of my head, moving around the back to play with the buckle holding the ball gag in my mouth, but they had trouble but eventually the mysterious stranger managed to work the strap free and then to pull the ball from between my teeth. Not that I had the chance to say anything as a moment later I felt, and smelt, a hard erection was being pressed against my lips.

I had never sucked another boy's prick before, but I had no choice about it now, opening my mouth and taking the organ inside.

Despite my lack of experience with the actions I was now carrying out, I could, nonetheless, have my first idea of something about the stranger who now had me at his will. The prick, for itself, wasn't as large as I had first expected. It was fully hard, of course, and yet it didn't quite fill my mouth, as prick the size of my own would have done, so I guessed the kid was certainly no older than I was. Then I re-figured that, to think he was actually younger as, once he'd rammed himself all the way into my mouth, I realised that there were no pubes pressing up against my nose. Nothing but soft, silk-like skin brushed across my nose.

Then there was the matter of the kid's hair trigger. Admittedly, if I'd watched someone do the things that I did, it wouldn't take me much to come either, but there was little more I had to do that suck on his prick for a minute or two, whilst brushing my tongue around his crown before he was squirting a what felt like the tiniest bit of liquid into my mouth.

The spent organ was removed from my mouth, but I only got a few seconds to catch my breath before the ball gag was pressed back in it again, and buckled around behind my head.

I was finally allowed to relax then, or at least as much as I could, given that I was still stuck on the chair, with a large butt plug up stretching my bum open, and a raging erection that I could nothing to, or with, or even see.

Time passed slowly, and although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes – ten at the most – it seemed, to be like an age before I felt the touch of the mysterious stranger once more. And this time he was being a lot more intimate than before.

A hand clutched my nuts, and, at once, I froze on the spot. Well, I couldn't move anyway, but if there was one way to get a boy, even a totally charged up one, to keep still then that's it. Even if another hand starts to then play with your erection.

The touch on my prick was so soft, and subtle, that it was just like he was teasing me, which, of course was just what he was doing. His fingers running oh, so gently, up and down my extreme hardness without once doing anything to give me the release I so desperately wanted, more than anything else in the entire world. Even more than getting my freedom back.

Whenever the stranger sensed I could be getting some pleasure, no matter how small, out of what he was doing, his hands would simply disappear from between my legs and move onto some other part of my body. His fingers stroking my inner thighs, or brushing across my nipples, in ways that both diminished the excitement in my erection, whilst still increasing it in the rest of my body. In a way that I can only describe as totally frustrating.

Then he did something totally unexpected.

The teasing, almost tickling hands were working their way up, over my chest, from my nipples to where they appeared to be attempting to dig themselves into my armpits no doubt to tickle some more sweat out of me. However, in order to do this effectively the other boy had to cock his leg over my lap as, otherwise there was no way he could reach. This told me two things. One was that he was probably a little shorter than I was and two, that he didn't have any trousers on.

The touch of bare thigh to my already bare thigh was a shock that took a few seconds to register in my brain as, at first I just didn't think about it. It only being when he jiggled his thighs around to get a better position, that I noticed it was skin touching skin, rather than cloth. Of course he could have been wearing shorts, but if he was, then they were really short shorts, as, from the feel of it, it was his upper thighs that were touch me. But what did that mean?

Eventually, the boy gave up trying to tickle me under the arms – I've never been that ticklish anyway – but he made no effort to climb off me, although he didn't keep still either. In fact, he did anything but keep still, as he fidgeted around for sometime, apparently leaning both this way and that, from side to side, and back and forth, but mostly going over to the side where the spare chair was waiting. It turning out that he had a very good reason for doing this as I soon discovered.

A hand gripped my still rampant erection. Not softly, but in what felt like a death grip, right around the base, only it can't have been a hand, as it just didn't feel right. It only being when a second apparent set of fingered looped themselves around my nuts that I realised that the boy was adding some more bondage to my predicament, in a way, I'd never thought of before. He was tying up my prick and nuts.

The cord I'd had left over was smooth, which is why I used it to tie myself up as it didn't leave any marks on my skin, which was just as well given that it was now being tied off as tightly as it could be, around the point where my prick and nuts, join the rest of my body, and not just once either. The cord was going around that part of me two, three, four times, with each loop being knotted off separately, and then a couple more loops were added around my nut sac, in such a way that my nuts were pushed away from the rest of me. Then finally, another loop of the soft cord was tied around my prick again, above my balls.

It was the weirdest sensation having my privates tied up like that, just not as unpleasant as I would have thought it would be, had I thought about it, that is. My prick throbbed even more, and ached at the same time, as did my nuts, but, somehow the way the cords were on my cut down on the need for sexual released that I'd been experiencing the rest of the time I'd been tied up. Although that was about to change in a most dramatic way imaginable.

From my experience straddling the chair earlier in the day, I know what a strain that could put on your thighs, so I guess it shouldn't have come as quite so much of a surprise when the boy who'd found me, decided to sit down. It was just the way he did it. Directly onto my erection.

There was no accident about it either. He made no attempt to get out of the way, or to move my prick to one side. And there was something else too. Well two things. The first was, that it proved I was right. He was naked. And secondly, he'd smeared his bum in lubricant – so much lubricant that my prick had only one place to go, and it slid right on in there. Towards his bum hole.

He gave a little start when the crown of my prick first touched his hole, but that was it. The rest of the time, he made no sign of that he was aware of what he was doing, as far as I could tell. Just continued lowering himself onto me.

Hands that had been teasing me, came first to rest and then to grip onto my shoulders as the boy slowly pushed himself down onto my prick. His, hot, gripping arsehole, slowly swallowing the crown of my prick and then, moving ever so steadily down the rest of my shaft, until, finally, his full weight came to rest on my lap with my prick all the way up inside him.

I could barely accept what was happening. This boy had found me in the most compromising position imaginable. He'd made me suck his prick but then, he'd mounted me, with all the ease of a prostitute. Sure my prick wasn't enormous or anything, but he'd just slipped it up his arse as if it was nothing which was something I still couldn't do after months of practising with a variety of dildos and but plugs. And he wasn't finished yet.

Slowly at first, but then gradually getting faster and faster the boy started to move. His body raising up, allowing my prick to slide part of the way out of his gripping hole, before, he sank back down onto me once more. But that wasn't all he was doing as he also twisted and turned his body around, so as to get the maximum tension and grip out of the spot where our two bodies were joined in the most intimate way imaginable.

Before too long the motions the boy was doing on both my lap and my prick got more and more rowdy, until I could all but feel the floor moving around beneath the tips of my toes as he bounced and jerked around on me. Not that I was in any position to complain by then, of course as it was all getting way to much for me, as it was for him too.

Splashes of liquid splattered across my chest but I barely noticed the cum the boy was now spraying me with, as at the same time, his orgasm was causing his anus to clench and manipulate my bound prick in a way that goes way beyond anything that can be described in mere words. Needless to say, the result was to make my body react in just the same way that his just had, and I shot my load, right the way up his arse, just as all his motions stopped and he finally came to rest on me.

We remained still, and yet still joined, like that, for some time, while we caught our joined breath. During this time nothing much happened although, probably due to his own shortness of breath, the boy loosened the ball gag enough for me to be able to spit it out. The blindfold then followed a few minutes later, and I got my first look at the first boy I'd ever fucked.

"Hi!" he said, strangely shyly, given he was still sitting with my prick up his arse. "I'm Logan White. I'm staying with my gran over there."

He gestured towards the houses backing on to mine, and suddenly it all made sense. We didn't have much to do with Mrs White as she tended to stick to herself, but her house did over look ours a little so, if Logan had been staying there he could have seen 3; jeez.. I didn't want to think about what he may have seen, but as it was he told me anyway.

"I watched you playing walking around naked and handcuffed from my room in the attic so tonight I snuck out so I could join in."

He smile was partly hidden by the mess of near black shaggy hair, that covered his head and fell down most of the way to his shoulders, plus a little beyond which made it hard for me to work out just how old he was.

"I'm eleven." He said, as if reading my mind. "But I can spunk already."

"I noticed!" I said, speaking for the first time, my voice a little hoarse.

Logan giggled at my joke, which confirmed his age, and made me sigh, as the motion caused him to move around on my lap, which had it's own response.

"Hey, you're getting hard again."

I wasn't aware I had gotten soft, but other than that his words were correct. The motion of his body jiggling on me, was stiffening me up and causing Logan to give me a funny, wide eyed look.

"Can we do it again, before I let you go?"

We could, and what's more we did. Twice. The cords around my prick apparently keeping me hard for way longer than normal, and that was only one of the tricks that Logan was going to teach me during our time together. But that, as they say, is another story.

The End