I grew up with my grand-parents, on a farm in Britain. They were very strict, humorless people, kept to themselves, and were utterly untroubled by conventional morality. Almost the first thing they asked, when I arrived there, an orphan, was "does your cock sometimes get hard?" When I confessed somewhat confused that it did indeed. they gave me a long song-and-dance about the need to "spill seed, at an early age, for a healthy adulthood" Then they told me to undress, and tied my wrists behind my back, comfortably, but inescapably. I was apprehensive by then, but it was too late, and I submitted in red-faced humiliation, to their searching, caressing fingers. Soon I was massively erect, and panting with the intensity of it. "This is for your own good, boy, and you will thank us for it, later in life!" they assured me. It certainly felt good at the time, and it was easy to subjugate any doubts I had, and just accept this new delight in my life! This began simply, and blossomed to about ten times a day, with one or other of them in control of me. I quickly became hopelessly addicted to this, and begged them not to stop! So they didn't! After a while Grandpa introduced me to sucking his cock, for hours on end, and I found I was okay with this too! I found I really loved the tying-up part, and was always begging them to come up with new and exciting ways. until one day, they unearthed an ancient bag, dusty, moldy, with a strong smell of rubber. "Put me in that!" I insisted. They talked about washing it out first, but I was impatient, so they unrolled it and pulled it over my head, so it fell all the way to the floor. At my urging, they tied me into it, at neck, waist, and under the feet. I loved the intense feeling of confinement and helplessness, even loved the smell! With a little trial and error, and Granma's sewing skills, the bag gained a small opening with a fine nylon zipper, across my mouth, and two tiny airholes right above it. Plus another zippered opening half-way down, for my ever-expanding 'goodies' to be held outside, vulnerable to anything! "You sure about this, boy?" my Grandpa growled. I nodded vigorously, going "Mmmmmmmmfffff!" which was all I could manage with the zipper sealed tight shut. When it was open, there was just room for his huge cock to slip into my mouth. I heard him say this was an improvement, and helped rid him of any last vestige of guilt, since I was now just an anonymous parcel, not like a real person, even! She agreed happily. "Anyway, he seems to really like it!" he announced, as she agreed whole-heartedly. That was the start of my utter and lifetime addiction to rubber bondage, and total enclosure in particular. But that's an entirely different but strangely similar story!