"Iffy" Start

Used to be pretty homophobic, unttil my on again-off again girlfriend refused my constant requests to be confined in the expensive rubber bondage-bag, I had bought online, saying short-sightedly "what good is that to me, and MY needs...you need to talk to my elder brother, Stan! He gets off on shit like that! But be warned - he's a nasty sadistic asshole, and you might 'cum' to regret giving him such absolute power and total control over you! He WILL exploit it mercilkessly and probably WAY longer than you think you're okay with..."

The warning was clear enough, but I was at the mercy of powerful hormones, and let her set up a meeting. He was a bit of a nerd, to me, and not very threatening at face value anyway, so I agreed to let him zip me up in the heavy canvas rubber-lined bag, while still harboring doubts at his giggly attitude.

"Got you now, loser! I bet Judy warned you too...I'm obsessed with the old idea of "wanking someone to death" although common sense dictates the lesser outcome of "...to insanity"....so, let's get it ON as they say..."

Cord of some kind went several times round my neck, and was knotted. Same process at my waist, trapping my arms in a loose folded position. My tongue told me there was a fine airtight nylon zipper over my mouth, closed, which left me only two small metal-ringed air-holes at my nose. giving me just enough air to stay conscious.

The zipper at my crotch came open then, and my V,,,, enhanced package burst out into the open. "Outstanding! And totally vulnerable to my ah, research!" His giggle had a hint of insanity, I thought, but too late, obviously. Warm fingers gripped my shaft, while a thumb began passing heavily over the hyper-sensitive head, which I later learned was often called "polishing" It was diabolically effective, and soon I wasted air gasping "Oh please...oh please..." which drew another giggle. "Please what? Stop? Don't stop? You don't even know do you?" Hours passed, and my future was settled right there and then.