Whysoserious66 : 01 - Tied up for the first time in a while (M/M)

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01 - Tied up for the first time in a while
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By Whysoserious66

Sun Jul 20, 2008 1:19 pm

It was a warm July evening and my parents were out of town, so I decided the time was ripe to experiment with a tie up game.

I’ve had a steady interest in light bondage for as long as I can remember. It had been a while since I had been tied up at all, years actually, after my freshman year in college by an ex girl friend.

Ideally, I wanted to be tied up by a girl (and hopefully have it lead down another path) but most of my female friends had a dim view of the concept. After mulling it over, I decided to have my best friend Daniel tie me up. He was pleasantly receptive to the idea. He agreed to tie me up in my basement.

“Want a beer, man?” I asked, as we opened the door to my house. I’m not going to lie. I was pretty nervous about it. Though Daniel was well aware of my interest in this stuff this was the first time I’d share an experience with him. Still, I tried to let some of the warm feelings of submission, that one often experiences before anticipating bondage, come over me.

“Sure,” Daniel said. I tossed him a cold yingling and cracked open one for myself. Daniel is a 21-year-old college student. A loose tie-die t-shirt hung from his frame over some ragged cargo shorts. He wore a flat rimmed blue Detroit baseball hat at a jaunty angle. The guy was shorter than me and scrawny as a scarecrow, and I laughed a little inside that this guy would be “taking me prisoner” for the next hour. (we've fought a little bit before and I always take him down)

I’m a 21-year-old college student. I was wearing jeans, and black and white polo shirt, and a backwards baseball cap. I work out a lot so I have a pretty good body (I won’t be too modest, I sport the six pack). I’m about 5 8 at 145 pounds.

Both of us were in fraternities at school, and had experienced our fair share of rituals with controversial implications. I guess it allowed us to not really care about any so-called strangeness some parties would attach to what were about to do.

“Yo, let’s do this, I said, after we had finished a couple beers. We went down into my basement.

“This is what we’re going to use,” I told him, nodding my head toward the eclectic jumble of items that would be my makeshift restraints: Two long and thick pieces of rope, a Judo belt, and a couple old leather belts.

Daniel laughed, taking a sip from his beer, “Haha, you could tie up like six people with that!”

We went into a small room in my basement, where I grabbed the assorted belts and tossed them aside a chair. “Aight man, basically, I’m gonna sit down here, You tie my hands behind my back, tie my waist and chest to the thing, and bind my ankles to the legs of the chair.”

“Aight…by the way, I’m not sure how great I am with knots.”

I shrugged. “It’s all good, just make sure the circulation is there and that I’m not going anywhere.” I chuckled. “You were in the boy scouts, you know what to do.”

He nodded, and a wave of calm swept over me. I felt an immense feeling of trust toward Daniel, combined with lightheadedness as soon as I sat down on the chair and placed my hands behind my back.

He bound my wrists together, tugging at the knots to make sure they were firm. I struggled with them a bit to test them and sure enough, my hands weren’t going anywhere.

“Sweet,” I said.

He strung some rope around my waist, and then around my chest. He really did know what he was doing. I breathed sharply as the rope around my chest was tightened, not because it was too tight, but because I was reacting to the powerful feeling of being immobilized by an controlling agent.
This submissiveness blossomed inside me as he bound my ankles to the legs of the chair, fully restricting my movement. He barely left any slack; my leg was completely secured. I was secured. Restricted. Restrained. Locked in place, but paradoxically liberated from the responsibility having to move in space

I began to sweat a little bit, I felt like a newly sentenced prisoner, a novice to the bonds of punishment, surrendering for the first time to circumstances beyond his control.

“That good, man?”

I couldn’t describe to him how good it was, and with the alcohol buzzing in my brain everything was enhanced.

“Yeah dude,” I said. “Kill the lights and go upstairs. Release me in like an hour or two hours, don’t tell me when. I’ll holler at you if I need to.”

He picked up his beer and strode out of the room. The light vanished and as he went upstairs, my ears followed his footsteps to the last whispering echo.

The warmth inside vanished, and adrenaline started flowing through my veins as I realized I had given up control. My mind was racing and my heart started pounding. I started breathing deeply as I started pushing against the bonds. I wasn’t going anywhere.

The loss of control, the relinquishing of power, even in this small ritualized setting, was one of the most exhilarating feelings ever. (It had been such a long time….) A small part inside was screaming for release, screaming for the return of control. My muscles rippled beneath my clothes as I struggled for a little bit. Finally, I inhaled deeply, and forced myself to sit up straight and keep my chin up. This sentence was mine to serve, I had asked for it.

Then I started thinking about girls….

I’m not going to go into details, but fantasies as clear and crisp as water poured into the corridors of my mind. My mouth became dry, my breathing heavy, and well….between my legs my manhood strained, longing for attention from the fairer sex and liberation from my levis.

Following that stream of thought, my ears caught sounds emanating from upstairs. Daniel was probably moving around, grabbing some more booze. A strong and very platonic feeling of trust came over me. It was comforting knowing someone was figuratively “up there.” I had abdicated responsibility over myself to that entity, and it was enjoyable and relieving to know that they were looking out for me.

Time passed in a blur when Daniel finally returned downstairs. By this time I was sitting forward, face down shoulders hunched, probably looking like the prisoner who had been locked up so long, to him, freedom was an elusive mystery as enigmatic as sleep or death.

David loosened the bonds. And I stood up, shaking slightly.

“How was it, man?”

I shrugged. “It was aight. Let’s go get drunk.”

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Whysoserious66's stories

• 01 - Tied up for the first time in a while (M/M)

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