Trapped in the asylum (request) m/f
Posted: Wed Jan 18, 2023 11:06 am
... and then SBB woke up. Within seconds he wished he hadn't, as his reality had suddenly become some kind of nightmare.
It was dark; he couldn't see anything. Then he realized, a hood; he had a hood pulled over his head. He was otherwise relatively comfortable, lying on his back, arms folded casually across his chest, legs stretched straight out.
"Hmmpf bbllm grrrhhmm!" he shouted. Except what he meant to shout was something like, "Help me! Where am I? Why am I here?" There was something in his mouth, under the hood, preventing him from speaking.
He needed to reach up, pull off the hood, remove the gag. Except he couldn't move. He tried harder and, as he shook off the freshly-awake muzziness, began to struggle, to wriggle, to thrash.
It didn't take him long to understand that he was secured in a multi-point restraint device with additional straps keeping him in an enforced reclined position. Or in simpler terms, he was in a full body straitjacket, running from his head, down his neck, his torso, his legs, and covering his feet, strapped down onto a mattress.
Realization led to panic, which led to vicious thrashing and further attempts at shouting; "Rrrrffmm ffbbbff hhhhrrrmmmff!" But the ball was lodged in tightly, the straps held him firmly down, his canvas prison snug and tight, the fabric too heavy, too tough, to tear.
"Gggrrggfhh bbbllmmm!"
He immediately quieted when he heard a door open, the sound of someone stepping out of clogs, the pad of feet walking across a soft surface. "Well now," she said, "how's our favorite escapee feeling this morning? That was quite a night you had from what we've heard."
Who was this, what was she talking about? The last thing he recalled was a pub crawl with his friends. Someone had told him not to have that fifth pint, then there was a commotion at the far end of the bar, they'd all gotten up to see what was going on...
"I'll bet you'd like some nice thick porridge this morning," she continued, 'but first I think you'll want a bit of relief." As she said that, she opened at flap at his crotch and pulled out his surprisingly engorged cock. "Oh my, I don't recall all of this before." she continued, surprised. "Never mind, a quick pee and you'll feel much better!"
He felt the edges of the receptacle and, after a few moments of forcing himself to relax, became aware of the massive pressure on his bladder, and quickly relieved himself of what seemed an entire evening's worth of beer.
"Oh my, you were drinking a lot during your little excursion," she said, setting aside what must have been a very full receptacle. "Now lets get this porridge down while it's still warm."
He felt her unlacing the back of the hood and, after a few moments, was relieved to feel the cool air on his face, even as the sudden burst of light caused him to wince and close his eyes.
"Oh my, I totally forgot about the light," she said, turning away and clicking the switch off, bringing his painfully bright world down to a more comfortable level. He saw a kind-looking, matronly woman, thickening with encroaching middle-age, but with remaining hints of her girlish body.
"Now; the porridge!" she finished with a laugh.
And suddenly there was a tube in his mouth, placed through what must have been a hole in his gag. Something blissfully warm and delicious flooded his senses, suddenly making him realize how hungry he was. He eagerly swallowed until just before he felt he couldn't anymore; as if reading his mind, it stopped.
"Well now," she said, standing, "I don't suppose we'll need this anymore," tucking the hood into her tunic pocket. "And, well, you'll be more comfortable with this getting some air as well," she said as she gently patted his rapidly re-engorging member. "It wouldn't do to get your nice clean sleepsack all soiled, now would it?"
"I suppose they'll be here in a bit for exercise," she said, standing, "or they may want you to relax today, given all of the past few day's excitement." With that, she padded to the doorway on what he could now see were bare feet, slid into her clogs, before shutting and locking the door.
That was it? They'd left him here, massively bound and gagged, no explanation, no reason as to why he was so severly secured.
"Hrrmmff bbbggll fpptph!" he yelled, thrashing for all he was worth, desperate to be free, to awaken from this living nightmare. Struggling, thrashing, tugging, pulling...
... before realizing that there was some form of sedative in the porridge, allowing him to fall blissfully back to sleep, with the hope that when he awoke he'd be back in the real world, the sane world, the comprehensible world.
To be continued...
It was dark; he couldn't see anything. Then he realized, a hood; he had a hood pulled over his head. He was otherwise relatively comfortable, lying on his back, arms folded casually across his chest, legs stretched straight out.
"Hmmpf bbllm grrrhhmm!" he shouted. Except what he meant to shout was something like, "Help me! Where am I? Why am I here?" There was something in his mouth, under the hood, preventing him from speaking.
He needed to reach up, pull off the hood, remove the gag. Except he couldn't move. He tried harder and, as he shook off the freshly-awake muzziness, began to struggle, to wriggle, to thrash.
It didn't take him long to understand that he was secured in a multi-point restraint device with additional straps keeping him in an enforced reclined position. Or in simpler terms, he was in a full body straitjacket, running from his head, down his neck, his torso, his legs, and covering his feet, strapped down onto a mattress.
Realization led to panic, which led to vicious thrashing and further attempts at shouting; "Rrrrffmm ffbbbff hhhhrrrmmmff!" But the ball was lodged in tightly, the straps held him firmly down, his canvas prison snug and tight, the fabric too heavy, too tough, to tear.
"Gggrrggfhh bbbllmmm!"
He immediately quieted when he heard a door open, the sound of someone stepping out of clogs, the pad of feet walking across a soft surface. "Well now," she said, "how's our favorite escapee feeling this morning? That was quite a night you had from what we've heard."
Who was this, what was she talking about? The last thing he recalled was a pub crawl with his friends. Someone had told him not to have that fifth pint, then there was a commotion at the far end of the bar, they'd all gotten up to see what was going on...
"I'll bet you'd like some nice thick porridge this morning," she continued, 'but first I think you'll want a bit of relief." As she said that, she opened at flap at his crotch and pulled out his surprisingly engorged cock. "Oh my, I don't recall all of this before." she continued, surprised. "Never mind, a quick pee and you'll feel much better!"
He felt the edges of the receptacle and, after a few moments of forcing himself to relax, became aware of the massive pressure on his bladder, and quickly relieved himself of what seemed an entire evening's worth of beer.
"Oh my, you were drinking a lot during your little excursion," she said, setting aside what must have been a very full receptacle. "Now lets get this porridge down while it's still warm."
He felt her unlacing the back of the hood and, after a few moments, was relieved to feel the cool air on his face, even as the sudden burst of light caused him to wince and close his eyes.
"Oh my, I totally forgot about the light," she said, turning away and clicking the switch off, bringing his painfully bright world down to a more comfortable level. He saw a kind-looking, matronly woman, thickening with encroaching middle-age, but with remaining hints of her girlish body.
"Now; the porridge!" she finished with a laugh.
And suddenly there was a tube in his mouth, placed through what must have been a hole in his gag. Something blissfully warm and delicious flooded his senses, suddenly making him realize how hungry he was. He eagerly swallowed until just before he felt he couldn't anymore; as if reading his mind, it stopped.
"Well now," she said, standing, "I don't suppose we'll need this anymore," tucking the hood into her tunic pocket. "And, well, you'll be more comfortable with this getting some air as well," she said as she gently patted his rapidly re-engorging member. "It wouldn't do to get your nice clean sleepsack all soiled, now would it?"
"I suppose they'll be here in a bit for exercise," she said, standing, "or they may want you to relax today, given all of the past few day's excitement." With that, she padded to the doorway on what he could now see were bare feet, slid into her clogs, before shutting and locking the door.
That was it? They'd left him here, massively bound and gagged, no explanation, no reason as to why he was so severly secured.
"Hrrmmff bbbggll fpptph!" he yelled, thrashing for all he was worth, desperate to be free, to awaken from this living nightmare. Struggling, thrashing, tugging, pulling...
... before realizing that there was some form of sedative in the porridge, allowing him to fall blissfully back to sleep, with the hope that when he awoke he'd be back in the real world, the sane world, the comprehensible world.
To be continued...