rubberbondageboy:

strappedown:

I can keep you…

I can keep you strapped down to this table, helpless, unable to move. Your legs fixed firmly in position, with your bare feet exposed…or, if I choose, clamped tightly in secured boots. Perhaps I’ll put rubber toe-socks on you, and restrain each toe so that you can’t even wiggle them. I decide if your arms are up, down, or stretched to the side. I have all sorts of mitts, each forces your hand into the position that I deem most appropriate. I can send volts of electricity through any muscle on your body, forcing you to tense it, and repeat until you are too exhausted to move.

I can keep your cock hard. I have lots of toys. I can send pleasurable vibrations or ruthless shocks whenever I feel like. I have things that suck, and pump, and squeeze. I can keep you on edge for days, or milk you so often that getting off will be torture.

I can keep you on the edge of consciousness. I have canisters of nitrous and halothane and oxygen and I know how to use them. I have pumps to control the rate of your breathing or to breath for you. You will drift in an out of sleep until you are utterly disoriented, unaware of where you are or what is happening to you. You’ll be unable to remember properly, has it been a few days or a few hours? You won’t be sure.

When the time comes for me to be elsewhere, I can still keep you. I have cages, a padded room, and lengths of chain and manacles to keep you from wandering away. I’ll keep your cock in an intense chastity belt, and a remote controlled shock collar locked around your neck. I’ll make sure you are comfortable but controlled, at all times.

Exactly the type of control I hope to experience someday, not just over my physical state, but my mental state as well. Hard to find someone who relaly enjoys controlling someone like that and actually knows how to do it as well.

If I do find him, I don’t care if he never intends to release me, plans to condition me with intense milking to dread orgasm, only to keep me in an edged haze, not knowing when it will happen again just because it amuses him, or if he means to only allow me to be fully conscious when he requires amusement. If I knew that’s what it meant, I’d still put the hood on myself and let him lead me away. If I’m truly lucky though, that man will find me at a bar or something, spike my drink, and the rest will be happily ever after.