TALK IS CHEAP. New Pix 15 & 16 BONUS CHAPTER 16 NOW UP

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby mserich » Wed Mar 26, 2014 9:37 pm

P.S. Are you planning on continuing the story here, and no longer updating the previous location (viewtopic.php?f=52&t=21971&p=162255)?

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby mikeybound » Wed Mar 26, 2014 9:46 pm

Well he's a right proper bastard, isn't he? Are you sure this is all true? Most people wouldn't put up with this the way you do.
Anyway, I hope you at least got revenge. God knows he deserves it.

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby tony2 » Wed Mar 26, 2014 11:26 pm

Thanks folks, it is all happening at one location and yes, I created a monster :twisted: (sort of anyway) but if anyone wants proof, after all these years, I still have all these toys :bondage1: :bondage1: I'll be happy to let you try on (grin).

The new home for the feathers was more diabolical than it appears. with a fresh "haircut" the inside of the thighs near the top are a highly erogenous zone and when "entertained" something starts trying to move and so waves those damned feathers around starting the whole cycle over again, in the meantime the CB3000 is literally crushing any thoughts of expansion.... get the idea? I quickly learned to keep my legs spread as far apart as possible so no touching --- that is until I started falling asleep and of course that didn't last long before the cycle started again. It was indeed a long night! :tickle:

Yes, there will be more - I had a lot of toys and he was determined to see I got my money's worth out of as many as possible before I killed him (oops, was that a end game spoiler?) (grin)

JF - Apologies to you, these are all chapters in the same story. when the great computer gods in the sky here teach me how to create a page 2, I can tie them all into one. This is the only one for now that has chapters 4,5 and 6. As it stands a single page is limited to 6,000 words (gee, do I talk that much????)

If you haven't read 1,2 and 3 yet, give it a shot.

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nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby xtc » Thu Mar 27, 2014 6:47 am

Nice to read the update.
To get the work all in one place, all you have to do is post a "reply" to the previous page.
May I suggest you ask Jason to move the current chapters on to the end of the previous post if possible? That way you will not lose the appreciative comments.

I'll copy this to JT.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Mar 27, 2014 7:23 am

Yes, I can merge these posts to the end of the one containing the earlier chapters if you wish to Tony. Just say the word.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby tony2 » Thu Mar 27, 2014 11:29 am

Thank you Jason, I reassembled it and tried to post it but it was over the 6000 limit. Does the program automatically create a new page when needed?
Please verify all 6 chapters are there (I may have oopsed on the sequencing). Appreciate your help. More on the way of course, hope you like it.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Mar 27, 2014 1:23 pm

tony2 wrote:Thank you Jason, I reassembled it and tried to post it but it was over the 6000 limit. Does the program automatically create a new page when needed?
Please verify all 6 chapters are there (I may have oopsed on the sequencing). Appreciate your help. More on the way of course, hope you like it.

Perhaps you misunderstand what i mean. As a mod, I can literally weld any two topics together as if they were always one topic to begin with; something ordinary members are unable to do because i can combine anyone's posts not just my own. No word limits; no missing posts, no mess, no problems. Takes mere seconds.
Sounds like you'd like me to do this, but please verify this first and i will do so if you want me to.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby tony2 » Thu Mar 27, 2014 3:16 pm

Yes please Jason, I appreciate the trouble you are going through. The readers deserve to have it all in one.
Aloha,

tony2
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nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP -- CHAPTERS 4,5,6 (NEW)

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Mar 27, 2014 3:36 pm

I trust i merged the correct two topics. Hard to be certain because you seem to have other topics with a "Talk is Cheap" byline. but the chapters seem to match, so I'll assume this is correct. Anyway, i can split the topics again if I was incorrect.
I'll leave dealing with the overlapping chapters up to you.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 1-6 together at last HERE

Postby tony2 » Sun Apr 06, 2014 8:51 am

hi Y'all -- (got that in Texas), question for you: I ran across some pics of me taken during the life of this story. :tied: :evil: :tied: should I publish them for you or not?
Thanks for your opinion. :bondage:
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 1-6 together at last HERE

Postby xtc » Sun Apr 06, 2014 9:22 am

If they don't contravene any guidelines, why not?
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 1-6 together at last HERE

Postby mserich » Sun Apr 06, 2014 1:24 pm

Definitely!

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 1-6 together at last HERE

Postby tony2 » Sun Apr 06, 2014 3:47 pm

xtc wrote:If they don't contravene any guidelines, why not?



Re guidelines: Probably not --- I'm not as sexy as these young-uns here :roll: :lol:
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...W/ new Ch. 7

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 3:07 am

Chapter 7

The Railing of Doom?

It was a long night.
By morning the narrow shackles felt like they were attempting to amputate my legs at the ankles. Because my legs were spread so far apart all night with no ability to move them, it felt like every muscle from the waist down wanted to walk off in total revolt of what it appeared my body was doing to them. My shoulders were aching because I couldn't even move my arms away from my waist. I was sure that in the morning, I would be branded on each arm with the indelible indentations of two cuffs each from the night before: how would I ever explained that?

I'm sure I slept, if no longer than the closing of my eyes during a blink. By the time the room lightened up with the rising of the sun, I was definitely ready for another good 10 hours sleep. Was it a dream? Did I imagine it? Did I really get suckered into six weeks of this?

All I had to do was to look at the illumination off of my body as the sun played through the room where the sheen from the accumulation of stress sweat and the total lack of hair proved one of two things: either it was no dream and I was totally had or I had slipped back in time and was actually only 12 years old now. Despite my fuzzy analysis due to lack of sleep, I was fairly certain that were I 12 years old, I would not have let someone talk me into this crazy mess in the first place. (Here I thought we were supposed to get smarter as we got older, at this point I was really beginning to wonder.)

Somewhere around 6:30 AM he pops into the room and with a big smile on his face says, “Servus, did you sleep well?”

“Like this? You have got to be kidding!” No sooner were the words out of my mouth then I realized my mistake. He used the word Servus which means slave in Latin, and thereby expected me to respond accordingly. I should have said Sir or master somewhere in my response. He then started giggling as he began unlocking my irons. He looked up at me and said, “congratulations, you're now up to two additional days.”

There was nothing more I could do about that now, and besides, all the irons were finally off of me. One thing I did learn which I will pass on to you in secret is: you don't sleep too well on your back with a big master padlock is chained just under your back bone.

I got up slowly and started to try to get my moving parts moving in the right directions. I looked at my wrists and forearms: sure enough, each one had two definite read handcuff grooves pressed into them, as did my ankles but I wasn't as concerned about those since they would be covered by socks. Next up a hot shower.

There I found a new revelation. The soap on my washcloth went on much faster and easier than it had up to this point. It also felt very strange. I suspect the fact there was no longer any hair to slow it down may have had something to do with that. After about 20 min. under the hot water rubbing my forearms I finally got out and dried off. The marks had faded somewhat but were still evident enough I didn't want to take the chance and draw anyone's attention to them particularly since up till yesterday my arms were relatively hairy and its absence could lead to another embarrassing question or two.

The work I did generally required me to be in a suit and tie, so slipping into a long sleeved shirt covered up most of those problems. Unfortunately most of my suits were a wool blend (if thin enough it's not as hot as you might think). As I was later to find out, first today and definitely much more so through this first week, the wool blend pants have a tendency to grab the hair stubble as it tries to move past them. With every movement I made while at work for that week I was constantly reminded of what was awaiting me when I returned home. It itched. It tickled. It grabbed. It was definitely a distracting nuisance particularly for the first few days.

That night over dinner when he asked me how the day went, I told him how I suffered knowing the body shave was with the suit I had to wear. He thought about that for a few minutes and said, “great. For the remainder of this week, you go commando (meaning no shorts).” Every time I stood up, sat down, crossed my legs, uncrossed my legs or even walked to the water cooler, I was aggressively reminded that the hair on my butt was beginning to grow out as well.

I returned home that evening and was thrilled to get out of that suit and back into my shorts. Over dinner, he asked me again how I slept the previous night. Since he hadn't started using the word Servus, I felt we were still under a truce, so I told him. He thought about that for a while and said, “you know, you're right.

The position looks great unless you're in it like you were. "We probably won't use that one again unless you especially deserve it even though it did look pretty great on you and might've looked even better with the isolation helm hooked to the headboard, but will save that for another day maybe." “You need to be able to stretch out and move around a little bit when you're sleeping so your muscles don't tighten up. I've got just the thing for you that I'm sure you'll find much more relaxing.” (What kind of trouble is coming my way now?)

After dinner and a couple hours of TV intermingled with Smalltalk and my occasional pleading to see if I could con him into letting me out of this deal (all of which seem to fall on totally deaf ears), it was time for bed.

His bedroom is on the second floor. The stairwell is protected by a wrought iron railing that runs from near his bedroom door to the beginning of the steps roughly 10 feet away. The floor is carpeted and fairly thick.

“When you finish with the bathroom, leave your shorts on and join me upstairs.” (At least he didn't say join him in the basement with the washing machine, water cooler and bare cement floor, although from past experience I have to believe he is up to no good). I slowly finish my evening bathroom obligations and walk the green mile again this time up the stairs to his bedroom door.

He motions me in to where he is sitting and tells me to hold my wrists out in front of me. The next thing I know they are wearing two pair of police style handcuffs. He bends down and my ankles are likewise configured with two pair of police leg irons. He then stands up and puts a muzzle or panel gag as is sometimes called over my mouth and the straps over my head. Sometimes those are applied after inserting something in the mouth like a dirty sock or perhaps a ball gag, but there is always a danger of choking. If however the panel is pulled tight enough even without anything in the mouth, making an articulate sound is almost impossible. This is what he did and, adding insult to injury, padlock shut the three straps holding it in place.

“Don't worry you won't have to talk for the rest of this!” “Come with me.” With that he led me to the Hall outside of his door and said, “lay down lengthwise and stretch out comfortably.” While on my back next to the rail he was able to get my left arm and left leg through the bottom opening of the railing and use the respective cuffs to affix them to the step side of the hallway my right arm and leg were affixed on the near side but at different anchor points so that no two limbs could touch. He then took a small rope and, affixing it to the top strap of the panel gag cinched it snugly to the anchor point of the railing with the result I could move my head from side to side but I couldn't lift it in any manner.

“That should be more comfortable for you tonight. Have a good night and dream about what a great return on your investment you're getting.” (He really didn't have to remind me of my bout of temporary insanity which got me into this mess in the first place. I must admit, I was getting off on his creativity and his improvisations. I was waiting for the time when he would slip up and get careless and I'd be able to get myself out of it. That was really the game and so it went on.)

That night, I slept, and slept, and slept. When he finally arose about 6:30 AM he walked right past me into his bathroom and began tending his morning preparations. (Hey, I've got to take a leak too, why didn't you release me first?). As I suspected he took longer than he would normally would, he must've appreciated where the focus of my attention was, at least until I could relieve it by getting to the bathroom.

Because of the CB 3000, I was also beginning to think that morning wood was quickly liable to turn into morning splinters. However before that could occur, the bathroom door pops ajar and he comes out with the key and releases me to start another day.

As I join him for breakfast, asked me how I slept and I told him quite well considering the previous night.

He however said that he didn't because apparently every time I would move around the chains connecting one limb or the other would drag against the iron railing which was anchored against the wall of his bedroom and I suspect turned the wall into a sounding board for any noise coming out of that railing. So for a change, he got a little bit of his own medicine that kept him awake off and on through the night as well. As much as I had to giggle about that I then became slightly concerned and curious as to what he might come up with for tonight.

After breakfast it was off to work, this time commando style which I was not used to in any case and which I suspect caused him a certain amount of amusement just thinking about it.
Finally it was time to come home and get out of the wool suits.

Dinner was quite good as usual and so was our evening conversations. Finally once again, it was time for bed although at this stage it might be taking excessive liberties to even call it that at least as far as I was concerned. When you get through in the bathroom, upstairs again. I did and as I entered his room the first thing he puts on me is the panel gag again pulled very tight and padlocked. That's not been enough apparently, is this a tight leather hood over my head and zips closed the mouth opening leaving only the eyes free.

“ I made something just for you and I certainly hope it fits. Don't you? Oh, that's right, you can't talk now can you?” As he silently snickers to himself.

He then proceeds to buckle a web belt around my waist which he pulls tight. Riveted to it on either side are two commercial dog collars which he raps twice around each wrist and then buckles thus pinning my wrists to my sides.

He then takes me out into the hall and tells me to sit down with my back to the railing, which I do while I'm wondering how long is this going to go on before I can go to my bed. He then takes a set of ankle shackles and locks one on my right arm just above my elbow and then wraps the chain through the iron grate to my left arm where it is locked again.

Frankly, I thought that this sucks. I don't even had any wiggle room. Chalk another usually clever point up to his side.

Now he steps back and stares at his creation like an artist admiring his finished painting. “There's still something missing” he mumbles. “Ah Ha I know!” He then attaches the top ring on the hood to the top of the railing thus giving me a range of about 4 inches that I can move my head (like a lot of good that does!).

tmpb7cf12ac6f9ebff506d1e6110050eb9c_TSM.jpg
uprail3.jpg




He looks at me and says, “that looks so good we need to take a picture of it.” I begin to mumbled my objections as strongly as possible but I find I can't even shake my head so, the picture gets taken.

He goes back into his bedroom after turning the lights out leaving me thinking if he really is going to leave me here like this all night? I should've known the answer was yes; but inside I still had to ask the question. If there was any doubt at all it was answered about 10 min. later when the light came back on in his room and he comes out into the hallway same that he forgot something. A very short time later he's headed back to his room leaving me in his trail wearing a pair of ankle cuffs as well. He turns around, smiles at me and says, “that looks so much better and you're not going to be clinking against the railing tonight or, for in fact the next four nights as well so you might as well get used to it."

"Good night.”


======================================================================
Leave a note and let me know if you want me to continue. :bound:
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby xtc » Sat Apr 12, 2014 4:04 am

I could have done with a photo of the first situation! Nice to know you're still posting.
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby mikeybound » Sat Apr 12, 2014 5:28 am

On one hand, I'm thinking "Nice to finally see some of those pics."
On the other, I'm thinking "Holy shit, this stuff is real!"
I mean sure, you could still be exaggerating or shaping your story around some pics you found online, but I'm an optimist.
Will we get to see more now that you've opened the floodgates?

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 9:33 am

mikeybound wrote:On one hand, I'm thinking "Nice to finally see some of those pics."
On the other, I'm thinking "Holy shit, this stuff is real!"
I mean sure, you could still be exaggerating or shaping your story around some pics you found online, but I'm an optimist.
Will we get to see more now that you've opened the floodgates?



Mikey, are you sure your middle name isn't Thomas? LOL, I don't know about floodgates, but there are a few that apply to this story yet to come (remember, this was before most cameras were digital and that way expensive phone was smaller than a pack of cigarettes and did nothing more than phone, and gas was (no, I'm not going to say because then I'll sound older than I feel). All I can say now is that by the time his "extend" offer was through, I don't think there was much in the inventory that I didn't have the chance to get quite familiar with.
If I had pulled these off line, I likely would not picture someone that could loose a few pounds as a model :big:
Offer is still good: if you ever get down here, we can create another true adventure for about 2 weeks with you as the star! :tickle: :tied:
Glad you enjoy this. More to come....
Tony2
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 9:37 am

xtc wrote:I could have done with a photo of the first situation! Nice to know you're still posting.


At that point, I think he was too busy laughing to remember the camera! :lol: :!:
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nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby mserich » Sat Apr 12, 2014 12:51 pm

Most definitely continue!! To know this is real is incredible... you must have had such a huge love/hate relationship with the whole ordeal!

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Sat Apr 12, 2014 3:15 pm

jfcube wrote:Most definitely continue!! To know this is real is incredible... you must have had such a huge love/hate relationship with the whole ordeal!


LOL, True. It depended on what situation I was in at the time I thought of it :lol: :bondage1:
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Tue Apr 15, 2014 3:10 pm

Teaser time:
What do you think happened the next 4 days? same night bondage? different? more?
Take a guess, you'll find out if you're right in a few days.
Aloha,
Tony2
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nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby mserich » Wed Apr 16, 2014 3:12 pm

Over the next four days, he was tied up in different ways at night, with gear being added and removed some. After all, doesn't he want to get a good ROI on all his stuff?? ;)

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Wed Apr 16, 2014 6:19 pm

LOL, were you there with me??? You're warm but no cigar yet.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby Antonius » Sat Apr 19, 2014 7:39 pm

Just commenting so that it shows up in my posts. All the appreciation I have towards this story has been expressed in every possible way by those commenting before me.
I didn't choose the TUG life, the TUG life chose me.

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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 7 now here

Postby tony2 » Sun Apr 20, 2014 7:55 am

thanks. he's not through by a long shot (little did I know at the time)!
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 8 now here

Postby tony2 » Mon Apr 28, 2014 12:01 am

Chapter 8

it's true! A person can sleep sitting up!

There I was, snuggled up to that rail. I could move my legs as long as I moved them in the same direction at the same time since the ankles were locked together. I could also move my head about 3 inches in a 180° arc from the top of the railing to which it was affixed. Nor did I have to worry about snoring and waking myself up: the locked on leather hood pretty much sealed my mouth closed.

Actually I did manage to nod off and sleep, much better than I thought I would. At about 630 in the morning I hear his alarm go off which brings me and my bladder into a full waking state. Fastened directly across from the open bathroom door and I must admit the facilities there are beginning to look more and more inviting as I begin to wake up even more.

I'm guessing it was about 15 minutes, although it seemed like five hours, after the alarm first went off before he dragged himself out of bed and padded directly into the bathroom as he, almost sleepwalking, stepped over me to get into the bathroom and close the door behind himself. The dog! All I could do was sit there and listen to him running water in the shower, running water in the sink, flushing the toilet and with every noise that emerged from those confines, my situation and that of the rug underneath me were becoming more and more perilous.

Finally he emerges. He looks down at me and he's got this huge grin on his face as he said, "well I assume you had a good night sleep. You certainly slept tight in any case. I'll bet you'd like me to see if I can go and find the key. Or I can go down and have breakfast and release you when I'm through?"

Okay, he got me. At that last comment I'm shaking my head no as much as the restraints will allow as well as whining in the gag in desperate hopes that he is just "pulling my chain." He continues to laugh as he retires to his bedroom without committing to his future actions one way or the other thus leaving me wondering about my immediate future as well as the sanctity of the rug upon which I was sitting.

Finally he emerges and jangles a key ring with only a couple of keys on it. The right ones! The hands if you remember are simply wrapped twice around each wrist and attached to a belt on that side of the body. They were just buckled: no locks. Maddening most of the night because every time I woke up I would try and think of the new way to at least get the buckle undone. None of them worked of course. With my elbows locked through the iron grating it probably wouldn't have done me much good anyway. Once my hands were free I expected him to remove the shackles from at least one arm or free my head from the railing. All he did was hand me the keys and say you're on your own or something to that effect. I had to pass both arms through the railing with their attached shackle cuff. Then with my muscles being stiffer than usual and my body's attention becoming more and more focused on other priorities, I had to pass the key in one hand over to the lock on the opposite elbow, engage it and free it without dropping the key. If I did I would be stuck there until he finished his breakfast and came back upstairs.

Now the thoughts really begin to go through your mind: what side of the cuff was the keyhole on? Does this cuff have a center keyhole or is it more towards one edge than the other? Very carefully with fingers and a thumb that are still trying to hold on to this key ring I gently massaged each side of the cuff and determined the location of the keyhole. Then of course the fun began as I very carefully probed the key into that part of the cuff which I suspected held the keyhole.

To one that hasn't done this it is kind of like playing golf by braille. At last the key was engaged, turned and for the first time in about six hours at least the cuff was disengaged from that elbow. After that, the iron fell away rather quickly and with the release of the collar lock I was finally out of that leather prison.

Not concerned at the moment about tidying up after myself I stumbled the three steps into the bathroom and began to appreciate those wonders of modern convenience. After a shower and shave, I emerged looking not too much the worse for wear. I picked up the toys and put them away and got dressed to go to work. The loss of body hair that I had suffered in the previous week was not hesitating to remind me of my loss every time the pant fabric moved against my skin. It was beginning to grow out and was snagging on the wool fiber in the suit. Then it was breakfast, a cup of coffee, a chat with my old friend there who said as I was leaving, "don't make any plans for the weekend. I think you're already booked."

Throughout the drive to work his words were ringing in my ears trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that (darn, my butt is itching, even through my shorts. When did I ever agree to a body shave? Oh well, it's too late now to be splitting hairs over that (LOL.).

Work was a good distraction and being able to move around was even better, but if it wasn't for three chocolate bars I'm not sure I wouldn't have fallen sound asleep standing up by 2 o'clock that afternoon.

Finally the work day was over and I was heading home. I stopped at the local grocery store and picked up a few emergency items (like a couple of sixpacks) before finally arriving at home and once again crossing that familiar threshold. I called for him, but he wasn't there. "Oh that is just too bad. I'm really going to suffer his absence I'm sure!"

Being a big fan of Superman at one time, I looked around but couldn't find a telephone booth to jump into, so I went to my room and changed out of the suit and put on a much more comfortable pair of shorts. I then satisfied my almost lusting after two of the bottles of the treasures I had just brought home. With their final consumption and the softness of the couch upon which I rested, I was actually feeling pretty good. You've heard the expression, I'm sure, that nothing good lasts forever. Sure enough, at that point in through the door he comes. He also had with him a bag of groceries which I'm glad to say was more solid and less liquid than the one I brought home. He is a good cook and he likes to play in the kitchen. In that regard we get along quite well because I like to eat. I told them of the treasure that was awaiting him in the fridge and a little while later he comes out with a bottle in each hand as he sits down he hands one to me (my third. I am definitely going to have to use the bathroom before he gets started on this evening's activities.

"You know, I've been thinking, and if we get your moneys worth out of one or two items at a time, with your collection it would probably take a year to get through it all." I thought about that a minute or two, "you're probably right, but what are you getting at?

"Well we can take some of the free and television time in the early evening and get them out of the way so you don't have to sleep in all of these things."

Shit , I'm in trouble. I'm beginning to think I should take up stamp collecting instead of toy collecting. Well anyway, his efforts are very creative and amusing not to mention challenging to try and figure how to get out of. I guess I'll just wait and see what he has in mind. After finishing his beer he excuses himself to the kitchen to start dinner. Me? I decide to stretch out full-length on the living room carpet because I suspect this is going to be a rare opportunity in a little while.

Soon he pops into the living room with something dangling from his right-hand. "Stand up and take your shirt off. With a little time before dinner I just want to see how this looks on you and how super easy it is for you to get out of it. From the back two straps go over each shoulder then under the arms to buckle together in the middle of the back. So far so good. Challenging, but escape at this point seems possible. Then a larger strap hangs from behind the neck down the middle of the back where it buckles into a second strap connected to two wrist cuffs. "Come on now, put your hands behind your back." I complied and each wrist was strapped into its respective leather cuff which was then buckled shut. So far, so good. The dimming possibility to escape seemed to present itself so I figure in about 30 minutes I should have this figured out. He then inserts the strap from the wrist into the strap descending from the nape of my neck.

As he begins to tighten it my wrists are further and further pulled up behind my back. With each buckle hole he passes, I can see this is getting more and more difficult to wiggle out of. Finally he stopped and buckled it off.

"Boy, this is not going to be easy for me to get out of."

"That's the general idea, but I'm not through yet." With that he pulls out two good-sized master padlocks and loops them through the buckles in the center of my back. That's good to make things a little more difficult, but maybe I can slip that strap down over my shoulder. He then pulls out two smaller padlocks which he puts onto the two wrist cuffs.


chr6a.jpg




Okay, that's not too bad for the next 30 minutes or so and by then dinner should be ready. In the meantime I've figured out how to use the remote for the TV and I relaxed on the couch watching some stupid TV show. Finally he comes in and says dinners ready, come into the kitchen. So I get up and follow along and there on the table is everything perfectly served up and even another opened bottle of beer next to my plate. I walk over to my chair and turned around with my back to him and moving my hands out and in towards my body saying that it was time to take this off.

"Not just yet. For the moment, I will spoonfeed you your dinner so sit down and "dig in"". I began to protest this was too soon in the evening and I would rather feed myself so please free me.

As usual, my protests fell on deaf ears. He just sat there and finally crossed his arms over his chest waiting for me to run out of steam I supposed. He then grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and began making vertical marks on the page. Finally I asked what were those for? He replied each mark represents a separate bitch I made about my current condition. Each mark would extend the time I would be in this and I saw the paper was filling up.

Realizing I was just digging my own grave further and further, I sat down and changed the subject to asking for a swallow of that beer. He got a big smile on his face, which in my present circumstances was not encouraging at all. He then drops a soda straw into the bottle and moves it in front of me. Drink all you want he said. Have you ever tried to drink warm beer out of the soda straw? As the bubbles tried to pop up inside your mouth, you try to swallow it before you wind up spraying it. Another new lesson learned. At this stage of the game I am now an expert at beer guzzling with a soda straw! Amid his laughing and giggling at my circumstance, he did an admirable job in not only preparing the meal but also serving it in a most unexpected way.

Dinner over, he said not to worry but he would clean up the kitchen that night since it looked like I was otherwise occupied (I really didn't like the potential term implied in his statement and I soon found I wasn't going to be disappointed.).

"Do you have to go to the bathroom?" Ah here was my means of escape. "Yes please, thank you." When he inquired what exactly I had to do in there and discovering I just had to take a really pressing leak, he told me to stand up and turn around. Okay I thought, these things are coming off now.

Once my back was turned he simply grabbed my shorts and pulled them down to my ankles saying okay step out of them. Now of course, I wasn't entirely in my birthday suit, but I also didn't count the leather very far towards clothing. "All right, get going and don't forget to flush." With that he sent me on my way with a smart slap to my now bare rear end.

Once there, I decided to do my business sitting down; Otherwise I couldn't even guarantee to myself in what direction that stream was going to take off.. That's the unfortunate part of a good beer: you never buy it, you merely rent it.

Finally, finishing up (and flushing the toilet too) I rejoined him in the kitchen where he looked at me and said that very threadbare joke: "Did everything come out all right?". It was bad enough to be sitting naked in the kitchen wearing this leather, but to have to listen to his bad jokes as well was almost cruel and unusual punishment. Finally, he goes to the fridge and returns with two open bottles of beer, one of which seems to be proudly displaying its own soda straw! After getting his jollies out of my embarrassment, the now decided it's time to help me back into my shorts. It was an idea that I definitely couldn't resist.

Now, lightly clothed at least, we sat and chatted about various things until the beers were gone at which point he offered to get me another. "No thanks. I was thinking that if I stopped now, my bathroom break before tying me up for the night would take care of most of the pressure the consumed beer would be causing.

"Boy, look at the time. It's already 830. Probably time for bed as I've still got a lot of work to do in my room."


"Isn't it a little early? We are usually up till 1130 or later."

"True, but I think you'll need the extra time to work out how you are going to get out of this if I don't help you."

With that, he rotated off his chair and sat on my thighs pinning me firmly to my chair. Before I could protest or comment, with one hand he pushes back on my forehead while he stuffs a small sock in my mouth with the other. When he reaches behind my head and pulls my head down toward my chest so I can't get enough play to open my mouth enough to spit the sock out. Very shortly I didn't have to worry about that. Sure enough, the next moment I'm in the embrace of an old friend: the leather helmet. When cinched up in the back, it's almost impossible for me to open my mouth other than parting my lips. Consequently, after that our conversation got distinctly one-sided.

He led me upstairs and sat me down with my back to the railing, just like the night before. Sure enough, he went and got the ankle shackles that he now clamped on each arm is above the elbow after winding chain through the other side of the iron bars. Then he snugged the top of the helmet securely back to the top of the railing and tied it off. I started moaning my displeasure at this ambush as that was about the extent of my options. But he was not finished yet.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to shackle your ankles together." Instead, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small metal item which turned out to be thumb cuffs which now serve their duty as big toe cuffs. He then turned out the lights upstairs, stepped over me and started down the stairs on the opposite side of the railing. Not letting the good opportunity pass, as he drifted near my position his fingers began counting and checking out the integrity or condition of each one of my ribs. That was totally unfair, but even without the helmet and the gag, I was trying to laugh so hard I don't think I could've said anything intelligent at the time anyway.

A few hours later the hall light goes on and I hear him coming up the stairs. At that point I was noticing the beers I had drunk earlier were preparing to make their encore performance. I really had to go. As he walked over me I grunted as best I could and started bouncing my rear end up and down and rolling it from side to side to the extent I was able.

"So you got to go, right?" I grunted in affirmation and attempted to nod my head but it felt like there was less than 2 inches of purchase space tonight so it didn't nod very far. "Well I'm not taking that stuff off of you until morning. I guess you'll just have to hold it."

"No, no, no," I screamed into the gag which of course came out quite a bit different than what I had intended. He got the message though and then told me he was just pulling my chain and that he would take care of the problem. How in the hell is he going to do that without releasing me?

The answer was soon to be all too clearly revealed: what is he doing with that roll of duct tape? And what is that other thing? He then pulled my shorts down to my knees and inserted my tool package into the cavernous confines of a male urinal. He then took several strips of duct tape and made sure the two were going to be together like a newlywed couple.

"Good night." He says as he ambles back into his room leaving me with my thoughts of what remained in my toy inventory and why I didn't take up stamp collecting at an early age instead.
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


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Talk is cheap viewtopic.php?f=78&t=21971

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xtc
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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 8 now here w/pics

Postby xtc » Mon Apr 28, 2014 4:34 am

. . . or perhaps beer mats?
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

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mikeybound
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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 8 now here w/pics

Postby mikeybound » Mon Apr 28, 2014 5:51 am

Just how long did this go on, anyway?

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tony2
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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 8 now here w/pics

Postby tony2 » Mon Apr 28, 2014 11:00 am

mikeybound wrote:Just how long did this go on, anyway?


Getting bored already Mikey? :worried:
If you believe in yourself enough -
nobody else will figure out you're faking it.


ANTS viewtopic.php?f=85&t=22496
Talk is cheap viewtopic.php?f=78&t=21971

mikeybound
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Re: TALK IS CHEAP...CH 8 now here w/pics

Postby mikeybound » Mon Apr 28, 2014 12:05 pm

tony2 wrote:
mikeybound wrote:Just how long did this go on, anyway?


Getting bored already Mikey? :worried:


Well you can only go so long with the same stuff. Did he really spend a year just tying you up overnight?


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