I said I was used to ropes. I could escape from even tight stuff. He said soft leather was his thing, but it was not easy to get out of leather whatever I thought. I scoffed a bit and said OK and we laughed over the rest of the coffee. Two days after I went up to North London. A big oldish house. I looked up at the stairs and he said "Uh-uh, downstairs."
We went through his kitchen and he unlocked a door and down brightly lit stairs.
like he said, soft leather. I twitched my muscles and felt ready.
"Stuffed and muzzled", he said. "This muzzle is hand bloody made. And, as he tightened the straps, I felt a sort of uncertainty in my stomach. My abs contracted and I made them contract hard and reassuring. I tugged at the stupid soft leather round my wristd. Round my ankles; and he smiled and tightened straps over my thighs and biceps.
He showed my a bundle of wires and sssid he hoped I would not mind his fingers placing and smoothing the terminals wherever he thought would be most sensitive.
I barked - obscenities in my mind - into the wadding and the muzzle.
I began to pour sweat. The soft leather straps were unbearable because the subdued the muscles but did not hurt.
And once he was happy, and smiling, he said "Good night."
The lights went out, except the bright light on his stairs, and said "Well Good Night for half an hour. You'll learn a hard lesson for saying my leather was easy. In half an hour you will feel the first tender electric impulse on your cock. The first of a great many."
janainaart
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ellievsbear
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