Apr 3, 2018

In Storage

I’m sure by now, it’s quite obvious that I have a thing for bondage. Something that may be a little less obvious is that I really enjoy a level of objectification. Part of this includes a form of bondage that finds the submissive (preferably myself) bound and stored away. Out of sight, out of mind, out of earshot. Completely and utterly helpless. This is not the most popular usage for bondage within kink circles, so it can be a bit of a challenge to find a Dom that enjoys subjecting a sub to such strict and often lengthy scenes.

I was recently fortunate enough to experience a scene like this, which is something I’ve only been able to experience a handful of times. But this time was different. The bondage was more intensive. The isolation was deeper. The Dom screwed with my head in such a way that had me crying for freedom, yet begging for more.

Knowing I was into storage bondage, we agreed on a scene where I was to be stored away in a leather hogsack for a timeframe of about two to three hours. I would be kept in a bedroom, door closed, while everyone else would enjoy their morning downstairs, in the basement. I would be checked on every 30 minutes or so to ensure that I was safe. I expected someone to come in and ask a few questions, such as “How is your breathing?”, “Is your circulation ok?”, and “Is there anything that could potentially become an issue in the next 30 minutes?”

It didn’t take long for me to be completely encased in the hogsack, on my belly, with nothing but my head exposed, which sported a blindfold to keep me in the dark. My fingers were wrapped around small balls, stuffed inside leather fist mitts, before being connected behind my back. The straps were pulled snug and buckled in place. The Dom gave me a simple “goodbye” and I heard the door close gently, before hearing the creaking of the floor as he walked away down the hall.

I was alone.

I struggled with nearly everything I had, checking that the bondage was secure and complete. It certainly was. I could not even roll over on my side or back due to the strict nature of the hogsack and the way my knees were spread wide. I continued to struggle for a few minutes more before coming to a rest and contemplating my situation. In the quietness of my isolation, one sound could be heard: the faint ticking of a clock. I counted each tick for a minute and thought to myself, ‘I only have to do that 30 times, and then do all of that 5 or 6 more times”. That’s when my situation started to sink in, and the mind-fuck began.

What I assume was 30 minutes later, the door opened and someone came in to check on me. I put up some light struggling to signal that this position was not the easiest. Nothing was wrong, so I said nothing. But neither did the Dom. I could hear him walk around the bed, then leave. The door closed again and that was that. No questions asked. Just someone coming and and looking at their toy to make sure nothing had happened to it. I wasn’t even afforded words. I was just an object stowed away. More mind-fuckery.

I struggled, with more purpose this time. Before long, I wore myself out and decided that I should try to sleep to pass the time. There wasn’t much else I could do. Unfortunately, the intensity of the position didn’t allow me to sleep. I couldn’t physically escape my bonds. By the time my next check-in was due, I couldn’t knew I couldn’t mentally escape them either. There was not escape at all. Just complete helplessness. My mind was turning to mush.

After a couple more check-ins, I had reached what I suspected was the two hour mark. With each check-in, my struggles became more intense. At one point, my straps were tightened just a bit. My moaning evolved into whining. While I never said a word, the noises I made practically pleaded for release.

Things changed up a bit. The Dom came in, but this time spoke to me; briefly telling me that at some point in the future, my storage would end, and I would be flipped onto my back and have more cock and nipples tormented before finally being released. With that, he left, but only to return just a few minutes later. He spoke again, telling me to close my eyes and keep them closed at risk of a severe punishment. With two check-ins so quickly and a request from the Dom, I believed I was going to have the blindfold removed and was to keep my eyes shut to lessen the pain of the bright lights in the room. I did as I was told and the blindfold was removed. Expecting to be flipped over, as promised, I braced myself for the procedure, only to feel a double-thick spandex hood pulled roughly over my head. Once it was properly situated, he left again.

Again, only a few short minutes went by before he returned. This time, reaching under the sack to locate and tease my hard cock. After he made sure I was hard, he tightened each strap as tight as they would go, making my predicament even more intense than it had been. I was then told that the torment would begin… In an hour.

I struggled and whined with everything I had left. I threw my body back and forth as far as my binds permitted as the Dom simply said, “I could watch that all day” before I heard the familiar sound of the door closing again.

I was a wreck. A mushy brained bondage boy, dying for release, but craving more. I’ve never been in that headspace before, and it was absolutely incredible. I can’t wait to experience it again, but for a longer period. One thing is for sure: this is a form of bondage that I need more of in my life.