Feeder Posted March 19, 2013 Report Posted March 19, 2013 To see Bike Guy's original blog post click here I would say about three or four years ago I agreed to pose for a photographer - a legitimate one. He provided me a few of the images he took - and he took close to a hundred. He was using a few for his portfolio to get new clients. From what I remember, he only used two for himself. One I liked, one was just ok. The shoot was real. He had an assistant and nothing else happened. It was just pictures. The idea came up later that he'd like to do a shoot of suits as bondage. Neck ties binding the hands, shit like that. I think it's all been done before, but I was up for it. Nothing ever came of it. Flash forward a few years later and the guy is on-line and pings me. Do I want to meet for coffee? Um. No, I reply, but I do like 'cream'. I'm invited over. We're just talking and showing off and he asks me how I like to play. I say I'm open. He likes that and we head to the basement where he took my photos all those years ago. Going into a closet, he comes out with bags. Bags full of restraints, of chains, of wrist protectors, cuffs, paddles, etc. Apparently this is how he likes to play. We don't discuss limits. We don't discuss safe words. He takes my left hand and wraps a wrist restraint around it. He threads the chain and hooks it to the ceiling. He continues the process with the right wrist. Then it is onto the the left and right ankles to a board he has laid on the floor. Soon enough, I'm a human X. Oddly, my dick responds. He smacks my abs. First lightly, testing my reaction. Then harder. I don't say 'no'. He notices this. Soon, out comes the ear protection. They truly cut off all sound. I see his lips move yet I hear nothing. He was hoping for such. Then comes the blindfold. It is now dark. Dark. Silent. Suspended. This is how he plays. I'm hit. I'm hit again. I don't react. My dick does, but I do not. No words. No sounds. And even if I did, I couldn't hear myself. My cock responds. He ties rope around it and secures one end to the board my legs are chained to. The cock still responds. There is a paddle on my ass. Swats, 6-8 times. I lose count. There is a light cat o'nine tails that hits my back, my chest, my legs. There is nothing. For minutes. Is it playful anticipation? Has he left? Is he just standing admiring? I have no idea and no way to find out. I remain suspended. I feel a hand on my cock. Slick. He's applied something. He strokes. I don't want to cum, but I don't protest as it seems useless. I can't swat him away. I can't retreat. I can say 'no', but I can't hear me and he won't hear me. So he strokes. I concentrate on not shooting. I have a strong will this way. He stops. Soon he's behind me. My tits are being played with and I can feel his cock at my crack. We did not discuss, not that we have to. I wasn't prepped, but that's his problem, but it isn't as he never follows through. He's just letting me know he could if he wanted. I know. I know. Soon my chains are being loosened, but not removed. I'm moved and on my back on the carpet. The chains on my wrists are being reattached to something floor level but above my head. He's on my chest. His dick is at my mouth. I open. He inserts. The angle is all wrong. Only 3" goes in, but it is a nice cock. I can tell. Deaf and blind, I can tell. He backs up but still on my chest. He is moving. He's jacking. This I know. He shoots - gobs and gobs of semen. It hits my cheek, my nose, my forehead but mostly into my beard. I open my mouth but catch very little, which I believe was his intent - me not getting it. The blindfold is removed and the ear things. He has a camera and is taking pics of his load on my face. The camera was not there before. This I know. Was that the period of time he may have been gone or silent? He's smiling, almost laughing. I'm still bound. He strokes me. I can't stop him. I cum. I can tell it would be big with the right manipulation, but he doesn't have it down. The load is respectable, but I could have shot it over my head if done by myself. That wasn't the point. Control was. He laughs. He throws a towel my way I can't possible reach with my hands the way they are. He frees me and I clean up, refusing his offer for a shower. This is how I will leave. Before leaving, he asks if I will pose for some images he will offer at CLAW - a leather event. Nothing too too graphic. No hard cocks. Just leather and hints of lust. I agree. Two days later, this and three other images appear in my email. The tinting and coloring are mine. The picture is all his. More...
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