It was only then that Achim noticed the room had no windows, and the door had no handle – just a lock. It seemed to symbolize inescapability. Not that it mattered, he thought, because once someone was strapped to that bed, getting free would be impossible ...
There was a brief, claustrophobic moment when Achim became fully aware of everything. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself before removing his shirt and trousers and reaching for the so-called cock restraint.
Nervousness and excitement dulled his arousal to a minimum, so he set the toy aside for the moment. Simply lying down and letting everything happen to him was not his style. He also wanted to be seduced – preferably with a gentle, teasing prelude.
The straitjacket hanging on the hook, however, fascinated him. It drew him in, and he subjected it to a closer inspection. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he noticed the long sleeves with thick straps at the ends. He had always dreamed of being helplessly confined in such a garment, writhing under the skilled hands of a woman. Could that dream even come true today?
As he stretched up to take the straitjacket off the hook, he was suddenly grabbed from behind. Two surprisingly strong hands dug into his ticklish ribs and sides, causing him to double over with laughter. But the tickling didn’t stop – on the contrary, it became more intense, throwing him completely off balance.
Martina had crept in quietly and surprised him with expert fingers targeting his most sensitive spots. Helpless with laughter and overwhelmed by the tickling, Achim literally collapsed to his knees.
“You naughty boy! Didn’t I tell you to lie down and wait for me like a good patient? What makes you think you can snoop around here? Just wait – I’ll have to teach you a lesson…” she scolded him in a mock-stern tone, all the while tickling him so effectively that he writhed on the floor, breathless and laughing.
Though he was physically much stronger than Martina, her ability to pinpoint his most sensitive areas left him utterly defenseless. Before he knew what was happening, she had grabbed the straitjacket and bound him in it with practiced movements. Not that he put up much of a fight – in fact, he even helped her a little, making it easier for her to secure his arms tightly across his torso.
Martina helped him to his feet and led him to the bed. He obediently lay down on his back. As he did, he noticed that his excitement had awakened his most intimate part, creating a noticeable bulge in the tight fabric of his thong.
Martina secured his ankles with leather cuffs, spreading them wide and attaching them to the lower bedposts. Then, she softly kissed the tip of his nose and blindfolded him with a strip of fabric.
“Ready for my special therapy for particularly unruly patients?” she asked, a playful laugh in her voice. Achim nodded silently, anticipation building.
As Achim lay there, he tried to explore the little movement he still had. His arms were firmly restrained against his body, leaving no room for escape. Still, he thought he might be able to sit up – the way his legs were spread and fixed might even help.
However, his feet lay bare and defenseless in the cuffs. He listened intently to Andrea’s breathing, trying to pinpoint her location. Was she positioning herself strategically at the foot of the bed?
Apparently not. Instead, he heard her voice beside him: “Well, you certainly seem to be enjoying yourself already!”
A jolt of pure pleasure shot through him as she lightly brushed the bulge in his thong for the briefest moment. What would happen next?
The answer was not long in coming...
To be continued
- Ligoteur
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