Thursday, May 05, 2011

Stalking THAT gym guy - "Bound Ecstasy" from the RopeJock Archive

I know there are guys at your gym you watch.  Do you ever stop to consider there's maybe somebody watching you?  Behind the lust in his eyes are ideas, and when ideas become urges, beware...

Bound Ecstasy



Author Unknown

I watched him for some time, desiring him from a distance. A blond-haired Adonis, over six feet tall, and very muscular from regular workouts at the gym, which was where I first met him. I never saw him out with anyone and he kept pretty much to himself. Asking around, everyone had much the same thing to say, "Don't know much about him Nice guy. Real quiet. Always seems to keep his cool." From that moment, I knew my goal was to break down this man's dispassionate exterior. 

 
I finally got my chance one evening when, leaving the gym, I found him standing besides his car in the parking lot. He had accidentally locked his keys inside his car and was on his way to return to the gym to call his motor club.
"Don't you have another set of keys?," I asked him, after hearing his story. "Sure," he replied, with that annoyingly melodious calm voice, "But they're at home, where they aren't going to do me much good right now."
"Hey, " I jumped in, seeing an opportunity, "I'm not busy with anything at the moment. I'd be glad to run you over to your place then drop you back here, as long as you don't mind a quick stop by my house along the way so I can change clothes." He hesitated for a bit, but after some careful persuading on my part, he finally agreed. I could barely suppress my excitement at my luck. My chance had arrived. Soon I would have this muscular man under my control, and I would test the degree of that haughty self-control.
As we entered my house, I offered him a drink while he waited for me to change my clothes. It didn't surprise me to find out that he didn't drink. I don't think he would do anything that would disturb that stony wall he placed around him. But he did accept a 7-Up, which suited by plan fine. The knock-out powder mixed perfectly, with only a hint of cloudiness which I hoped he wouldn't notice.
"Drink up," I said. "I'll be ready in a moment, then we will take off." I closed the door to my bedroom, then stood quietly and listened. I heard him moving around my living room, inspecting the books on my shelves and so on. Every so often, I could hear him take deep sips from his drink. Finally, he settled down on the couch. After a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his empty glass fall onto the carpet. I entered the living room and found him passed out. I brushed the hair back from his forehead. "Now," I whispered, "You are mine."
While it was difficult lugging his body to my bedroom, anticipation gave me strength. The knock-out powder wouldn't last long, so I had to work quickly. Laying him on his back on my bed, I pulled off his tee shirt to reveal a hairless, body-builders chest. His stomach rippled with muscles. I yanked off his tennis shoes and socks, then unbuckled his jeans and pulled them from his body. In keeping with the rest of his body, his legs were muscled and hairless. All that remained were his white jockey shorts. Slowly, I slipped one hand along each side of the waistband and, after taking a deep breath, eased them down his legs. Soft, brown hair curled around the area that, in contrast to the rest of his body, appeared small, but beautifully formed . His balls rode up close to his body. At rest, his cock was somewhat small, and not very thick. However, my plans were to see just how much it could grow.
My victim stirred slightly, breaking me from my dreaming to remind me that I didn't have much time. If he awoke before I could secure him in place, I would never be able to restrain him. I stretched out his arms and legs toward each of the four posters of my bed heavy oak bed. From a box underneath the bed, I pulled out an assortment of heavy leather straps I had purchased for this situation. Quickly, I began strapping him down, first wrapping his wrists firmly to head posts. Another wide leather strap reached around the bed to cross his forearms, near the elbows. Another strap crossed his chest, just above his nipples, and I wound another over his waist, just below his bellybutton. Continuing my task, I secured straps across this thighs as well as below his knees. Finally, I secured his ankles firmly to the lower bed posts. For my final step, I placed a blindfold across his eyes. It would increase his anticipation if he didn't know where he was or what I was planning to do. He was effectively bound to the solid oak bedframe, unable to move an inch, and completely vulnerable. It wasn't long before my victim woke and he immediately began struggling against the straps, but his efforts were useless; they held him in an iron grip.
I walked slowly about the bed, ignoring the questions he called out. My walls were thick and I had no close neighbors, so he could shout all he wanted. Leaning over, I drag my fingernails across his chest and down his stomach. I pause with one finger on his calf. This is where I would start. First a solitary finger lightly dragging itself up and down his calf.... then two.... three.... Soon both of my hands are massaging his firm calves.
"Hey! " he demanded, struggling fiercely in the leather straps, "What do you think you're doing! Get your hands off me! Leave me alone!"
I move my hands slowly up his body. Up his calves, past his knees, to his thighs, moving slowly towards his genitals. I experience a demon-like desire to toy with him and nothing was going to stop me. As my hands approached his balls, a sly smile crept across my face and I stop moving up his body. I watch as he squirms uncomfortably, trying to find a position that will relieve the tension he tries to deny building up within him. He tosses his head about in shame as he feels his body's unwilling response to my touch. I drink in the feelings of power and control, letting them surge through and intoxicate me. With the tip of my tongue, I lightly circled his nipples, listening to his curses, fully enjoying the tone of desperation that is gathering in his voice. But I'm not ready to have this end too quickly. I still wanted to break down his cool facade. What else can I do to him? Rising, I walk about the bed again, and pause near his right foot. With one quick motion, I run my index finger from heel to toe, causing his body to jerk violently in its bonds.
"DON'T DO THAT!!," he calls out, wriggling and twisting uneasily. I watch him nervously wet his lips and, smiling mischievously, I begin to stroke the soles of both feet. I hear the sharp intake of breath as he tries to restrain himself, gritting his teeth. I laugh aloud at my fortune. Here I had this big, muscular Adonis, bound helpless and at my disposal, and I discover he's incredibly ticklish. Setting to work, I tickle his bare soles unmercifully and, after a few minutes of listening to incoherent grunts and demands to stop delivered through clenched teeth, soon had him laughing uncontrollably. "Ha-ha-ha-hhhheeee. Don't, pl-please! St-stop ti-ti-tickling! Stop it! Ha-he-he-hey-no- no-nooo-oh, my god! Ha-ha-ha-he-hey-he!" His feet appear to be especially vulnerable and I began tracing small swirls with my nails to extract the maximum benefit from each stroke. He howled in laughter, interspersed with the occasional oath and dire threats of retribution. I couldn't bring myself to stop and continued tickling his feet, driving him into a fit of contortions and convulsions, wriggling, squirming and writhing as much as the leather straps allowed. He tugs desperately at his bonds, gasping for breath between every shuddering laugh.
After about fifteen minutes, I stop to let him catch his breath and moved to kneel across his chest. His hands clench into fists and jerk at their straps as he guesses at what was coming next. Leaning forward, I tickle his exposed armpits. The result was instantaneous. "AH, NO- NOOOO!" A shriek of laughter erupts from his lips. "HA-HA-HA-HE-HE-HEY-Oh-Oh-HA-HA-HA!" The bed frame creaks and groans as he asserts his full strength against the straps hold him, but they hold him tight. He sobs, screams, curses and threatens me, all to no avail. I bounce atop his writhing form as he arches his back, endeavoring to twist himself away from my probing fingers, but straps do not provide him the room. He can do nothing! I am caught up in my desire to breakdown this man completely. The more he cries out, the greater the pleasure I feel. I pour over his entire body, seeking out every little spot that he might want to hide, lingering the longest where the scream of his laughter was the loudest. He was fast being driven to madness by this terrible tickling.
Finally, as I notice tears running from beneath his blindfold, I pause again to let him rest and regain his breath. I must be careful not to overdo it. I desire this to last as long as possible. Soon, his breathing begins to steady, although he was obviously still weak, and he struggles to regain his shattered dignity.
Now I change my tactics. Slowly, my hands creep closer and closer to his balls until my fingers begin to lightly brush against his scrotum and I tickle his balls with my fingertips. His deep groans take on a more desperate tone. "Oh..um ...no! Pl-please! Um..Oh-oh-no....um...Don't--don't do this to me. Stop it!" His writhing becomes more frantic as he gasps and works to regain control over his own body. I gently lick, stroke and massage his cock and balls until he is at the very edge of an orgasm, then stop. I laugh as he thrashes uncontrollably and thrusts his hips up into the empty air. Waiting until I see that he has begun to lose his erection, I start licking and stroking him once again. Over and over I drag him to the brink only to leave him teetering on the edge. After a few aborted orgasms, his body is jerking and thrusting to my every caress. Pushed to the extreme point of endurance, he is nearly in complete hysterics, just as I planned.
I leisurely maneuver into a comfortable sitting position between his outstretched legs, and take hold of his cock in one hand. Meticulously, I pour some oil into the palm of my other hand. Making sure I have a good grip, I gently, but firmly place my slick palm on the head of his cock... then slowly begin moving up and down the very head, rubbing with the tiniest little circles... slowly increasing the action until he is writhing madly as I knew he would.
I laugh fiendishly as he strains wildly against his leather bonds. I edge him closer and closer to the point of orgasm.
"Plleeeeaaassse," he moans between clenched teeth. "Let me cuuummmm!!!". His body strains against the bonds holding him, arching so that the straps bite deeply into his flesh. Just as the moment arrives, I violently tickle his sides. "Ah-h-h... hee-e-hey-ah-oh-oh-hee-hee-haw- haw-ah-h-h!... AH-H-H-H-H-H...!" As the last of his self-restraint falls into tatters, he surrenders to a sweat-soaked climax of shattering intensity, erupting high into the air. He falls back against the bed, blubbering in helpless ecstasy.
"You're strong," I whisper in my captive's ear as I lay across his still shuddering body. "It may take a little longer this time, but the night's still young." As I slowly begin to caress his calves once again, he tosses back his head and screams into the night.

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