reading

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publishers.

Chapter One

The Day, The Equipment & The Place

My wife, Morgana, and soon to become Owner, and I (Alaric) were in our mid-30’s and had been happily married for 10 years, during which time we’d been pretty successful in our careers and financial arrangements. We had a nice home in one of the smaller communities in the Lower Mainland of BC, travelled when we felt the urge, and generally enjoyed life. Neither of us wanted the encumbrance of children or pets and so enjoyed a carefree life with both vanilla and kink friends. Actually, at first I was the confirmed bent person in our relationship and although my Owner was kink-friendly, until this point she’d not really been a willing participant and had just said that I was to go off and enjoy myself with other kinks when the chance arose, with the only proviso being that extra-marital sex was a deal breaker. She was also aware of my desires to play very strict games of self-B&D, and to dress in women’s clothing (we both had separate wardrobes, but I had a male and much larger one of female clothes), but said little about it other than to remark with a laugh to our kink friends that I had a bigger and better selection of women’s clothes than she did.

Physically, we were both in good shape and although not your fashion versions of beauty and handsomeness, we made a good-looking couple. My Owner is 1.65 metres tall and a beautifully proportioned 50 kg and a little shorter at 1.55 metres, slim and weighed in at 60 kg, although I was beginning to get a bit of a beer gut. Even so, when I dressed in my TV clothing, got the make-up on right and used the tight foundation garments that were needed, I could ‘pass’ most of the time. I liked corsets and with the ones I had, could create a decidedly feminine waist profile.

Over the years, as with most married folks, our times of sexual escapades grew fewer and fewer and we had fallen into a casual and comfortable rut. When it happened it was great, but not with the same passion and exuberance of when we’d first started and so as things moved along and being a normal male, my sexual desires were transmuted into the kink side of my life and I indulged in my fantasies more and more frequently. Self-bondage became both a passion and a challenge, and this experience, when combined with strong e-stim, vacuum, suspension, total rubber enclosure and almost but not quite inescapable restraints became something that I began to experiment with on a more frequent basis.

To set the scene properly, I should explain that my Owner and I had purchased a small ranch and horse training facility, about 160 km from our home, nearly in the mountains, on the north side of the Fraser Valley. We’d to decided to stay there for the six Summer months to just enjoy the peace and too, so that I could pursue some of my decidedly not mainstream hobbies in privacy. With no livestock to have to take care of and, being removed from the nearest neighbours by some 10 km of country road, it was very quiet indeed. We made use of all the facilities, including a huge indoor arena, which was where a large part of the following story takes place. The house itself was large, very modern and came with all the conveniences, including excellent, satellite internet and Wi-Fi, so we could easily stay in touch with friends and the rest of the world. One of the nice features also, was that the previous owners had installed a large, industrial strength diesel/electric emergency generator system with huge tanks of fuel that could keep us going for over month, if need be. Too, and most attractive to me, was that it had a suite of hidden underground rooms which the previous owners had used as a wine cellar for their huge collection, and that alone clinched the deal. Being a pretty good handy man with a wide variety of skills, shortly after moving in, I began fitting out these as a ‘prison’ area and with the aid of local contractors, a welding shop and a local blacksmith, the work was soon completed. I’d located an old jail that was to be demolished and purchased all of the barred walls and doors as scrap, and to the doors all came with keys!

As to our recreation activities, other than travel, we were pretty much home bodies and able to run our separate companies from the ranch. We weren’t interested in playing golf, messing with boats, cars, or aircraft, but liked to take the occasional easy hike into the bush on our property. My true passion though was kink: B&D/S&M, Transvestism, and fetishism, and having a reasonable talent with words, I enjoyed writing stories about my favourite types of play. Not only that though, because over the years I had purchased an extensive array of all sorts of restraints and other lovely equipment to challenge and terrify me; some of it pretty nasty, I enjoyed actually using the equipment. Unfortunately, I seldom got to do any truly intense play and this resulted, inevitably, with me indulging in self-bondage, or solo play if you prefer. At any rate I soon became quite adept at setting up self-B&D situations, but I wanted to do the ultimate one ... to the point that I would be utterly unable to escape. I contacted my good friend, Marlene; a quite evil, highly-skilled pro-domme, and arranged with her to come and release me from my solo play session, because this time, I would be utterly incapable of doing so myself.

It took me a couple of days to arrange all of the complex details for my solo session to come, but soon the barn/arena, separated from the house by 300 metres of open lawn and with its own paved drive, was ready.

My Owner had gone to visit some old friends on the other side of the country and would be away for about 10 days, thus giving me free rein to proceed with my plans for this ultimate session, and so on a quiet Friday morning I began the process. Other than a visit by my good friend Mistress Marlene, a truly-dedicated sadistic lady who would come to release me ... eventually, I had no other guests coming while she was away. However, what I didn’t know was that she and my Owner had been conspiring for some time so that I could create the environment that would allow for my intense session of suspended, rubber-entombed, imprisonment and torment to happen. In fact, although I wasn’t aware of it either, they planned this to be the ‘softening up’ process for me to be more or less permanently locked into an elaborate, very secure, stainless steel, chastity cage and other restraints that would be impossible to remove once they’d been locked on. In addition though, the chastity device had also been created as my training and discipline aid, using remotely-controlled electric shock through the genitals. It was made by Dream Lover®, but the one that was especially created for me had been ‘souped up’ to an incredible extent. Marlene and my Owner had also decided that the only time I’d be released from the cage, once I’d begun to wear it, was when Marlene came to the house to torment me again. But there was to be more to my coming chastity confinement: far, far more, than just wearing the cage, as I would discover to my enduring horror. In fact, over the past year, Marlene had been quietly encouraging and training my Owner to empower herself and become both my Mistress and a full-on Owner, and at the same time to harden her heart so that she’d not worry about hurting me. Marlene had recognized a latent streak of sadism in my Owner and had encouraged it to flower.

Although blissfully unaware of it, I was about to step off the precipice and there would be no coming back.

This really serious session had been a long time coming to fruition and now it was time for me to finally go the complete route, but this time I’d use two full layers, then over these, the suspension harness.

At last, having procrastinated as long as I could, using every excuse I could come up with, I was ready to proceed. I’d taken care to set-up all of the clothing, equipment and restraints in the huge, open arena yesterday, so that they could be fitted in a logical progression. I knew from past experience that it would take me at least two hours to fully dress myself including the suspension harness, then probably another 30 minutes to connect all the hoses, wires, chains and restraints. So, I estimated that I’d begin my solo session around 11:45.

Marlene was supposed to arrive sometime after 8:00 in the evening, then eventually free me, but only after she’d had some sadistic fun, but to add to my uncertainty about how long I’d be tormented before I’d be released, she’d said that she might be delayed if other things along the way appeared more interesting. Of course she knew where the keys for the house and arena were hidden and once in the building, was familiar with all of the controls of the discipline machinery. So, with the ability to come and go as she wished as well as a thorough knowledge of the equipment and what it could do, together with a strong desire to torture me without worrying about disturbing anyone, I felt that I’d covered all the bases.

I’d ensured that the arena was quite cool because I’d be wearing two full rubber suits; the 1.05 mm thick under-suit and on top of that, the 3 mm thick wet suit, and so needed the temperature to be as low as possible to prevent heat prostration. That didn’t mean to say though that the extended session itself would not be a true trial of endurance and no doubt at points during it I’d faint or collapse for other reasons!

As to the personal appliances that would be used: over the years I’d purchased or created all of the necessary garments, toys and equipment, starting with a zipper-closed, thick rubber, under-helmet. This came with eye, nose and mouth holes and four ‘buttons’ around the face for the mounting of a blind fold and gag pad. I’d at last obtained my matching, custom-made, 1.05 mm thick rubber catsuit and it was closed by a strong zipper from the base of the spine to the top of the double thickness collar. It was truly a bondage suit if ever there was one, being so heavy and restrictive. It had been designed with an inner bra and at its front, small, reinforced-edged apertures were centred over each of my breasts to hold the vacuum/electrical breast cups tightly and securely in position. Its crotch had a three tab zipper to allow whatever access may be required and to ease entry, the lower arms had strong zippers on their undersides from the wrists halfway to the elbows, with the lower legs having the same arrangement from the inner ankles halfway to the knees. For my hand coverings, I had a pair of thin gloves for the inner suit, then would come a pair of long-gauntleted thicker ones to go over the inner ones.

For footwear I’d purchased a pair of thick latex, mid-calf length bootee’s and these had individual toe tubes, then for the outer footwear I had mid-calf length, zip-closed bootees. My outer covering was a three mm thick neoprene wet suit with a high collar, and a separate, matching open-face helmet with a long neck tube; this with a wide skirt/bib around the base of the neck that went part way down my chest at the front and back and out to my shoulders on the sides.

There was additional equipment I had to fit myself with before the inner helmet and the first was the set of nasal tubes: two, deeply-penetrating, eight mm diameter, 10 cm long, thick-walled, flexible black neoprene hoses that were designed to penetrate into my nostrils and deeply up into my sinuses. Two cm from one end of these tubes are ‘collars’ of three windings of aluminium wire and these are joined by a short ‘bridge’ that would rest against my septum once the tubes had been fully-inserted. Although they are certainly longer than needed and will be vastly uncomfortable to emplace, they are in fact a safety measure that will ensure that breathing through my nose will not be obstructed should the inner helmet slip down.

The next equipment is a pair of high-capacity ear buds that will act to both deafen me and to obscure all external sound when connected to a normal AM/FM radio that has been tuned to an FM frequency with only the constant hiss of static on it. The high volume being poured into my ears will eliminate any ability to hear other noise.

After the thick inner helmet has been slipped on and zipped closed after the nasal tubes and ear buds have been fitted, the next and scariest article will be a ‘Butterfly’ type gag partially-inflated with a silicone gel surrounding a wide diameter drinking/feeding tube that passes through it. Of course the gag is designed to ensure that any kind of coherent speech is virtually eliminated, as well as stifling any other cries, and without doubt, the screams that will surely emanate from within the confines of the gas mask. Whatever residual noise there is will be mostly eliminated by the gas mask itself and the long, corrugated air hoses attached to it.

My gas mask is a brand new, military grade one that comes with a six point head harness, two 40 mm, NATO thread air supply/filter ports and a one litre drinking reservoir that can be quickly and easily connected to its front, and then, inside, to the gag pad’s drinking tube. I’d created an option for the mask so that the inner side of the transparent face plate can be fitted with a one mm thick, black neoprene liner that completely eliminates any light from entering the mask, effectively rendering me blind. With this liner mounted on the inner side of the face plate, removal is prevented unless the mask is taken off.

The hardware and machinery that would soon be used took me a few years to acquire due to its cost, but it was all top-of-the-line quality and had been brought back to original factory specification in terms of performance. There were two Gast® industrial grade, vacuum pumps that develop nearly a full of 28” Hg and coupled with each of these is a real, Surge® milking machine oscillation valve that provides the constant, simultaneous suck-squeeze-suck/squeeze cycling. For e-stim, I have two, ErosTek®, ET-312B machines that have had their firmware and software modified and again, souped-up to meet my needs. Channel A of one of them is used for the penis sucker tube and Channel B is used for the bi-polar butt plug. The second e-stim unit has its Channel A split-routed to the right and left breast cups and Channel B is free to be used anywhere else. The firmware for this machine has also been modified so that the channels can mirror each other or be separately-controlled.

To control these devices and monitor my body reactions, I’d purchased a sophisticated, industrial Programmable Logic Controller (PLC) and spent considerable time setting it up to add-in all the randomness that I could imagine and thus ensure that the stimulation and torment that would come does not repeat in a predictable pattern. As well, at points during my session the PLC will remove or reduce my ability to breath, over and above the restriction already imposed by the bubbler columns of the air supply system. It will also control the volume of the static coming in from the ear buds, but will normally set it at maximum, and too, it will operate the electric hoist.

Other essential parts of the torment ensemble are, first, the set of two deep, clear acrylic, breast cups that have been modified to be vacuum and e-stim capable and a large bore, Surge®, milking machine teat suction unit and it too has been modified to be e-stim capable.. The tube is mounted in a rigid crotch cup that integrates with the suspension harness’s waist cinch and the crotch strap also holds the bi-polar, electric, brass butt plug in place.

In terms of the remainder of my restraints, I’d use my Axsmar®, five mm thick, 50 mm wide, stainless steel collar, and for my hands and wrists I have modified two sets of Peerless® hand cuffs and they are connected to the ends of a 60 cm long, 15 mm diameter, steel separator bar. My upper arms would be cuffed with larger Peerless® shackles; these to be cinched tight above the elbow joints, and I have left these with their regular connecting chain. For my ankles, I’ve modified another two sets of these larger shackles so that they are now fastened to the end links of a 30 cm long hobble chain with its central link having a six metre long leash chain fastened to it.

Inside the arena, all of the hardware is mounted in a rack in one of the rooms at the far end of the building where the hoses and cables are connected to the PLC switcher, and from it, to the equipment itself leads in a thick umbilical across the ceiling to hang beside the dangling leash chain and suspension cable and spring arrangement, then in a long loop, ready to be connected to my equipment. High on the wall below the umbilical is a separate, lockable panel that contains the system’s Master Control Switch.

The arrangements had already been set-up with all of the tools, garments, equipment, restraints, chains and leashes, pre-positioned on a large rolling table at the centre of the floor; needing only to be fitted, then have their opened locks closed before the stand was pulled beyond my reach by another winch. The keys and tools required to eventually free me of my equipment all hang at the end of the outer room and would only be available to Marlene, whenever she arrives. During the dressing sequence and for a randomly selected time before the session begins, the arena area will be fully-lit, but once the system’s Master Control Switch had been activated, at some point the PLC would extinguish the lights, then activate my ear buds so that I’ll be alone in a vast, total blackness, deafened by the unending static flooding into my ears while waiting in terror for it all to begin. In terms of bondage other than the restraints and harness I’ll already be wearing, once I’m fully-cuffed there will be no way for me to escape the small circle of freedom of movement defined by the leash chains and suspending cable. I’ll be tethered by the hoist cable and spring arrangement and a floor ring directly beneath, with a six metre length of chain so that I will be unable to get near any wall, or, of course the locked-away Master Control Switch on the far away wall. A backless stool is bolted to the floor off to one side, but it’s not really a place to rest.

Over the rubber suits I’ll wear my full body harness with its shoulder and centre-of-the-back waist cinch rings connected to the a metre long spreader bar. From the ½” diameter cable’s end hook, a shallow, the central link of an inverted ‘V’ of chain goes to the ends of the spreader bar and on the underside from the ends, the sets of heavy suspension springs will lead down to be clipped to the shoulder rings of the chest harness as well as to the rings on the waist cinch on each side. I employ the springs to virtually take away gravity. Any movement I make results in a gentle up and down bouncing reaction, and once I’m aloft, there’ll be no way to release them. Above, the cable leads over a set of pulleys to the remote-controlled winch in the other room and at some point after the lights go out, it will be activated and hoist me until the soles of my feet are a little more than six metres above the floor, then keep me there for an unknown length of time. At that height, if my legs are straight, there will be a small loop of the hobble chain that will allow me to kick, but only a little.

While I’m suspended and even while I’m not, the PLC will unleash all of the capabilities of the vacuum and e-stim equipment, but given the randomness I’ve programmed it, I have no idea of when, for how long, or what level of strength the various torments will be! I will remain a fully-suspended prisoner until Marlene decides to release me, but I know that when she takes over from the PC, she will quite happily torture me in her own way and for another unknowable time before I’m finally freed.

Being as weird as I am and a confirmed masochist, I’d been looking forward to this session with great anticipation, and not without a little fear, but really, I had no idea of the consequences of what I was about to do or of how dramatically my life would be altered after the session was done.

Chapter Two

The Preparation Processes

It was time to begin.

The time was just past 07:30 and outside it’s rainy, foggy and grey ... the perfect kind of weather for an extended length of play in rubber. After a single cup of coffee and a quick, highly-nutritious meal of toast, peanut butter and jam, I enjoyed a long, hot shower, shaved my face, then all of my arm, leg and body hair. This took about an hour and after thoroughly drying off, I pulled on a raincoat, then walked down the 300 metre lane to the cavernous barn and stepped inside. The whole floor area was brightly lit by banks of high intensity, overhead lights, but these would be extinguished to leave a vast, echoing dark space. I went to the room containing all of the machinery and ensured that it was all ready to be turned on by the PLC and once finished there, I stepped out onto the cool concrete floor and walked to the large tarpaulin spread out in the central area under the main beam. The rolling table was already set up with all stuff I’d need and so I returned to the wall and hung the raincoat on a convenient hook then walked naked, out to the preparation area. Once there, I immediately applied a full coat of silicon oil to my legs, arms, chest, and back so that the inner suit would slide on easily, but even though I’d fully-lubricated myself and its interior, it still took nearly 10 shivering minutes for me to slide into the oppressive rubber envelope. I’d clipped a ‘pull-up’ lanyard’ to the suit’s back zipper tab, but before closing it, I first had to fit the deep, vacuum/electrical breast cups. Before I did that though, I coated their rim and nipple electrodes with contact gel, then slipped both into the inner bra’s apertures, ensuring that the central, two cm diameter, spring-loaded electrode pads were centred on each of my nipples. As well, embedded in the bra’s chest band were heart rate and temperature sensors and these would also be connected to the PLC.

From there, it was a carefully-orchestrated task to pull the zipper’s tab up to just between my should blades where it would remain for a few moments. When the suit tightened around my chest, the undersized apertures on its front slid only part-way down over the rounded slopes of the cups because the holes are smaller than the cup’s base diameter and they also have a wide, surrounding, reinforcing ‘donut’. The suit’s tightness would keep the cups in their proper place, pressed firmly onto my chest. For the moment, the opened crotch zipper allowed my male plumbing to hang freely. With the suit being made of a 1.05 mm thick latex, now that I’d climbed fully inside, I rediscovered its very tight fit and restriction of nearly all movement.

Although a helmet is not an integral part of the suit, I used the thick and tight, full-face one I already own as it matches perfectly. The helmet is not only an additional form of bondage and restriction, but will ensure that the nasal tubes and ear buds remain fully in place, while also providing an absolutely smooth surface for an air-tight fit of the gas mask’s face-surrounding flange. It has a long neck tube with a wide ‘skirt around the base that will slip under the suit itself. There are apertures for my nostrils, mouth and eyes and it will integrate well with the under-suit. However, before putting it on I first have to fit myself with the ear buds with their thin cables arranged to emerge from under the back zipper of the helmet’s collar, double back up and emerge from the back of the suit’s high collar, then will come the long nasal tubes. I’ll only fit myself with the partially-inflated gag just before I put on the gas mask.

It was now time to put this assembly on and I began with the ear buds. They slipped easily into my ear canals, blotting out most of the noise in the already quiet barn, then, after carefully lubricating the flexible, eight cm length of each nasal tube with silicon oil, I took both at the same time and inserted them in my nostrils and began slowly pressing them fully into my sinuses. It’s painful to get them all the way in, but I eventually managed it; feeling the sensation of their penetration very, very intensely. Their outer ends project two cm beyond my nostrils, joined by the narrow wire bridge that now rests against my septum, preventing them from going any deeper. I quickly slipped the inner helmet over my head, then tugged it into place so that the ends of the nasal tubes stuck out through their holes and the mouth and eye holes lined up properly. Ensuring that the ear bud’s wires were comfortably routed, I closed the helmet’s crown zipper to the bottom of its neck tube at the bottom of the skirt and the sensation of the snugness of the collar is both exciting and a little frightening, but I continued with the process.

At this point it was time to fully close the back zipper of the inner suit and so, grasping the lanyard once more, I carefully pulled the zipper’s locking tab all the way to the top of the suit’s own double thickness collar, feeling the further encasement of my neck when it closed snugly around the helmet’s neck tube. This is an intense exploration of sensations and I was already shivering with the feelings of the encapsulation so far, but there’s much, much more to come! As a dedicated rubber enthusiast, I’m truly driven, and so proceeded with the almost religious process. Now came the thick, black latex, calf-high, toe socks. In moments I’d lubricated them and slipped them onto my feet, ensuring that each of my toes nestled deep inside its own small, tight, restrictive tube. That feels very weird. I rolled the opened lower legs of the inner suit down over the calf-high socks, then quickly closed their zippers to my ankles, sealing the socks in place. For the moment, my hands and lower arms remain completely uncovered, with their sleeves rolled up to my elbows and they’d remain that way until near the end of the dressing process.

The ritual of fitting myself with the under-equipment had taken nearly 30 minutes and even though the barn was cool, I could already feel the heat building up, sweating inside the inner suit. As is normal, I was beginning to feel more than a small measure of claustrophobia, but that’s all a part of the ‘thrill’ of full rubber entombment and for the moment I can deal easily with it, knowing, however, that at some future point in the session, the feeling will mushroom to full panic and I will somehow have to handle it.

Sitting on the stool, I slipped my rubber-encased feet into the wet suit’s matching neoprene bootee’s and these went on easily, then were zipped closed to part-way up my calves, covering my already rubber-tubed lower legs and the under socks. Next, I slid my feet and legs into the wet suit’s leggings, then drew them and the rest of the garment up my thighs and body; more and more enjoying the sensation of sinking further into the total rubber envelopment when I shrugged into it. The front of the wet suit has also been modified so that there are apertures for the breast cups and these slipped partially down over them. With the lanyard now clipped to the back zipper tab of the wet suit, I pulled the tab up to between my shoulder blades, where it would remain for a time, before being closed fully. For the moment, its crotch zipper was also open, as were the ones on the lower legs and fore arms, then I rolled the leggings down to my ankles, covering, the calf length bootees and zipped them closed, sealing all of my footwear in place.

As the final, restricting touch, I slipped my rubber-encased feet and legs into my 10 cm heeled, steel horseshoe-soled, hoofed boots and laced them tightly closed all the way to the knee. A small, lockable cup covered the lace’s knots and so the boots could not now be escaped until the appropriate key was used. Although not strictly a part of the rubber enclosure, the hoofed boots added immensely to my sensations of restriction and exterior control. They were heavy and forced me to walk on my toes with their horse shoe shod souls making a loud clip-clop sound when I walked across the 10 metres of floor to the step stool that waited under the lockable panel containing the Master Switch. I climbed carefully to the top step and flicked the switch to the “ON” position, then closed and locked the panel. Its key is also a part of the bunch that would be needed by Marlene to free me ... eventually. With the system now activated, the built-in delay for the programming would not start until at least an additional 90 minutes had elapsed, thus allowing me plenty of time to complete the preparations. I returned to the stool.

It was time for the first set of restraints; these being the doubled ankle shackles, joined by a 30 cm chain whose central link was fastened to a six metre long leash. The chain’s other end was securely fastened with a cranked down Kwik-Link® that had been passed through a very securely-mounted floor ring, effectively restricting me to only a small central part of the large concrete floor of the arena space. Given that length, I’d not be permitted to get near any wall, or the now locked-away Master Switch. I quickly clasped the shackles around my multiply-covered and well-padded ankles, then ratcheted them tight so that they locked-on all of the foot coverings, leaving me with no hope of getting any of them off without the keys.

My suspension harness was the next part of my dressing sequence. First came the wide waist cinch and I cinched this as tight as I could, then slipped into the upper body harness. For the moment I left its front and back halves only loosely joined, but integrated their straps to the waist cinch. I’d finalise its fastening once I wore the wet suit’s helmet with its wide, bottom-of-the-neck skirt tucked under the suit, thus fully-covering and rendering all of the gas mask’s fastenings inaccessible.

I threaded the harness straps for the rigid crotch cup through their D-rings so that the cup hung over my lower belly with the open end of the unit positioned at my crotch, then after I’d lubricated myself with a thick coat of the slippery contact gel, then also the tube’s inner surface and end-electrode ring, I partially-inserted myself into the large-bore, milking machine teat sucker. I’d modified it so that it not only performed the standard, continual, simultaneous suck/squeeze-suck-squeeze cycle action of a regular milking machine, but it now also had the e-stim capability that I want to experience in counter-point and in addition to the constant suckling action. I needed to use a small hand pump to create a partial-vacuum in the teat sucker and that immediately drew most of my penis deeply into the cold, inner rubber liner. Wow! What a sensation! The doubled hoses and electrical cable dangling from its end were potent visual reminders of what was soon to come. After making sure that there was no pinching of any of the tender and very sensitive flesh, the next component I added was the long, thick, bi-polar, brass butt plug and after applying a covering of the slick contact gel to the shaft and the surrounding washer electrode at the base, it slipped easily up into my body.

Reaching under my crotch was difficult, but I got the inner suit’s zipper closed over the end of the plug, then the wet suit’s crotch zipper over that, to leave the e-stim cable emerging between my legs, then passing through the hole for it in the crotch strap. In seconds I’d threaded the strap through its buckle at the central back of the waist cinch, leaving it a little loose for the moment. Next, I pulled the under-the-buttock straps tight so that these drove the butt plug a little deeper, then I adjusted the front mounting straps of the cup so that it was drawn firmly onto my lower belly, over the wet suit and this acted to force my penis more fully and even more deeply into the milker tube. The last strap I tightened was the central back one and it pulled all of the waist and crotch harnessing tightly into place, ensuring that everything remained firmly anchored. At the centre back of the belt, the cable for the butt plug swung freely for the moment, then I routed the two hoses and the e-stim cable for the milker tube back between my legs, forming a loop of an ‘umbilical’, together with it, then with a cable tie, bundled them all together and to the central back ring of the belt.

From this point the hoses and wires of the umbilical had to be connected and this took about 15 minutes. They’d already been bundled together and clipped to short, supporting springs on the ceiling so that I wouldn’t trip on them, nor would I be able to kick them in an attempt to try and interrupt or stop the e-stim or vacuum. First, I reached over my right shoulder and brought the hoses and e-stim cable through the shoulder ring of the upper body harness, then quickly connected them to the vacuum/electrical breast cups’ two hose connections and e-stim cable; securing them with a wrench The left side hose and cable were soon similarly routed, then behind me came the connection of the umbilical to the penis milking unit’s doubled hoses, its e-stim cable and that for the butt plug. I had to manage this by feel alone, but soon they too had been tightened with the wrench and with that done, I made the electrical connections for the ear buds, the heart monitor and the heat sensors. All of these formed a loose, dangling mass behind me and because I like things neat and tidy, at the centre of my back above the belt, I used additional cable ties to make an organised group.

From this point on, things began to get more and more scary. I had to slip the partially-inflated mouth piece of the butterfly gag into my mouth, then pop the holes of its wide mounting and sealing strap onto the helmet’s fastening ‘buttons’. The semi-flaccid body of the pad with its pass-through drinking tube, slipped easily through the helmet’s aperture and nearly filled my mouth. Even though it was not filled to the point that it pressed my tongue down and back into my throat, it did not project far enough back to bring on a retching reflex, but virtually eliminated any kind of coherent speech. Now, I’d reached the point that it was time to put on the gas mask and once I wore it with the head harness straps fully-tightened, Id immediately put on the wet suit’s open-faced, matching helmet.

The gas mask slipped easily over my head, then settled in place over my face, resting lightly for the moment on the slick surface of the more and more oppressive inner helmet. I wriggled it around until the facial portion was as comfortable as possible while wearing the gag and biting down on it, then before tightening any of the head harness straps, I ensured that the reservoir’s drinking tube had projected into the one going through the gag pad. In pairs, I pulled the straps tight and when I tightened the top two, the mask’s soft silicon rubber, widely-flanged, edges around my face pressed into firm contact on the inner rubber helmet, forming an airtight seal. The immediate sense of restriction and the hissing of my breath through the intake and exhaust valves underlined its effectiveness as a bondage accessory, but now it was time to put on the three mm thick, open-faced, wet suit’s helmet. I raised it over my head, then slowly pulled it down; its nylon lining sliding easily over the straps and buckles of the gas mask’s securing harness. With it fully in place there was now no way I could loosen and remove the oppressive gas mask without first taking it off, but there were a couple of more steps to take before removal became impossible. As mentioned, the helmet is designed with a wide ‘skirt’ around the base of its collar and I now tucked that under the edges of the still-opened suit. To complete the encapsulation of my head I grasped the suit’s zipper lanyard and slowly pulled the locking tab to the top of the suit’s high collar at the back of my neck, thus sealing my entire head and body away from the outer world. Now, only my lower arms, and hands remained in contact with the outer air.

Sealed within the helmets and the gas mask, I tried to push the partially-filled with silicone gel bladder aside with my tongue, but it was now no longer possible thanks to the bulk of the pad and the snug, inner facial cup of the gas mask, in combination with the wide strap holding everything against my face. The gag pad could now only be moved back and forth a little, but was impossible to even partially eject it from my mouth and when I attempted to speak, I could only make the smallest, garbled noises. They’d barely be heard, even by someone standing beside me. Unbidden, erotic visions of being kept a prisoner inside something like this for days or weeks flashed across my increasingly fevered mind while I felt the over-all compression and containment, together with my gas mask-restricted vision and the almost total lack of sound. It all made for a unique sensory experience, but now it was time for the remaining parts of my ensemble to be added.

With my completed rubber entombment, it was time to tighten the loose straps of my upper body harness so that everything became snug and even more restrictive. I also had to hook myself up to the suspension rig that consisted of the suspending cable itself, then at its end a large locking hook. From this an inverted V of chain went out to a metre long spreader bar and from the ends of this bar, two sets of 30 kg tension rated, long springs hung in readiness. I clipped the ends of one set of springs to the hip rings of my cinch and the other two to each of the large rings on my shoulders . Once I’d done that and everything was connected to the hook at the end of the cable, I was a doubly leashed prisoner. The overhead cable descended from a pulley on the main beam in the rafters far over my head and thence to the winch. When it was turned on, I’d be pulled high into the air, so that the horseshoe’s on my footwear would be a full five and a half metres above the arena’s floor and there would be no way for me to get myself down.

Although each breath against the encapsulating suits and the harness took a only small effort, just the act of inhaling added considerably to my already intense sensations of enclosure and being controlled and that would increase dramatically when the air hoses were connected. Experimentally, I held my hands over the gas mask’s intake fittings and immediately felt it suck more tightly against my rubber-covered face when I attempted to inhale. Wow! I quickly removed my palms from them and looked with growing trepidation at the long, black, corrugated air hoses that looped across the ceiling and disappeared into the panel to the other room. Inside, they were connected to the PLC, then to the partially water-filled, large bubbler columns, but for the moment I didn’t connect them to my mask. That was going to be one of the last things I did before fitting myself with the hand and wrist restraint system.

It was time to put on my five mm thick, 50 mm wide, stainless steel Axsmar® collar. Over the nape of my neck, the end link of its leash led up to the ceiling ring. Once I locked it closed, I’d have made myself into a total, fully-controlled prisoner, securely locked inside a double, rubber entombment and vulnerable to any of the automated torments that the PLC or Marlene would deliver. This was a huge major decision point because with it in combination with the floor leash, I’ll be absolutely restricted to only a small circle of freedom, although I would be able to reach and sit on the nearby, bolted-down stool. Another fit of trembling anticipation and fear ran through my body, but I continued my preparations with fingers that are becoming more and more palsied. Lifting the steel band to my multiply rubber-tubed neck, I swung the wide collar closed, then used the tiny Allen Key to screw-in the small, yet very strong, top and bottom edge, locking pins located within the collar’s five mm thickness. Once that was done, I tossed the small key towards the wall so that now there was no way for me to release myself from the collar and thus all of the helmets, gas mask, and suits. Marlene would decide when it was time for my release, and for all I knew she might decide to leave me just like I now was for the night and what a scary thought that was!

Table of Contents