Jake R

I have to say that I am not really into technology, and related gadgets. I use a computer for the bare necessities of life in this new age of technological advancement. I recognize the ease and advantage of cell phones, but I still do not own a cell phone; in the few situations when I have borrowed one for an emergency call, I have to rely on the person lending it to me to show me how to use it. My reasons for being a technology idiot are not important, but I readily admit that–despite their usefulness–they make me very uncomfortable. A young friend of mine who shares my enjoyment of bondage with other guys came to my home one day for just such a meeting. Grey was his usual cheerful self when he arrived, and we sat and conversed on our lives since our last meeting. Grey seemed a bit more animated than usual as we talked, and I just chalked it up to his excitement of our pending time together (tying each other up). We both enjoy tying up another guy more than being tied up, but take turns tying up each other out of fairness. After a short time, he asked if I was ready to begin. I nodded, enjoying Grey’s eagerness to start, and commented on his obvious excitement. But then he added, “Jake, I want to try something a bit different today!” I inclined my head to one side as he continued, “I have been in contact with a great guy who lives on the east coast and really enjoys bondage situations with other guys. I have told him about our meetings, and–if it is okay with you–he wants to join us for our meeting today–at least for the first couple of hours. Are you okay with that?” This came as a surprise, but I was totally okay with it. I asked where the guy was, and when he was due to arrive. Grey continued, “Oh, he’s still back east.” “How is he going to join us?” I asked (realizing that Grey and I live in the middle of the great American desert regions in the western United States). “Oh, this is the fun part!” Grey said with a big smile. ‘He is going to join us with his cell phone and on-line using your computer. I hope it is okay with you, but he wants to tell us how to tie each other up, and we just follow his direction." Grey went on to explain how it would all fit together, but he was speaking fast and using technical words that I did not readily understand; it was all above my head in comprehension right from the start. Grey finally ended his dialogue with, “All I have to do is call him on my cell phone and we can start. He’s waiting for my call.” As we moved into the room where my computer is located, I confirmed with Grey that this stranger who would remain a stranger was going to tell us just what to do to each other. And he would be tracking it through the computer and Grey’s cell phone. “Yep,” Grey replied. “Kind of different, but he is quite a dominant guy and it could be fun–and maybe a bit safer than having him here in person. But I did tell him that we don’t have expensive toys and we are just into bondage for the sake of bondage; we don’t move into the realm of sexual things. He is okay with that, but he says the bondage will be more strict and tight since that is the case. It sounds kind of exciting–don’t you think? And we can just disconnect if his demands get too dangerous or out of control.” I had to admit: it was all unusual, but interesting and seemed safe enough. Grey sat down at my computer to set things up while I went into the garage to get our box of bondage supplies. Grey was still thumping away on the computer doing….. whatever….. and had made the call and set his cell phone on speaker when I returned with the box. I was introduced to our east coast friend whose name was Max. Max’ voice was low and had a sinister tone to it that was difficult to describe. But he seemed to be an “okay” guy, as he asked me questions to get better acquainted with me as a person while Grey finished with whatever he was working on. When Grey announced to Max that we were ready, Max began to give instructions in his low, sinister tone. “From this point on, I will do most of the talking. The two of you will only speak if you have a question or when you have completed my last order and are ready to move on. And I expect to see firsthand the progress you are making to ensure you are following my instructions. Grey, you will see to that!!” I was thinking how interesting that Max was taking control of the situation from a distance of a few thousand miles using a speaker phone. It was a new experience for me–for sure. Grey was ready to comply, and a big smile appeared on his face as Max began his instructions. Max’ voice was void of emotion as he spoke–well, there was maybe just a tinge of excitement. “Grey, you will be tying Jake up first.” (The reason for Grey’s smile was made obvious with that remark.) “Find a low back chair with no wheels–one that sits flat on the floor.” “Got it!” Grey did not even try to hide the excitement in his voice as he pulled a wooden chair from the corner and set it in the middle of the room. “Jake, before you sit down on the chair, strip to your underwear and socks. If you are wearing a t-shirt, take it off also. You wear nothing but briefs and socks!” Grey’s smile grew as I followed instructions, then sat down on the chair. “Grey, Jake’s hands are to be tied together behind the back of the chair.” Grey moved quickly as the instructions continued to come. “Tie Jake’s feet together–side by side. Tie his knees together. Find something to use as a blindfold.” A pause followed while Grey followed Max instructions to the letter. “And I want a picture!” Grey did not mention anything about pictures, I thought as he knotted the blindfold in place! “Grey, you didn’t say anything about pictures…..” I protested. “And how can you send Max a picture? Is there……” “Picture sent, Max,” Grey said interrupting my questions. “While I’m checking it out, put a gag on that guy, and make it tight! I specifically said no talking!” I heard a small chuckle from Grey. A wad of cloth was shoved into my mouth, then a roll of cloth was pulled between my teeth–forcing the wad of cloth further back in my mouth as Grey knotted it behind my head. I was confident that my cheeks were bulging! Grey went from a slight chuckle to an outright laugh. “Done!” Grey announced (with a little too much excitement in his voice). Max made a couple of comments before continuing with his instructions. “Picture has arrived. It’s a good thing I am not there in person–I have a thing for hairy chests and would likely do something to Jake that he would not appreciate!” (Audible laugh.) “The chair has a low back–great!! Tie Jake’s arms together at elbow level behind the chair, and pull them as close together as you possibly can in the process. When you are done with that, send another picture!” Grey moved quickly to obey. When he was finished, my arms were not touching, but the absolute discomfort made it evident that they were tied not far apart. Max continued, “Picture received. Good job, Grey! Tweak and pinch those nipples for a few minutes until I hear Jake moan!” It didn’t take long for the moan to surface, but I will admit that Grey did me a huge favor by pinching with one hand and holding the phone closer to my gagged mouth with the other. Max gave a low, loud laugh, then continued. “Take the phone off speaker, Grey,” he said. After a couple of minutes I heard Grey say, “Right away–coming right up!” Grey wrapped rope around my upper legs, effectively tying them to the seat of the chair. He then tied a separate rope to the one he had used to tie my knees, wrapped it around the back of my neck, and pulled me forward in the chair. As my head was pulled lower toward my legs, my arms were pulled up so my forearms were resting on the back of the chair. Grey again knotted the rope behind my neck to the ropes tying my knees, and I was forced to remain leaning forward so that my chin was just a short distance from my bound knees. Grey then tied my arms to the backrest of the chair. There was no way I could sit up straight–I was in a totally helpless bondage situation. “Pictures sent from front, back, and sides,” Grey said with a chuckle, then once again put the phone on speaker. I heard Max’ voice say, “Pictures received!” followed by the familiar low laugh. “Well done, Grey.” (Long pause.) I would like to tell you to pull Jake’s feet back and tie them to the backrest on the chair in a sort of hogtie, but I’m concerned that the chair would tip forward and break Jake’s neck when it falls over! Better to keep his feet flat on the floor." Another laugh followed. “Now, Grey, keep the speaker on and I will tell you when to untie Jake. Oh….and if you want to do something to him while he is tied up like that and helpless, be my guest. Just tell me what you are doing when you do it. I am just enjoying the pictures you sent and wishing I was there in person!” Grey just sat back and enjoyed the sight of me–even though he was there with me in person!! Occasionally he would rise and reach his hand under my torso to pinch my nipples, or tug at my chest hair. Sometimes he rubbed his hand across my shoulders. Once, he even dug his fingers into my sides. He would speak out loud and tell Max what he was doing, but only after he had done it. I could do nothing but endure, and wait for Max to give him the order to untie me. Every so often, I would hear Max laugh, and utter words like: great! wow! good job! It seemed like a few hours had passed while I was tied in that uncomfortable position! Just when the stress on my shoulders and lower back was at its peak, and I was confident that I would be walking bent over that way for the rest of my life, Max’ voice came through the speaker. “Grey, lay Jake’s shirt over his shoulders and send me another picture. I need to make sure you kept him tied up until I told you otherwise. Once you have sent the picture, you can untie Jake. But take your time untying him.” (“Take your time”. Just what I really needed to hear!!) A bundle of cloth was laid on my upper back, and Grey’s voice followed, “Picture sent.” “Picture received. Let me know when you finish untying Jake. I will enjoy these pictures while you untie him. Remember, once he is untied, he gets to tie you up.” With motivation like that, Grey did take his time removing the ropes from me. He started by removing the blindfold (leaving the gag in place). He then untied my arms from the chair back and slowly untied my feet. He removed the rope around my neck so I could at least sit upright once again. He untied my legs form the chair, then untied my knees and assisted me into a standing position. He let me walk around a little to get the cramps out of my legs and back–but he left my hands and elbows tied tightly behind me for another ten minutes or so. Max’ low voice came from the speaker, “Are you finished yet, Grey?” “Almost,” Grey responded. “…..just having a hard time with the hands and elbows!” “Send me a picture!” Max’ voice came through with a hint of excitement. Grey did, and a sinister laugh came from Max. “Nice picture, Grey. You did a great job capturing that hairy chest once again! But that has to be uncomfortable. Finish it up.” Grey’s smile turned into a laugh as he untied my hands. He left my elbows tied while he removed the gag, then slowly untied my elbows. I moved my jaws back and forth and opened my mouth as if giving a huge yawn as Grey announced, “Jake is untied.” As I rubbed my wrists and elbows, Max’ voice was heard. “Jake, it’s your turn to tie Grey up. But first, Grey needs to show you how to take pictures and fire them off to me. Let me know when Grey is finished explaining how to do it. And Grey–do not take a lot of time explaining it or you will suffer later on!” Grey quickly ran me through the procedure. “It’s done,” Grey said. “Jake should now be a whiz at doing it!” “We’ll see soon enough,” Max replied. “Your turn to strip down to your briefs and socks, Grey.” Grey’s smooth, broad chest and moderately hairy legs soon came into view as he followed Max’ instructions. “Done,” he said, with a slight smile. I did notice at that point that Grey had developed a respectable erection underneath his briefs. “Let’s test out the training you gave to Jake,” Max said. “Jake, take a picture of Grey and send it to me.” I used Grey’s cell phone to take a photo of him and did what Grey had shown me a short time before. “Picture sent,” I said, and sarcastically wondered if I should be saluting when I said it. “Nice,” Max’ voice came through. “No chest hair, but very impressive nonetheless.” A slight pause followed, and neither Grey nor I dared to break the silence. “Tie Grey’s hands together behind his back, Jake,” Max ordered. “Then I want two pictures sent: one from the front, and one from the back.” I followed Max’ demands, and the photos were soon on their way. “Pictures sent,” I said. “Quite an impressive view from the front,” Max said, and gave a small laugh. “Grey, I do believe you are enjoying all this a bit too much.” There was a long pause before Max spoke again. “Jake, tie Grey’s feet together while he’s standing there.” I moved the chair that I had been tied to into a corner of the room, and knelt to tie Grey’s feet. No more instructions came forth, so I said, “Done.” The silence continued as Grey and I just looked at each other. Finally, Max spoke again in his low voice, but with a slightly sinister inflection, “Jake, pull Grey’s underwear down to his ankles, and send me another picture from the front.” Grey’s smile faded, and a grimace took its place as I moved behind him and jerked his underwear down his legs. I took the requested picture and sent it. Grey looked at me with a vague expression on his face as I looked at his impressive cock–with his hands tied behind him, there was no chance of hiding his enlarged manhood. We could both hear Max’ chuckling and laughter coming from the cellphone. “Very nice,” he finally said. “Jake, pull Grey’s underwear back up and help him get down on the floor, face down. We need to be moving along.” I pulled Grey’s underwear up as directed, and carefully maneuvered it over his enlarged cock. Grey caught his breath as I slowly rubbed the elastic band of his underwear up the full length of it. (I had to smile–and I do admit that I did it on purpose.) I took him by the arm and pulled back as Grey eased himself down to the floor and rolled into a face down position. “Grey shoulders are too broad for you to tie his arms together like he did to you, Jake, so just tie a rope around his feet and hogtie them to his hands. But don’t leave any slack in the hogtie at all. I want his fingers to be able to touch his heels when you are through. Then take a picture and send it to me.” I did everything that Max instructed, and enjoyed Grey’s discomfort–made more evident by a few moans from him–as I knotted the hogtie rope. “Picture sent,” I said when I was finished. “Very nice,” came the response from Max, and he repeated it a few more times. “Now add a gag just like he did to you. Then send me another picture.” “Picture sent,” I said after following his orders, making sure the cloth gag was just as tight as the one Grey had put on me earlier. There was a long pause interspersed occasionally by the quiet laughter of Max. I just sat down on a chair and enjoyed the sight of Grey, silenced and tightly hogtied on the floor in the middle of the room. I remained silent, and watched as Grey shifted at times or tested the ropes with an occasional struggle. I knew Max would tell me when it was time to set him free, and I will admit that I was enjoying this threesome bondage meeting. About twenty minutes passed before I heard Max’ voice again on the speaker. “Jake, is Grey still hogtied?” ...

For a number of years, near the city where I live, there was a ten-day celebration around mid-summer that celebrated the settlement of the American West. It involved Native Americans, cowboys, gunslingers, a circled wagon train, craftsmen making everything from saddles to brooms, stagecoach rides, panning for gold, and frontier cuisine at the food stands. There was a theatrical presentation each night depicting the history of the West in song and dance. Local singers and dancers rehearsed for weeks in preparation. And there was even a professional dance group from a neighboring city who would come and participate in the presentation each year. Patrons would come from almost every state in the nation, and local schools totally enjoyed the historical nature of the event–even if it was in the middle of summer and school was not in session. I admit, I am a history buff, so I volunteered my time each year (along with dozens of other local people) to make it all happen. Over the years, I worked in food booths, running errands, constructing the frontier street, clean up efforts, taking a part in the production to replace a cast member who had a last minute emergency, and just working wherever I was needed–enjoying every minute of the time spent there. One year, I was given the assignment of cleaning the dressing rooms for the theatrical performers each night. There was one room for the male cast, one for the female cast, and two rooms for the male and female members of the professional dance group. (Over the years, I had gotten to know most of the professional dancers quite well, since many of them returned each year. They were a fun-loving group, and took delight in playing small pranks on the local cast members and each other. It made for some exciting and frustrating situations during rehearsals.) After the performance one night, I waited patiently for the participants to change out of their costumes, then began to clean the dressing rooms. I finished the men’s dressing room, but as usual, there were some stragglers in the women’s dressing room. I noticed the light was off in the men’s dressing room for the professional dancers, and decided to clean that room next. ...

I welcomed the chance to return to San Francisco for a business conference. It had been three years since I had started my current job in another state, and I was looking forward to returning to the city where I had spent two years working for a private corporation following my university graduation. I was traveling alone and had no one with me for the two days that I was there. This came as a surprise, since there were two of us originally scheduled to attend, but a last minute emergency forced my co-worker to have to cancel. My flight arrived at the San Francisco airport and a taxi took me to my hotel quite early in the morning. When I checked in, I told the clerk at the check-in desk that I was alone and would only need a room for one instead of the room with two beds. The convention was being held in the same hotel, and I found that I would have to keep the same room–but they did give me a $20 discount since only one person would be using the room and only one of the beds. I was amazed at how much the city had changed since I had lived in the area! I attended the necessary meetings during the first day, but avoided the convention’s social event in the evening so I could have the time to myself. As usual, I went for a walk. The convention hotel was situated just three blocks from a favorite restaurant that I used to patronize as often as I could – it was a soup and salad, all-you-can-eat restaurant, and the food was delicious. That was the first place I wanted to visit that evening. I found the restaurant–or what was left of it. I later found out that about a month before the convention, the place had burned to the ground; all that remained was a pile of burned timbers and blackened walls. I stood and looked at it for a few minutes, then in a disappointed mood began to walk down the street it had been on. The name was Polk Street and when I had lived near the city a few years before, it had been the street where most of the gay and lesbian couples lived and congregated. I walked for about three blocks, passing several homeless people interspersed among the couples holding hands. These homeless people were a relatively new addition, and were sitting on the sidewalk in front of various businesses asking for handouts. Most of the homeless people were older and seemed quite off-balance and derelict in their dress and demeanor. I found out that there was a renovated homeless shelter not far away, but many of them just seemed to enjoy the adventure of living on the street and refused to go there. One of these homeless people looked in my direction as I passed by and my attention was immediately drawn to him. He was just a young guy, perhaps late twenties. He had light brown hair and brown eyes, and was obviously quite tall even though he was sitting against a wall when I spotted him. He was not bad looking at all, just somewhat scruffy from not having a razor and way too young to be homeless–at least he seemed totally out of place among all the older individuals. He held out his hand as I passed, and for some reason, I stopped to talk to him. Unlike the others, he seemed to be somewhat sophisticated and alert. I asked him how he came to be homeless, and why he had not gone to the nearby shelter. He replied that he had been there often, but people were only allowed to go there four days a week; he had one more day before he could go again. He was looking forward to a shower, he told me, but had to wait until tomorrow night. He just needed some money to buy a couple of meals until then. I told him my first name and explained that I was from out of town and staying at a hotel just a few blocks from there. He was welcome to come back to my room with me and have a shower if he wanted. He gratefully accepted, and I came to the conclusion that he was actually embarrassed for the circumstances that he found himself in and considered it anything but an adventure or a way of meeting people like some of the homeless appeared to accept. He grabbed a small bundle laying on the ground next to him, and as we walked to my hotel, he told me a little about his life to that point. I was not really paying attention to all the specifics, but I do recall that he had two small daughters that he missed greatly. His wife would not let him see her or them until he could find employment and “get his act together”. He was trying, but things did not seem to be working out. He was an actor/model and there just didn’t seem to be any possibilities for employment at the time despite all his attempts to find work. He couldn’t even find a job waiting tables or sweeping floors because of his appearance. He did have more clothes at the homeless shelter, but the bundle he carried was just enough to get him by until he could return there tomorrow night. That is about all I can recall of our conversation, but my heart went out to him for his dire situation. It didn’t surprise me though that he was a model. Despite his scruffy appearance, he looked like one!! As we walked through the hotel lobby, there were quite a number of people who looked at him–some probably marveled at how handsome he was, but most were probably looking at him with with disgust at his appearance.We rode the elevation up and arrived at my hotel room. He was polite enough to refrain from sitting on any chairs or the beds since he said he was too dirty. I gave him a towel and told him to take his time in the shower. He thanked me and disappeared into the bathroom. Time for a small commercial break in this story…… and a brief explanation: I do volunteer work with a number of volunteer organizations where I live, and donate to various charities when I am able. To say that I am a zealous humanitarian would be stretching the imagination somewhat. I do have various vices, and streaks of selfishness, and……. other things. One of my selfish transgressions centers in my enjoyment of bondage with other guys. There are no reservations as to age, physical appearance, occupation, nationality, or anything else–any guy of legal age will work fine in my passion for bondage. But, as can be expected, this interest that I have is not something that is usually brought up in social circles and casual conversations. It requires a fair amount of planning and creativity at times to make it happen and change a fantasy to a reality, which is something I was hoping to do now. But my plot was developing from each passing minute to the next. I was selfishly hoping that somehow, I could maneuver this situation into seeing this homeless model tied up without hating myself after for taking advantage of him. Now……. back to the unfolding story. He took a longer-than-normal shower, and stepped out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He asked me to hand him the small bundle of clothes that he had left on the floor beside the writing table in the room, explaining that they were still slightly dirty, but cleaner than the ones he had taken off. I barely heard him–I was too absorbed in looking at him wearing nothing but a towel (and I should add that I am not gay). Some people just merit a more detailed and prolonged viewing. He was well built, with well-developed chest and leg muscles and his feet were great looking as well. He had a generous amount of chest hair covering his upper body, and I remember thinking that with a great looking body like that, he especially did not deserve the necessity of living on the street. He really deserved to be plastered on billboards and posters for the model that he was! He took his small bundle, asked permission to use my razor (I could only muster a nod with my open-mouthed stare), and disappeared into the bathroom again, only to emerge twenty minutes later: dressed, but still barefoot. He wore short trousers that only went to his knees, and a shirt that only had three buttons near the bottom. Now that he was “cleaner”, he felt comfortable enough to sit on the second bed and we made small talk for a time while I had a perfect view of his bare feet, hairy lower legs, and the upper part of his hairy chest that his shirt did not adequately cover. He seemed to be in deeper thought as we talked, and finally asked if anyone was using the second bed that night. I shook my head, “no”. He swallowed a couple of times, then asked me if it might be possible for him to use it that night. He posed the question in an almost pleading voice, and I thought maybe this could work to my advantage (and his as well), so I cautiously agreed. I explained that it was originally intended to have another convention attendee staying with me, but plans had changed at the last minute. I told him that I had received a discount on the room, but could pay the difference myself so he could sleep in a bed that night. His appreciation was clearly evident. And he was very willing to show his appreciation by what he said next. ‘‘Jake," he said, “I am honest, discreet and you can trust me. If you want any special favors from me, I am willing to do anything that you want.” Then looking directly into my face, he added, “If you want any sexual gratification from me, I would be willing to provide it to repay you. I hope that you aren’t offended by that comment, but I have provided….. gratification for others in that way who have done me a favor. I have even shared a bed with other people–both women and men.” I was surprised by his openness. “That’s not necessary,” I replied. He seemed to give a sigh of relief. Then the creative idea hit me! I had to ‘seize the moment’–even if it might possibly lead to hating myself later. “I hope you won’t mind if I take some precautions though,” I told him. He looked at me with a puzzled look, and I continued. “I need to go the reservation desk and pay the discount back.” He shook his head and mumbled that he was even more puzzled that I felt the need to be so honest. “I hope it makes you realize that I am also honest and you can trust me as well,” I continued. “When I do, I will stop at the hotel drug store for a toothbrush for you, and the hotel restaurant to get some supper for us as well. I will likely be gone for about thirty minutes.This being a hotel and dressed like you are, it might be best for you to wait in the room.” He nodded his understanding and agreement. I continued, “I do trust you, but I hope you don’t mind my precautionary action. While I am gone, you could rob me blind and be gone by the time I get back.” He nodded his head and gave a slight smile. “I wouldn’t do that, but I can understand why you want to be careful. Do you want me to wait in the hall?” “You are cleaner,” I said light heartedly, “but your clothes still brand you as homeless, or at least an unsavory character. You probably should wait here in the room.” He gave me a puzzled look and scratched his forehead. “Have you ever been tied up?” I asked. His eyebrows raised slightly, but then he smiled. “I never have,” he said, “but a couple of the others who have wanted some gratification for doing me a favor have asked me to tie them up, then jack them off or give them a blow job or…… Wait a minute. Are you going to tie me up during the time that you will be gone?” I nodded. He took a deep breath and appeared relaxed. “That will be fine with me, Jake,” he continued, “I understand your concern. We really don’t know each other that well. You don’t even know my name. It’s Cody, by the way.” “Cody,” I repeated, “nice to meet you…. officially. Find a television station that you might enjoy watching while I get some rope from my suitcase.” I was more than excited! A plan to get Cody tied up was moving along nicely! Time for another commercial message: I mentioned before that originally there were two of us who were to attend the conference, but a last minute emergency had caused my coworker to cancel. There may be a question as to why I had rope in my suitcase. With my interest in male bondage, I had hoped to somehow talk my coworker into letting me tie him up. Just how that would come about, I was not sure, but wanted to be prepared if the opportunity should arise. I had just overlooked removing it from my suitcase. The stars must have been alligned in my favor! Now back to the story: “Why do you have rope in your suitcase?” Cody asked me. “I was going to be prepared for a possible demonstration of something during the convention… with my coworker,” I replied in a sort of half truth. Cody smiled and took the television remote, then began flipping channels to find an interesting one. When he had selected one, he looked at me. “Can I lay on the bed while I am tied up?” I nodded. “Do you mind if I take off my shirt?” he asked. “That would be fine,” I replied, thinking that there were only three buttons holding it on and two of them looked like they were ready to pop off at any time. He smiled and removed the remnants of his shirt, then moved to the center of the bed laying on his back. It appeared that he thought I was going to tie his hands and feet to the four corners of the bed. “Cody, roll over onto your stomach,” I said. He looked at me with a puzzled expression, then did it. I kneeled on the bed beside him and pulled his hands behind his back. He looked up at me again. “Tying my hands together like this might make it easier for me to untie myself,” he said in a lighthearted way. I smiled at him, “I will take that chance.” I crossed his wrists behind him and tied them together. I moved to his bare feet and tied them together, side by side. I took a third rope and hogtied him, then stood up off the bed. The ropes were somewhat tight, and cinched with cross ties, and I had tied the knots out of his reach. He tested the ropes then smiled back at me. “I am pretty sure I will be here when you get back.” I looked into my wallet to make sure I had what I needed while he squirmed into position so he could watch the television. When I left, he was laying on his side with his hands and feet hogtied together behind him, watching the television. I went to the restaurant and placed an order, then while it was being prepared I went to the drugstore for a toothbrush and some toiletries, then the check-in counter to pay back the discount. The clerk asked no questions as to why, and I didn’t volunteer any reason. I picked up the food from the restaurant and returned to my room. As I rode the elevator up, I realized that I did not really know the young, homeless model laying hogtied in my hotel room. I also wondered what sort of idiot I was to do something like this–after all, I had only found out his name less than an hour ago! I unlocked the door and slipped into the room. Cody looked at the door, smiled at me, then looked back at the television. He had not moved from his hogtied position, laying on his side, since I left, but I was confident that there was an erection that had formed and the front of his pants were showing a definite wet spot. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the television show, or the fact that he was tied up. I set the food down on the writing desk in the room, and moved to the bed to untie him. He rolled onto his stomach so I could get to the knots more easily, and I slowly untied his hands and feet. I told him that we could both watch the television as we ate. He was deeply engrossed in a movie, and I gathered up the plates and napkins after we finsihed eating. “I can do that,” he volunteered. “Cody, you are an actor and need to focus on your profession–keep watching the movie!” He gave me a big smile and settled back into the propped up pillows on his bed. I looked at him a lot as I cleaned up, enjoying the sight of his “model” hairy chest and legs and bare feet, and remembering how he had looked while hogtied on the bed. When the movie ended, it was about 10:00 p.m. “It is 11:00 p.m.Mountain Standard Time,” I apologized, “and I have meetings tomorrow.” We pulled the bedspreads from our beds, and he also pulled the top sheet down. He kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and finally sat down on the edge of his bed. I looked at him directly, and he swallowed a couple of times before he spoke. “Jake,” he began, “thanks so much for helping me out like you are doing tonight.” I shrugged it off, “I really enjoy your company, Cody. I honestly do.” “Do you intend to tie me up tonight while we sleep? After all….,” he pointed out with a smile, and even added a wink, “I could very easily ‘rob you blind’ and leave while you are asleep.” I smiled back. Somehow I got the impression that he had enjoyed being tied up. I asked him outright. This time he shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the floor, then looked up at me and smiled again as he said, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad, and sort of fun.” I had a hard time keeping my excitement hidden, but I think I was somewhat successful. I just smiled back and said, “Well, I think it would be a good idea–you know–the precaution thing?” With that, he swallowed again and I knew another question was coming. In a softer voice, he said, “If I am able to sleep in a bed–and not at the homeless center–I do like to sleep in the nude. Is that offensive to you?” I should have been sitting down, because my knees went sort of weak! In a voice that I hoped wasn’t completely evident of my excitement, I told him, “No, I am not offended by that.” He smiled again and removed his pants. I did sit down this time!! I had not seen his entire naked body before now–he had been wrapped in the towel before. All I can say is: he looked awesome. It may have been jealousy on my part, more likely awe, but I almost wished that I was gay! I got my ropes from the floor where I had tossed them when I untied him before supper, and he lay down on his bed. “How are you planning to tie me this time?” “Move to the center of the bed and lay on your back,” I told him. He did, and I tied his hands and feet to the four corners of the bed in a spread position. I wanted to make sure he would be comfortable enough to get some sleep. When I finished, he looked fantastic!! His arms and legs were stretched out, and his entire “model” body was fully exposed: hairy chest and armpits and legs, bare feet that were soft and flawless, and the final icing on the cake being an erection that pointed to the ceiling like a flagpole and was beginning to leak before the knots had been completely tied! He did not want any covering from the top sheet, he just wanted to lay on the mattress and bottom sheet. I undressed and climbed between my sheets, then went to sleep laying on my side as I just stared at the scene in front of my eyes. I couldn’t take my eyes off his flagpole, and wondered how it could be so long and tall!! Small wonder that he didn’t want the top sheet rubbing against it or making contact in any way! I am usually a sound sleeper who can sleep through an earthquake, volcanic eruption, and tsunami combined, but I did not sleep well that night. The sight before me would not allow it! At one point I dozed, but woke up and opened my eyes when I heard some low moaning coming from the bed next to mine. Cody was somewhat restless and was looking my direction when I opened my eyes. He seemed to be in distress, and apologetically told me that he had to go relieve himself in the worst way. I jumped out of bed, and quickly untied him. I untied one hand first and he used it to untie his other hand while I untied his feet. He bolted from the bed when he was free and hurried into the bathroom. While I gathered up the ropes and after a few minutes, I heard the water running in the sink, and he emerged from the bathroom, looking like an embarrassed schoolboy. He sat on his bed, and we talked for a couple of minutes. I apologized for putting him in that situation, and he did his best to let me know he was okay. He slid up into the center of his bed and politely reminded me that I needed my sleep–announcing that he was ready to be tied up once again and he should be okay now for the rest of the night. I was ready to tell him that he did not need to be tied up again, but before I could speak, he asked me if I could do him a favor. “Jake,” he said,“could you hogtie me the same way that you did earlier when you left me alone in the room? I am sort of cramped from being spread like I was, and I had to stay in one position and could not move at all. I think I could move around a little more in a hogtie.” As he was speaking about being tied up again, I noticed that his erection was starting to return. For some reason, I thought he must be enjoying himself more being tied up–and who was I to spoil his good time? I nodded, and he gave me a grateful smile. I also thought I noticed a twinkle in his eye–but I’m not sure. He moved to the center of his bed and lay on his stomach, placing his hands behind him just above his round butt cheeks. I crossed his wrists and tied them together. I then tied his feet together, side and side, and hogtied his feet to his hands–but not too tightly. He looked up at me. “Could you tie my hands and feet a little closer together–please?” he asked. I did as he requested, and left less than a foot of slack between his hands and feet. I rolled him onto his side so he was facing my bed and noticed that his erection had definitely returned in full glory, and he was getting a little moist on the end of his long flagpole. He looked at me and by now, I guess he figured he could comfortably ask me anything. “Jake, are you gay?” he asked, and I shook my head. He gave a sigh and looked straight ahead. “Cody, do you want me to help you reach a climax?” I asked. He looked at me again in a pleading sort of way, and said, “Would you please?” He rolled as far onto his back as the hogtie would allow, and I began to stroke and tickle his cock with my fingers. He pulled his shoulders back and pushed his genitals out as far as he could to help me out, closed his eyes and tried not to make much sound. In that, he was not successful. I stroked and tickled with one hand, and rubbed his hairy chest and tweaked his brown, quarter-size nipples till they stood up like two panic buttons with my other hand. It didn’t take long before he shot a large stream! I was again in awe at how much cum he had and how easily it came– realizing how recent his trip to the bathroom had been! He rolled back to lay on his side with his eyes closed and a large smile on his face, breathing deeply while I got a couple of wet washcloths from the bathroom and cleaned up his cum from the bed and floor and even my leg. When I returned to my bed after washing my hands, he looked my direction. He was still tightly hogtied, laying on his side with his large cut flagpole sticking out, twitching once in a while, and looking like it was still maintaining an excited erection. “Thanks so much, Jake,” he said. “I have not been able to do that for such a long time. I can’t play with myself or masturbate in the homeless center–the rules are so strict and I could lose any chance to stay there again. I can’t do it on the street when I have to sleep there since the other homeless people are always close and some never sleep. It’s been a long time. It’s great to be on the receiving end and not servicing someone else.” he commented. I asked him if he wanted to be untied, and he told me “no”. He closed his eyes and was asleep within a few minutes. I stayed awake for a while and just enjoyed the sight of his nude, hogtied body. I didn’t sleep much the rest of the night, and wished that this was not my last night in The City. The next morning, I asked him if he wanted to be untied before I went to the restaurant to get some breakfast for us. He had slept through my morning shower and shave. I had untied the hogtie rope while I dressed, but left his hands and feet tied. This gave him a few minutes to stretch his arms and legs a little. He smiled at me as he rolled onto his stomach and again told me “no”. As I put the room key in my pocket and moved toward the door, he called me back. “Jake, could you put me into a hogtie again, and make it a little tighter?” I couldn’t believe he was making a request like that! I carried it a little further and tied a rope around his elbows–but could not pull them close to each other because of his well-developed upper torso. There was another big smile on his face as I tied a rope to his feet and pulled them up as far as I could to tie them to the rope tying his elbows. In fact, his feet were pulled up a few inches higher on his back than where his tied hands rested on his butt cheeks. He was tied too tightly to leave alone, and I asked him if he would be okay for about twenty minutes. He answered, “Oh yes,” with a big smile. The hotel breakfast was a buffet type, so I filled two plates and took them up to my room. I was uncomfortable leaving Cody tied up as he was for very long. When I arrived at my room, he had shifted somewhat on the bed, but was still as tightly hogtied as when I left him. The smile had not disappeared either. I untied him and he disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared a bit later, and ate his breakfast in the nude–again after confirming with me that it was not offensive to me. As I cleaned up the disposable dishes, he put on his short pants and shirt, and slipped into his battered gym shoes. The rope marks on his elbows, wrists and ankles had virtually disappeared during breakfast. He shook my hand at the door of my room, thanked me and told me he could find his way out of the hotel–he didn’t want me to be embarrassed by being seen in his company. I told him that was not the case at all, and thanked him for allowing me to help him out in some small way. He just shook his head again at my response and smiled as he looked at the floor. I told him to wait a minute and pulled my wallet out of my pocket. I gave him a $50 and $20 dollar bill (not much I know, but remember this was back in the 1980’s when things were a lot cheaper) and told him to use it to buy him some good clothes that might help him move off the street. He shook my hand again and walked toward the elevator. I have wondered since: did he ever find a good job? Did he ever reunite with his wife and two daughters? My vivid imagination caused me to wonder if, in reality, he was a magazine writer who was doing a story on the homeless…. firsthand? Maybe he was better actor than he was letting me think? Or maybe a multi-millionaire who was just seeing how other people survive? Lots of questions have caused me to think about this experience and I have no answers. All I know is that I had the opportunity to tie up a handsome guy who was the epitimy of a male model, and I had a great time! And I think he did too! For the record, I slept through most of my convention meetings that day, and enjoyed a good nap on the flight home later that evening. With the memories I had–it was worth it!! ...

I hope that my interest in bondage with other guys is known only to me (and the guys that I meet with). It would be so great to be able to be totally open about it, but I am confident that a lot of people would be appalled and judgmental. So, I will have to wait for that momentous day when bondage somehow becomes an Olympic event. Until then, I will fantasize, and turn as many fantasies into reality as possible. For the most part, the guys that I am able to tie up are straight (as am I) or in the closet about their sexuality. But Jeremy was openly gay, worked in the same departmental office that provided my employment, and was a great guy with a very friendly personality. I really enjoyed working with him. Maybe–because he was so easy to get along with–at slow times during a workday, I would fantasize about tying Jeremy up. Jeremy was a young man who completed one year of college after high school, then decided that a college degree was not in his future. He went immediately into the work force, and was hired by the same company for which I was working at that time in my life. He was a good worker, but had a tendency to get frustrated when deadlines and workloads were not to his liking. He was about 5'8", small in stature with hair so blond that it almost looked bleached, and a fantastic sense of humor. He openly and often spoke about his roommate, who was like wise gay and also his boyfriend. Not too many people in the department took an interest, but I provided a listening ear quite often. It was sort of necessary because other times that Jeremy expressed frustrations at work was when he and his boyfriend were not getting along for some reason. Jeremy and I were alone in the office one day. All the other employees had gone to a business social that would take up the entire afternoon, but I had volunteered to remain at the office to answer phones and deal with emergencies that might arise. When I volunteered to stay behind, Jeremy also volunteered to stay with me. It was a big mistake for both of us: the day was extremely slow and we were both fighting an overdose of boredom. Jeremy had taken up residence at the front desk, and I had gravitated to the side chair next to his desk. Out of the blue, Jeremy looked at me and asked, “Jake, does my sexual orientation bother you at all?” “Not at all,” I told him, and I honestly meant it. Jeremy then launched into a one-sided conversation about his boyfriend, and how they had different interests in a number of things, how frustrating that was for him, and then forged ahead with a few examples. I knew that he would eventually have to stop rambling in order to breathe regularly for a while, so I just listened and added an occasional nod of my head or a supportive “yeah” until that moment arrived. When he finally paused, I told him that things like that happened to every couple–whether married or just living together–and it can take years to get used to another person sharing your space. Jeremy looked at me, and agreed, then added, “I just wish we were more compatible!” “What sort of things do you enjoy together?” I asked him. Jeremy closed his eyes and proceeded to name off a sizeable list, including some things that were pretty graphic and explicit. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he apologized, adding that if saying things like that were offensive or embarrassing to me, he was doubly sorry. I told him that I was not offended, and appreciated the fact that he felt comfortable enough with me to say what was on his mind. Jeremy took a deep breath and gazed off into space for a while. As he sat and gazed out the window for a time, I just looked at Jeremy. It had never really crossed my mind, but Jeremy was a good-looking young man. His nose was a centimeter too big, but on some people that adds to their good looks, and such was the case with Jeremy. The continuing silence caused me to fantasize about what Jeremy would look like… if he were tied up. It’s interesting how a person can work with someone for months and something like that subtly enters his mind on occasion, then suddenly it hits with full force and a determination. Well… at least it did with me! Jeremy began to speak again, and elaborated more on a couple of things for which they did not share a common interest. It was now or never! “Have you ever tried bondage together,” I suddenly interrupted with a louder tone. Jeremy stopped in mid-sentence and looked my direction with big eyes. I shrugged my shoulder and gave a “village simpleton” expression. Jeremy’s face turned bright red, and he gave a nervous laugh as he said, “Well, that really is a personal matter.” That remark caught me off guard–considering the graphic things he had mentioned a short time ago that seemed to me to be much more personal. He gave another small laugh and shifted in his chair. “Jeremy,” I finally said, “I’m sorry to be so outspoken, but why does that subject get such a different reaction from you as compared with all the other things you have mentioned? Does it embarrass you for some reason?” Jeremy’s face returned to its natural color and he took a deep breath. “Jake,” he said in a whisper, as though there were a room full of people around us, “I have always wanted to try bondage, but it is so embarrassing to bring the subject up with my boyfriend. I have wondered if he would like to try it, but feels as embarrassed as I do at being the first to bring it up.” “Jeremy, I am not a therapist by any stretch of the imagination,” I said, “but I may know of a way to bring the subject up. But first, tell me this. Do you think about being tied up by your boyfriend or do you think if would be more fun to tie him up?” “Actually,” Jeremy replied, “I would prefer to be the one tied up.” Yes–I was hitting pay dirt! I tried to control my excitement as I told Jeremy, “Suppose you were to leave some pictures of you tied up somewhere in your apartment? Leave them in a spot where your boyfriend will find them and see what his reaction is.” Jeremy seemed to be in a stupor of thought for a short time, then he looked at me and put his hands together in a sort of supplication gesture. “Jake, would you do me a favor?” he asked. “Depends…..” I replied nonchalantly, with a shrug of my shoulders. “What do you want me to do?” Jeremy took a deep breath, “Would you tie me up and take some pictures of me like that?” My excitement was trying to pull me from my chair and raise my arms in a ’touchdown’ gesture, but I remained calm as I agreed to do it. “We have the office to ourselves right now. We’re alone. It’s not busy. There’s an instamatic camera in the lower drawer of the desk you are sitting at. And we can use the conference room in back for privacy in the remote possibility that a client comes in,” I told him. “We just need some rope.” Jeremy clapped his hands, then leaped to his feet with a big smile and disappeared into the janitorial closet, emerging a short time later with a few coils of soft, white rope. “I saw this the other day when I was looking for things to sweep up with after that flower pot in the corner was knocked over,” he said in an animated voice. “…not sure why it was there, but I didn’t question that it would come in handy someday for something!” Jeremy led the way into the conference room, turned on the light and moved to the front corner where he literally swayed from one foot to the other and rubbed his hands together in excitement. His actions and smile spoke for him. In addition to his smile, I noted that Jeremy was also wearing a yellow dress shirt and black tie with thin gold stripes. His dress pants were black as were his dress socks and wing-tip shoes. I asked if he had any preference as to how he was tied up, and he shook his head. I told him to take off his shoes and move a chair into the open space in front of the whiteboard. He grabbed a chair and sat down, then leaned forward to remove his shoes. I moved to the back of the chair, and watched as Jeremy moved his arms around the sides of the chair back and behind the chair. Unfortunately, the chair back was too wide, and his hands were about two feet apart. I did note that the back of the chair was not very high, so I told him to lean back as far as he could and lift his arms over the back of the chair. That was not a problem; Jeremy lifted his arms over the chair back which caused his shoulders to be pulled back slightly, but was not too uncomfortable. ...

I have always liked door-to-door salesmen. That form of salesmanship has diminished and almost disappeared in our society today, but there are still some companies that utilize that method of selling products. I was sitting at home one day during the weekend, thinking of an assignment that had been given to me by my boss. A young intern in our office (his name was Benjamin) was going to be having a farewell party soon; he was leaving the company after accepting a permanent job, and the boss wanted me to be in charge of a “roast” in Benjamin’s honor. “You know what a roast is….. don’t you Jake?” my boss had asked me. “I think I do,” I replied. “Isn’t it sort of like a good natured, light-hearted bundle of jokes–whether true or false– that are told about a person?” “Right!” the boss had said nodding his head. “You can think of all the strange things that Benjamin has said, or the weird things he has done, or his unusual hobbies, or what he talks about doing in his spare time and make an enjoyable show at his embarrassment. But it’s all in fun! And since Benjamin was working with you the majority of the time while he was here, you probably know more about him than anyone else. You will do a great job putting something together!” He emphasized his point by giving me a big smile and a hard slap on the back before making a hasty exit from my office. (Is it any wonder that “boss” spelled backward is “double s.o.b.?) So now, here I was sitting in my living room straining my brain trying to remember anything and everything that Ben had said or demonstrated or shared with me that could be exaggerated into good “roast” material. While I was lost in thought, a movement outside my window caught my attention. A young man was walking up to my front door at a brisk pace carrying a small briefcase. From my vantage point, he looked exactly like Benjamin. What a stroke of luck! Maybe I could chat with him in person for a few minutes, and get some information from him that would be useful. I didn’t think to question why Benjamin would be visiting me at my home. The doorbell rang, but I was at the door before it had even finished sounding his approach. I pulled the door open–more quickly than intended, which startled the young man and caused him to take a step back. My excitement faded, and I tried not to show my disappointment. The young man at my door had the same brown hair, solid frame, and facial features as Benjamin, but up close, I realized that he was not the guy I had been working with for the past several months. In all honesty, he could have been Benjamin’s brother–the resemblance was amazing! The young man stepped forward and stretched out his hand in greeting. I took his hand and tried to hide my disappointment and concentrate my thoughts on what he was saying. He smiled broadly as he spoke in a very polite manner. “My name is Troy. I am a student at CSC and am traveling in your neighborhood today to introduce you to something that I feel every home needs. I am working my way through college by doing this, and would really appreciate the opportunity to tell you about our product. May I take a few moments of your time right now? By the look on your face, I may have caught you at a bad time though.” I put my concentration on the young man in front of me, and gave him a smile in return. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I just thought that you were someone else. It’s amazing how much you look like him!” Troy’s smile grew even more. “Wow!” he replied. “If you think I look like another guy, he would have to be a very handsome fellow indeed!” That remark caused me to laugh; I took an instant liking to this guy and invited him in. “I’m Jake,” I told him as I took him around the corner into my living room and pointed to a comfortable chair. Troy had stopped at the door, and was removing his shoes. “It’s company policy, Jake” he told me. “It’s not a good first impression if I get your carpet dirty.” He walked into the living room and sat in the chair I had pointed out. For the next twenty minutes Troy demonstrated his product, and it was indeed something that every house would likely need. With his politeness and enthusiasm, I knew early on that I would be one of Troy’s customers. During his presentation, I kept looking at him closely. Though his nose was slightly smaller, and his jaw a little more square, he had a definite resemblance to Benjamin–who was monopolizing my thoughts lately. Troy stood once to show me a closer look at a statement in his flip chart, and as he returned to his chair, it was definitely obvious: from the back, Troy looked exactly the same as Benjamin. I excused myself and left the room, as Troy waited patiently. I needed to think about something, maybe formulate a plan, but not while Troy was talking to me. I could not afford any distractions while I was thinking. My mind was thinking back to something Benjamin had told me. He had his eye on a young secretary in our office, and had finally mastered the courage to ask Gina out on a date. Benjamin had shared his interest in Gina with me as we had worked together, and though I kept it quiet, other people that he shared this secret with did not. It was soon a hot topic for the office grapevine. I sometimes wondered if Gina had felt compelled to accept the invitation because of all the gossip circulating through the office. ...

Ordinarily, I am a person who is slow to anger–but sometimes, with what I consider just cause, I do lose control of my temper. And after the few times when that has happened, I have a tendency to seek the opportunity for revenge. Nothing extreme really, but just the opportunity for a little humiliation. I had recently graduated after four years at a university, and accepted a position with a large corporation on the west coast. Moving there involved a two-day drive, then sufficient time to secure living arrangements, but I was fortunate and things came together at a remarkable pace. I found the perfect location about a 45-minute drive from the city center and contracted to live in an apartment complex that surrounded a fairly large courtyard–with a swimming pool, no less. There were two levels to the complex, and I resided in the lower level so that my front door opened into the gated courtyard. The apartment directly above me was accessed by stairs leading up from the courtyard to a walkway balcony. The residents were very friendly and accommodating, and I quickly made friends with most of those living in the surrounding apartment units: some were single like myself, some married, some living together outside of marriage, and a few same gender couples as well. Several months later, I received a telephone call from a good friend that I had left behind at home. He had a friend, who had a friend, who had a brother that was recently married and was moving to the same area of California where I was living. He had given this young man my address and told him to look me up when he arrived, and I would be more than happy to guide his hand and help him get settled. I don’t mind helping out in situations like that and enjoy meeting new people, so I really looked forward to meeting the young newlywed. Besides, I was informed that he was an honest, respectable guy and a great person. Just a few days earlier, I had helped the gay couple in the apartment above me to move out of their unit necessitated by a change of employment. I knew that the apartment was available, and made a visit to the apartment manager. I informed the landlord that I might have new occupants for the unit above me if she was interested in filling it quickly. She enthusiastically told me to have this young couple visit with her when they arrived. The next day on a Friday evening after I had returned from work, a knock came at my door. It was the young man who had been given my address and was moving to the area. Derek was his name. He was alone and when I asked, he informed me that he had driven the rental truck containing their meager furniture and household items, and his new wife was driving their car. She would be arriving tomorrow in the late afternoon since she had detoured into a neighboring state to visit with her sister for a time. I invited Derek into my apartment and told him to get comfortable. He was obviously tired from a long drive, and I invited him to join me for supper and spend the night in my apartment–an invitation he readily accepted and seemed very relieved. Derek seemed like a nice guy. I informed him that there was an apartment right above my own, and that if he might be interested, he could visit with the landlord while I prepared a light supper for us. He asked me some questions about rent and the neighbors, then realizing it was a great opportunity, excused himself and headed for the landlord’s unit to talk with her. As I threw a quick supper together, I wondered how he would be as a neighbor. He was definitely friendly and outgoing, and seemed to be quite ambitious. He was about my height, light brown hair, not muscular–but not thin–just a somewhat lanky, average build. He wore glasses most of the time which gave him a studious look (he probably knew a lot about a lot of things). He had shown me a picture of his new wife and she seemed to be a little plump, but with a pretty face and beautiful eyes. They seemed like a nice couple. ...

Several years ago I became acquainted with a military guy who had moved into the area where I live. He was to be here for about four years working with the recruiting unit of the ROTC program at a nearby university. For whatever reason, at least back then, the military did not keep them in any area for long periods of time–just why, I am not sure and he never told me. Drake was his name, and he was a typical soldier–slightly older than most at the ripe old age of thirty-five. He had blond hair cut in a short buzz style, a typical military build, but with a boyish face that looked younger than his years. He was very outgoing and friendly, part of his recruiting responsibilities, no doubt. I do not remember the circumstances of our meeting, but we became good friends. He was not aware of my interest in bondage with other guys and the enjoyment that I have when I am able to tie another guy up and take control of him. From the day we met, I had zeroed in on Drake and hoped that sometime I could make him my captive without destroying our friendship. I volunteered to run an errand one day for the office where I work, and decided to take an extended lunch to ensure that I had time. I was waiting for a job to be completed at the printing shop, and found myself near the building where Drake hung his work hat. I knew that Drake usually spent his lunch break at his desk, and just stopped in for a quick visit. As usual, I found Drake sitting at his desk in his causal, short-sleeved military dress shirt, which even included a black tie, and even during my social visit he was sitting almost at attention with his back straight, but not touching the back of his chair. I lounged in the comfortable chair in front of his desk, and in the course of our conversation, asked him a few things about his military training and background. I asked him what sort of classes the students he recruited would be taking and things they would learn. He was in a talking mood, and welcomed my interest in what he did. At one point I asked Drake if the students received instruction on what to do if they were taken captive and had to endure a period of time as a prisoner of war. He told me that very little was discussed about that in the classes offered, but he had received some instruction in that, mainly so he could address a question with a correct answer. ...

I would first like to confirm that I enjoy the company of women. They can be so soft, charming, intelligent, sensitive, and yet reduce a guy to the status of bumbling idiot with just a flutter of their eyelashes. I suppose that my respect for the opposite sex has removed from my mind any desire to engage in bondage with a member of the female gender. But men are another matter. Strange as it may seem, I find great excitement in sharing bondage adventures with other guys. In my crazy teenage years, I shared tie-up adventures with male friends and cousins that left me with a great enjoyment for male bondage. After one experience with a cousin my same age, I have always enjoyed the sensation of seeing another guy tied up, and made helpless and vulnerable. Sexual gratification was never intentionally a part of the tie-up games, but as we got older, sometimes the surge of excitement would lead to involuntary things happening that would fall into that category. We just overlooked it, and gradually got over any feelings of embarrassment or concern if it happened. In later years, while watching movies of guys tied up, gagged, blindfolded, or being placed in some bondage situation, I would squirm in my seat and feel the need to adjust my trousers much of the time. Though attempting to be discreet in the process, it sometimes proved embarrassing during my dating and courtship years. As we finished our formal education and began our professional careers, my friends and I all moved our separate ways. Though we kept in touch, the tie-up games we enjoyed became few and scattered–or discontinued altogether. But then the age of computers erupted into a whole new world of bondage “sites”, and I have become a steady visitor. It was on a male bondage site that I met a young man who seems to mirror my interest in bondage with other guys. We got acquainted online, shared ideas, and since we only lived a half hour drive from each other, decided to meet. Grey and I hit it off immediately, and even now continue to meet as often as we can to share ideas and bondage adventures with each other. We have developed a great friendship, including respect and trust. I am pretty sure that Grey is not gay–not that it matters at all. We just enjoy each other’s company and creativity in the sport of tying each other up. ...