I was used to the collar which my wife had put on me soon after we were married. No problem, it was just a game and I had to wear it only under specific circumstances. I didn’t know it when we got married but my libido was much higher than hers. She was satisfied with sex once a month, or less. I was up for it - - no pun intended - - three times a week. ...
My girlfriend’s family owns a beach house, a nice little two-bedroom plus other rooms. We had often gone there for a weekend, but this time it was special - - the private beach was clothes-optional for the weekend! Joining us that weekend was her sister Deb; I don’t think Deb thought much of me, and she was not my favorite person, though I tried to hide it. After dinner and a few drinks, we walked along the beach; Cindy was topless - - her tits were small but nicely shaped, and did not bounce with the lack of support. I had on my shorts and Deb, whose body is kind of bulky, favored us all by not wearing anything revealing. I guess the beer loosened my tongue because as we walked along, I made comments such as “look at that pair of fried eggs” and “she should put something on those mosquito bites.” The sisters said nothing, but when we returned to the house and I had taken a leak, Cindy ordered me to lie down on the single bed. We had done some light bondage before, many time she had tied me to the bed and then played with my cock; she could bring me to orgasm that way, but I really wished that she would blow me. “You were a bad boy tonight, insulting some of those girls. You don’t know how hurtful that is. Just like when you had to walk through the locker room when your penis was smaller than the rest of the boys. You need some punishment so you won’t do that again!” Ouch! She was right. I had never told her of this frustration but she might have guessed since my package was not that large. She bought out the leather cuffs and put them on my wrists and ankles and then secured me to the frame of the bed. But rather than play with me, she turned off the lights and went into the next room. And that’s how I spent the night. In the morning, she woke me and released one wrist and handed me a portable urinal to relieve myself. Then she reattached the cuff to the bed and gave me her news. “Im on call this weekend. (She’s a nurse.) And I have to leave. Max will be here later this morning and the two of them can decide what to do with you. I’ll be back in the morning.” Max was Deb’s boyfriend. I had never met him but no good could come of this. I begged Cindy’s forgiveness but she walked out without further comment. An hour later, in walked Deb and Max. Max was a girl! Maxine. And if Deb was butch, Max was even more so. Max was holding a wooden stock which she put under my neck. Then the released one of my hands and put it into place; when I resisted as they put the other one in place, Max grabbed my crotch and started to squeeze. I knew I could not resist and meekly put my other wrist into the space. The two parts of the stocks closed and I heard the click of a padlock. Then they released my ankles and stood me up; there I was with my arms in “surrender” position on either side of my head. “We have plans for you,” said Deb, as she tied a rope onto the ring in the front of the stock. “Let’s go.” They led me down to the water’s edge and the small raft which went with the property. We pushed off and I wondered if they were going to take me out to the big raft in the lake and leave there. As Max paddled, Deb tied floatation devices onto the ends of the stocks. When we got about 100 feet out, Max stopped paddling and they pushed me off into the water. With the wooden stocks and the floatation devices, I floated easily. “We’d better protect him against sunburn.” One of them liberally sprinkled lotion on my head and hands and rubbed it around. “Don’t worry about drifting off into the lake. We are taking the rope and will tie it to the pier, and when we want you back, we will just reel you in like a fish.” I begged them not to leave me but it was no use. In a few minutes, I was alone - - but not for long. Part II - Company Not too long after, two girls swam out to me. They were wearing swim caps and goggles so there was no way to see who they were. “Isn’t he the one who called your titls fried eggs?” “I think it is. Let’s see how big his private parts are.” They dove down and I could feel my shorts being removed. Then they came back up. “You have lots of nerve to talk about small sexual organs. I wonder what we can do to help him.” One of them untied the anchor rope. I pleaded for them not to let me drift out into the lake. No worry. The dove down and I felt my cock and balls being pulled away from my body and then the rope being tied around below my balls. “That ought to help you stretch out when you are pulled back into shore. And so you won’t know who did it, let’s leave these here.” My shorts were pulled over my head and my vision was gone. I head them laugh and swim off. Now I had to get out of there and hope someone on shore would release me. I could propel myself a little by kicking, but it was hard to do more than one or two kicks at a time. After a few times, I felt a sudden pull in my crotch. Damn, I was going to wrong way and the rope had stopped me. Painfully! I tried to flip the shorts off but they were wet and clung to my face. I turned around (or hoped I had) and finally got far enough that my feet touched sand. I walked onto the beach and in my joy, forgot about the rope. Another sudden yank on my crotch, this one more painful because I was moving faster. I thought of traacing it back to the pier but collapsed under the strain of my ordeal. Part Three - That night I woke when Deb and Max brought me back to the house. They left me on the bed, still in stocks, and let me rest. As it was getting dark, they put me in a sitting position and released my wrists, one by one, and cuffed them behind my back. Removing the stock, they tied the rope around my neck and then put a ball gag in my mouth. “No comments from you tonight but others can make theirs about your lack of a package.” And they led me down the beach, naked except for the cuffs, gag, and rope on my neck. We got to a bar with a little fence on the sand side. The fence was about crotch high and I didn’t know what further humiliation was in store for me until Max pulled a dildo from her pocket. They backed me to the fence, and just before we got there, the dildo went into my asshole. Then they used the rope to tie my legs together, with the fence rodss between them. And if that was not enough, the end of the rope tied my wrists to the fence, so I was now pulled backwards, which forced the buttplug farther into my ass. And my crotch was at the end of the fence, not touching it, and very inviting for anyone to play with, And it was played with, but not enough that I could get more than aroused halfway, at which time the touching stopped. What frustration! Part Four - back home They let me sleep in the bed, unsecured. And naked. Deb told me that she would tell Cindy that Max did not make it for the weekend and that she and I just hung around and did nothing special. And who would Cindy believe, me or her sister? I was defeated. Park Five - the new swim suit Cindy arrived later and I just kept quiet. Except that I had no shorts; I had lost them in the lake. And the clothes-optional period was over. So at Deb’s suggestion, we went to buy me a new swim suit. But not what I expected. We stopped at a dancewear store where Cindy asked to see an extra-large tank leotard. I tried it on and the fit was wonderful; snug in the crotch but not too much. Cindy ran her fingernail along my cock, which just showed up as a little bump. “This shiny material and the dark color are perfect to hide your privates. All we need to do is shave your pubic hair.” “I don’t know why you don’t find yourself a real man with a well-developed crotch. This one is pathetic.” “Deb, I told you that I would judge men and you would judge women, and we would not interfere with each other’s choices.” Cindy also looked at a bright red tank, also shiny lycra, and bought that for a special time. I was sure that the color would not hide by bump as well as the black, but I have yet to wear it and find out. The sisters took me a a women’s beauty shop and talked with the girls. One of them took me into a back room where I laid on a table, was doused with shaing cream, and my lower hair was removed. Before I could get dressed, the others came in and haad a good laugh at my now bare crotch. So I am now “leotardguy” at the beach. No worry about losing the swim suit, and I am used to the teasing. And it really does fit nicely! Tom
Going For A Self-Bondage Walk by Leotardguy Going For A Self-Bondage Walk by Leotardguy This is a completely true story. Bondage to me not only felt good but it also could be used as a way of creating the humiliation which I so much craved. (And I haven’t the slightest idea why.) At Halloween I would always find a costume which would mesh the two, most often going as a black cat in leotard and tights, with a collar locked on my neck that also locked the zipper of the leotard. I fondly remember a bunch of girls who were dressed in roller derby costumes who took a look at my collar and exclaimed, “You’re locked in!” I loved it. ...
Trapped & Ready for Torment by Leotardguy Trapped & Ready for Torment by Leotardguy My fetish is a little different from others. It started when my sister was in dance classes and I used to sneak into her room and put on her leotard and tights when I was home alone. I loved the snug feel of the material on my skin! I was ten at the time. Good thing I had not reached puberty or I would have had a problem, as you will see from my future history. When I was in college, I told my girlfriend Susan how great she looked in her exercise outfit when she came over one time en route to an exercise class. I told her my secret but only in the briefest detail to make her think it was a youthful fetish. She suggested that I could stand to shed a few pounds and that I join her in the class. I agreed that I would start the following week. I showed up for class in shorts and t-shirt and was informed by the instructor that the correct, and only, clothing for the class was a leotard and tights; I could see that all the others were dressed that way, in a variety of styles and colors. Knowing that my mindset was already in that direction, even though I had not worn a leotard and tights for a few years - - ever since I grew more than my older sister and could no longer wear hers - - my girlfriend offered to take me shopping. We selected a pair of black tights and a red tank leotard; she had me model them in front of the sales clerk who commented how good I looked in them. One problem was to get my crotch down to the smallest possible size, since it was out in the open. I tried a jockstrap but that bunched it all up. I am not well hung but this made it look like I was. Susan suggested a pair of dance trunks and that seemed to minimize things. But when I showed up for my first class dressed that way, the other women in the class also told me how sexy I looked. Sexy? Well, I couldn’t do any more to “slim down” my crotch. The dance trunks and top layer did keep things in place so there was no bouncing when I did jumping exercises. The workout did me in, and when we went back to Susan’s apartment, I fell asleep on her couch in my leotard and tights. I suddenly awoke to find her stroking the bottom of my balls, and - - you guessed it - - I lost control. She laughed but not too much. After many weeks in the class - - and another trip to the dance store for different outfits - - Susan told me that she could not go to the class that night because she had to fly to California to be near her mother, who had just suffered a stroke. She handed me a new outfit and told me to put it on - - royal blue tights and a black turtleneck leotard. When she was finished zipping me up, I felt her fiddling with the collar and then heard a click. I reached back and found there was a band of leather sewn into the collar of the leotard. One end had a small post which went through the other half of the collar, then through the tab on the leotard’s zipper, and locked with small padlock. “Why did you do that?” “To protect you from the women in the class. Haven’t you seen how they oogle you? I won’t be here when you get back but I will leave the key for you. And I’ll call when I get to California.” Well, Susan was right. When the women in the class saw that she was not there, they paid lots of attention to me. Several suggested that I could go home with them that night. Then one of them behind me saw the padlock! She checked it and announced to the others that I was locked into my leotard and tights. The class started and all I wanted to do was duck out the back door, but that was not possible. After the class, they again surrounded me and one of them announced to me, “I’ve always wanted to touch that nice crotch buried in there.” I tried to stop her but the others held my arms. She stroked my erotic spot, under the balls, and my cock immediately got hard and spit up. No way to hide that! They laughed and teased me, and I ran for the door. I would never be going back there! When Susan called, I told her she was right about the women in the class but I didn’t tell her what had happened. But I did admit to her that I got excited when she clicked that padlock and I realized my situation. She promised that she would do it more often, and not just for exercise class; I told her I was never going back to that bunch of harpies again. As it turned out, this was the last time I talked to her - - she was killed in an automobile accident while rushing her mother to the hospital. I didn’t have Susan any longer but I did have the locking leotard. But that wasn’t really secure; I could easily pull up the leg elastic of the leotard, pull down the waistband of the tights, and take a piss. Then I found the next level of security - - dance trunks, biketard, tights, leotard. But I wanted more, something which would hide the inevitable cum stains. Then I discovered latex briefs; not only did they hide the stains but once they are on and the body sweats a little, they have to be peeled off - - impossible when there are clothes on top of it. From there I graduated one more step, latex briefs with molded butt-plug. And then to the final step, a turtleneck unitard. Now there was no opening at all at the crotch. Absolute security! So what do I do? I put it all on and go shopping, leaving the key at home. I get a haircut, and the female barber always has to ask about the padlock she sees when she puts on the cloth to cover me. I have gone out of town, several hours’ drive away, and before I return I put the outfit on. With the key at home, of course. The butt plug keeps me from shitting (as well as being a constant reminder that it is in me) and the rubber pants keep in any liquid I may let out. Thus, self-bondage with only a locking collar. It’s fun; try it! .