The Punishment Suit | free chain and leather straitjacket story

PART ONE

A big, beefy guard, in breeches and knee-high boots came up to me, and got close, so close I already started to worry.

"I don't loke the way you looked at me back there," he growled through his moustache.

"I wasn't looking at you any way," I protested, and started to take a step back.

He grabbed my upper arms in his fat hands and squeezed them hard.

"Oh, a smartass, huh? Hey, Mike, gimme a hand with this one," he called to another guard, just as big, but clean shaven. Mike came up behind me a got me in a full-nelson headlock.

I panicked, and tried to kick the first one as he stepped back. All I did was stub my bare toes on the thick leather leg of his tall boot.

"So ya wanna play rough, huh? O.K., we can handle that. Yo, Tom, c'mere and bring the suit. We got a guy with an attitude problem."

"Right there, Joe," answered a third guard. Mike still had me trapped with my head bent down looking at the floor, but I could see another pair of boots and breeches approach, and a hand carrying some bundles of canvas and dangling straps. By now I was squirming and fighting as hard as I could, flailing with my arms and legs. It was no good. Mike had me for keeps.Joe reached over from the side and pulled down the front of my pants with one hand. With his other hand he grabbed my cock and balls and gave them a firm squeeze.

"If ya wanna keep these, hold still!" he yelled. I froze but stayed rigid in Mike's armlock, my whole body tense.

"That's better," said Joe as he pulled my pants and underwear the rest of the way off. I was naked from the waist down.

"O.K., Tom, let's get him dressed in his new outfit," Joe said with a nasty grin. He wrapped his arms around both my bare legs together and lifted my feet off the floor. Tom unrolled one of the bundles of canvas. It turned out to be a long bag of canvas which he pulled up over my feet, legs, and hips. It was tapered, so the farther he pulled it up, the tighter it got. When it was all the way on, he pulled the waist strap tight and buckled it. As he did so, Joe started fastening the straps around my feet, ankles, calves, and thighs. The leg-bag had already been snug, but Joe gave every strap a vicious yank so my legs were pressed tightly together and I could only move them as a unit.

"Mike, you take one arm and I'll take the other," Joe instructed. As he grasped one arm, Mike let go of my neck and took the other arm.

"Pull his shirt off, Tom," was the next order. I got my first real look at Tom as he pulled my shirt up over my head. He was as tall as the other two, but not as heavy, and he had a black goatee. The others shifted their grips so he could get the shirt off my arms without ever letting me go. Now I was stripped from the waist up, and imprisoned from the waist down.

Tom didn't need any orders as Mike and Joe held my arms straight out in front of me. He picked up another bundle of canvas and shook it out. It was a straitjacket! He slid the sleeves onto my arms until they reached Mike and Joe's hands. Mike and Joe changed their grips so they could hold my arms through the thick, stiff canvas and Tom could pull the straitjacket on over my shoulders and around my back. He started fastening the straps with the high collar and worked down. Each strap was given a hard jerk to tighten it before the buckle was fastened. If Mike and Joe hadn't been holding me up, I'd have been knocked on my ass by the force Tom was using. The straitjacket was encasing my torso tighter and tighter. After he finished with the back straps, Tom fastened the four vertical straps that connected the straitjacket with the leg sheath. Each of these straps was pulled as tight as the others and buckled. To fasten the sleeve straps, Tom held me up by two of the back straps while Joe and Mike each shoved the arm they had been holding through the front and side loops of the straitjacket. Still holding me up, they pushed my elbows together across my chest while Tom pulled the sleeve strap tight across my back. I felt his knee in the small of my back as he hauled the strap through the buckle and fastened it. Now that I was completely helpless, they suddenly let go of me, and I slid to the floor.

"Let me go! Why are you doing this?" I cried as I squirmed back and forth on the cold cement, looking up at them.

"I guess ya still don't know when to be quiet," Joe snarled. "We can shut you up."

He stepped out of my sight for a moment, but soon returned holding another, smaller bundle of canvas. It was about the size and shape of a head.

"Flip him over and pin him, guys," Joe said. Tom and Mike, standing side by side, used the toes of their boots to turn me onto my belly. Then Mike planted one boot on my back while Tom put one of his boots on my ass. Joe jammed the padded canvas hood over my head, instantly blinding me, and pulled the back laces tight. It must have had more straps on it, as I felt more pressure on my eyelids, across my mouth, under my chin, and finally around my neck. By the time he was done, I was not only blindfolded but my mouth was forced shut as well. My only opening was through the nose holes for breathing.

"Well now, he looks like he needs a time out," I could hear Joe chuckle through the hood.

I felt strong arms lifting me, one under each arm and one around my legs. I could feel the slight swaying and hear their bootsteps as they carried some distance along the corridors. Once I could feel them use my feet to push open a swinging door. They seemed to think that was pretty funny. Finally they stopped and I was dumped on my back on the floor. This time it wasn't concrete, but one covered with some kind of thick padding.I felt a boot stepping on my cock with the heel on my balls. It rocked back and forth a few times in a kind of massage."We'll be back later for some real fun," one of them whispered; I couldn't tell who. Then I heard a heavy door clang shut and bootsteps echoing away.

I went nuts with fear and frustration. I rolled over and over, back and forth. I tried to yell, but could only groan and squeal through my nose. I kicked and head-butted. I fought the tight canvas sleeves with all my strength. Mostly I ran into nothing but air or the floor, but once in a while I'd come up against a padded wall. The surprise further disoriented me and set me off in a new frenzy of thrashing around.Finally I was winded and just lay there trying to catch my breath. While I lay there panting, I noticed a few things. One was that my struggles had not only twisted and wrapped the canvas even tighter around my body, but the canvas was now soaked with sweat and almost totally rigid. I also noticed that my cock was harder than it had ever been before....

PART TWO

It was about then that I heard bootsteps outside the door of the padded cell.I could hear the door clang open and then shut, but nothing after that. The padded floor muffled the steps of whoever had come in the cell. I jerked with surprise when I felt the sole of a boot again come down on my hard cock with the heel on my balls.

"I promised you some more fun," he whispered, "and I always keep my promises." As he spoke he rocked the sole of his boot on my cock. I groaned and squirmed. I couldn't help it.

"Seems to me like you like it in there," came the rough whisper. "I have something else you'll like."

His boot disappeared from my crotch. I heard a soft thud and some jingles as something landed on the floor next to me. I guessed the jingles meant more buckles. I felt myself being partly lifted and moved on the floor, so I was stretched out straight and flat on my back. Now I felt some kind of wide, flat ridges crisscrossing under my back. Leather straps?

I got more sure of the leather straps when he sat down astride my legs and started threading something first under my right armpit, then my left. A wide strap was pulled tight around my chest and the buckle clicked shut. More straps were fastened just as tight around my waist, thighs, knees and ankles.

I was too turned on to wonder why. I just kind of floated with it.

A toe of a boot came up under my right bicep and kicked me over onto my belly. I could hear a chain rattle and then heard a metallic snap and felt a nudge between my shoulders. A few seconds later I heard a steady rattle and whir of gears. I felt myself being pulled forward and up. I slid across the padding until my toes left the floor and I was hanging in the air in the grip of the leather straps.

"There you are, all hung up and helpless. I sure like to see that," came the whisper, even rougher than before. " Now I just wanna see you squirm a little."

I jerked hard in the restraints at the first blow of the belt against my thigh. It hurt less through the canvas suit than it would have against bare skin, but it still hurt and startled me. The next blow fell on my arm, then my ass, then my calves. It was never the same place twice so I couldn't brace for the hit. I just jerked and bounced at the end of the chain, squealing and grunting through the heavy canvas hood. Through the slaps of the belt, I could hear him whispering. Now it seemed like he was talking to himself.

"Tied up and helpless...Oh yeah...makin' him squirm...yeah...make the fucker feel that straitjacket suit...uh huh...all tied up...real tight...oh baby...look at him jump..." On and on under his breath.

Suddenly the beating stopped. I felt him wrap his arms around my hips. He grabbed my rock-hard cock through the canvas. He started humping his hard cock against my bound legs. I could feel it through the canvas. A few squeezes from his hand sent me over the edge. I grunted loudly through the hood as my whole body spasmed and I pumped my juice into the thick canvas.

I heard him yell out,"AH! AH! AH! Ooohh! Ooohh! Ungh!" and grip me even tighter. He was still working my cock through the canvas. It felt like burning sandpaper on my tender cock. I couldn't stop coming. I was sobbing and laughing and screaming all at the same time into the canvas hood. After what could have been a minute or a week he let go of me. I hung there, limp, just trying to breathe.

"Okay. Okay. I gotta let you down now," he gasped. A second later I heard a click and dropped to the floor as the chain rattled through the winch. Another nudge and a snap between my shoulders as the chain was unhooked. The cell door clanged open and shut. All I could do was lie there and wait for whatever would happen next, tightly imprisoned in the leather straps and thick canvas of the Punishment Suit.