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Sep. 17th, 2010 @ 12:15 am
i'm brought into a small white room and ordered to sit in a chair...i'm wearing tight rubber chaps without pants or a jock, and a collar, no shirt. the trainer is dressed in full rubber, including rubber gloves. i sit down, and he fastens the straps around me: legs, thighs, waist, arms, wrists, stomach, chest. a wooden yoke is attached to the chair, holding my neck and head in place.

"ok boy, you're here for breath control training. we need you to be trained to go without oxygen for as long as possible. the first stage of the training will require a lot of mental strength and stamina. you will be punished for not meeting expectations. you will follow all orders." i nod as much as the restraints allow, not that i have a choice at this point.

"first, we're going to check to see how long you can hold your breath on command. go at least 20 seconds."

"stop breathing." i hold my breath. at first, it's easy, but after a few moments, the desire to breathe overtakes me, and i suck down air.

"only 15 seconds boy. let's try that again." i prepare myself for his command again, but instead, his rubbered hands grab my head, one of them holding me still while the other clamps tightly over my nose and mouth. i struggle, shocked, but he holds my firmly. "stop moving around, punk, you're just going to make it harder on yourself." i try to resist the temptation to fight, but my body craves air. just when i think i'm going to pass out, he lets go, and i suck in air desperately. he holds a plastic mask over my face, giving me pure oxygen.

the mask is too quickly pulled away, and again, he orders me to stop breathing. i make it to 17 seconds this time, but it's still not good enough. he holds my nose and mouth shut again until i make it for the full 20 seconds.

after a few rounds, it becomes clear that i'm just not strong enough yet. "since you're too weak to do even this, we need to bring in some stricter methods of training. you're not going to like it, but it's sure to work." he unstraps me, and it doesn't even occur to me to try and escape. my hands are cuffed behind my back, a leather hood obscures my vision, and i'm led through the facility to another room.

i'm strapped down to an exam table, hooked up to heart monitors, and a heavy rubber mask is strapped tightly over my nose and mouth. the hose of the mask leads to a strange machine that has other wires coming from it...leading to electrode pads that are placed along my inner thighs, abs, and genitals. the trainer puts a small device in my hand: a button of some kind that i can press with my thumb.

"when i turn this machine on, it will suck all the air out of your lungs and the valve will close, preventing you from taking any breath at all. you're to go as long as possible without breathing, and we'll be timing you. you need to log a total of one hour without breathing before we'll let you out of the machine. it'll take as long as it takes for you to get an hour in."

"if you need to breathe, hold down the button. when you do, the electrodes on your abdomen and groin will send shocks to your body, but you will be able to breathe pure oxygen for as long as you want. when you let the button up, the shocks will stop, but so will the oxygen. each time you press it, the shocks will be stronger, so do it only when you really need to breathe. you're not getting out of the machine until you've logged an hour, so we won't let you out of the shocks get too strong for you to take. if you pass out before you've reached your goal, you have to do it again tomorrow for two hours."

"good luck." i hear the click of a switch being flipped, and feel myself forcibly exhaling more air than i even realized my lungs could hold. immediately, i want to hit the oxygen button, but i resist the urge as long as possible. my chest burns and heaves, and finally, i hold down the button. cool air floods my mask, but before i can enjoy it, intense shocks hit my lower body, and i scream into the mask. i suck down oxygen, trying to focus on breathing and ignore the pain in my thighs and genitals, but eventually it becomes too much, and i have to let the button go. again, the air is sucked out of my body, and i struggle in the restraints. how am i ever going to make it that long?

Nov. 13th, 2005 @ 07:37 pm
I come to in some kind of lab, strapped to a rubber-covered table by my ankles and wrists. "Ah, our subject is awake," says a male voice. I turn my head to look at him and he grins evilly. "We can begin the procedure."

"What are you doing with me?" I demand, struggling against my bonds to no avail.

"You are being used as a subject in an experiment to test a patient's threshold for pain in experiencing electro shock therapy. We have discovered that EST can be used as a mind control device, but our purpose requires the patient to be awake to experience the shocks," The doctor says as he prepares me, sticking electrodes to my chest. "These will be used to monitor your vital signs during the experiment, as well as some on your head to monitor your brain activity," he says, adding more to my forehead. I continue to struggle.

Then he appears at my head holding a thick leather strap with larger electrodes on the inside. "This will be used to deliver the shock," he says, strapping it around my head, placing an electrode at each temple. I scream helplessly to be released, but he just laughs. "Don't worry, this won't be difficult for you...all you need to do is lie back and experience the pain. Now open your mouth." He grabs my face in one hand, wrenching open my jaw. With the other, he stuffs a ball gag in my mouth and straps it tight around my head. I scream into the gag to no avail as he laughs more and hooks up the mass of wires attached to my body. The monitors are switched on, and I hear my own brainwaves and heartbeat beeping steadily in the background.

"Because I need you to experience this fully, you won't be given any muscle relaxants. You may find it difficult to breathe during the treatment, but do your best." He flips a switch, and the machine powers up. "Get ready now."

A jolt of electricity surges through my head and I convulse uncontrollably, thrashing against the straps holding me down. In the background, I hear the pulsing of the monitors speed up to the point where I feel I may explode. A choked scream fights its way through the gag, and I fight my muscles to take a breath, but can't.

Suddenly the shock stops and I go limp on the table, struggling to suck down air. The doctor holds an oxygen mask hard against my face and squeezes a bag, pushing air into my lungs. "Did you enjoy that?" he asks. I moan weakly into the gag, and he laughs. He removes the mask, tightens my straps, and delivers another round of shocks, leaving me weaker than the first. I lay there gasping, and he gives me more oxygen. "One last round, boy," he says, pumping air into me.

Again he removes the mask, and turns up the voltage even higher on the machine. The electricity pulses through my head and I convulse wildly, screaming into the gag. Finally, it stops. The doctor holds a mask to my face again and pumps on the bag, but something is different this time. I try to focus my eyes and look at the doctor, but can barely move. "Notice something different?" he says as I begin to notice that I feel slightly drunk. "We're going to put you under for awhile and monitor the after-effects of the treatment. When you come to, there will be a whole new round of shocks, so sleep well." He cranks open the valve on the tank, gives the bag a few more hard squeezes, and everything goes black.

Jun. 26th, 2005 @ 02:25 pm
Time for a brief continuation of yesterday's scenario....

When I come to, my gurney is being pushed down the hallway of some kind of facility. There's an oxygen mask strapped to my face, which is hooked up to a small tank that's laying on my lower body, strapped tightly against my legs so that it presses against my cock under my jeans. The gurney stops at a door, which is opened, and my gurney pushed in. "Ok, boy, welcome to your new home. We're going to unstrap you, so no funny business, or you'll be sorry." The mask comes off, along with the straps. They lift me off the gurney and lay me on a hard bed....I'm inside a small, bare cell. One of the cops addresses me...

"Boy, you're being locked up in this facility to deal with some...issues..that you seem to be having. Your incarceration is indefinite...you'll be here until it gets sorted out with some intensive, er, therapy. The warden will be in shortly to assess your condition...it's in your best interest to just settle the fuck down until he gets here...we'd hate to have to restrain you again. First, though, we need to prep you." I begin to struggle against the straightjacket again as they come toward me. One of them removes the straightjacket from my tosro, and free, I fight them. "Boy, we told you to come easy on this. The warden's going to make it hard enough on you...don't make it worse. You can't handle worse, I guarantee it." He pins my arms hard behind my back, and the other pulls out the syringe again. I scream, but feel the prick of the needle and go limp again. One of them holds me down while the other strips me down to my boxers, then fastens cuffs around my wrists and ankles, and a leather harness with a muzzle around my head. They clip the cuffs to the posts of the bed, leaving me spread-eagled but still struggling and screaming into the muzzle.

"He's not going to shut up...we're going to have to sedate him again. Make a note in his chart that this patient requires heavy sedation at all times, the warden's going to love that," laughs one of the cops as the other hauls another tank into the room. He holds my head hard to the bed while the other straps a small anesthesia mask around my nose, which is free of the muzzle. With a crank on the valve of the tank, everything grows fuzzier and fuzzier as I once again go under.

Jun. 25th, 2005 @ 12:19 pm
Home for wayward boys, eh? ........

I'm sitting at home one afternoon, when there's a knock on the door. Two guys in police uniforms are at the door. "Something wrong, officers?"

"Sir, we've come to apprehend you and take you to the new home for wayward boys. Now, you can make it easy on yourself and come quietly, but we'll take you down if we have to."

I try to slam the door, but they kick it in, and the force knocks me onto the floor. One guy jumps on me and pins my arms behind my back as I struggle. "Get the straightjacket, he's not coming easy." The other one comes at me with a needle in one hand and a straightjacket in the other. He stabs the needle into my arm, pushes on the plunger, and I stop struggling. They force my arms into the black leather straightjacket as I moan and grunt. "Come on, walk!" they order, but my legs won't carry me to their vehicle. "Get the gurney, he's putting up a fight."

One of the cops comes back wheeling a gurney to my door. The lift me roughly and throw me onto the gurney, then begin fastening and tightening straps from my ankle to my forehead, pinning me down. Immobilized, I keep moaning and asking what the hell they think they're doing. They roll me out to the parking lot where an unmarked ambulance is waiting. They load me into the back; one gets in with me, and the other slams the doors and drives. As he starts the engine, I regain enough energy to start yelling and demanding some answers. Unfazed, the cop next to me grabs an ambu bag and forces it onto my face. "When you get to the facility, the warden's not going to have any trouble at all whipping your scrawny ass into shape. Until then, I'm going to let the gas keep you under control. I try to turn my head away from the mask, but the strap around my forehead holds tight, he clamps it hard to my face. I try to hold my breath, but when he squeezes the bag, strange-smelling air forces its way into my lungs, and I start to go limp again. He squeezes it a few more times until I'm sufficiently limp and helpless, and the last thing I'm aware of before going under is him strapping a mask tight to my face and opening the valve on an unmarked tank....

Ok, "warden," where does it go from here?

Jun. 24th, 2005 @ 06:49 pm
Haven't written here in awhile due to some RSI problems, what a drag. Kinky shit has been huge on my mind recently, but pretty much all my fantasies have been the same:

Hot guy takes me out with some kind of inhaled substance. I wake up, tied/strapped/cuffed/chained to some kind of gurney/bed thing, uselessly struggling to escape. He shuts me up with some kind of mask (anesthesia, gas mask, either way), plays with my cock, fucks my face, pounds my ass, and pretty much uses my body. When he's done, he dumps a huge load of gas into my mask and I go way under until he wants to use me again. The idea of being put under so far that a machine has to do my breathing for me also makes me pretty hot.

Bottoming is where it's at for me right now. Mmmmm.
Other ideas that I've found kind of hot lately:

- Being hooked up to breathing tubes with another bottom in such a way that we have to compete to breathe fresh air. I, being smaller and weaker, get the short end of the stick and barely get to breathe at all.
- Being intubated and at the mercy of a hot, evil guy and a ventilator.
- A three-tiered system of dominance that involves a top, a bottom, and an in-between bottomy type who just carries out the orders of the top on the bottom, i.e. the top's slaveboy who, against his will, does all sorts of devious things to the actual bottom. Either of the bottom two slots would be great for me.

Despite my obsession with bottoming.....Currently, I have a scene stewing in my head (inspired by osiris831) that involves me being a sexy young intern and slipping some kind of drug into an employee's coffee late at night when we're the only two in the office. I lure him into the conference room before he goes out, and once he's gone to sleep, I strap him down to the table. When he comes to, he's naked except for a pair of binder clips on his nipples and a gas mask, and completely immobilized on the table. I climb on top of him, playing with his cock, and tugging on the binder clips. I attach a tube to the end of his gas mask and put it in my mouth, breathing in fresh air through my nose and exhaling into his tube. When he squirms, I cover the end of the tube with my hand. Just as I'm starting to think about unstrapping his legs and pounding his ass, the hot night janitor comes in and catches me. Being much bigger than my short, skinny self, he grabs me around the neck, pins my arms behind my back with one hand, and uses his other hand to hold my nose and mouth shut. I struggle, and he shoves me face first onto the table...conveniently, right onto the employee's cock. The janitor grabs another binder clip and clamps my nose shut tight, ties my hands behind my back with some rope, and then shoves my face back onto the employee's cock. He holds my face there while I suck cock for all I'm worth. Finally, the employee cums hard down my throat, and before I can spit it out, the janitor yanks me back up and duct tapes my mouth shut. He then cuts my shirt off, rips off my pants, and duct tapes my legs and arms together. While I'm laying on the conference room floor, he unstraps the employee, takes off the gas mask, and puts it on my head, strapping it on tight. The two carry me to the broom closet, where the janitor just happens to have a bottle of chloroform handy. He stuffs a paper towel into the end of the tube on the gas mask, drips some chloro on it, and I go under as he's locking me in the broom closet to be found tomorrow by the morning janitor......
Other entries
» it's been awhile....new fantasy
rbrmsk99: fantasy: i'm floating in a large tank of water, on a breathing tube like the guy inthose pics you sent me awhile back (http://www.homestead.com/tbarry/files/starship.jpg), injured on life support. you and a team of men have been sent to torture or kidnap me, or make sure i never make it out of that tank alive
rbrmsk99: you jump into the tank and torture and fuck me
rbrmsk99: i come to, but too weak to do anything but struggle weakly while one of your team plays with my air
rbrmsk99: you're instructed to take me to your base for questioning and more torture, so your team puts me into a watertight plastic body bag full of the liquid from the tank that's keeping me alive, and hook me up to a small respirator through the sides of the bag

sound hot?
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Been awhile since I updated...I've been travelling and such. Was nice to get home to my gasmask though! Very very nice. When I got back, I spent some quality time in my mask with visions of strapped down boys getting gassed and fucked....Good stuff. I'll write some of it down here when I have more time.

Til then, here's a photo I found in a book on respiratory medicine that I found in the library. Pretty hot. Maybe it'll inspire me....what do you guys think?

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For osiris408...

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Fantasy of the day:

I go down to the Army surplus store up the street, looking for a gas mask. After looking through crowded aisles of old Army gear and finding no gear, I ask the clerk....a muscular, serious looking guy with a shaved head, tight Army green tank top, and tight jeans (ok, I admit, I'm into the skinhead look). He says they keep the gasmasks in the back room because of all the perverts coming in and trying them on, and offers to take me to the back. I follow him.

In the back room are racks full of different types of masks, with another rack covered in various Army uniforms along another wall. There is something behind the uniform rack, some kind of furniture, but I am too excited by all the masks to notice. "Here, try this one on," he says. "It's my personal favorite." A black rubber hood with very small eye pieces and a long hose attached to the end of it...I don't pay attention to the other end of the hose. He comes behind me and straps the mask on my head. I hear a soft "click" but in the rush of blood to my cock, I fail to notice it. "What do you think?" he says, reaching behind the rack.

As I start to answer him, I begin to smell something in the mask....yes, the intoxicating smell of rubber, but something different. I look at him, confused, and he gives me an evil grin. "Well?" I start to panic as the mask fills up with gas, and reach behind my head to unstrap it. My hand hits a solid piece of metal...a padlock. I shout through the rubber for him to let me out, and grab him by the shirt, but he easily overpowers me as the gas takes effect. With another panicked breath, I drop to the floor, out cold.

I awake later, in the same room, still wearing the mask, but strapped to the object behind the uniform rack....a medical examining table covered in black rubber. My torso is completely immobilized by leather straps, and my head is in the same state, still covered by the gas mask. The tube that knocked me out earlier has been replaced by a shorter tube, which hangs off the mask and on my naked chest; I can feel my breath on my bare skin. My legs are similarly immobilized, but are cuffed to stirrups protruding from the end of the table, leaving my asshole and cock exposed to whoever might want to use it. I struggle against the cuffs and straps, but accomplish little more than shaking the metal table.

My captor returns to the room to find me awake. "Did you enjoy the mask?" he laughs. I struggle again, to no avail. "Keep struggling, I love a man who'll put up a fight." He comes closer to the table, pulling on a pair of black rubber gloves. "Well, if you're not in love with this mask yet, you will be soon. Check this out." He grabs the end of my tube, and covers the end of it with his rubbered hand. I grunt as the mask sucks hard to my face, denying me a breath. The pressure builds in my lungs as he grins evilly at me, finally releasing the tube as I begin to convulse. He does this three more times, covering the tube and releasing it until he senses that I can't stand it anymore. By now, my nipples have grown erect, and my cock isn't far behind.

Next, he runs his hands down my naked chest, pinching and tugging at my nipples. Finally, he reaches for a pair of nipple clamps and tightens them until I stiffen and grunt, then tests them with a few good tugs on the chain. I squirm as much as I can under the straps. He puts the end of the tube in his mouth and sucks all of the air out of my lungs, then fills them up again with his own air, covering the end of the tube to take a fresh breath for himself, which he then blows back into my lungs. The combination of the nipple clamps and being forced to breathe his stale air has my cock raging hard.

He notices this, and pulls a rubber strap out of his pocket, tying it around my rock hard cock. With one hand, he strokes my cock firmly, and uses the other to control my air with the tube, keeping my breaths far apart. His hand on my throbbing cock feels so good that I stop panicking and try to lay back and enjoy it, but just as I do, he stops. I want to cry out for him to keep going, but my tube is plugged and I can hardly get enough air to breathe, let alone make a sound.

With one hand controlling my air, he takes his other hand and unfastens his pants, pulling out a gorgeous hard cock. He relents with the breath control long enough to rub lube all around his cock, and then squeeze cold lube onto my ass and rub it in with his rubber-gloved hands. I moan, enjoying the ability to breathe "normally." This doesn't last.

Working my cock with one hand, he guides his cock into my ass with the other, fucking me slow and hard as my pelvis shudders and strains against the bondage. While he's fucking me, he pulls on the nipple chain, sending hot pain to my chest. He fucks me harder and harder until he finally cums in my ass with one last thrust. To finish me off, he removes the rubber strap from my cock, sucks all of the air out of my lungs with his own, and covers off the end of the tube, working my cock with the other hand. Breathless and struggling as hard as I can, I shoot a huge load all over. "Good boy," he says, rubbing my cum over the eyeholes of the gas mask.

Finally allowed to breathe normally again, I suck down all the air I can, chest heaving. When he's decided that I've had enough air, he brings a small tank to the side of the bed, connects my tube to the valve, and open the valve. The familiar smell of gas floods my mask, and in a few deep breaths, everything goes black again. I awake some time later, lying on the floor of my own living room in army green pants, the gas mask, and handcuffs, with the key tied around my neck. Confused, I get myself free. Reaching a hand into my pocket, I pull out the store's business card with the name "Erik" written on the back.
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Think it's time to try my hand at writing a story...tell me what you think....

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