This actually happened, several years ago on a trip to Los Angeles. I was headed back to LA and stopped for the evening at a Hampton Inn off the 405 in northwest LA. I had been driving several hours so I was pretty tired. I got to the check-in desk and looked over to my left to see a Spanish looking older guy, wearing a Security uniform. Nothing unusual there—maybe they had unruly guests, but this guy had a belt on loaded with an assortment of handcuffs, maybe even some leg irons.
My first thought was, I’d love to be locked up in a bunch of them. Instead I just checked into my room, went out to Denny’s across the street and then back to the hotel. Don’t remember if the guard was there when I got back, but the mere fact I am now writing about this brief sighting shows how powerful the image and desire was all those years ago.
So much for the truth, now comes the fantasy.
I returned form Denny’s no longer hungry for food and spotted the same guard standing off to the side of the check in desk, looking very intimidating with so many manacles dangling from his belt. There must have been at least twenty, of various thicknesses and styles.
“Hi,” I meekly said, “do you guys have a lot of trouble with people here that you need so many handcuffs?” figuring this would break the ice with him.
“Yeah, sometimes I need to restrain a few people before the Police arrive. We’ve found the Police don’t always respond so quick so I become the law, so to speak.”
“So, what was the least offensive thing someone did that you had to cuff them?” I asked.
I thought I saw a slight smirk in the Guard’s smile, behind his moustache and handsome face. “One night some kid tried to steal my wallet—that was the stupidest thing,” he replied eyeing me up and down. I had on a tight grey T-shirt, blue jeans and sneaks (or maybe boots).
I decided to lie to him. “Well, if I must say so myself, I’m something of an escape artist. I’d love to see if you could restrain me and make it so I can’t escape, and see if I can.”
He gazed at me again and blurted out: “Sure, I’ll gladly handcuff you and see how good you are at escaping. But here’s the deal: I’ll need to keep you somewhere inconspicuous—not here in the lobby. And I’ll continue to make my rounds, every 15-30 minutes or so. If you’re not out I’ll add another fetter to challenge you more.”
I was getting highly aroused and maybe not thinking straight with my head—who knows what this guy might do to me. “Sure,” I suggested, “pretend I tried to steal your wallet and you need to call the cops. Then you can add more and more cuffs as long as you want, or until I say, ‘Uncle?’’
“OK,” h replied, “it’s a deal. But you have to accept everything you see on this belt, and a few more in my office.” He must have seen the puzzled look on my face, and added, “it’s nothing you can’t stand.”
I noticed a hardon in my jeans, so I reached over to try to grab his wallet. “you shouldn’t have done that boy. Hands up against the wall!” as he pushed me down the corridor leading to some offices. He kicked my feet apart and grabbed my right wrist and twisted it behind my back, swiftly snapping a shiny metal handcuff on my wrist. CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, the cuff grabbed my wrist and he pulled my left hand and arm around to join the right, snapping the other end around my resisting wrist: CLICK, CLICK, CLICK. I put up a little struggle, just to see his reaction.
“Watch it boi!” he barked as he grabbed another set of irons and proceeded to snap these onto my ankles. I notice about a ten-inch chain going between the shiny metal cuffs. I almost came right there but he marched me to his office, where he plopped my down on a metal chair, pulling my wrists over the back.
“This is great,” I said, as he seemed to be preoccupied with searching for something else.
“I can’t have you making a lot of noise while I go on my rounds, so…” he pulled out a roll of two-inch gray duct tape and rubber ball.
“No one said anything about a gag!,” I protested. He simply grabbed my nose and closed my nostrils, causing me to open my mouth to breath. He shoved this two-inch rubber ball into my mouth, pushing it past my teeth, filling my mouth and forcing my tongue down. I screamed as loud as I could but he slapped the end of the duct tape onto my left cheek and pulled it across my lips, sealing them shut and quieting me considerably.
"Shut up, boi, you asked for this!" he barked. He pulled the tape around the back of my head and continued circumnavigating my mouth and head several more times, higher and lower, even adding some tape under my chin up to my cheeks.
“MMMPPPHH! AARRGGHH" I yelled, to no avail. He smiled and started looking through my pockets, emptying them of their contents. As he pulled my belt off one my handcuff keys fell to the floor behind me.
“I see-I think I’ll just put this somewhere for safe keeping," as he placed it inside my left sock and allowed it to fall under the leg iron cuff, into my shoe. He slowly clicked the leg iron tighter, and double locked every cuff.
" That should be enough of a challenge for you for now, boi. Hope you’re out before I get back otherwise its more restrictions. Hope you had no plans for a while!”
Immediately I realized we hadn’t agreed to a time limit, and watched as this guard I had just met not 20 minutes ago, now had me bound and gagged in an office where no one but him had any idea where I was. I grabbed around the handcuffs and found no opening area around either of the tight metal cuffs.
I was in ecstasy and fearful all at the same time and closed my eyes, screaming into that thick mass of rubber and duct tape, bucked in the chair and came in my pants!
Security Guard (m/m)
Security Guard (m/m)
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Last edited by jackroper 4 years ago, edited 3 times in total.
continue please, always liked the idea of being bound, gagged and played with by a security guard
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fratboydanny
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Awesome story @jackroper! Thank you for writing and sharing it.
Awesome first part as always... hoping the guard has more then just cuffs...wink...wink. Rubber and leather... with zippers....wink wink wink!
Thanks for the positive reviews. Here's the second chapter.....
6:45 PM--
I was in a reverie of sorts, just came in my jeans after being cuffed hand and foot by a Security Guard at the Hampton Inn. I was still tired from my trip and must have fallen asleep after struggling briefly to get out of the restrictive handcuffs and leg irons. There was no way I could get out without a key.
I was startled awake by the office door opened and the Guard returned.
"I see that you're still handcuffed and there seems to be no attempt at escape, Mr. Escape Artist," he laughed. I MMMPPPHHHed into the thick gag restricting my speech to mere mumbles. He glanced down at my crotch and smirked.
"But it looks like we've had a little accident here, didn't we? You must really be enjoying yourself, kid, but like I told you the agreement is that you get out or I add more cuffs, so...."
He removed another handcuff from his belt. I could see it was a rigid handcuff, the type with no chain between the cuffs, just an unremitting hinge. Further, I recalled playing with one of these by myself and realized the locks were on the top, and reaching them even with a key was virtually impossible unless you had the flexibility of a yogi.
He clicked these cuffs on top of the first pair and double locked them. He proceeded to remove the first pair.
He bent down and removed my sneakers and socks brought another pair of heavier 2" leg irons down to my ankles, placing these on top of the first pair and then removing the first pair.
"Wow, these are heavy!" I mmmppphhhd a little to complain (I really wanted both pairs on) but realized I was screwed even more, until he offered me a ray of hope.
"I'm gonna give you a fighting chance Mr. Escape Artist. I'm leaving both keys to these cuffs right behind you on this here table. You probably have 15 minutes to get out, otherwise I'm adding even more restraints the next time." He was smiling a little too malevolently for my appreciation, as he quickly exited.
I knew it was unlikely I'd get out even with the keys but I had to try. I reached over to the table, trying to look behind me, bound and gagged as I was. I fumbled with the rigid handcuff key, trying to position it over the top of the cuff and tried balancing it over what I thought was the hole when suddenly I felt it slipping and heard it gently hitting the tile floor.
I screamed again into my gag and struggled mightly to break these cuffs and leg irons, as I could feel another erection building from the intense frustration. And then ….
6:45 PM--
I was in a reverie of sorts, just came in my jeans after being cuffed hand and foot by a Security Guard at the Hampton Inn. I was still tired from my trip and must have fallen asleep after struggling briefly to get out of the restrictive handcuffs and leg irons. There was no way I could get out without a key.
I was startled awake by the office door opened and the Guard returned.
"I see that you're still handcuffed and there seems to be no attempt at escape, Mr. Escape Artist," he laughed. I MMMPPPHHHed into the thick gag restricting my speech to mere mumbles. He glanced down at my crotch and smirked.
"But it looks like we've had a little accident here, didn't we? You must really be enjoying yourself, kid, but like I told you the agreement is that you get out or I add more cuffs, so...."
He removed another handcuff from his belt. I could see it was a rigid handcuff, the type with no chain between the cuffs, just an unremitting hinge. Further, I recalled playing with one of these by myself and realized the locks were on the top, and reaching them even with a key was virtually impossible unless you had the flexibility of a yogi.
He clicked these cuffs on top of the first pair and double locked them. He proceeded to remove the first pair.
He bent down and removed my sneakers and socks brought another pair of heavier 2" leg irons down to my ankles, placing these on top of the first pair and then removing the first pair.
"Wow, these are heavy!" I mmmppphhhd a little to complain (I really wanted both pairs on) but realized I was screwed even more, until he offered me a ray of hope.
"I'm gonna give you a fighting chance Mr. Escape Artist. I'm leaving both keys to these cuffs right behind you on this here table. You probably have 15 minutes to get out, otherwise I'm adding even more restraints the next time." He was smiling a little too malevolently for my appreciation, as he quickly exited.
I knew it was unlikely I'd get out even with the keys but I had to try. I reached over to the table, trying to look behind me, bound and gagged as I was. I fumbled with the rigid handcuff key, trying to position it over the top of the cuff and tried balancing it over what I thought was the hole when suddenly I felt it slipping and heard it gently hitting the tile floor.
I screamed again into my gag and struggled mightly to break these cuffs and leg irons, as I could feel another erection building from the intense frustration. And then ….
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But only after I stripped down naked, and applied more lube to my body
.7:10 PM-
I must have fallen asleep. My exhaustion was beginning to take over. And I noticed the air conditioning in the Guard’s office seemed to be very cold. I was shivering when the Guard came through the door again, smiled at seeing my present predicament and said:
“Mr. Escape Artist…not doing very well are we?” He picked up the handcuff key from behind the chair I was fettered too. It was now 7:10, I noticed.
“Guess we’ll have to make this a little more interesting. He went over to a nearby closet and took out what looked like a Latex straightjacket; it may have been rubber, I thought. He could see I was shivering so he said, gently: “How about we start over and you put this suit on. It’ll warm you up.”
“I mmppphhhed Yes as loud as I could, so Miguel, as his name tag indicated, began unwrapping the duct tape covering my lower face. When he got to near the end—(four times around! Jeez!) he pulled the tape and caused me to yell. The rubber ball hindered my speech but I was able to push it out with my tongue. It slid down onto my lap, with saliva streaking down. “Wow! That was really a trip!” I ejaculated. “I really thought you might be calling the cops on me.” He smiled and quickly loosened the rigid cuffs holding my wrists securely behind the chair, and the heavy leg irons. I stood up, shakily and Miguel offered me a Coke, which I drank down quickly. “Thanks,” I said, looking intently at the rubber straightjacket he was picking up off his desk.
This jacket was dark gray with arms and legs attached. He gave me some lube to squirt insides the jacket and told me to put it on, but only after I stripped down naked, and applied more lube to my body. I did so without a murmur of opposition and noticed my hand-on was returning again. I pulled my legs into the rubber sleeves, and pulled the arms through, which had links around my thumbs to keep the sleeves down. The fit was very tight but exquisite too. I’d never put one like this on before and enjoyed the warm rubber hugging my whole body.
Miguel stepped behind me and zipped up the back of the rubber encasement, now completely constricting every inch of my body.
“How does that feel?” he queried.
“Wonderful. Will you be adding cuffs again?” I teased, to which he again opened his closet and showed a hanger loaded with all different cuffs, fetters, and irons.
“Here’s the deal,” Miguel stated, “I’m going to use more than one of these on you for the rest of the night, maybe every 15 minutes, maybe more all at once. And I will set the keys to each cuff out here where you can reach them off this chair behind you.”
I quickly agreed as that was what I thought was going to happen in the first place.
Miguel proceeded to remove a series of cuffs and irons from the closed and started snapping several around my lower wrists. I could see and feel that the first pair had smooth edges and a link between the rigid cuffs. “CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.” He didn’t stop there, reapplying the heavy leg irons, weighing down my legs with a relatively short chain between my ankles.
He then pulled another set of leg irons, but instead of putting this on my ankles he snapped the cuffs in place onto my elbows, on each bicep muscle. “Wow” I thought. “That feels great,” I smiled. Miguel smiled back.
“I’m glad you like it, boi, but keep in mind you are still trying to escape. If I don’t see progress, I’ll just be adding more and more irons. Hope you can deal with that,” he said, applying a bunch more irons around my wrists (click, click; click, click, snap, snap, tighter and tighter, heavier and heavier,).
I started to complain, “You really don’t have to use that many cuffs, Sir,” I said but Miguel simply moved behind me and produced a leather plug gag which he shoved into my mouth and quickly strapped it closed behind my neck. I heard a lock pulled and closed over the buckle behind my neck. “MMMPPPHHH! NNNOOOOOOO! AAAARRRRGGGHHH!” I screamed.
Miguel seemed to have just gotten started as soon my arms were loaded down with what must have been ten handcuffs and irons. He added more irons onto my ankles and locked the chains together with a heavy padlock, drawing the loose ends together so there was no was I could walk out easily.
For a finishing touch he produced a thumb cuff and locked this around the base of my thumbs, causing my erection to press against the rubber prison it was in, I jerked back and forth trying to escape. The multiple chains rattled ominously behind me. Miguel laughed and said: “I’ll give you a couple of hours to get out of those, otherwise I may have to call the cops after all,” as he closed his office door behind him. I could hear him laughing to himself as he walked down the hall.
I screamed a few more times, which only seemed to make his laughter grow stronger in the distance. I heard a heavy door slam shut and the faint sound of locks closing on it.
What have I done? I thought. There was no way I could get out of this, even with all the keys arrayed behind me. My frustration boiled over as I bucked in my chair, which caused, you guessed it, another orgasm, more powerful than the first, probably the most powerful of my life so far. The chair bunked into the chair holding all the keys and I heard them plop one after another on the floor behind me.
What a bondage predicament I’m in. I smiled behind the leather gag and went into another reverie, slumping in the chair.
.7:10 PM-
I must have fallen asleep. My exhaustion was beginning to take over. And I noticed the air conditioning in the Guard’s office seemed to be very cold. I was shivering when the Guard came through the door again, smiled at seeing my present predicament and said:
“Mr. Escape Artist…not doing very well are we?” He picked up the handcuff key from behind the chair I was fettered too. It was now 7:10, I noticed.
“Guess we’ll have to make this a little more interesting. He went over to a nearby closet and took out what looked like a Latex straightjacket; it may have been rubber, I thought. He could see I was shivering so he said, gently: “How about we start over and you put this suit on. It’ll warm you up.”
“I mmppphhhed Yes as loud as I could, so Miguel, as his name tag indicated, began unwrapping the duct tape covering my lower face. When he got to near the end—(four times around! Jeez!) he pulled the tape and caused me to yell. The rubber ball hindered my speech but I was able to push it out with my tongue. It slid down onto my lap, with saliva streaking down. “Wow! That was really a trip!” I ejaculated. “I really thought you might be calling the cops on me.” He smiled and quickly loosened the rigid cuffs holding my wrists securely behind the chair, and the heavy leg irons. I stood up, shakily and Miguel offered me a Coke, which I drank down quickly. “Thanks,” I said, looking intently at the rubber straightjacket he was picking up off his desk.
This jacket was dark gray with arms and legs attached. He gave me some lube to squirt insides the jacket and told me to put it on, but only after I stripped down naked, and applied more lube to my body. I did so without a murmur of opposition and noticed my hand-on was returning again. I pulled my legs into the rubber sleeves, and pulled the arms through, which had links around my thumbs to keep the sleeves down. The fit was very tight but exquisite too. I’d never put one like this on before and enjoyed the warm rubber hugging my whole body.
Miguel stepped behind me and zipped up the back of the rubber encasement, now completely constricting every inch of my body.
“How does that feel?” he queried.
“Wonderful. Will you be adding cuffs again?” I teased, to which he again opened his closet and showed a hanger loaded with all different cuffs, fetters, and irons.
“Here’s the deal,” Miguel stated, “I’m going to use more than one of these on you for the rest of the night, maybe every 15 minutes, maybe more all at once. And I will set the keys to each cuff out here where you can reach them off this chair behind you.”
I quickly agreed as that was what I thought was going to happen in the first place.
Miguel proceeded to remove a series of cuffs and irons from the closed and started snapping several around my lower wrists. I could see and feel that the first pair had smooth edges and a link between the rigid cuffs. “CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.” He didn’t stop there, reapplying the heavy leg irons, weighing down my legs with a relatively short chain between my ankles.
He then pulled another set of leg irons, but instead of putting this on my ankles he snapped the cuffs in place onto my elbows, on each bicep muscle. “Wow” I thought. “That feels great,” I smiled. Miguel smiled back.
“I’m glad you like it, boi, but keep in mind you are still trying to escape. If I don’t see progress, I’ll just be adding more and more irons. Hope you can deal with that,” he said, applying a bunch more irons around my wrists (click, click; click, click, snap, snap, tighter and tighter, heavier and heavier,).
I started to complain, “You really don’t have to use that many cuffs, Sir,” I said but Miguel simply moved behind me and produced a leather plug gag which he shoved into my mouth and quickly strapped it closed behind my neck. I heard a lock pulled and closed over the buckle behind my neck. “MMMPPPHHH! NNNOOOOOOO! AAAARRRRGGGHHH!” I screamed.
Miguel seemed to have just gotten started as soon my arms were loaded down with what must have been ten handcuffs and irons. He added more irons onto my ankles and locked the chains together with a heavy padlock, drawing the loose ends together so there was no was I could walk out easily.
For a finishing touch he produced a thumb cuff and locked this around the base of my thumbs, causing my erection to press against the rubber prison it was in, I jerked back and forth trying to escape. The multiple chains rattled ominously behind me. Miguel laughed and said: “I’ll give you a couple of hours to get out of those, otherwise I may have to call the cops after all,” as he closed his office door behind him. I could hear him laughing to himself as he walked down the hall.
I screamed a few more times, which only seemed to make his laughter grow stronger in the distance. I heard a heavy door slam shut and the faint sound of locks closing on it.
What have I done? I thought. There was no way I could get out of this, even with all the keys arrayed behind me. My frustration boiled over as I bucked in my chair, which caused, you guessed it, another orgasm, more powerful than the first, probably the most powerful of my life so far. The chair bunked into the chair holding all the keys and I heard them plop one after another on the floor behind me.
What a bondage predicament I’m in. I smiled behind the leather gag and went into another reverie, slumping in the chair.
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Last edited by jackroper 4 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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NeedControl
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So fun!!!
I thought it was a bit odd that he described a straitjacket but then it was not a straitjacket... nevertheless this is fun and hot, and I hope you'll continue!
I thought it was a bit odd that he described a straitjacket but then it was not a straitjacket... nevertheless this is fun and hot, and I hope you'll continue!
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fratboydanny
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I really need to check into this hotel...
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that1kid13
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I just read this, it’s so good!!! (:
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sniffingyoursocks
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Thanks guys, glad you like it. I even went on Google and believe I know where this Hampton Inn is located; off the 405 Freeway. It's probably Sherman Oaks. If that is right there is a steep offramp leading to the hotel to the left. There's also a Denny's to the right, maybe a block away. If any one of you happen to be in that neighborhood you might want to check it out, around 5 pm weekdays. That Guard could possibly still be working there.
Meanwhile, if any of you have a suggestion where you'd like this tale to go, please send me your thoughts.
Thanks again!
Meanwhile, if any of you have a suggestion where you'd like this tale to go, please send me your thoughts.
Thanks again!