Meeting Connor (M/M)
Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2020 10:23 am
After quite a long absence and a few writer-blocks, I figured the easiest way to get writing again is to start of with a true story.
And since its turning out into a longer one, it's going to be in chapters.
MEETING CONNOR
Part One:
Social Media can be a bliss and a burden. Over the years, I’ve been in contact with a lot of people, chatting about our kinks, role-playing online, … but every time when there were plans of meeting each other, everything stopped. Plans were made, dates were set, until a few days or even hours before the meeting: complete radio silence, and the people were gone as if they never existed.
Needless to say I’ve lost faith in the honesty of people, and became rather hesitant on engaging in a new possible hookup.
After a while, there was one guy who sort of regained my thrust. Connor and I started chatting casually, throwing jokes around, finding common interests. We were both into bondage, big fan of tapegags. He loved smelly and sweaty socks, and was a willing victim. Over time we kept joking around of meeting each other, talking about what I would do to him, sending him pictures of my sweaty socks. But every time the words ‘we should meet up’ came around, I backed off a little, scared of another disappointment.
Until one night. I had such a boring night, so decided to take a small piece of rope, tie my feet together, and send Connor a picture of my tied feet. Like I’ve done so many times. After some texting back and forth, I took a leap of faith.
“How about I drive over to your place next Friday and get you what you deserve?”
As soon as I’ve hit the send-button, I felt the nerves rising.
“I’m up for it. If you wear these socks until we meet. I want to know how your feet smell”
Excitement. Could this be a turn in the no-shows?
----
As the week went by, I kept texting updates on the socks. In my shoes at work, on my desk, and as the week progressed, the smell got more and more intense. The days went slow, but at last it was Friday. I left work a little earlier than usual and made a stop at the hardware store to stack up on some extra rolls of tape. Since both of us got a major turn on of that, I got a broad range of colors and types. The standard silver and black, but also a red, orange, yellow and a striped one. I threw them in my bag of ropes and drove over to Connors place.
It was an hour drive, and the closer I got, the more the nerves kicked in. As I arrived, I’ve spent fifteen minutes walking up and down the street before I rang his doorbell.
During the week before, we’ve texted about a lot of possible scenarios. Burglary was a popular one, but we decided, since it was the first time we would meet, that he would just let me in and we would have a chat first, and see what would happen.
He buzzed me in, and I took the stairs to his apartment. Connor opened the door, gave me a small tour on the apartment, which was a rather short because he lived in a studio-appartment, and chatted about his upcoming trip abroad. All was very relaxed and casual, and nerves started to disappear.
I got up to use the restroom. Merely an excuse, because I had to take out the small coil of rope I had ready in my jacket. I felt confident enough to get the party started.
As I came back, Connor stood at his desk looking at his computer. His back towards me. This was my moment. I grabbed him from behind, pulled his arm behind his back and clenched my hand over his mouth. Connor worked out, so he was able to put up a fight. But I managed to maneuver him towards the bed and pushed him down on his stomach. I grabbed both wrists, and tied them together with the small piece of rope.
“let’s start this party” I whispered in his ear. I grabbed my bag and took out more rope, tying his arms together, securing them to his chest. More rope around his ankles and thighs until he was incapable to run away.
Although I knew he enjoyed his situation, he went in a victim role: Swearing, shouting, telling me to go fuck myself and release him. I liked where this was going. Although I’m not the most masculine dominant alpha male, I enjoyed my new found position.
“So my boy, you want to know how the adventure of my socks will continue?” I said as I took of my shoes. I sat myself on the bed, and shove my sweaty socked feet underneath his nose. While he was sniffing my one foot, I took of the other sock. I balled it up, and brought it to his mouth.
Playing the victim, he kept turning his head away from the sock. I figured, since he really likes sweaty socks, that was sort of a self-torture to him. But he kept on refusing to open his mouth, I sat myself on his back, pinched his nose and forced my wet sock into his mouth. Muffled protests, attempts to spit it out, his body struggling beneath me. I grabbed a roll of red tape, and started to wrap around his head, sealing the sock tightly in his mouth. After 10 rounds of tape, I tore off the roll, and tapped his plastered cheek.
“Now, that’s better, isn’t it? Hope you like it”
“MMMMPHM!”
I took another piece of rope and secured his legs to his wrists, leaving him in a tight hogtie. I took a bandana and covered his eyes.
I took a step back, sat myself on the couch, and watched my victim working against his ropes. As I took a sip of my drink, I was glad I took the leap of faith
To be continued
And since its turning out into a longer one, it's going to be in chapters.
MEETING CONNOR
Part One:
Social Media can be a bliss and a burden. Over the years, I’ve been in contact with a lot of people, chatting about our kinks, role-playing online, … but every time when there were plans of meeting each other, everything stopped. Plans were made, dates were set, until a few days or even hours before the meeting: complete radio silence, and the people were gone as if they never existed.
Needless to say I’ve lost faith in the honesty of people, and became rather hesitant on engaging in a new possible hookup.
After a while, there was one guy who sort of regained my thrust. Connor and I started chatting casually, throwing jokes around, finding common interests. We were both into bondage, big fan of tapegags. He loved smelly and sweaty socks, and was a willing victim. Over time we kept joking around of meeting each other, talking about what I would do to him, sending him pictures of my sweaty socks. But every time the words ‘we should meet up’ came around, I backed off a little, scared of another disappointment.
Until one night. I had such a boring night, so decided to take a small piece of rope, tie my feet together, and send Connor a picture of my tied feet. Like I’ve done so many times. After some texting back and forth, I took a leap of faith.
“How about I drive over to your place next Friday and get you what you deserve?”
As soon as I’ve hit the send-button, I felt the nerves rising.
“I’m up for it. If you wear these socks until we meet. I want to know how your feet smell”
Excitement. Could this be a turn in the no-shows?
----
As the week went by, I kept texting updates on the socks. In my shoes at work, on my desk, and as the week progressed, the smell got more and more intense. The days went slow, but at last it was Friday. I left work a little earlier than usual and made a stop at the hardware store to stack up on some extra rolls of tape. Since both of us got a major turn on of that, I got a broad range of colors and types. The standard silver and black, but also a red, orange, yellow and a striped one. I threw them in my bag of ropes and drove over to Connors place.
It was an hour drive, and the closer I got, the more the nerves kicked in. As I arrived, I’ve spent fifteen minutes walking up and down the street before I rang his doorbell.
During the week before, we’ve texted about a lot of possible scenarios. Burglary was a popular one, but we decided, since it was the first time we would meet, that he would just let me in and we would have a chat first, and see what would happen.
He buzzed me in, and I took the stairs to his apartment. Connor opened the door, gave me a small tour on the apartment, which was a rather short because he lived in a studio-appartment, and chatted about his upcoming trip abroad. All was very relaxed and casual, and nerves started to disappear.
I got up to use the restroom. Merely an excuse, because I had to take out the small coil of rope I had ready in my jacket. I felt confident enough to get the party started.
As I came back, Connor stood at his desk looking at his computer. His back towards me. This was my moment. I grabbed him from behind, pulled his arm behind his back and clenched my hand over his mouth. Connor worked out, so he was able to put up a fight. But I managed to maneuver him towards the bed and pushed him down on his stomach. I grabbed both wrists, and tied them together with the small piece of rope.
“let’s start this party” I whispered in his ear. I grabbed my bag and took out more rope, tying his arms together, securing them to his chest. More rope around his ankles and thighs until he was incapable to run away.
Although I knew he enjoyed his situation, he went in a victim role: Swearing, shouting, telling me to go fuck myself and release him. I liked where this was going. Although I’m not the most masculine dominant alpha male, I enjoyed my new found position.
“So my boy, you want to know how the adventure of my socks will continue?” I said as I took of my shoes. I sat myself on the bed, and shove my sweaty socked feet underneath his nose. While he was sniffing my one foot, I took of the other sock. I balled it up, and brought it to his mouth.
Playing the victim, he kept turning his head away from the sock. I figured, since he really likes sweaty socks, that was sort of a self-torture to him. But he kept on refusing to open his mouth, I sat myself on his back, pinched his nose and forced my wet sock into his mouth. Muffled protests, attempts to spit it out, his body struggling beneath me. I grabbed a roll of red tape, and started to wrap around his head, sealing the sock tightly in his mouth. After 10 rounds of tape, I tore off the roll, and tapped his plastered cheek.
“Now, that’s better, isn’t it? Hope you like it”
“MMMMPHM!”
I took another piece of rope and secured his legs to his wrists, leaving him in a tight hogtie. I took a bandana and covered his eyes.
I took a step back, sat myself on the couch, and watched my victim working against his ropes. As I took a sip of my drink, I was glad I took the leap of faith
To be continued