Paz was there to get spanked.
I watched Moro do the honors, staying off-camera except for his black Spandex-covered arms and the first paddle.
Jim shot the video. Then they argued over the camera location, and that led to some disagreement about the lighting.
They decided to see how it looked on a laptop screen...
And Jim mentioned, under his breath, that he had some primo weed down there, in his jacket. They looked at each other -
and left.
"Hey," Paz yelled. "Hey!"
They closed the door.
This was my chance.
I brought a roll of tape out of the storage closet.
He watched it fly over and start unrolling, amazed as be could be. I taped his mouth, and wound it around his head.
Paz fought like crazy, but their restraints had him hogtied with leather and steel.
I eased his shoes and socks off...
And really got his attention with the gloves.
So stuck. Not as immobile as I'd get him, but he couldn't even roll around much.
I took my time, for effect. Gloves to his sides, gloves to boogie on his feet, gloves to steady his ankles so I'd get a good test.
He shook his head.
I crawled on his ribs.
One short whoop, a gasp - and Paz laughed with gusto.
It was a powerful reward to start tracing up and down his soles. He tried to flop around, banging his gagged head on the mattress.
Empty but strong fingers of mine said hello to his shaft.
The other guys passed the joint back and forth. Letting the paid help stew in his cuffs...
Apparently they couldn't hear him bellowing all-out into the tape.
I loaded up a box with supplies, and a trash bag with his stuff... as I brought fourteen more gloves over to him.
He wailed, eyes nice and big.
Picking him up, I checked the back stairwell. All clear, as usual.
No need to tease him yet. There would be no end of time for that. I opened the door and flew him quickly to the stairs. The box and bag followed right behind him.
When Jim and Moro came back in, they'd find model and restraints missing.
This was not the first time I'd nabbed one of their BDSM posers.
Down three flights, in about twenty seconds. Opening the basement door, I set him down. An empty storage cage I'd used before would get recognized by Moro, if he wasn't too stoned...
But the other hallway had an old door near the end. The door had been stuck closed for many years when I found it.
In a flash, I hauled Paz through. Thick walls, no vent. I forced the door to close.
Off came the tape.
"HAAAALLP!" he yelled.
It was barely audible outside the door. The best noise he could make didn't get all the way down the hall.
A thorough test was next. Ooooh yeah.
I shifted the box, to get his attention. Made all twenty gloves he'd seen float up and out. Filled 'em.
"Nooo nooo noooo," he said to them as they came back. Paz chuckled, remembering my first contact.
Eight of them held him still.
I brought two right above each foot. Ribs again, pits, crotch, neck.
"Aw, c'moonnnaaaah hah hah hah hah!"
Slow, easy kickoff. He tried to roll. Barking laughter, rolling his head around.
I raked more firmly on his sides, then eased that pair off and sped up the fingers riding his taint and under his balls. He wailed.
Let's try out these pits -
Fast and firm.
Paz howled. Unable to struggle.
Twenty fingers covered his feet. No more mister nice tickler.
His roars climbed up in pitch until he was silent. Mouth wide open, looking exactly as if he was laughing hard. No volume, and too much distraction to thrash around, meant he'd go for hours longer until he passed out.
I roamed heavily around his head, on his collarbones, teased his pecs good and hard. Checked out his knees. Hips.
He was so far gone already, he didn't even see more gloves fly over and join in.
When the sun started heading down, I put all of those gloves and four brushes to use.
He'd almost passed out three times. If I'd picked my spots right, he'd snooze within ten minutes.
This time, I didn't hold back.
Yup.
As soon as the sun set, I knocked him out again...
Went out and "borrowed" a car.
Wheecum had a spare playroom, and lots of supplies.
He barely knew he was riding away from Moro's neighborhood. Still cuffed, I don't think Paz roused himself enough to figure out I was working the steering wheel and the pedals for him.
Twenty-seven minutes later, the car was behind a gas station that had been closed down for a couple years.
I carried Paz over empty fields.
After a couple of minutes, he was locked inside his new country crash-pad.
The cuffs were unclipped from each other.
Wheecum had left top-grade straps bolted to the floor, so I spread him wide. Poured a bottle of water down his throat.
Getting impatient, I went out to the storeroom. Thinner straps would anchor him down even more securely. Oils, lube, a manual cock-pump, anal vibrator, the first box of surgical gloves...
When the door opened, the dude was shocked to see so much more fun stuff float in there for him.
I didn't think he'd possibly wear out in a couple days - or a couple weeks. Wheecum would want to meet Paz, too. He was worth a whole lot of our time. He needed to learn what good bondage gear could allow...
Extended, customized fun was in store.
29oct2023