Bondage Buddy

PROLOGUE

As an adolescent and young teen, I was fascinated by cartoons and television shows depicting capture and kidnap scenarios. This fascination usually led to a 'stiffy', but I was too young and naive really to understand exactly what was happening. This enchantment led to exploration in self-bondage, and for years I indulged in this practice, particularly during the summer months when I was home from school and both parents worked.

One Christmas my parents gave a a Polaroid camera that provided developed snapshots within minutes of taking the shot. It had a timer, so you can guess how I spent that summer, trying more and more elaborate ties and bindings. The watershed moment was when I saw a made for TV movie called 'Terror Among Us'. This movie had the capture and kidnap of beautiful women, tying and gagging multiple victims, with an understood rape scene. This was a scenario I played in my head all the time, though since I lacked a playmate I played the victim. It was thrilling tying myself in more and more difficult to escape scenarios, until one day I tied a slightly different self-made hogtie. It was very tight and I had added the problem of looping the rope connecting ankles and wrists over a doorknob. I enjoyed the struggle, found that I was perhaps even stuck, then suddenly my groin and hips started bucking and I felt my little tied up cock release tension and fluid – oh wow! So that was an orgasm! I needed to try that again and again – and I did.

As I got older I found this practice was called bondage and that I was not alone. Magazines, movies and of course, later, the internet had more than enough material to plant scenarios in my ever-widening predicament fantasies. Alas, I quit the self-bondage, not for lack of interest but practicality. I married, and my wife indulged my bondage fantasies for a time, preferring to be the victim rather than bind me; but after a couple of years she grew tired of these games and ultimately we split. So I delved back into the internet to supply/replenish my fantasies – which leads us to the present day.

ONE

Downloading people's knowledge, memories and experiences had been going on for a few years, and with great success. People whose body was ravaged by age or disease, or had suffered a horrible accident, were able to copy their brain onto hard disk and then live virtually for an indeterminate amount of time – no one had yet died, except when someone accidentally (or purposely) deleted a brain dump. The virtual person could display themselves on a 3D hologram, so some chose to look 25 years old all the time, some chose an avatar – it didn't matter really. The brain dump programs had become so sophisticated that backups of the previous day or two was even possible – this was primarily done to erase traumatic events that caused severe depression or syndromes associated with psyche-damaging events.

Developed in parallel but not in any way related, engineered cloning had been used to generate missing body parts from people's DNA. If you drink too much, your doctor could grow a liver from your DNA and replace it in a matter of hours; the technology had progressed that far. Later, the cloning became so pervasive that it was a cosmetic remedy: you could grown a new nose, medically enhance it to look 'better', and then replace your actual nose with what essentially was your nose and your body would not reject it.

Genius scientists who were about to be lost to the world were constantly downloaded, keeping fresh copies and deleting older versions as needed. A few of the scientists agreed to undergo full body cloning to see if an empty cloned brain could accept the memories of the dying scientists. It turned out that it could happen, and quite easily and quickly. A cloned body could be generated in about 4 days and would be ready to accept a download shortly after creation. Brain patterns and uniqueness prevented copying one person's brain scan into a different person's body, that by-product meant identity theft was not an issue. Once created, a clone lived like a normal human, could be 'age tuned' with some certainty to a relative age (default was age of donor) and yet somehow it aged at the same rate as the original even though it only took 4 days to create.

It was here that my perverse mind began thinking about other uses for this technology. I was 45 years old, very well paid for my job, house paid off, single with no real expenses (other than internet websites and the occasional Vegas dancer/call girl) so I bought a home brain backup unit; I could afford it and they were becoming more affordable every year.

I wanted a clone to play bondage games so that many of my fantasies could be acted out. Now I knew I wasn't the first to think of this, I had read about it on the Web, but never about anyone who had actually done it. I searched to find a shady clone doctor, one who wouldn't ask too many questions but would fill out the paperwork to justify that I needed a clone for medical reasons. It was done surprisingly quickly for more than I wanted to pay.

I managed to get the new 'me' home without anyone in my neighborhood noticing – the body was fully functioning and alive, but was an empty book as far as language, memories, personality, etc. and simply stared forward as I lead it to the backup unit and sat it down. I don't like to refer to my clone as 'it' but before the restoration that pretty much describes the vegetative state.

After I went to the clinic to collect my clone I made a full brain backup, so that up to the point of restoration the clone would have all of my memories. While the clone was seated I attached the neuro-net cap and began the restoration. The procedure took about an hour to fully populate the brain. As the clone's brain acquired the knowledge, memories and personality of the original, it goes into a sleep state. Once the run is completed, the clone slowly wakes up, and at that point you are looking at pretty much your exact double. Well almost – I forgot to mention that an enhancement I asked the doctor to perform was to increase the size of my clone's genitals a bit – I wanted to see what I looked like with an 9-inch cock and thicker diameter than my own 6-incher. But that, and fixing the deviated septum I suffer from, were the only augmentations I sought.

TWO

When the clone awoke, it was of course disoriented and a bit freaky for me, but we got over that after few hours of talking. The clone had a hard time with the concept that he was a copy but seemed to accept the facts – he remembered that a clone would be coming home today and also that he was self-conscious of his average-sized penis, and yet he could plainly feel it was large. We decided together that we would assign names so that we could converse without awkwardness. We decided I was 'A' for alpha and he was 'O' for omega, but that O was not inferior to A.

After dancing around the subject a bit, O finally flat out asked about the purpose of his existence. I admitted that companionship was a good reason for it, but mostly it was pure indulgence of 'our' vice – self-bondage scenarios. Now that there were two of 'me', the sessions would be more rightly called bondage scenarios, and we could play more often and have serious tie-up games when I came home from work and on weekends. O smiled and said that sounded great – we both got warm feelings in our groins that led to hard-ons..Perhaps it should have been uncomfortable to notice this but as 'I' was the only one in the room it didn't bother us. We both enjoy a nice single malt whisky (though O to this point had never actually ingested the stuff); we drank a toast to new possibilities.

O kept house the rest of the week while I (A) went to work. It was a more ideal relationship than I even thought possible – housework was done the way I like it, food was prepared and cooked exactly as I love, and food shopping was done for only things I (well, we) consume. One concession I needed to make - I did need to get a second laptop for O since we both now surf the 'net in our separate bedrooms. But we both searched the same sites (maybe in a different order), gathering ideas for our first session for the upcoming 3-day holiday weekend.

THREE

Thursday night O came and knocked on my door just before supper.

“A, how about a little self-bondage session now, to break the ice and see how we like it?”

“Well, I'm pretty sure we're going to like it, aren't we? And O, it's not going to be self-bondage if one of us is the victim and one of us is doing the tying.”

“Ok, tie-up game then, not self-bondage. How about I go grab some rope and tie you up tight on the bed?”

“O, you know we are a switch, and I think we both know that being the top is our preference. To initiate our partnership, I think I should be the top in the first rodeo, so to speak.”

“Fine, you can tie me – try to make it inescapable, you know we love that. Just get some rope or duct tape and a good gag. I'm getting pretty damn horny just thinking about it! I'll strip off and wait on my bed while you go get the stuff.”

And so began our (my? - it is confusing) journey into this territory.

I went to the closet at the end of the hall and pulled out my box. In it there were different lengths of nylon clothesline, several rolls of duct tape, several leather buckle straps, various gags (all were featuring ball gags that were quite big, I usually had difficulty removing them once in place), padded blindfolds, a couple of butt plugs and an assortment of tight cock cages.

If the doctor did as asked, a cock cage that held my penis firmly in check should be downright diabolical for O.

I picked up the ropes and a nice panel gag and marched into O's room. He was already naked and sporting a big semi hard on – the doctor had done as requested. O began to ask where I wanted him when I flipped him over onto his belly and crossed his wrists. I wound the rope across his wrists several times, pulling it taut but not to the point of cutting off circulation. Once that rope was cinched tight and knotted  I grabbed the panel gag. It had a large ball mounted in the middle and sponge padding all around the ball on the panel's inside. O readily opened his mouth as wide as possible (our shared memory of how big the ball was) and I forced the ball in, barely getting the ball behind the teeth. Once that was done I pulled the gag strap very tight, buckling it on the tightest notch that I could. With the ball in place, and the surrounding sponge compressed firmly to O's face, he wasn't making any intelligible, much less audible, sounds. I could tell at this point his cock was fully erect and he was rubbing the mattress with it. I tied his ankles, another tie above and below his knees, and a dastardly rope that wound around his biceps and chest to weld his arms to the body.

O was obviously enjoying this very much, making pleased noises that could be heard through his nose. I could never tie myself up so tightly or pull that gag to the notch the buckle is holding now. I looped another rope to the middle of the top bed frame and attached it to the chest rope on his back; I also looped a rope around his feet and attached to the frame at the base, to hold him onto the bed and frustrate his movements. He was humping the hell out of his mattress and having a great build up. How I envied O at that point! I told him I would be back in half an hour and turned the light off – and closed his bedroom door.

I went downstairs to finish making dinner when I could hear the bed faintly scooting around as he enjoyed his predicament. After a few minutes, I ran upstairs and grabbed a padded blindfold. I opened the door, saw my clone (and my captive) in a terrific bed tie; I snugly buckled the blindfold on O and closed the door again. He was in heaven – and I wished it was me! But it was...and I was fully erect from doing the tying which I also thoroughly enjoyed. Knowing how I could pick knots through the years of self-bondage practice, it was satisfying to finally pull the knots to places I knew I (and thus O) couldn't reach.

After the half hour was up, O was obviously horny beyond belief but couldn't get to the orgasm. He was bucking and rolling on the bed trying to find enough friction to make it happen. Through his very limited noise I made out a pleading whimper from O; this was another watershed moment. I had to decide for myself if getting him off was masturbation, or gay sex. Ultimately, I knew in my heart this was masturbation since this was me, just another version of me. And if (when?) O has me in his clutches, I would hope he would bring me off since we both share memories of self-bondage, self-abuse and self-gratification. So I rolled O on his side, grabbed our huge member, and jacked me (er - him) off until he came. It was an impressive explosion, with an enormous amount of cum on his belly.

The whole scene of seeing myself tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded - brought about by my own hands – rushed back memories of the Polaroid pics and my hard on cried to be relieved. So I stripped myself, rolled an exhausted O onto his belly, and stuck my cock in his hands. He seemed to realize instantly what I needed and began pumping me with one hand, rolling my balls in the other, until I came in a large explosion of my own on his back. I cleaned myself and my back (um – O's back) and untied O. We both showered in our separate bathrooms and came down for dinner. Neither of us felt the scene as played out was worth conversation during dinner, so we watched television and went to sleep in our separate beds as per previous days.

FOUR

Friday night – both of me were really excited at the start of the 3 day weekend. As I stepped through the door after a long day, O greeted me with two small tumblers with about ˝ an inch of whisky – a wee dram for each to start the session. Those that drink single malt whisky know you don't drain your whisky in a single gulp – sipping is the only way to truly enjoy the nectar. But I knocked it back and asked O how he intended to start tonight's session.

'A, are you hungry? What I have planned may last awhile.”

“Nah, before I left the office I had a piece of birthday cake around 3 – so I'm good.”

“Ok, well go upstairs and use the bathroom if you need, then come back down here to the living room – clothes not necessary.”

My self-bondage sessions have always been fully nude so this was not a surprise that I would tell myself to be naked. But as I went upstairs I knew that O would also disrobe. It dawned on me as I quickened my pace upstairs that there was a sort of misplaced vanity there, in that I enjoyed being naked and looking at myself naked. I went to the toilet and cleaned myself thoroughly, inside and out.

When I got back downstairs, I saw that O had pulled the drapes closed around the house. It was smart, since if anyone did happen to look in, it might be a little hard to explain how there were two of me, naked, and one tying the other up tightly in a kidnap/hostage situation. I noticed one of the high backed wooden dinner chairs was sitting in the middle of the front room. Apparently this was to be my predicament for the evening, tied to a perfect bondage chair.

When I sat down, O didn't really say anything, he just grabbed a long length of rope and guided my arms on either side of the slim back chair. O crossed my wrists and carefully wound the nylon coils around my wrists, not tight but thorough. Once there were enough loops encircling my wrists he cinched the rope tight. My hands were definitely trapped behind me but O had managed to bind me without causing a lot of discomfort other than the immediate thought that I was a prisoner in my home, made so by my clone. Once the wrists were tied he began a series of coils tying my ankles, then above and below the knees, and another encircling my upper thighs. He then took the longest uncut coil and looped it across my upper chest, weaving the rope in the upright slats of the chair until no real movement within the confines of the chair was possible. He then took on final piece of cut cord and looped it between my ankle cinch, pulled the rope to a bottom strut underneath the chair, wound it a couple of times, then brought it up and over my thighs and back down, tying it off to trap my legs against the seat.

O took a minute after the last knot to examine his work, check the ties and pulled on the rope for tautness. Appearing to be satisfied, I opened my mouth to ask him something. But before I could say a word, he exclaimed “Ah! That's what I forgot!” and he grabbed a harness gag, rudely shoved the huge ball into my mouth and began buckling the straps. The straps were very clenched, I never had the leverage necessary to get these buckles so tight.

I had a huge hard on while starting to struggle against the bonds. This moment was exactly why all the money had been spent, to realize my perfect capture and self-abuse scenario. I was totally unable to escape, much less even move, and I had done this to myself, through my clone. The fun and excitement of being captured was fantastic, the build up of  exhilaration as I anticipated my masturbation and release. Despite being tied more stringently than ever in my life, I felt very much at ease and safe, knowing that my clone, possessing my own mind, would rescue me when we were finished playing.

O had his 9-inch hard on raging as well and I think he was so excited by being the perpetrator that he was unsure how to conduct himself. Here I was, tied and gagged by him, he knew that I was totally at his mercy and he was really getting off to that. His excitement was such that he straddled the chair facing me and sat on my lap. I'm not sure what he intended to happen, probably just a little reminder of my humiliation. But because of the size of his cock, we 'crossed swords' and he suddenly became aware of my nakedness and vulnerability that perhaps he hadn't fully registered before. He was naked too, of course, but he wasn't the one bound and gagged, imprisoned by a dining room chair.

So he did something aggressive and unexpected – he grabbed a small leather thong, like a shoelace, from the box of gear and looped it around my ball sac, tying it tightly and then wound some at the base of my 6 inch shaft and knotted it. This was decidedly painful but I could withstand it for a little while. O's glee was obvious and he was in a bit of a frenzy. Seeing me all bound up and no where to go, he decided it was time for a little payback. He dragged the chair and tipped it forward until my chest lay along the back of the sofa, really adding to the feeling of helplessness by inserting an element of suspension. His payback was in the form of leaning right up to the chair and placing his cock and balls in my bound hands, expecting me to wank him off. I figured that since we did 'quid pro quo' last night this would eventually lead to my pleasure as well.

So it didn't take long for O to get there and he came all over my back, to which I was mildly repulsed. But instead of cleaning me up and then jerking me off,  O said:

“A, I think I'll go have some dinner now while that splooge dries on your back. Now keep quiet so I can enjoy our dinner.” And with that, he went to the kitchen and left me 'hanging', in many senses of the word.

I retested my bonds now, since the frustration would become intense if I couldn't get a tug going on my bound dick. As I increased my struggles the chair creaked louder and louder. I thought I felt a knot near my left thumb and forefinger when I heard a chair scoot in the kitchen. Apparently O had heard enough from my feeble escape attempt.

“So A, you had to ruin the peace and quiet for my dinner by trying to pick at your ropes. How about we change your position so I don't have to hear any of that? What do you say? Nothing? – Okay, I'll take that as a yes then.” And with that he set the chair back on all four legs, much to my chest's relief.

O began to untie and unwind a few ropes and hope sprang anew that I would a) be jerked off and b) that I would regain my freedom. But apparently all O was doing was freeing my body from the chair. Once I was no longer lashed to the chair he took me to the floor and re-looped and cinched rope around my upper and lower chest to immobilize my arms again. He then got me to a standing position, bent down and hoisted me over his right shoulder. He then started marching up the stairs with me impotently carried away, looking very much like a home-made sausage, I imagine. My crotch was buried against his shoulder, so my little tied-up hard on was rubbing against O with each step. He seemed to notice and once we got to the landing he quickened his pace and tossed me onto my bed.

But again the hope of orgasmic relief I had allowed myself to foster was snuffed out. O opened my walk-in closet, grabbed everything that hung on the bottom pole and just piled the clothes to the back. He then pulled me off the bed and dragged me into the closet, face up, laying on my bound hands. He ran out of the room and came back with what jingled like a lot of buckled straps. He flatly laid out several straps next to me, one near my ankles, two that were near my knees (above and below), one at around waist level, one at the lower chest, one at the upper chest, and one at face level. O rolled my body face down onto the straps. I was totally powerless to prevent him from doing anything. Then he took the pole, lined it up along the axis of my body and proceeded to buckle each strap tightly, fastening me to the pole.

Once the straps were all tightened, O then lifted the end of the pole near my head and hooked it back into place in its bracket. He then did the same to the feet side of the pole and there I was, totally suspended on the closet pole. He had already tied me so well that I could never escape from the ropes without help, but now I was hanging along the pole facing down, and was even more helpless than when welded to the chair downstairs. To add to my total chagrin, O had taken the strap near my face and had run that belt across my mouth and then pulled extra hard when buckling, forcing the gag even further behind my teeth. And to complete my humiliation, my dick was raging stiff because of the leather thong and the predicament; but O untied the strap around my balls and cock. O chuckled as he turned off the light, closed the closet and then the bedroom door as he headed back down to eat his dinner.

FIVE

I hung there in the darkness like a piece of curing meat. I was sweating from the futile effort to loosen some part of my bondage. O had tied me up and strapped me in a much better version of a fantasy I played out when I was a teenager practicing self-bondage. I was totally immobile and mute, and even if I could grunt a sound loud enough to be heard, I was behind two closed doors within my own house – who hear to rescue me?

While I was lost in thought as to what to do next, how to convince O that the game should be over and that he could release, I didn't hear his footsteps as he opened the closet door. During my isolation time, my hard on has ceased and my penis had shrunk to its tiny, non-excited state. I'm pretty sure that was what O was counting on, because the next thing I knew he was slapping the cock cage on my member, ratcheting the ring around my little ball sac and encasing my shaft into a tiny prison. I had bought this cock cage because it was so severe and would restrict any growth of my cock. He then pulled a leather blindfold around my eyes and buckled this into place. The last act was definitely for added degradation since the closet was total darkness anyway. I grunted and mewled through my gag to get O to talk with me but he just closed the doors again and left me.

I'm not sure much time passed before I felt the end of the pole near my head lifted out of its notch  and being brought to the floor. I guess I had either passed out or fallen asleep. Once the pole was fully unhooked and I lay on the carpet again, O started unbuckling the straps binding me to the pole. O rolled me over onto my side as the blood began to redistribute itself and full circulation was almost realized. The strapping had really cut the circulation but the ropes that bound me were looped but not so tight that blood flow was restricted. So I was comfortably tied up without a chance of escape.

O had turned the light on in the closet as he unbuckled the blindfold. My mouth was super dry and I really needed to pee. O seemed to pick up on this without a sound from me. He stood over me, pulled me up by the chest ropes welding my arms to my sides, then carried me (again over the shoulder) to my bathroom and set me down in the shower. He turned on the water (damn the water was cold at first!), unbuckled my gag, and said:

“A, you probably should do any bodily functions necessary now. You have a long day ahead of you.”

Long day? I hadn't looked at a window so I was not aware of the sunlight, or lack thereof. Just how long had I been hanging on that pole? Well, while O was out of the room I peed and tried to do anything else but peeing was all that I needed. But I made sure that I gulped down some water while in the shower, who knows how long he was going to keep this up?

O came back in about 15 minutes and turned the water off. I was about to tell him the session was over when he pinched my nose and re-gagged me, buckling the various harness straps as tight as before. He laid out a couple of towels on the floor and dragged me onto the towels. He left me again for another 10 minutes before coming in to finish drying me with another towel. He pulled me to my feet again by the chest ropes and hauled me to my bed. He tossed me down but I bumped against something on the bed. I rolled to where I could look at the item – it was a rolled up sleeping bag that I kept with my camping gear. O had strung a rope through the center of the roll and tied it around the mattress so that it was fixed in the middle of the bed.  A long buckle strap was also sticking out either side through the center of the rolled bag.

O could see my confusion as I tried to understand – and suddenly I noticed again the raging 9-inch hard on. O slapped my ass very hard, leaving a good red welt.

“A, I'm putting the blindfold back on you and then I'm going to fulfill your 'damsel in distress' fantasy.”

And with that, the blindfold was buckled on despite my feeble head shakes of defiance. He then grabbed my hips and lifted me over the sleeping bag, with my helpless ass sticking straight up in the air and my body bent over at a perfect ass fuck angle. He then buckled the strap that had been threaded through the sleeping bag roll across the back of my waist. O then grabbed my ball sac and forced two pieces of wood around my sac and locked the contraption; the wooden pieces pressed hard against the back of my thighs. O must have gone somewhere to buy a 'humbler'.

I then felt O's hand forcefully open my ass cheeks and apply something like Vaseline on and in my anus. I protested with all my might but he just held me down while I bucked as hard as I could to get off the bag. The next thing I knew he had placed the tip of a rubber plug to my ass, and shoved and twisted it so that he lube he had stuffed into my rectum coated this as it drove home.

He smacked the other side of my ass with equal force as the first welt and whispered “This is the first of many fantasies fulfilled, you lucky fuck”, and the bed creaked as he climbed up behind me.

Then it dawned on me what was happening. My clone had my mind - it knew every memory and every thought I had my entire life until it came home with me. The forbidden fantasies that I only dreamed about and maybe acted on alone in self-bondage sessions were shared between us now. All the kidnap scenarios, burglary predicaments, bound bestiality – he knew every one of my dark fantasies that were always meant to remain as fantasy.

But the difference between us was the size of our cocks and balls. The additional testosterone that his balls were flooding his body with made O the more aggressive side of me, the dominant me. And the humbling of my genitals would make me the submissive.

Since he knew everything I did, he could essentially replace me at work and become me. I hadn't thought that through at all, and now I might be a permanent fuck doll and prisoner for my aggressive clone.

He straddled my bound legs and sidled up to my vulnerable ass. As he reached down and began to pull the butt plug out from my anus, O said:

“Remember, this is not gay sex – we are doing this to ourself”.

The butt plug made a small 'pop' sound as it came out.