Betreff: [Straitjackets] First attempt at a story

Datum: Mon, 15 Oct 2001 11:06:58 -0700 (PDT)

Von: Brian Bodeglio <bodeglio@yahoo.com>

Give me feedback. If you like this, I'll keep going.

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Chapter 1: The Lucky Winner

One can imagine how skeptical I was when I received e-mail informing me that I was the lucky winner of an all expense vacation to "The Spa Vacation Resort". I was sure it was spam, and I immediately deleted the e-mail and made sure to scan my hard drive for viruses. However, a few days later I received a phone call.

"Mr. Brian Taylor please."

"Speaking."

"Hello Mr. Taylor, my name is Sam, and I am with Contest Management Inc. You were notified by e-mail this past week that you have won a vacation......"

"Wait a second, I did get that e-mail. I thought it was spam. Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but I think you're trying to rip me off."

"Oh, I understand sir. You recently made an online purchase through Artco. They were running a contest, you indicated that you wanted to be part of it, and you won. We just recently started our winner notification service, but we have been around for 15 years. You can look up our ticker symbol on Yahoo and get any pertinent information concerning us. I'll give you my extension here. Call the public number you will find on the Internet and call me back and we'll get your vacation all set."

The guy was right, I had made a purchase lately, several in fact. I had never heard of Artco, but I figured that Artco was most likely the owner of one of the companies that I had bought from. And since he had mentioned it, I did seem to remember skimming over something about a contest. I did my research just to be safe and found the Contest Management Inc. was a reputable company that did help companies run contests. I called their public number, punched in Sam's extension, and was reconnected with him. The prize was legitimate.

Sam offered to send me brochures about "The Spa", but I turned them down. A week at a health spa was exactly what I needed. I was sure that "The Spa" had all sorts of wonderful activities to offer, but I was only interested in massages, food, and perhaps a movie or two. I made my arrangements and was ready for my vacation. I put in the forms at work, and made arrangements to take the following week off.

Day 1: Arrival

The next week I flew out to Connecticut. I was greeted at the airport by a limo service. The driver was friendly and got me to "The Spa" quickly. I arrived early Saturday evening. It was a cool autumn evening at dusk. There was a long leave strewn driveway that led up to the main building. The driver helped me get my bags down, I tipped him, and he left. Just as I was about to carry my bags up the steps, a voice called to me.

"Don't worry about your bags," said a woman dressed in white pants and a white blouse, "I'll have someone tend to them. She was standing at the top of the steps. Evidently she had heard the car pull up and decided to come out and greet the new guest. "May I get your name?"

"Oh sure, Brian Taylor."

She looked over the clipboard she was holding, "Ah yes, the contest winner. Congratulations, Mr. Taylor. Please follow me, and we'll get you checked in. I followed her up the steps. She sat down behind the receptionist desk, and picked up her phone. "Susan? Yes, Mr. Taylor just arrived. Okay, see you in few." She hung up the phone. "Someone will be here in just a minute. I register indicates you won your trip here, are you looking forward to your stay."

"Absolutely. This is going to be great."

"Are you nervous at all?" she asked.

"No, why would....."

Just then the door to the right of the receptionist desk opened. Out came what appeared to be two nurses, one blond, and one brunette. This seemed a little strange to me, but hey, it was a health spa. I wasn't planning on doing any strenuous exercise this week, but it was probably available here. They were probably going to give me a quick exam to make sure I wouldn't have a heart attack. The blond nurse spoke. "Please come with us Mr. Taylor, we'll get you checked in."

They held the door open for me and I went on into the next room. It was, as I thought a small exam room. There was a desk, a few filing cabinets, some shelves, and a closest. I sat down in the chair next to the desk. The blond nurse began to take my blood pressure as the brunette nurse took some forms off a shelf and placed them on a clipboard.

The brunette nurse spoke. "My name is Rachel, and this here is Susan. We'll be your attendants for the weekend. Please read these forms and sign and then we can proceed."

Susan finished taking my blood pressure. "You are all set Mr. Taylor. No concern with your BP."

Having constructed an explanation for everything, I assumed that the forms were a standard disclaimer. We are not responsible if you spend the night in the steam room, dehydrate, and die, or We are not responsible if you eat the mud in the mud baths and get sick. I looked a the page quickly not even reading it and signed the bottom.

"Here you go," I said handing the clipboard back to Rachel.

Rachel looked over the form. "Okay, everything is in order here, you can now get changed and started on your week here. This is the changing room here," she said indicating the door I had assumed was a closet. It has two doors. You'll go in through here and exit through the other door. There is a bin for your clothes already in there. Any questions?"

Actually I was beginning to have a bunch, but I was curious now, so I decided to go along. I shook my head no, and went into the change room. Inside were a padded bench and a small package. I opened the package and inside I found a black lycra unitard. I was beginning to understand, or I thought I was. I took off all my clothes, placed them in the bin, and slid on the unitard. It was a wonderful snug fit. I took a few deep breaths, and exited the change room. I found myself in a small padded room. Rachel and Susan had come around some other way and were waiting for me. Susan was holding a Straitjacket, and Rachel was holding leather restraints.

"You can back out now if you like," Susan said, "as was indicated in your stay contract. If you choose to go ahead, you are in our care for the rest of the week."

It made sense now. I had purchased several things online recently. One of which was a Straitjacket. Artco was obviously the parent company of the medical restraints company through which I bought the jacket. "The Spa Vacation Resort" was just a name for a place where fetishists could come and experience the feel of being committed for some period of time. The documents I signed were obviously a disclaimer saying I wouldn't sue them for keeping me tied up for the week. This vacation was going to be better than I thought.

"No," I said, "I don't want to back out. I would like to stay for the week."

The nurses smiled. They approached me. "Okay, hold out your arms," Susan said. I complied, and she worked the jacket on me. Rachel put down the bundle of leather restraints she was holding and went around behind me to help Susan. The Straitjacket was similar to a Posey model. The only difference that I noticed was that it had a high collar built into it. The two nurses buckled the straps that went down my back. Rachel came around front and threaded my arms through the front and side securing loops. She then pressed my elbows together as Susan fastened the sleeve ends together and pulled them tight. Working together they managed to get my arms so tight that when they were done, I was totally immobilized. Susan then reached through my legs and pulled the crotch strap through, cinched it extremely tight, and secured it.

"There," Rachel said, "almost done." She picked a head harness ball gag out of her bundle of goodies and placed it on my head. The ball was just large enough that it wasn't uncomfortable, but is produced a wonderful ache in my jaws. She picked up the rest of the restraints, and then the two of them began to lead me out of the room.

We walked down the hallway of what appeared to be a hospital. A few other nurses passed us as we made a few turns. We stopped in front of a door, which Susan opened. It as a padded room like the one we had just been in, only this one had only the door though which we entered.

At this point the two nurses got a little rough with me. They dragged me to the floor and forced me onto my stomach. Susan sat on my back, while Rachel worked on getting my feet restrained. I felt leather cuffs go around my ankles. I felt my legs being pulled up into a hog-tie position. Susan secured a strap from each ankle cuff somewhere to the back of my Straitjacket. They then both got up to survey their work, and then left.

I started to struggle to determine if there was a way to escape. The Straitjacket was a perfect fit and applied with expertise. There was no way I was getting out. Each ankle had been attached to the jacket independently. Though my feet were not attached to each other, I could not sit or squat. The tethers were too short. I worked myself up by struggling for about 20 minutes. Every part of my restraint was tight and unyielding. I had been aroused since I had first seen the unitard, now it was more than I could take. I rolled onto my stomach and used the floor and crotch strap as stimulation. I quickly exploded into the unitard. I relaxed into my wonderful restraints and drifted off to sleep, wondering what the next week would hold for me.

Day 2: Treatment

Susan and Rachel woke me up the next morning. "Rise and shine, Mr. Taylor," Susan said cheerily as she and Rachel entered my padded cell. Restraints come off much faster than they go on, so it took only a few seconds for them to release my ankles, allowing me to walk. They helped me to my feet and led me out of the room.

The two nurses led me down the hall a few feet to another door. There was a Plexiglas window at head height, but the room was dark inside, so I couldn't see in. Rachel opened the door, and then she and Susan positioned me in the doorway. Susan released the crotch strap, while Rachel released the strap holding the sleeve ends together. I was quickly pushed inside and the door was shut and locked behind me. I was a bit stiff, so it took a moment for me to get the Straitjacket off. Once it was off, I removed my gag.

My eyes had not adapted to the dark, so I was forced to feel around the wall for the light switch. I quickly found it, and flipped on the lights. I was surprised to find myself in a very elegant bathroom, complete with a shower, sink, and a separate water closet.

"Wow!" I exclaimed, "this looks like it belongs in a five star hotel."

"Oh, we are," Rachel's voice came through an intercom, "only we offer our guests the very special treatment they need." I looked toward back at the window in the door and saw both Susan and Rachel looking in at me. Rachel was holding a small microphone in her hand, which she had obviously used to activate the intercom. "Did you enjoy your first evening in our care?" she asked. She then noticed the stain on the front of my unitard. She gave me a look of mock disapproval. "It appears as though you did. Don't worry though, we are capable of handling naughty patients such as you. Though we were hoping it wouldn't be necessary, a clean unitard has already been placed in there for you. Hurry up and get cleaned. Breakfast starts in ten minutes."

Rachel and Susan moved away from the window. I lost no time in taking a shower. When I was finished, I brushed my teeth and shaved with the battery-operated electric razor that was provided. Just as I finished up, Susan peeked in to check my progress.

"Very good, Mr. Taylor. You were prompt getting ready. That means you get a semi-normal breakfast this morning.

She opened the door and directed me to sit in the wheel chair Rachel was pushing. The chair had thick ankle and wrist restraints already attached. Once I was secured, we moved on to breakfast. We arrived at a dining room that was also elegantly decorated. I was pushed up to a table, and a plate of bacon, eggs, toast, and juice was placed before me.

"You got ready quickly this morning, here is your reward," Rachel informed me. "Lazy, slow patients get breakfast like that patient over there."

She directed my attention to a woman in a wheelchair like mine, only she was secured in a Straitjacket and had a harness strapped to her head. The harness had eye and ear covers and held a large plug shaped gag in her mouth. The gag was attached to a tube and syringe. A nurse held the large syringe, which was filled with some sort of brownish paste. She was feeding it into the tube, and into the woman. As they fed her, the woman writhed against her restraints. It looked uncomfortable, but knowing that this place would not get any return business if they abused the clientele, I guessed she was actually enjoying her predicament.

Susan and Rachel fed me the rest of my breakfast. When I was finished, I was wheeled out of the dining room and back into "The Spa". We made a few turns and entered a padded room that had double doors without locks.

"This is the prep area," Susan explained. "This is much like the room you entered through last night. This is where you will be prepped for all your treatment this week.

In the room was a hospital bed. Rachel picked up a Straitjacket from the bed, while Susan removed my wrist restraints. Rachel helped me into the jacket and loosely buckled the back, while Susan released my ankles. Together they then finished strapping me into the Straitjacket as they had the night before. When it came time to secure the crotch strap, I noticed that the jacket was slightly different from the one I had been in the night before. Instead of a single crotch strap, there were two, that when attached would be positioned on either side of my cock.

"This jacket should keep a naughty patient like you under control and prevent you from indulging yourself," Susan said with a grin as Rachel reached through my legs to grab the first strap. As she brought it back through, she made a point to brush her hand over my already hard cock.

Rachel finished with the crotch straps, and then both of them helped me onto the bed. With Susan on my right, and Rachel on my left, they began to place my legs in restraints. Each ankle was attached to the side rail and then each thigh. A strap was also placed across my stomach. Susan fixed a stiff posture collar around my neck, which kept me from turning my head. Rachel placed a ball gag in my mouth and tightened the strap behind my head. Lastly, she fixed my head to the stretcher with a forehead strap.

The nurses wheeled me out of the prep room and down the hall. I could only see the ceiling due to my restraints. After a few minutes, we arrived at another room, and Susan raised the head of the bed. In front of me was television with a VCR, otherwise the room appeared to be a normal exam room.

"Because you were such a naughty patient," Rachel began, "the staff felt as though you needed some frustration therapy. Enjoy yourself, although not too much." She pressed play on the VCR, and then she and Susan left the room.

The television sprang to life. A bondage video began to play. I was immediately aroused, and I began to search for a way to stimulate myself. The double crotch strap was positioned just right so as to prevent that however. I considered trying to roll sideways and rub against the guardrails, but the leg restraints prevented that. I lay there for several hours teetering on orgasm as one video after the next played. Finally the door opened and Rachel entered.

"You look as though you have learned your lesson. Patients that pleasure themselves are disciplined here, Mr. Taylor," she said walking toward the head of the bed. "Don't worry though," she cooed in my ear, "Nurse Rachel is going to make it all better."

She placed her hand on my almost pulsating groin and began to vigorously rub against the lycra that encased it. Within seconds, I violently released, groaning loudly into my gag.

"There," she smiled at me, "that's much better. You be a good patient and take a nap. Susan and I will be back later at lunchtime. She shut off the television, turned off the lights, and left the room. I settled back into the bed and fell asleep in the tight embrace of my restraints.

To be continued.