The night
began like any other. Yeah, right. Let's face it. I haven't
done this in a while. I was mentally hyped and these events
always conjure up blue balls for a few days prior to the
kidnapping because of that whole "mystery" factor.
Will it be hot and fun? Will I jack off alone? Will there
be more than one guy? Will there be any problems? Will
they have fun? Will I have fun? Well, those are the notions
that go through my head, but this time, I was skittish.
I'm not sure why.
I just couldn't bring my head, heart,
and dick to fully let go and enjoy this. I was a bit
on edge and a bit nervous this night. That happens sometimes.
But, I committed myself to it and I wasn't going to "bitch up" as
we say in motocross. I geared up in my two layers of
PVC with my full black one-piece leather race suit over
that. In southern California, the nights are toasty
warm, so working up some sweat was easy. My hard-on
was totally raging under the gear. I left the apartment
and drove my truck to the destination parking spot.
Seeing a stray car in an empty lot doesn't always get
attention, but an abandoned sportbike would. I wanted
a low profile, so the truck was necessary. I parked
and walked over to the kidnap location.
I got there early so I could take
a little time so soak up the area and get a sense of
potential traffic, people, or other unforeseen events
that would effect the scene. There were none. It was
a mixed bag. I was happy no one was there, but as I
look back now, I suspect that an interruption of some
kind would have helped me settle down and just say "oh, well, I guess I can't do it tonight." It
would have been an easy "out" to avoid the unknown.
Thank gawd it was dark outside and nobody was around.
My raging dick was throbbing and growing under the leather
racesuit with every step I took. Oh yeah, it felt fucking
awesome. There's no other feeling like it in the world.
I know many of you haven't tried it, but the PVC suits
under the leather is what does it for me. The sweat acts
like a full body lubricant. The smooth vinyl glides over
every part of your body. The tight leather racesuit compresses
you and the fact that it's a one-piece suit makes you
feel like you're wrapped in a plastic and leather bondage
bag. With every step, my dick slid against the vinyl.
The tight leather suit felt like a hand was grabbing hold
of my rock hard cock and jacking me off. Oh yeah, oh yeah,
oh yeah... That is the feeling I enjoy most.
 I walked to the treeline and crouched down. I lit up
a cigarette and had 20 minutes to kill. I put on my leather
wrist restraints one at a time, cinching them tight against
the leather sleeves on the racesuit. I grabbed the locking
clips and placed one on the left restraint and one on
the right. I watched the clock click down to 10:00pm.
The noise of the streets around me quieted down enough
for me to hear my own leather creaking and stretching
with every move. Oh it felt great, but I was still apprehensive
this night. Had there been a few minutes more to settle
my racing heart, I would have put my leather hood on.
Just as I reached down for it, I saw someone walking towards
me. Do I put the hood on? Is it someone out for play?
Is it someone out for trouble? I couldn't do it. I waited
as he walked closer with a backpack. He was dressed casual
with no leather, so I had to wonder what the story was.
Undercover cop? Angry straight guy? In a matter of moments,
as he approached, I could sense he was out for fun, so
I sat there, and stayed crouched against the tree as he
moved behind me. I heard him rummage through his pack
back for what seemed an eternity.
Suddenly, from behind, he grabbed my arms and pulled
them behind the tree. He locked the restraints together
and I couldn't move. The leather suit was pulled tight
across my chest, my arms drawn back behind me. Without
hesitation, he moved around in front of me, and began
peeling duct tape off a roll. It's funny how the sound
of duct tape changes in your mind from a blue-ball fantasy
to a real freakout when your bound and captive. He wrapped
several layers around my mouth and the games began.
actual photo from captor |
He pressed his body against mine
and began feeling me up and down, rubbing and pawing.
My motor was running now. I was virtually immobile.
My hardon was exploding. With every twist, motion, bump,
and grind, my body and dick were sliding inside the
tight leather gear. The sweat increased "lubrication" and my dick was gliding
under the compression of the PVC and leather. Even more-so
as his weight pressed against me. He reached down and
grabbed my leather hood. He put it on over my head and
slowly worked the laces until it was snug. It's a "puffy" hood
which feel slike a leather pillow wrapped around your
face. It muffles sounds and only has tiny rivet holes
for breathing. No eye holes. He latched the buckle and
it was done. At that moment, any rational thought of escaping
or regaining control was lost. I was the victim. I was
at his mercy.
He played me like a game piece — perfectly and
responsibly. He knew the game. He covered the tiny breathing
holes on the hood with his hand. He knew how to read the
rhythm, teasing me and toying with me but not going to
excess. I stood up now. The leather racesuit pulled even
tighter with the full length of my body extended and my
arms restrained behind me. He slowly unzipped the zipper
on my chest and started feeling the vinyl suits underneath.
If you've read my article on PLASTIC PASSION (see "Dain
Bramage" under the Press Link), you'll understand
that the two layers of vinyl increase the "fluid-like" sensation
as the two layers slip and glide over each other. With
every pass of his hand across my plastic chest, I could
feel pockets of sweat break free and run down my flesh.
We played a few minutes more until it was too much. Too
much, that is, to be completely bound. My hands were undone
and the hood came off. I threw the racesuit off my shoulders
so I could grab my cock and we both started jacking off.
Normally, I shoot in the gear without ever touching it,
but I wanted hand action tonight. We worked the passion
and gear into a frenzy and he shot his load. (Thanks for
brining the towel!) I kept working myself up and came
so fucking close so many times, but the fear outdoors
got the better of me. I couldn't do it. We smiled at each
other, paused, caught our breath, and without saying anything,
brought the scene to a close.
"So, you come here often?" I
asked jokingly.
We chatted for a few minutes and
he informed me he came up from San Diego. Fucking San
Diego, people! Geezuz! That's about 100 miles, guys.
I couldn't believe it! Don't any of you L.A. fucks complain
about distance. Fuck, you drive right by me on your
weekend fling in Palm Springs! Anyway, we walked back
to our cars and we both had a smoke and talked some
more. It didn't feel right to do the whole "wham
bam, see you latuh man!" because of the distance
he travelled, so I asked him if he wanted to come over
to my place for a few minutes before heading back.
 He followed me back to my pad, had a beer and continued
conversation of jobs, interests, and who knows who, etc..
I gave him the tour of the apartment (all of 30 seconds)
and showed him the bedroom. He saw my full bedroom wall
displayed in leather race gear. Suits, jackets, helmets,
and more. I really didn't intend for it to happen, but
fortunately he expressed an interest in one of my racesuits.
He said he never tried one and he was about my size, so
he put it on and it fit awesome on him. Hellllooooo, sailor!
I was knocked to the bed and he climbed
on top of me. What a beautiful sound of two leather race
suits grinding away. He pinned me down as we worked our
bodies in heat and sweat on the rubber sheet. I flipped
him over and returned the aggression. Not knowing how
far to go with this top, I just enjoyed a few moments
holding him down and kissing as I laid on top of him.
In the heat and privacy of my own space, I was ready to
shoot. I unzipped my suit, and laid on the bed facing
up. He stood up along side the bed and readied himself,
too. He unzipped his suit and began jacking off on me.
 With my hand clenched around my dick and him in leather
standing there, it didn't take long. I grabbed the top
layer of my vinyl shirt and pulled it up over my head.
Imagine wearing a t-shirt and grabbing the bottom front
of it and pulling it up over your head. My face was pressed
tight against the vinyl. I shifted my face left and right
gasping pockets of air. I could hear him moaning above
me. He was ready to shoot. In the heat, the sweat, the
feel of the rubber sheet, the vinyl and leather suits,
I shot like a friggin' cannon. His load came right behind
mine. It was fucking perfect.
We both collapsed from a fairly long night. He laid down
next to me for a few minutes while we both caught our
breath. The scene was complete.
I took a quick shower to rinse off and bring my body
temp back down because these scenes tend to push the envelope.
I came out and we bullshitted some more.
Considering I haven't done this in a long time for personal
and safety issues, it was perfect encounter with the greatest
guy. He can actually form real sentences! lol It was more
than a physical pleasure for me. It was simply nice to
have a good encounter and good conversation in all it's
forms and in all respects. It's nice to know we can be
freaks about our interests, but we don't have to be freaks
in life.
I don't know how our conversation
shifted there, but we imagined the trees having conversations
after we left. I suggested that the other trees were
mocking the one tree and saying "Ha, ha, bud! You had a fag cum all
over you!" Then my new friend suggested it could
have been a female tree. I said "If that's true,
she's probably asking why do I meet all the gay ones?"
All in all — a great night.
Thank you, San Diego. You've always been good to me!
I wasn't going to share this, but I have no idea where
else to give it a home on the website, so I'll add it
here for those interested. In the course of re-capping
our evening and discussing gear, I was talking about a
method of play that gets me off every time without fail.
I explained that had tonight been a bust and no one had
shown, I would have shot my load this way...
First, some guys can shoot their load in their gear,
but as you know, I'm a freak about the PVC/vinyl suits
on underneath. So, imagine the feeling of the plastic
suits (which provide wet and free motion) and a FULL leather
racesuit over that. Then, with the leather wrist restraints
TIGHTLY cinched on my wrists, I find a tree branch and
clip my hands over the branch. As leather racesuits are
snug to begin with, having your arms extended over your
head tightens the suit even more. I can't tell you about
other configurations, but I can tell you about this! I
believe the one-piece (full body) suit is the best choice
for this scene. As you'll soon read, it has to do with
the nature of the full panel body design you can't achieve
any other way.
The leather wrist restrains are cinched
tight against the leather racesuit and because of the
leather to leather, it's almost like the restraints
and racesuit become "bonded".
So, with my arms and hands clipped above my head over
a branch, my body weight pulls the racesuit taught against
my body. Imagine a G.I. Joe action figure (the really
cool SWAT one) in a big plastic bag. Then, imagine taking
the ends of the bag and pulling them to their limit. Can
you see it in your minds eye? The bag gets tight and snug
against me, I mean, Joe!
That's the same principle here. With the weight distributed
so evenly in this quasi-suspension setup, it delivers
perfect and comfortable confinement so well that I can
pop my load faster than any frat boy in my bedroom.
You heard it here first. Yes, KidRacer-X can hump a tree!
At least I've never been accused of being dishonest. I'd
love to know if anyone else has discovered this unique
physical sensation.
So that's the latest adventure story. Are you making
adventures in your life?
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