I walked inside and I saw they guy, big guy, older, maybe in his forties, shoot me a look.  Despite what they sold, I'm sure it wasn't everyday that a twenty two year dressed in only board shorts, tanned and muscled by the ocean came in.  He looked back to something he was doing behind the register.  I looked around and a chill went through me.  The walls were lined with things, some I recognized, others I did not.  Gags, harnesses, dildoes, apparatus; it was like stepping off of a boat during a scuba dive, you're suddenly immersed in a different world.  I sort of walked down an aisle, unsure of my direction when the guy behind the counter spoke.

"Can I help you find something?" He said, still not looking at me.

"I'm... just looking." I said meekly.

"First time inside a place like this?" He asked.  I nodded.  

"Let me ask you something," he said.  I'd find out his name was Randy.  I think he could tell by the way I was nearly shivering-- and not from the cold mind you-- that I was a sub.  "Surfer?  Swimmer?"

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"You got a lean build.  Long muscles, that comes from either paddling or swimming." Randy said.

"I do a little of both."

"Me, I gotta hit the gym," He said.  "That adds bulk."  It was true.  He was in pretty good shape, the tank top exposed his biceps and a wide chest.

"I gotta ask you something else," he said.

"Okay," I nodded.  

"Have you ever been helpless?"

"Helpless?" 

"Helpless, you know, in a situation where nothing you can do will change anything."

"I'm not sure I get what you're saying," I said.

"Okay, look.  I don't bite, okay.  I'm gonna show you something."

He walked out from behind the counter and locked the door, turning the "open" sign to "closed."  

He saw my eyes widen.  "Hey, look, I'm just showing you something.  The ultimate choice is always yours.  Follow me."

The guy, Randy, walked past me to the rear of the store where a large wooden door I originally thought was for show, you know, like a dungeon door around all of the leather.  He took out some keys and opened it.  "Come on," he said. He saw me hesitate.  "Like I said, I don't bite." Randy beckoned me inside.

We came into a high ceilinged back room, well lit, kind of industrial, with a fifteen foot (or so) wooden frame with all kinds of metal hooks and eye sockets.  To all sides were racks of equipment, what I would learn was bondage gear, and overhead, a block and tackle winch, controlled, I would find out, but a hydraulic switch hanging to one side of the wooden frame.  

In the corner, there was a leather beam of some kind.  "Come over here," Randy said. "Here, under this." He indicated the wooden frame with all of the hooks, as he looked over one of the shelves.  He produced two pieces of leather, cuffs, with a longer belt that had a metal ring.  

"Over here, put these on."  

Okay, this was where I should have said, 'okay, I think I'm a little weirded out by all of this, I think, I gonna leave.'  But I didn't.  I was still shaking. I didn't know what this guy was planning, but I couldn't say no.  It was the compulsion I mentioned before.  I took the offered cuffs.

"Put them on your wrists.  It's important that you do that yourself."

"Why is that?--"

"Do it," Randy said with an edge to his voice.

I dropped my eyes.  What was I doing here?  The leather wrist cuffs had a small belt that you could adjust and lock into place.

"Make sure they are good and tight," Randy said.

I pulled each of the eyes pretty tightly around my wrists, pushed the male needle through the leather, and then through the buffer.

"Come here," Randy said.

I stepped closer to him.  

"Here," he said, and he clipped a metal carabiner, like a mountain climbing clasp around both of the leather cuffs, binding my wrists together.  Before I could ask what he was doing, he attached another carabiner to the block and tackle winch hanging down from above the center of the wooden frame.

As I stood there, shivering in anticipation, he pulled a hydraulic control from a hook, and pressed the green button.

I felt my wrists rising up over my head.  By the time I was pulling to get my wrists free, it was too late.  The lift whirred and the chains in the pulleys ratcheted and I was in a moment, standing on my toes, with my wrists trapped up over my head.

"Feel helpless?" Randy asked.

I looked away from his piercing eyes, then dropped my eyes in a nod.

"Not quite yet," Randy smiled.

While I tugged briefly at my hands, already bound over my head, Randy stooped beside each of my ankles, and secured two more cuffs, one around each.  He attached these to short chains, which ended at eye hooks at the base of the wooden frame.  Randy adjusted these until my legs were spread, then he stepped back over to the controls, and I was lifted off of the ground.

Oh shit, I thought, this can't be happening!

"Those cost much?"  Randy asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Okay," he said.

He went over to another shelf, and pulled out a large pair of siccoors.  I struggled a bit because it all came to me in an instant.  I've let this sadist capture me, and now he's going to cut me up.

"Easy," he said, and using the scissors, he clipped off my bathing suit.

"Thought so," he said, tapping my too hard cock with the edge of the scissors.  "Do you feel helpless now?" Randy asked.

I looked away from his eyes.  I was bound by my wrists, ankles stretched to both sides, and, for the first time in my life, naked in front of a man I didn't know.

Somehow, my cock was rock hard, I couldn't do anything about it.  He tapped the metal scissors against it a couple times.

"Seems like you like this," Randy cooed.

"No.  Uh, I--"

"Are you helpless now?" Randy asked again.

I certainly was, so I nodded, but before I could say "yes, yes I am" Randy shook his head.

 

"Listen," I started.  "Maybe--"  

"It was a question," he said.  "Are you helpless now?"

 

"I think-- yes." I managed and dropped my eyes.  Emotions tore through my head, I was scared, excited, freaked, but somehow my cock was exhibiting another idea altogether. 

He returned to the shelve of gear and selected a large red ball gag, with a leather strap.

"Open your mouth," he demanded.  This wasn't the way he talked a moment ago.  He seemed angry now, and bent on some lesson or another.

"I--" he pushed the ball gag into my mouth, cutting off what I was trying to say.  He secured the leather strap behind my neck and then stepped back.

"Try to get free," he said.  "And yell for help."

I shook at the cuffs on my ankles, pulled wide to both sides.  No give at all.  My wrists were sore, but I couldn't shake my way out.  So I tried to yell.  All that came out was a muffled sob, both because it was all I could emit, and because I now understood.

"Yeah," Randy smiled.  "We're basically soundproof back here anyway.  Okay," he said, tracing a line with the scissors down along my neck, over my left nipple, then further down, pausing just above my hardened cock.  How could it be so hard, I was actually scared!

"Now, you're helpless.  You never, ever get down from where you've allowed me to place you. I can do anything I want to you.  Keep you here for a week, maybe cut you into little pieces and bury you."

 

I yelled into the gag, my eyes were saucers.  I couldn't manage more that a muffled sound.

 

He smiled.  "That's right, who'd know you were ever here?  I gotta think you didn't tell anyone you were coming in for a visit."

No one.  I dropped my eyes.  No one knew I wanted, or needed to come into a place like this. No one, if I disappeared, would ever even think of my being here.

"Here," Randy said.  "Here's something to pass the time with."  He walked to a corner and pulled out a large mirror on a rolling frame.  He positioned it so that I could see myself caught, like a fly in a web, trapped for as long as Randy saw fit.  When I first saw the image of myself, bound up above the ground, gagged and completely helpless, a fresh shudder went through my system.  There I was, stretched into an upside down Y shape.  With no one to blame for my predicament but myself.

"I'll be right back," Randy said.  He disappeared through the door.  

I tried the secure leather again after he left, I even tried to yell Randy's name. I screamed into the gag: all that I could emit were worried grunts, groans and whimpers eventually and I began to believe that I understood my fate...