My experience took place about 15/20 years ago - back when i was still new to bondage and BDSM. i was still very uncertain of myself, and hugely self-conscious about being short, skinny and very very inexperienced - but a wonderful Bondage Top in London took me in His gauntletted hands, and showed me that some Men kinda *like* their boys to be lightweight and easy to lug around...
i made several visits to Him over the years - and He honoured me with many of my best bondage experiences: my first time collared at a Club, my first suspension, my first time in full rubber and bondage, my first experience of electro... He even gave me my first pair of leather chaps - and although He was not a biker, my bondage experiences with Him directly inspired much of the content of my 'The biker: a slave's fantasy' story.
The incident in question was one of the last visits i was able to make with Him. We had previously discussed my fantasies about being kidnapped and forced into complete rubber-surrender - and so He told me to arrive at Paddington Station, and to leave by one of the quieter side entrances...
As i walked through the archway i felt a gloved hand grab my shoulder and arm - a deep rough voice told me to keep my face down and my eyes on the ground - and i was half led, half pushed down an alley to a parked white van. i was told to stop beside it - my wrists where handcuffed and a heavy leather hood was pulled over my head, then i was put into the back of the van and my ankles tied. My 'Kidnapper' made a few checks to make sure i was safely restrained, then drove off with me bumping and groaning in the back...
When we stopped, i was hustled out of the van and into a house - still hooded and cuffed, and loving the disorientation and edge of fear i was feeling. My hands were un-cuffed, and i was told to strip out of my leather - revealing my hidden rubber skin as i did so. i was ordered to close my eyes, and the hood was carefully removed - only to be replaced by a rubber hood, head-harness and blindfold. A chest harness and restraints where then placed upon me, and they were used to fasten me against the wall with my feet spread and my arms strapped behind me: exposed and helpless and still completely unable to see who had captured me or where i was... Through it all i could hear low voices and the sound of a camera - so i knew there was more than one person present, and that my predicament was being recorded.
i was left in the dark to consider my fate for a while. At one point, i was sure that i heard heavy knocking at the front door, and i could hear my captors whispering "ignore it - it'll be kids messing about" - but i thought nothing of it...
After a while my Captor came back; a poppers soaked cloth was held over my gagged mouth and i was forced to take a big hit - sagging into the restraints as the buzz hit me and my head swam - and then, suddenly, out of the darkness, there were hands upon me: touching, exploring, probing, testing - the poppers heightening every touch...
They finally removed me from the wall, i was forced to bend over and i felt something hard against my neck - my hands where pulled in-front of me and rested on the same surface whilst my booted feet where pushed apart - as the locking bars trapped my neck, wrists and ankles i realised i was restrained in a set of wooden stocks.
My captor took advantage of my exposed and helpless arse: using various straps and canes until i was sobbing into the darkness of my hood and desperately trying to pull away - and then He applied a little more, just to make it clear who was in control. i have never felt so utterly helpless; or so turned on.
After a while, i was freed from the stocks - a hand grabbed my collar and i was forcibly pulled into the centre of the room, then forced down onto my knees. A funnel was pushed into the gag and the bitter taste of piss filled my mouth - i was forced to swallow or choke - whilst the camera clicked away beside and behind me.
i was pulled to my feet again - then man-handled over to a low bench and forced to lie down; there was some fumbling, and then i could feel a sleepsack being zipped up and strapped down over my body: sealing me in tight and hard and utterly powerless.
A rubber sheet was put over my head - cutting out my sight whilst the head-harness, gag and blindfold were removed - but they were then replaced by a heavy hooded gasmask with blacked out lenses; i could feel the breathing tubes as they were screwed in tight - one after another - each tube laid across my bound and rubbered body - each one making it harder and harder to breath until i could feel the gasmask sucking tight to my face with each struggling in breath - fighting against the rubber restraints and the tightness of the sleepsack - and my own rising panic. And then i felt most of the tubes removed and i was suddenly breathing freer again; i panted in huge moaning breaths - and only realised that the air was heavily laced with pure poppers when my head began to buzz and the blackness of my vision began to sparkle with lights... i had enough time to get my breath back - and then felt a large capacity rebreathing bag being screwed into the tube and placed on my chest where i could feel it inflate and sag with each breath. i was allowed a few clean breaths just as the air was becoming too stale - and then made to take a deep hit of poppers before the bag was reapplied and i was left to pant and struggle once more.
It was then that He pulled down the zipper on the sack and strapped a PES unit onto me...
i was in rubber-piggy heaven: defeated by the demonstration of His control and my complete powerless - now totally blind and utterly helpless - all final resistance and thought wiped clean by asphyxia and heavy poppers. i was so high i swear i even had an out of the body experience at one point.
But it was about then that the hammering at the door *really* started in earnest.
i was left alone for a moment, and i could hear someone querulously asking 'who is it...?'
And then a very loud and very frightening voice called out: "This is the police - we've had a report that a young man has been kidnapped: open the door NOW or we will break it down...!"
At first i thought it was joke - but the feeling of panic in the room was all too real - as was the sound of several police officers pushing into my Captor's front room and starting to question him about who else was present in the house with Him. i heard the other guy in the playroom leave, and then had to lie there - still bound, still hooded, but trying to be completely silent - whilst they were both told that a woman had seen a young man being bundled into a van outside Paddington station, and that she had taken the registration and phoned the police fearing for his life. They had tracked the van to this address, and wanted to know if either of them knew anything about it...
Finally i heard one of the officers asking what was in the other room (the playroom - where i still was!) - and then there was the sound of heavy boots, a moment of silence, and then:
"Sarge - you'd better get in here - there's some poor kid strapped up a rubber bag in here!"
Talk about friggin panic! This was at a time when kink and SM where less 'out' than they are now - and shortly after the infamous anti-SM Spanner case here in the UK had put several guys in prison. And here i was - fully rubbered, helpless, bound, tripping on poppers - and at the centre of a Police raid!
i heard them ordering my Top back into the room - He was commanded to remove my hood and then i was blinking under brights light and looking up at 3 huge Police officers and their Sargent - all in security gear and high vis and looking *very* disturbed and angry...!
They wanted to know who i was, and my Top tried to answer that i was just a friend - but they cut Him off and demanded i speak.
That has got to be one of the weirdest moments in my life: still bound tight in a rubber sleepsack - my head throbbing from poppers and BC, pickling in my own cooling sweat and piss - lying at the boots of 4 genuine Police Officers and fighting to keep my adrenaline hard-on under control whilst trying to appear perfectly happy and at ease: calmly thanking my Top for taking off the hood, and asking if He was OK - and then very politely (and in my best University educated voice) explaining that these were my very good friends, and that we were simply playing a few games - that i was perfectly well, and very happy - and that i had actually asked (nay, begged) to be allowed to have a jolly old jaunt in the fascinating rubber sack in which i was now lying - and yes, i had family and friends who knew where i was, and really it was all just a *terrible* misunderstanding and i couldn't imagine why the poor old lady could have thought i was being harmed at all - and maybe it had just been a little dark and she had been mistaken in thinking i was being put into the back of the van...?! And i did hope that she was OK - and that really, no one needed to be overly worried at all!
(It's also how i know i am a pervert - because even through the panic and fear a small part of me was still checking out their riot gear and boots... ;) )
Maybe i was still tripping a lttle, but the strange thing was the incredible sense of reversal i felt - how suddenly i went from 'victim' to the one in control, and how strongly i felt the need to get my Top out of trouble - that it was *my* responsibility to persuade the Officers that everything was OK, and that there was nothing worthy of arrests or further questioning. i worked some serious magic - and i guess my persuasive powers must have worked - because after checking a few details and addresses, they finally agreed that everything was OK - and left my Top with only a verbal caution, and the suggestion that any 'games' be kept out of the public view in future.
Needless to say we didn't continue with the scene: we were all shaken up, and my Top was understandably in a terrible state. He told me that He has never done another kidnap scene since - and finds that even the idea now gives Him palpitations... It's a shame, because it was building into being one of the hottest scenes we had done to that point. The other sad thing was that the other guy had desperately destroyed the film in his camera as soon as he knew what was going on, so we also lost all most all of the photos too - other than the few shared here.
Still, it was one hell of an experience - and really quite funny now i look back on it. God knows what those poor police officers thought about it!
Interestingly though, i've never been able to look at a UK Police officer or a High-Vis jacket in quite the same way since... ;)