Boys in Boxes, Chapter 1

James, Box 00

It looked like this guy got up to some seriously heavy bondage, hot enough to meet up and see where things go... even if he didn't have any references and a “new profile” warning. Maybe the guy just wasn't a very techy person, James thought. It seemed worth a meet-up. Besides, I’m being safe about it, he told himself, shooting off a quick message asking to meet for lunch.

Three hours, two glasses of wine, and an incredible conversation with a very charismatic man later,  James stood in the man's living room in a 0.6mm neck entry catsuit with attached gloves and toe socks and an open cock hole. His cock was rigid and pulsing, sealed in the latex of the sheath shorts he had on under the suit, his ass clenching the plug uncontrollably. It was slightly larger than he was used to. Over the suit, his gloved hands had been well lubed and worked into padded rubber fist mitts. The whole setup was clearly promising an intense scene, something he’d desperately awaited after a months-long dry spell.

James shuffled back and forth, adjusting to the large plug while he waited for the man to come back into the room. The house was pretty spartan, but it was nice and seemed recently renovated, in a cheap sort of way. It reminded him of Airbnbs he’d stayed in, other than the large padded black slab on the floor covered in bondage straps. The man returned with an extremely heavy rubber sleepsack covered in dangling belts and straps. The sleepsack had to be 2 or even 3 millimeters thick.

James, being no stranger to heavy bondage, was more than eager to climb into the heavy sleepsack, now laid upon the cushioned pad. He watched as the man dumped lube into the sleepsack and rubbed it into the latex. James crawled in, guiding his mitted hands into the sleeves, wriggling his legs down into the foot of the sack. The latex pulled tight as the man slid the zip up to his neck, not too tight, but snug against his throat. He squirmed, sliding around in the slimy, lubey sleepsack, his latex encased cock grinding into the sleepsack's interior as he reveled in the feeling of his near-total encasement.

The man gently pressed foam ear plugs into one of James’ ears, then the other. The last thing he saw was the man's face, smirking down at him as a thin black rubber hood slid over his face. It had no zippers and no eyes but was open around the nose and mouth. A much heavier rubber hood followed quickly after. He was startled by the man shoving soft, well lubed rubber tubes deep into James' nose. His complaints were more like yelps of surprise cut quickly short by retching and gagging as the tubes went further down his throat than he thought possible. As soon as the tubes were seated, the mask was pressed into his face and zipped closed. Just as he was struggling to cope with his new intubated state, a zipper was pulled down the back of his head and neck, forcing the hood to pull tighter. This compressed every part of his face and head, forcing the nose tubes deeper into him.

James panted and sputtered, catching his breath from what had just happened before being able to say "hey man I need you to take this hoo-aGMMh." The man forcefully pried his jaw open with one hand as he shoved a silicone dildo deep in James' throat. Or at least, that's what he had thought it was as it sank deep into his throat, against his best efforts to expel the intruder. The gag was moulded to completely fill his mouth, shaped to fit his teeth, with a slot to hold his tongue in place, a long thick segment stretching his throat, causing him to wretch against it as he tried to adjust to the intrusion, jaws pressed open. The gag tapered slightly as it extended down his throat, stretching it, his throat muscles spasming around it. A strap tightened around the gag and another strap was then tightened over the top of his head, preventing him from opening his mouth around the gag, painfully straining his jaws open. Only able to breathe through his nose, but unable to even feel the air rushing through him, he’d never felt so helpless in his life.

James started to panic, both at how deeply tubed he was and at how this man had just done all of this to him without his consent. He thrashed around in the sleepsack, trying to make clear he wanted out. Suddenly, he felt the man's strong hands flipping him roughly onto his stomach. His ankles and neck were quickly strapped to the bondage board, preventing him from rolling back over. The man then straddled his torso, restraining him even further. James struggled, eventually calming down a bit as he shifted his focus  to getting enough air through the nose tubes, face down in this new predicament. He had worked up a heavy layer of sweat inside of the catsuit now. The rear port on the sleepsack opened, cool air on his ass. He tried to let out a curious moan but it seemed to come out as a choked whimper at best, the gag and tubes making it seemingly impossible to activate his vocal chords. There was some fiddling at his plugged ass, then, just as quickly as the first time, the sleepsack was closed, his neck and ankles were released, and he was flipped on his back again.

This time though, he was being strapped down tightly with strap after strap starting at the ankles, working up his body. When the straps reached his neck, he could hardly squirm an inch. The man continued to wrap belts around him endlessly, squeezing him tightly, hooking the belts into the platform, pulling him into the plush padding tighter and tighter. His neck was fitted with a tall posture collar, forcing his head up. Next, his neck was strapped down to the padded surface and a series of rubberized pads were used to fix his head in place. Then, deafening white noise flooded out what little hearing he had left, the pads compressing his head into place having built-in headphones perfectly positioned to James' plugged ears.

There was nothing left that James could move. That is, nothing except for his rigid, throbbing sheathed dick. He'd not gone soft through the entire ordeal. In fact, as the bondage had become more and more complete, he had become more and more worked up about his predicament. Sure, the guy was crossing some lines, but had they discussed it prior, James would have loved to get into this exact predicament. He'd just rather have known where it was going before now.

The scene continued into a blissful, multi-hour edging scene that was more intense than anything James had ever experienced. He couldn't move or communicate at all, unable to even grunt with his vocal chords bypassed by the tubes. He was drenched in sweat, trapped in the layers of latex encasing him. The man was an expert at keeping him on the edge, more desperate than he'd ever been in his life. Despite the questionable start to the scene, James was really glad he'd met up with this guy, whatever his name was.

A sudden stabbing pain in the tip of his dick caused him to aggressively tense in his bondage as a catheter entered his cock. He would have yelped in shock and pain if it was possible. Instead, he choked on the gag in his throat, hardly making a sound. It slowly sank deeper into him until it was in his bladder, inflated, and crimped. His dick remained rock hard, throbbing painfully with the catheter sticking out of its rubber tip. Once he got over the initial shock, it was almost relieving to know there weren't any more holes left to plug or tube.

The man was no longer playing with him. There was a lot of movement about. Fiddling with the gag, something with the catheter, then a series of thunks and thuds followed by heavy metallic clamps snapping shut. Then, silence. Nothing happened for a while, then another while. James tried to get the man's attention a few times, increasingly panicked. So terribly tubed, restrained, and encased, he was desperately reaching for confirmation that he could escape this horny but heavy predicament.

After what must have been multiple hours and a whole panic and struggle fit later; screaming into the gag, producing pathetic choked nothings. James was screaming and thrashing, only to make himself sweat more, his discomfort was rising along with his heat index. Eventually, he calmed down, gently sobbing into the rubber hood at his pathetic state. When would that man come back? Where had he gone? What was all that motion around him? Did he plan to leave him here overnight? Was that what the catheter was for?

James fell asleep at some point, waking with a jolt, choking on his gag again before regaining some semblance of where he was at the moment. He couldn’t have been asleep for long, but it must be late now and he was starting to feel hungry. He felt the vibrations of someone messing with the board he was strapped to. After a few minutes of this, several things happened at once. The most noticeable was the suction applied to the sleepsack and suit, pulling sweat out of his encasement and squeezing everything tighter. His long flaccid, catheterized cock quickly hardened at this. James groaned. he'd been repeatedly denied for what must have been hours but, at this point, he just wanted out, orgasm or not. He suddenly noticed his ass was filling up with warm liquid. The pressure built before eventually releasing. He was being cleaned out, managed really. This realization was quickly confirmed as he realized he was being fed who-knows-what as his stomach inflated, creating a feeling of fullness. The pressure on the sleepsack and suit released, leaving him a full feeling in his stomach as he was fed through the tube into his stomach.

To James' horror, he realized that this setup wasn't just designed for heavy play. It was designed for long term confinement. His wastes were being drained by the catheter and taken by the enema, which filled and drained him several times. He was being fed directly into his stomach by the long tube down his throat with who knows what. His only indication of this was a sudden feeling of fullness. It may be a hot idea to read about, but now he was living it in full and without reservation. He had no way of knowing how long he was going to be kept there -- and to think, he had never agreed to more than a night of play in the first place.

There was no way to know when the feeding ended. He simply felt fuller now. It was then he realized he'd never felt thirsty since getting into the sleepsack despite the gallon he must have sweat out. He'd been getting liquids this whole time. He'd never needed to pee either. The catheter had passively taken care of that without him ever feeling a thing. Then, for a long time, there was nothing again.

Hours had clearly passed. James had fallen asleep and woken up in storage again and again, an endless cycle of rubber encapsulation and horniness. Occasionally he squirmed, sometimes he whined and moaned, often he writhed in an attempt to stretch his stiff limbs. None of it achieved anything and that only served to fuel James' despair.

Suddenly moving, James was jolted from yet another cycle of sleep. He had no concept of how much time had passed, but he assumed it must be the next day by now. He moaned weakly, or tried to anyway, a pathetic croak coming from him. Not that he could hear it through the headphone's deafening white noise. There was a lot of moving. At times, James tried to remain still and calm, other times he thrashed to absolutely no avail. He just became heated, sweaty, out of breath, and... hard again from the failure of his efforts.

The moving changed a few times before settling on what James was certain was the vibration and swaying of highway cruising in a car. The ride was excruciatingly long, both because the ride took hours and because he was agonizing over what he had gotten himself into. The invasive gear, the prolonged bondage, all without his consent? That had all been one thing. This? This unplanned and nonconsensual road trip was terrifying. His cock throbbed and leaked around the catheter. He writhed in pleasure, squeezing the plug. He groaned in fear, dreading his destination.

James' box, labeled 00, was placed in a locked, windowless storage area in the corner of a private aircraft hangar at a small, private air strip a 6-hour drive from where he was first bound in his box. The box was connected to a reservoir of liquid food that could last him a week, electricity, water, and a sewer hookup for waste were also included. The hookups failed to include his piss, which was being collected directly into a nondescript separate refrigeration unit labeled PS, small but matching his gimp box. The gimp would be waiting for days as the rest of the new gimps were collected for their upcoming flight to their new lives.