Date: Sat, 22 May 2010 10:45:31 -0400
From: jester <whataboutjester@gmail.com>
Subject: ian's snatch, chapter 3

coding:
gay/authoritarian
m/m, bondage, rubber, sleepsack, steel, hot/cold

Ian's snatch
Chapter 3

"yeah reg, it's done.  we'll be back in about an hour."

that's the reason why ian had gone forward with the packaging of his catch
so quickly.  with a drive back from the club that would last upwards of an
hour, ian had figured it much easier to package his catch up immediately, so
as to avoid any unwanted small talk or potentially giving any insight as to
his intentions.

ian had chatted david up at the bar, and he knew that the boy was looking
for a more...extreme, experience.   ian had pulled out some other useful
information during the conversation.  the boy was a single child living with
his parents, but they had left for a two week vacation to the mozambique the
previous morning.  they'd be out of the picture for at least that long.  the
boy was attending community college, but the spring semester had just
finished, and he wouldn't have class until the next month.  he was looking
for something more, and in ian, he thought he might have found that
something.

so, yes, the boy was willing, and yes, he was interested, but he may well
have bit off much more than he anticipated.

***

lost in a mass of rubber, and without a means of expressing himself
verbally, david was deep in thought.  'how long has he been here? how much
longer would he be here? why the hell was he tasered?  who was 'reg'?'

physically, his body heat was radiating inside the thick gauge rubber
sleepsack.    there were no pores for the heat to escape from, and the
thickness of air, polluted by sweat and the heavy scent of rubber was deep
in his throat.

even so, david was quite thankful that the material ended at his neck, that
his head was only covered by the significantly thinner, much more breathable
spandex.

***

"we're here" was all ian said as he'd backed into the carhold.

in this case, here was an out of the way parcel of land in the middle of
what james carville would call alabama.  they were about an hour outside of
even the suburbs, and completely off the radar.   being so far out of the
way gave ian and his partner a level of freedom when dealing with packages
such as the one ian had just brought home.

with a little effort, ian had hoisted the package onto his shoulders, and
had maneuvered it through the main domicile and down the stairs into the
basement.

though the house was a modest sized cottage, the basement was a work of
art.  there were 5 rooms, spread out over an area 3 times as large as the
visible upper floor.  there was a prison cell, a full bathroom, complete
with a 360 degree shower, a sauna, a master bedroom, and a proper dungeon.

the bathroom is where ian was headed to unwrap his package.

with a stern warning, ian went to remove the headgear.  now wasn't the time
for the package to speak up, but to prep the body, the head really did need
to be exposed.

next up was the stripping of the sleepsack.  the boy was clearly awake, and
this was the riskiest part of the operation, so ian left for a second, and
came back into the room holding a taser, warning the boy, "if you resist,
you ~will~ feel this again.  do we have an understanding?"

the boy nodded, eager to be stripped of the heavy rubber prison that had him
sweating bullets.

with the sleepsack unzipped, the room filled with a heavy musk, an
intoxicating combination of warm rubber and heavy b.o.  the sudden change in
temperature made the boy's chest hair stand up.  noticing this, ian eased
the boy, with a quick pet, promising a warm shower in a minute.

getting back to his work, ian was pleased to see that the leg bindings had
held up, since it would make the next step quicker.

after a second away in another room, ian returned with two pairs of steel
shackles.  pulling the boy's arms clear out of the sleepsack, there was no
fight as ian put the boy's arms into the metal cuffs, and none as he fit
shackles onto the boy's swollen ankles, releasing the 4 rubber strips that
had bound the boy's legs.

ian left the boy in a heap on the bathroom floor to get some lengths of
chain from the dungeon next door.  on return, he found the boy in the same
position, having not moved an inch.

with a little coaxing, ian maneuvered the boy into the shower.  he used two
lengths of chain to secure each leg to opposite sides of the shower, and
then another to raise the boy's shackled hands towards the ceiling, so he
was stretched both vertically and horizontally.  the boy's body was slack
against the chain, and though his feet were comfortably on the ground, he
hung from the ceiling as if he were unconscious.

ian had to laugh to himself.  a shower would do the boy good.  not so much
this one, but he didn't know that yet.

this was a 360 degree shower, yes, but what made it especially terrific was
the programs ian had put into it.  the one david was about to take started
at a modest 110 degrees fahrenheit, then gradually chilled down to 45
degrees before going back up to 140.

ian took a seat on the throne, and waited for the boy to perk up.

***

david's mind was reeling coming out of that rubber prison.  he'd played
soccer throughout highschool, and had had bouts of heat exhaustion once or
twice on really hot days, but that wasn't like this.  his whole body was
shut down after getting out of that sleepsack, and though the shower was
nice, all david wanted was to curl up in bed and go to sleep for about half
a day.

though he may have been out of the loop, david was just lucid enough to make
a few observations.  his shoulders were starting to ache from being hung
from the ceiling.  his fists were still bound and at this point, virtually
useless.  they were stretched to the ceiling and confined very snugly by a
pair of metal cuffs.   his legs were stretched toward opposite sides of the
shower, though not uncomfortably, by a similar pair of cuffs.  and he could
swear that the water was getting colder.

another couple of minutes, and he was a little more lucid, and a little more
sure that the water ~was~ getting colder.

in fact, it was getting a little too cold.   hesitant at first, david spoke
up.  "hello.  um.  ian.  i think i'm ready to, um, come out of here now."

"62 degrees.  not awful, but you've got a ways to go."

david was starting to realize that ian wouldn't be much help from this point
forward.

after another 10 minutes and 10 degrees, the boy was full on shivering.  it
would be another half hour before those shivers would stop.  the only saving
grace was that at its coldest, the spray had turned from thick beads, to a
fine mist.

but that presented a whole new problem when the water temperature would not
stop rising.  again, david spoke up, but again, ian brushed off his
inquiry.   and again, it was a half hour before the discomfort had subsided,
though this time, the water shut off completely.

"it's good for you.  the hot water will open your pores, and get you ready
for the next step."


*****
for a preview of chapter 4, see myspace.com/whataboutJESTER