More Than He Bargained For 2_ The Doctor Knows Best · Part 2

More Than He Bargained For 2_ The Doctor Knows Best · Part 2 (2/2)
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When he recovered from the mind-blowing flash that had been his orgasm, Hans felt Tanya set him free, and she cuddled against him. God, he felt good! He didn't know whether he loved or hated that woman! Instantly, he knew he had to see her again. He was hooked, addicted!

“So, Hans, want Doctor Tanya to take care of you again? You know, you are far from cured, and you have much progress to make, and the longer the session, the better it gets. Unfortunately, my fee is not reimbursed by social security, or not yet, so, in light of that, 2 full days would not cost you four times as much as a 12-hour night. Think about it, and let me know.”

Part 3

Hans had never had sex like that. Beautiful Tanya had taken him on roller coaster rides, not once but twice, that were much more intense than he would ever had imagined. Intense pain, intense fear, intense powerlessness. But also oh-so-intense pleasure! Not once, but twice, too. Hans was determined to repeat this experience. Tanya, the Russian psychiatrist turned escort was more than happy to oblige. She had much rather tie up Hans than have sex with men who tried to cram as much of it in one-hour sessions as possible.

So she was happy to give Hans her personal e-mail and to suggest that their next meeting should be both long, and private, meaning not organized through her escort agency. That meant that Hans would have to provide the invitation and plane ticket that was a pre-requisite for her to get a visa. However, as she would no longer need to give 50% of what Hans paid to her agency, the total cost would still be lower than previously. She teased that it would actually get lower on a per-day basis as the meeting got longer. But Hans also needed to factor in some money for “toys” that she would bring, including a real straightjacket, all of which, she promised, he would find “interesting”. Hans was no longer thinking carefully, his dick was in charge. His only thought was “Wow! If one night was so intense, how much more can he experience in a 2-day, no, 3-day session? And why not 4 or 5 days?”

The money was not an issue, as what, to him, was affordable meant a year's doctor's salary for Tanya. So they settled on 4 days, including a week-end and a holiday. How soon could Tanya swing it? Well, it would take Hans a few days to get her the money, which he would send by Western Union, then the invitation for the visa, via DHL, as regular mail was unreliable in Russia, and mailboxes were often broken into to steal whatever looked foreign, and thus promising. As for work, Tanya had no problem. Her boss would be happy to overlook her absence if she slipped him $50. He had to make ends meet as well, and could hardly qualify for Tanya's “other work”.

He would also be happy to let her take whatever she fancied from the hospital supplies at cost plus a commission, which in Hans' world, was ridiculously cheap. No, the only delay would be in getting the visa, which would take around one month. And, as soon as she had it, she would confirm her plane ticket.

Hans suddenly had doubts about sending her the money in advance. After all, she was a hooker, right? Was he really going to trust her to come once he'd sent her a sizable sum? Suddenly he saw how ridiculous this question was, and laughed out loud. Just one hour ago, he had trusted Tanya with his life, as he lay totally helpless and it had been in her power to do anything she wished to him. Or nothing. And now he was about to trust her with 4 days of his life when she could again do as she wished because a straightjacket would keep him as obedient as she wanted. So he agreed to her terms, and they parted with the promise to meet again soon.

Hans was so fascinated with what had just happened and so drawn to what would happen that he kept his part of the bargain as quickly as he could. Just thinking about it, and looking at her pictures on the agency website made him hard. He also began to bone up on straightjacket bondage, and saw that many considered it the most comfortable solution for really long term bondage, like overnight; But he did not see any literature or stories for a 4-day straightjacket session. Obviously she wasn't going to keep him in bondage for 4 days. That would be crazy, right?

Eventually, the month came and went, Tanya advised him that she had gotten her visa without trouble, because, as she put it, “as a doctor, with a job, she had a profile that didn't raise red flags”, and she confirmed her plane ticket. Hans offered to pick her up at the airport, and was surprised to read her response that he would receive other instructions.

Hans began to feel that that “he had been had”. Why would she not want him to pick her up at the airport, which would save her a cab fare, as she did not feel safe in public transport, a very common feeling among Russian girls? But, on the day he was going to write her a nasty e-mail, he got one from her, instructing to expect a package from Russia, “that was too large and heavy for her to carry”. Sure enough, DHL showed up with a large carton marked “hospital supplies”. He paid for shipment, but, despite his intense curiosity, did not open it, because she had instructed him to do so only one hour before she was due to arrive, on penalty of her canceling the session. Was it another trick?

So, as instructed, on the Friday of her arrival, he returned home early from work, having eaten lightly and hydrated well, but without alcohol to relieve the butterflies in his stomach. He showered, and, as per her e-mail, opened the mysterious package she had shipped him. It contained multiple items, but he had been ordered to only remove the top one, and informed that, should he contravene this, she would notice and severe punishment would ensue, as this would show that he did not trust Doctor Tanya. Predictably, on top lay the straightjacket. It was not white, like the Posey or Humane Restraint ones he'd found on the Net, but off-green, and, also unlike US designs, had a collar.

It was also obviously not new, neither as stiff nor as heavy as he'd been led to expect from his readings. And it had a couple of curious “tails” hanging from the body of the jacket. Though he didn't read Russian, Hans understood with the pictures that the “tails” were to attach the ankles -his ankles actually- to the device.

Tanya wrote that she had tied the jacket (it laced closed rather than strapped, like US designs) loosely enough, and left the collar open, that he could don it by himself. Before he did this, he was to gag himself, plug his ears and blindfold himself, and do it tightly or face the consequences. Then he should go to the door, which he should leave open so that she could enter without his help, turn his back to it, don the jacket, squat on his haunches, attach the tails to his ankles despite his hands being inside the sleeves, and then thread his arms through the front and side loops, in the standard straightjacket position. He was instructed to lie on his front, his as yet unbound arms hugging his torso. Such was the end of the instruction note.

Hans felt beyond ridiculous. He was supposed to tie himself up and leave the door open, for anyone to come in? What if it wasn't Tanya? What if her plane was late, which was not uncommon, of if she had trouble getting a cab, or if there was a traffic jam? How long was he going to wait for her? Besides, with the blindfold on, he wouldn't know what time it would be, and when he should consider this ridiculous charade over.

But then, he had been waiting for too long, had fantasized too much about this dream meeting, with the gorgeous Russian beauty who knew how to push his buttons so much better than he ever imagined. And who had established who was boss. So he submitted to her will, and followed her instructions. The door. The earplugs. The gag and the blindfold, buckled tight. The straightjacket, which he just managed to slip into. The ankle tails, which he put on tightly. The arms and sleeves through the front and side loops, and around his chest. Then onto the floor. And prepared for the one-hour-long wait. At least one hour, if all went according to plan, which it rarely does on international travel. And if not, he would just be a front contender for “idiot-of-the year”.

As he was thinking along those lines, and trying to find a more comfortable position, to avoid his arms pushing into his chest and constricting his breathing, he heard noise behind him, felt a rush of “something”, cold air on his bare legs, and, before he could react to this totally unexpected information, there was somebody sitting on his back, pinning him to the floor and his arms under his chest. Acting on instinct he tried to turn around and face his attacker, but couldn't, not having the use of his arms. And before he could recover that, he felt them pulled tightly behind him. He pulled back, trying to get them loose, only to realize that whoever was sitting on his back had lost no time in lacing the two sleeves to one another, and his arms were no longer his to use.

He was now well and truly straightjacketed. But his attacker wasn't done. Now that he no longer had the use of his arms, Hans was helpless in preventing the lace at the back of the jacket from being pulled tight, until the straightjacket gripped his whole torso very firmly from neck to pelvis. The high collar was closed on his throat, snugly but really tightly.

Hans was desperately trying to get free, the attack having nothing to do with the planned roleplay with Tanya. But the lack of eyesight, hearing and the use of his arms was too much for him to have any chance. The gag also prevented him from crying out for help, and restricted his breathing which further broke his resistance. It had barely lasted a minute, and he was well and truly hogtied! What the hell had happened to him???

Hans was in shock, having been assaulted well before Tanya had any hope of getting there, and she was on a plane ticket which he had bought and which couldn't be modified. On the plus side, however, it could hardly be an ordinary break-in. First, how would anyone know he had left the door unlocked? Then how many common burglars would expect to find unsuspecting victims in a straightjacket on the floor of their homes, and instantly react to this by effectively lacing them tightly into the unforgiving device, all this without missing a beat or making a sound? So what was happening? Had Tanya decided to cunningly introduce yet more unexpected circumstances into their “play”? He would soon find out, wouldn't he?

Except that, as he expected the next phase to unfold, nothing happened. No sound, no movement, at least as much as he could be aware of in his earplugged, blindfolded state. Nothing. As though the attack had been a figment of his overworked imagination. Or had it been? Not if his forced immobility was anything to go by. Dreams and nightmares don't result in one waking up hogtied, right? But being straightjacketed and hogtied in one's own home by an unknown attacker, without anyone apparently there to take up where the attack left off, that is definitely as close to a nightmare as they come.

By now Hans had every reason to believe that he was alone. Alone and lost, because he had no idea what could have happened. Was it Tanya? How could it be anyone other than Tanya? But then how could it be her, a full hour before she was supposed to arrive? Hans decided that nothing said that he couldn't free himself. Actually, wouldn't it be sweet if he freed himself, and then Tanya showed up?

Hans began to struggle. After all, Houdini had managed many escapes from straightjackets, so why not him? Besides, Russian quality might not be that effective, and the jacket wasn't new. He rolled on his side and pulled on his arms. They weren't held desperately tightly behind his back, so he found he could move his forearms quite a bit, until his wrists almost slipped past the center loop. Good, so it wouldn't be that difficult to get out of it, after all!

But Hans found out that arm mobility doesn't help getting out of a straightjacket. Yes, he could move his forearms, but to what effect? His hands could still grip nothing. He tried getting hold of a knot, either at the end of a sleeve, or behind his back, and found that he couldn't. He cursed himself for not having examined the straightjacket in detail while he could have. And now, hogtied and blindfolded, there was nothing he could do to see what he was doing, or should be doing.

Having failed at opening his way to freedom, Hans tried brute force. The straightjacket hadn't looked that heavy and strong when he handled it and donned it. He inflated his chest, and pulled on both arms with all his might. To no result at all. Not all Russian products were low quality, apparently. That was when Hans remembered how many political opponents had been locked up in insane asylums at the time of the Soviet Union, and how straightjackets were used in the infamous gulag according the Solzhenitsyn. With that much use, it was obvious that the straightjackets had been tested all the way to total effectiveness.

That is what he found when trying to get the straightjacket off his back. The center and side loops kept his arms where they were intended to be, and the tails connected to his ankles prevented the jacked from being lifted over Hans' torso. If he couldn't slip it off, could he get his arms out? All the more so as he could move them inside his sleeves. He pulled his arm inside the sleeve, but soon his elbow got stuck, and try as he might he couldn't raise it enough; The Russian design, with a tight fit at the top, ending with a collar, was much closer-fitting than the Posey or Humane Restraints, and it soon dashed any hopes Hans entertained that he could get his arms out like Houdini. He was well and truly helpless.

How crazy is that, to be straitjacketed in one's home, by an unknown attacker taking advantage of one's own plans, and then abandoned like a sack of potatoes, helpless and alone, a hogtie preventing any escape, a blindfold blocking out any sight of what could help getting out of this situation, a gag muffling any cry for help into ineffectiveness?

That is when Hans noticed that he was hard….

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More Than He Bargained For 2_ The Doctor Knows Best · Part 2 (2/2)
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