Chloroform Party

Author: sflthrbd
Title: Chloroform Party
Date: 05 September 2006

Chloroform Party


Mark and I had played before. We met a couple of years ago in an internet chat room called “M4M Kidnapping” and soon discovered that we shared a lot of interests—including leather, tight bondage, and kidnapping roleplays. I also discovered to my delight, that Mark was into knockout scenes.

Over the years, I had played with a number of hot leather tops, many of whom had indulged my fantasy—grabbing me from behind with a leather gloved hand over my mouth as I struggled to get free, then ‘ragging’ me with a popper soaked handkerchief. The poppers would send me flying, and as I breathed in the chemical fumes, my struggles would grow weaker until I dropped to the ground—pretending to be knocked out. I would ‘awaken’ a few minutes later, tied tight and gagged, my dick always rock hard at the thought of being rendered completely helpless, and forced to submit to my captor.

Roleplaying was hot, but I had always wondered what it would be like to truly submit—to have the rag placed over my mouth and smell not the familiar scent of amyl, but rather, the sweet, cloying smell of chloroform. The struggles in this scenario would be real. The knockout would be real. And most of all, the feeling of utter helplessness would be real. Mark actually had experience knocking out guys using chloroform, and offered to use the real deal during an upcoming play session. I enthusiastically accepted his invitation to play, and turned up at his house a week later, in leather chaps, latex codpiece shorts, my Dehners boots, and leather gloves, already hard as I rang his doorbell. I felt incredibly sexy standing there, my leathers making sexy noises every time I took a step or turned.

Mark opened the door, dressed in leather shorts, engineering boots, and leather gloves. He looked great. He also had an easy going manner and told me what to expect once the rag was on my face. We decided that our first session would be a simple one—just to give me the experience of being ragged with the chloroform. He would strap me down to his bondage table in my leathers, put a gas mask on me, and feed me the chloroform through the air intake tube of the mask until I was completely out. The rest of the scene was left as a surprise.

I laid down on his bondage table and watched as he went to his freezer, and retrieved an amber coloured bottle. He brought it over for me to see—it was real. The next few minutes were charged with sexual energy as Mark slowly tied my boots together and pulled them tight to the end of the table. My arms were strapped down at my sides, as were my thighs. He pulled the ropes down tight, and I was barely able to move. He gave my hard dick, straining in it’s latex sheath, a little squeeze—then came over and strapped the gas mask to my face. I felt the straps being pulled tight. Mark pressed down on the mask firmly to make sure it had a good seal. I now heard my breathing through the air intake valve—in and out. In and out. I was in heaven.

Mark pressed his hand over the intake valve and held it there for a few seconds. I couldn’t get any air at all, and I struggled wildly in my ropes, desperately trying to get a breath. Finally he moved his hand away, and I gulped air in deep breathes. It was a control game—he wanted me to know that he was already in charge, and that I was powerless to stop him. And it worked—my dick was hard as a rock in it’s leather prison.

He brought his face close to mine, looking sternly at me through my mask. “You ready to be put out, boy?” “Please, yes, sir,” I gasped desperately. Mark opened the amber bottle and inverted it a couple of times onto a small rag. He leaned over me again and just as he placed the rag over the intake valve, smiled and said “Pleasant dreams, boy.”

I held my breath for what felt like a minute, trying to prolong this moment, this incredible feeling of being completely controlled. It was a last act of defiance—a last attempt at seizing back control. It was also a futile one. I finally expelled my breath. “There you go,” Mark replied. And I looked straight at him as I took my first breath. The smell was more intense than I ever imagined, burning my eyes a little. I closed them tightly and jerked my head away from Mark, yelling at him to stop—that it was too strong. Mark pulled the rag away for a few moments to be sure I was o.k., then reapplied the rag. At the second breath, I blacked out, or at least I lost all memory of what happened. Fortunately, Mark had set up a video camera that was fixed on my face as I was being ragged. I don’t remember those 4 or 5 additional breathes, or Mark talking to me, telling me to look at him as I went further under. Later I would watch as my eyes slowly started to close, eyelids fluttering, as Mark told me one last time to relax, and just breath. A few moments later, I was completely out.

When I awoke, I found myself spread eagled and hooded. It took a long time for me to regain my senses. I had a vague recollection of where I was and what was going on, but continued to feel really drugged and out of it for a good 10 or 15 minutes. All the while, Mark was slowly stroking my cock and balls, which he had bound and stretched, tying the rope to the end of table. As I came out of my stupor, I became aware of the ropes and the hood, of not knowing how I got tied this way. My dick slowly came back to life as I struggled against the ropes. A mask was placed over my face, and I was fed poppers, which combined with the effects of the chloroform, completely fucked me up. I struggled like a wild animal against the ropes as Mark continued milking me. I felt something press up against my exposed butt—cold and slippery. It was a butt plug. As he pressed the rubber intruder into me, my struggles grew even more fierce. The mask was placed over my face again. This time, the smell was different. It wasn’t poppers. It was the chloroform again. Realising what he was feeding me, I cried out to stop. I didn’t want to be knocked out again. Or at least I thought I didn’t. The fumes weren’t so strong this time, and while I resisted, I did feel very relaxed. I had no choice but to take another breath and was almost out for a second time when the mask was pulled away—leaving me drugged and out of it, but still awake. The plug was shoved all the way into me, and I groaned quietly in my chloroformed haze. The stroking of my dick continued and I felt like I was in a state of complete sexual euphoria—on the brink of cumming for 15 or 20 minutes. I finally came, erupting into one of the wildest orgasms of my life, my body convulsing for minutes afterwards as Mark continued to stroke my over stimulated dick.

Mark untied me, let me get my wits about me, and tucked me into bed for the night. We played again the next day (without chloroform), and I promised him that I would be back for another session. A year went by, by last weekend, Mark and I had our second session.

This time around, Mark asked me if it was O.K. to invite along another guy that he had played with in the past, a hot leather top named Steve who also was into KO scenes. I hadn’t met Steve, but was assured by Mark that he would be a hot addition to our play date. I told him the more the merrier—after all, who could resist the thought of two hot leather tops working me over in a KO scene. My mind raced at the possibilities. I didn’t know what Mark was up to, but I suspected that I was in store for something a bit more advanced this time around. Once again, I packed an overnight bag of gear and headed to Mark’s place.

He had moved to a new apartment since our last session, and it took me a while to find his place. When I arrived, Mark told me that Steve would be arriving a little later, which was fine, as it would give us some time to get reacquainted and for me to warm up a little. Mark offered me a drink, which I accepted, half hoping that it had been laced with some sedative and that this was all part of some diabolical plan. With Mark, anything is possible. Since we had some time, Mark offered to give me a tour of his new place, including his new playroom, which was at the back of the house. He flicked the lights on, and I gasped. It was far more fully equipped than the last time we played. A leather bondage sack hung in the corner, along with a leather straight jacket. I immediately imagined myself being strapped into either one by Mark and his hunky friend. And then, to the left side of the room, I noticed it. Mark had bought one of those old fashioned anesthesia machines. It was placed next to a modified reclining chair that had a number of strategically placed straps attached to it.

“Where did you get this?” I asked as I went over to inspect it. “It’s something I picked up on E-bay,” he replied. I haven’t used it yet—I can’t seem to find the nitrous cartridges that go with it. So, it’s more for show than anything else at the moment. I played with the straps on the chair, my dick getting harder again in my leather codpiece pants at the thought of being strapped down to the chair as the mask was pulled down over my face and I heard the ‘hiss’ of the nitrous as it was being administered.

“Want to give it a test ride,” Mark asked evilly. How could I refuse? I got into the chair and Mark deftly strapped my leather gloved hands and forearms to the arm rest, then continued by strapping down my Dehners to the bottom of each side of the chair. Another strap went across my chaps just below my crotch. A final strap went across my chest. I was buckled in tight.

“You’ll have to imagine this with the nitrous,” he said as he placed the mask over my face and pulled the straps tight. I heard the sound of my breathing through the mask, and twisted in the chair, my leathers making a sexy noise against the straps as I imagined the smell of the nitrous, and the struggle to get free before the effects of the gas rendered me helpless. “Mmmmmmm…fuck this is hot” I said to Mark, who was standing a few feet away from me, getting off on my struggles. “You could leave me strapped in here all night,” I replied, grooving on the tightness of the straps.

What I didn’t notice was a leather clad figure coming up from behind the chair—emerging from the back door to the playroom. It was Steve, who had apparently been there the whole time. Mark’s plan was about to be hatched. He quietly flipped a switch that started his video camera, which has been strategically aimed at the bondage chair. I didn’t notice—my eyes had been closed as I writhed in the chair, imagining I was about to be gassed.

Mark’s expression gave nothing away as Steve quietly approached, taking the chloroform bottle out of his leather jacket pocket, opening it, and dousing a cotton ball with the liquid. He placed the cotton ball in the tube of the mask, which had been disconnected from the nitrous apparatus. Two seconds later, the first sweet fumes reached my mask and I groaned as I inadvertently took in my first drugged breath. “Ohhhhhhhh….” I groaned as the drugs hit my brain.

Mark finally smiled, and said, “Matt, I’d like you to meet Steve—he’ll be doing the honors of putting you under this evening.” Steve stepped in front of the chair with the air tube in his hand—the cotton ball visible at the end of it—held in place by a leather gloved hand. I looked up at him—a leather god in skin tight chaps, engineer boots, a harness, leather jacket, and tight leather police gloves. He was so fucking hot. I shook my head, and took another breath. I groaned loudly this time, and tried to rise out of the chair, which of course was useless.

“Too late for that, boy. We’ve got big plans for you. You’ll see once you wake up from your little nap.” Steve looked down at me and placed his other leather gloved hand on the mask and pressed it tight to my face. “You’re fucking hot, boy. You’re getting me hard, just watching you go out. I’m going to have some fun with you—once I get you stripped and tied. Now relax, and take another breath. It’s all over boy—there’s nothing you can do to stop us.” I was so turned on by the scene, by this hot leather guy holding the mask to my face, by the feeling of drugged helplessness. I took another breath. Steve slapped my face lightly to keep me awake. “Are you awake, boy? Boy, can you hear me?” I heard him say, although he seemed to be far away. Another slap on the face and I was roused briefly, and then took another breath. This time, I was out. My head slumped forward and Steve removed the mask. It was time to prep the boy.

I awoke to the feeling of legs being pulled backward. My mouth was sore and dry, and I tried to swallow, but couldn’t as I had been gagged with a ring gag—keeping me from making any intelligible noises, but allowing me to breathe freely. What little moisture existed in my mouth was dribbling down the side of my face. I groaned and tried to move, but strong hands pressed my legs down to the ground. I now realized that my wrists were tied behind me, as were my elbows. In a moment, my boots, which had also been bound with rope, would be cinched behind me in a tight hogtie. When Steve secured the last knot, he got up and slapped my bare ass with his gloved hand. I had been stripped of my leather pants—and was now writhing on the playroom floor in just my boots, gloves, and leather jock.

“Looks like our boy is waking up from his nap,” Steve said as he pressed the toe of his engineer boot into my crotch. I made a gurgling noise and weakly tried to move away from him. He laughed at my sad efforts and crouched down on his knees next to my face, pressing his gloved hand over my nose and mouth. “There’s no escaping now, boy, you should know that by now. All that’s left to decide is who is going to rape that butt of yours first—me or Mark?

“Mmmmmmmmpph” I groaned into his gloved hand as his other hand caressed my bare bottom. He traced the crack of my ass with a finger, finally stopping and pressing it against my butt hole. “Nice and tight—just the way I like ‘em” he said. I felt another sharp slap on my butt, and he got up and walked out of my sight. I heard voices, and assumed that he was discussing plans for me with Mark.”

My head cleared a bit more, and I really started struggling around on the ground—making sexy noises through the ring gag. I heard Mark tell Steve to go over and keep me occupied for a while, and I tensed as the sounds of his boots grew closer to my head, until the toe was being jammed into my gagged face. “What’s the matter, boy, you uncomfortable? Do I need to check your knots?” He crouched down to check the ropes. I heard Mark approaching as well, assuming he would now join in tormenting me. I looked up to see him approach noticing that he had a white rag in his hand. I was going to be knocked out again. I moaned loudly through my gag in protest—but was surprised to discover this rag wasn’t intended for me. It was intended for Steve. There would be two ragged bottom boys tonight—and Steve didn’t know he was next.

Mark moved quickly. Since Steve was on his haunches, it was easy to grab him from behind and get the rag on his face. As one of Mark’s hands clenched Steve’s nose and mouth, the other reached across his midsection. Steve was completely taken off guard and made a “hmmmmmmmph” sound as the rag pressed against his face. Mark simultaneously squeezed his abdomen, which forced Steve to take a deep breath of the fumes.

“You fuck….” Steve screamed into the rag, already dizzy from the first dose of the chemical. Mark then pulled Steve backward, causing him to fall onto his butt, boots and arms in the air as he fell. He took another breath on impact with the floor. “Ummmmpphhh,” he moaned when the second blast of chloroform hit him. Mark wrapped his legs around Steve and pulled him back against him, the rag never leaving Steve’s face. Steve pawed at the Mark’s gloved hand, and almost got the rag off his face, but Mark jerked backward suddenly, which caused Steve to take yet another breath. I watched, still drugged myself, as this hot leather stud wriggled on the floor—his boots scraping the floor as he tried to get up. The leather gloved hand held tight over his face. Steve’s struggles grew weaker. The once powerful leather man who had completely taken control of me—was now the victim. I was so turned on, watching this powerful man slowly becoming powerless. I found myself rooting for Mark—wanting to see him take out this leather stud—just like he did to me. Watch Mark strip him of his leathers, and get him tied and gagged just like me. My dick started to stir.

Steve’s hands dropped to his sides—he was motionless now reduced to a helpless victim—just like I was. Mark got out from under him and looked my way. “Look’s like you’ve got a buddy now—let’s get you two tied together. I want to see you both struggle together when he gets up from his nap.”

“Mmmmmmmmrrrffff” I moaned into the gag as Mark grabbed Steve’s booted feet and dragged him next to me. I watched as the boots were pulled off, then Steve’s chaps. The boots were put back on, leaving Steve in a similar state of undress as me—leather jock, gloves, and boots. I heard the sound of duct tape as Mark wrapped Steve’s boots together, pulling layer over layer them to securing him tightly. He then came around to face me and pulled two fair sized butt plugs from his jacket.

“This will go easier if you’re out of it, boy,” he said as he produced the white rag again and the bottle from another pocket. “Nooooooo….nooooooo” I yelled through the ring gag and writhed on the ground---bumping up against Steve’s lifeless body behind me. Mark ignored my pleas, and pressed the rag over my face. “Trust me,” he said as I gulped in the fumes and the room started to spin. “This will be over soon and you’ll wake up and we’ll have some fun.” His other gloved pinched my nipple, then slid down my stomach to my leather jock—his hand disappearing underneath the waistband to caress my growing cock and balls inside. “Mmmmmmmmm,” I groaned at his touch, gently being groped and drugged at the same time. I gave into the fumes, enjoying the feeling of his gloves squeezing my balls as I took a final breath and passed out for the second time.

Steve’s struggles woke me from my drugged sleep. He had come around before I did—and obviously realized that the tables had been turned on him. He made lots of sexy grunting noises, and his struggles were jerking me around too. I felt the butt plug, pressed deep into me and filling my tight hole. I assumed that Steve had been plugged too. I wish I had been awake for that—seeing the tough leather guy getting his hole plugged—unconscious and unable to fight. My hands were now taped at my side. Steve and I were attached with tape and rope at our boots, knees, waists, and shoulders. As I shook off the effects of the chloro, I started getting off on feeling his hard butt twisting against mine. My leather jock had been removed—so I was now naked except for my boots and what felt like a plug gag that had a breathing tube through the middle of it. At some point, Mark came over, and straddling both of us, used one hand to start stroking both of our dicks. It was an amazing feeling, knowing that Steve was feeling the same thing—the same helplessness, the same sexual charge as his dick was played with. This went on for some time. I could have stayed that way all night.

After a while, all the stroking and the struggling was bringing both of us close to climax. Mark stopped suddenly and walked away from us. We both shouted into our gags in protest—wanting to cum, wanting to get the butt plugs out. Mark returned quickly with two painter’s masks, which we pulled over both of our faces. Grunting and struggling, we both watched as he placed a wet cotton ball in each mask, then straddled us again to finish us off. I held off taking a breath for as long as possible—dreading the smell of the chloro for a third time. When I finally took in some air, the chemical smell hit hard—but it wasn’t chloroform, it was amyl. A rush of heat went to my head and I jerked around violently, taking in breath after breath of the poppers and thrusting my dick into Mark’s lubed hand. Steve was making similar noises and was also bucking his hips wildly. We were both in sexed out, drugged heaven. Mark increased the pace of his strokes, and within seconds, I heard Steve scream loudly into his gag and then convulse in wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure. Feeling him climax, bound to me as he was, was the last straw for me, and I also shouted into my gag and shot a huge load across the playroom floor---still gulping in poppered air through the mask, and feeling like I was about to pass out again.

Mark finally removed the masks, and I gulped in fresh air. The gags were removed, and I felt tape being cut away from our ankles. Soon all the ropes were off, and I turned over to Steve and we embraced each other, both of us shaking from the entire experience.

It took a couple of hours to get our wits about us again, but after we had showered and got back into our leathers, Mark suggested we watch the video that he took of the entire scene. We sat in his living room, Mark between us, witnessing everything that happened to us while we were unconscious. It was so hot, seeing myself being carried by these two hot leather guys, getting taped, being plugged, and not remembering any of it. My dick was coming to life again and I glanced over at Steve who was also rubbing his crotch with his gloved hand. We exchanged knowing glances at one another—it was showtime.

At first I started innocently groping Mark, tweaking a nipple, squeezing his dick through his leather shorts. We all continued watching the video, and started unbuttoning his shorts. When my hand found his dick, it was so already so hard that it practically popped out of his shorts. I reached around Mark’s neck, and pulled him toward me, clamping my gloved hand over his mouth, then releasing him to kiss him, squeezing his hard dick with my other hand the entire time.

Mark was so caught up in what I was doing to him that he didn’t notice Steve had gotten up. When I heard Steve’s boots heading back toward the living room, I reached around Mark’s neck and clamped my gloved hand over his mouth tightly, and slowly pull him backward on the sofa toward me, my hard dick grinding into his tight butt. “Mmmmmmm…mmmm.mmmm” he protested as I whispered in his ear—“Guess what--It’s payback time.” I wrapped my legs around Mark and kept him pinned on the sofa, getting off on all his sexy struggling and gagged moaning just as Steve returned with the amber bottle and rag. Mark was struggling like a maniac now, making all sorts of sexy noises through my gloved hand. He knew what was coming.

Steve climbed on top of us, sandwiching Mark in the middle as he clamped the rag on Mark’s face with one hand, while squeezing Mark’s dick with the other.

“Take him out slowly,” I told Steve. “I want to torment him a bit before he goes out.” Mark moaned through the rag and took his first breath, and I knew what he was feeling at that very moment. He was about to have a very fun time.