Drugged

Author: Eddie
Title: Drugged
Date: 30 April 2018

Found this story ages ago, a favourite of mine.

All credit to the original author


We cruised each other in a leather bondage chat room. Your name is Dave. You were handsome, muscular, a leather top into boots, gloves, bondage. You liked to push limits, making a bottom completely helpless. Getting off on the struggle, hard core bondage, hoods, gags. Stroking your victim’s body as he groaned and tried in vain to get free.

Soon, I had confessed my darkest fantasies to you—that I wanted to be captured—tied up against my will by a hot leather top who planned to make me his leather sex toy. I would struggle as you grabbed me and attempted to get me tied tight. And I wanted to experience the ultimate in helplessness—I wanted you to knock me out. Grab me from behind with a chloroform soaked rag until I was completely out, then carry me to your playroom where I would wake up bound and gagged, and be kept drugged and helpless for an entire weekend.

I’m thrilled when you think my fantasy is hot, and that you’d love to take me down. Since neither of us has access to chloroform, we agree to a roleplay session—using poppers or ethyl chloride. We set a play date for Friday. I figure the fantasy is almost as good as the real thing—still wanting though to really be ragged someday. You instruct me to arrive at your house in full leather, and devilishly suggest that I not make plans for the rest of the weekend. My dick is rock hard as I read your instructions. Friday can’t come soon enough.

On Friday night, I stand outside your house in my leathers, about to ring your doorbell, and having that adrenaline rush that you get when you’re about to have a leather scene with someone for the first time. What will you do to me once you finally overpower me and get me tied? Will I be here all weekend? What limits will you push? I swallow hard and press the bell. You open the door and you look hot in head to toe leather—codpiece pants that hug your beefy thighs and muscular butt, Chippewas, a leather vest, and skin tight leather police gloves. You invite me to your media room—giving me a drink and telling me to relax. You put on a leather bondage porn, and tell me to watch it while you take care of a few things.

You seem to be gone for quite awhile, but the drink is relaxing me. My mind starts to wander—could this drink by spiked? I taste it again and decide that it isn’t. The images on the screen get my cock nice and hard. I stroke it through my leather pants, oblivious to the sound of you approaching behind me. You come up suddenly, wrapping your arm around my head, and clamping a leather gloved hand over my mouth. I cry out in surprise, reaching for your hand. You pull my entire body backward, pressing me tightly against you.

You whisper in my ear—“You’re a hot little leather boy, aren’t you? Well, I’m gonna fuck you up real good, boy. Get you tied up, gagged, helpless.” Your gloved hand is clamped over my mouth ever so gently—seductively. You push one, then two fingers into my mouth, and I feel that I should resist, even though the smell of your leather glove and the sound of your voice has my dick ready to explode. I moan into your hand softly and squirm against it. You press down harder on my mouth and cover my nostrils too, and whisper, “Oh, do we have a fighter—are you going to fight me, boy? Because I really don’t think that’s going to do anything other than get me really turned on, because you’re not going anywhere boy.”

Your words ignite my fantasy, and I moan loudly into your gloved hand and I begin to struggle wildly to get up. I imagine that I must fight you—that I can’t let you tie me up, because once you do, I’m fucked. My boots are kicking wildly as I try to stand, but you simply move in closer and pull me backward toward you—your other arm wrapped around my midsection.

“You’re making me hot, boy. I love the sound of a muffled cry for help. It’s futile really—I’m bigger and stronger than you boy. And I also have a little surprise for you that’s gonna fix all that sexy struggling pretty damn quick.”

“This is it,” I think to myself—the popper soaked rag. He’s going to fuck me up on poppers, then once I can’t fight him off, get my hands tied behind my back. Then I’m done for. I scream wildly into his leather gloved hand. “It’s no use, boy—give it up.”

He takes his hand off of my mouth for a second and I beg to be let go. I tell him that I’ve changed my mind and I don’t want to go through with it. But my words are quickly muffled by his gloved hand again, this time with a popper soaked handkerchief also pressed against my nose and mouth. I hold my breath, trying not to take that first breath, trying to postpone the inevitable. Dave reaches down and grabs my dick—which is rock hard. “I don’t think you’ve changed your mind at all, boy. At least your dick hasn’t. So, sorry, it’s nap time…and later, it’s gonna be party time. Pleasant dreams, boy.”

I struggle wildly now—one last ditch effort to break free from his grip. Dave laughs evilly behind me. “That’s it, boy, struggle for me. I like it when a boy struggles. I like it when he thinks he can escape. Makes me feel even more in control. Then it goes dark, and your totally helpless, and totally fucked.” He grinds his leather codpiece into my ass, and I feel his dick press against me. It too, is rock hard.

I moan into the handkerchief, and finally am forced to take my first breath. The chemical fumes are overwhelming—and I cough and scream as my head begins to spin. And I think to myself, these are really strong poppers—because I can barely stand. And they smell different, too. Sweeter and more intense. Just as my mind processes this information, you whisper into my ear—“Oh, and surprise, I was able to get my hands on some chloroform after all, so this is no role play boy. This is real. You’re going out.”

My eyes go wide—I hadn’t been prepared to really be knocked out. I’m scared shitless. He’s going to knock me out, and I would be completely helpless. I feel his gloved hand on my crotch, which is now bursting as my dick throbs between his fingers. “You love this, boy. Your dick is rock hard. Just relax and breathe in. It’ll be over soon. You can’t escape, boy. I’ve got big plans for you this weekend.”

I take another breath and I feel as if my head will explode. My legs buckle and my struggles become weaker. I take another breath, and I start hearing ringing in my ears. I know this is it—I’m about to go out. Dave suddenly takes the rag off my face but quickly gags me again with his leather gloved hand. I gulp for air, but can barely fight him. I’m leaning back into him as one leather gloved hand caresses my face gently, and the other begins undoing the buttons of my leather jeans. I feel your gloved hand wrap around my hard dick, and you pull it out of my pants, squeezing it softly between your fingers.

“There, that’s not so bad now is it, boy? Don’t worry, I’m gonna take real good care of you. But first, we need to get you tied up, and that’s just gonna be easier if you’re not struggling. So, just relax and go to sleep, boy.”

My head starts to clear, and I try to tell him that I don’t want more chloro, but the rag is on my nose and mouth again, and I make a pitiful “mmmmpfffhh” as you press it tight against my face. Another breath and my body goes limp. You’re shaking me gently now, keeping me on the brink of consciousness but feeding me more chloro. You want to be sure that I’m completely knocked out.

You whisper in my ear softly. “I’m gonna keep you drugged, bound, and helpless for the rest of the weelend, boy. And do whatever I want to you—and you won’t be able to do a thing about it.” Another breath and my eyes flutter and roll up in my head. The last thing I remember is your hand squeezing my dick while you whisper “Woof!” in my ear.

The next thing I know, I start coming to, but have little recollection of what happened. I forget momentarily that I’m with you, or that I had been knocked out. I’m in complete darkness, the result of a tight leather hood that has been pulled over my head. My arms are pinned to my sides and legs seem strapped tightly together. I feel the laces of the hood being pulled tight, sealing my head, and removing the last traces of light. I feel really out of it, and am only vaguely aware of your hands stroking my face through the leather hood, and squeezing my cock and balls. I moan and twist a bit in the bondage.

“Looks like our boy is back amongst the living. Did you have a nice little rest, boy?” I still don’t know what you’re talking about, or who you even are for that matter. I lie there in the dark for a few minutes, and slowly I remember what is going on. I try to move my arms and legs, but they are tied down tight. I feel the pull of buckles around my ankles, my thighs, my wrists, and then my shoulders and soon realize that he’s put me in a leather sleep sack. I can barely move. I’m completely helpless.

Dave unzips the sack and pulls my cock and balls out.—stroking them with his leather gloved hand. “Feeling pretty helpless, boy? I thought we’d wrap you up nice and tight to start off, maybe do a little suspension for a few hours, then I’ll chloro you again and try something new. How’s that sound to you, boy?’

I groan through the leather hood and weakly twist in the bondage sack. ‘Fuck’ I manage to utter. “That’s right, you’re fucked, boy” he responds. First, we need to finish gift wrapping you. Soon I feel leather cords being tied around my cock and balls, pulling them tight. I feel that I had gone soft because of the chloroform, but now, with my cock and balls trussed up and Dave’s hand gently squeezing my balls, my dick gets hard again.

“There we go. Now you’re coming around. I feel something warm on my throbbing dick and assume that it’s Dave, blowing me. I continue to test the bondage and flex my muscles in the sleep sack. I can’t move at all. I struggle against the tight bondage, breathing in the smell of the leather hood and Dave’s hot mouth almost causes me to shoot. He stops suddenly. “Not so fast, boy. You cum when I say you get to cum—you got that?” I say nothing, and he slaps the side of leather hood. “I said, got that?” “Yes, sir” I manage to reply.

“Sir?” well, that’s an improvement from the uncooperative captive that I just chloro’d an hour ago. I knew I would be able to break you boy. By the end of the weekend, you’ll be begging me for the rag.” He pushes two of his fingers through the mouth opening of the hood. “Suck on it, boy. Let me hear some sexy noises, too.” I hungrily suck at his leather fingers, groaning as I twist in the leather sack. “I’ll start you with a couple of fingers now boy. But in a little bit, my dick is going in that mouth. So you better practice on those fingers. I expect you to be a good little cock sucker. You understand?”

“Yes sir” I respond, still in a daze. After a while, he pulls out his fingers and I hear noises—sounding like restraints and chains being moved around. Suddenly, I’m being flipped on my stomach, my cock and balls smashed under the weight of the sleep sack—which makes me cry out in pain. “This won’t take but a second, boy. Relax. And if you won’t relax, I have something that will do the trick.”

I grunted quietly—taking his veiled threat of another chloroforming seriously. More sounds of buckling and then suddenly I’m being lifted off the ground. My leather bound body sways in the suspension harness as Dave gives me a push. The feeling is unbelievable—I’ve never felt so completely helpless, or so hot. Dave reaches under me and strokes my hard dick. I feel I might shoot at any moment. He stops suddenly and I continue to swing about, still unable to see or hear what Dave is doing. A minute later and I sense him next to my head. “Time to take you on a fun ride, boy.” I wiggle around in the harness and beg him to let me down. The words are barely out of my mouth when a leather plug is shoved in and snapped in place. I can only make sexy grunting noises now.

“Much better,” Dave replies. He twirls me around and around in the harness, then stops me. I feel my head being grabbed and something being pressed against my face. It’s a popper soaked rag. I breath in deeply and soon I’m flying. Already out of it from the chloro, the poppers seem especially potent. Dave holds the rag there for about 30 seconds, making sure I get a good hit. Then he starts twirling me again. I hear him laughing through the hood, and I grunt and wiggle in the bondage sac. I think I might come without even being touched. Dave must anticipate that I’m on sensory overload—and I hear a stern warning—“Remember boy, don’t even think of cumming until I say so—you hear?” I cry into the plug gag, trying to think non-sexy thoughts, but I’m overwhelmed by the feeling of being suspended, hooded, and bagged. Again, the popper soaked rag is pressed to my face, and I hungrily breath in the fumes. I’m becoming a sex animal—I want Dave to do anything to me that he wants—tie me up, stretch me out, fuck me, use me. He’s already close to breaking me. And he knows it.

Soon, I feel his hand on my dick again, this time with some lube. He slowly strokes my dick and I quiver and cry into my hood. I want to cum so badly. “Alright, boy, I think you’ve had enough for now. You have my permission to cum. Let me see a nice big load, boy.” Two seconds later I erupt into a wild climax, jerking in the harness and screaming into my plug gag. It takes several minutes for my body to stop convulsing. I feel completely spent. Helpless. Controlled. And broken.

“That was beautiful, boy. Quite a performance if I may say so myself.” He pats my butt through the bondage sack, then comes next to my head to tell me something.

‘That’s round one boy—we’ve got at least 10 or 12 more to go.’ I moan, exhausted into the plug gag.

‘But you have earned a little rest, and I need to get you prepped for your next session so you know what that means don’t you?’ My head is still reeling from the poppers and the chloro, and I really don’t want to be drugged anymore. I wriggle wildly in the bondage sack and yell into the gag.

“I guess you do know what that means.” “Mmmmmrrrpphh!” I scream into the leather gag, only to feel your hand press against my face again. I breathe in, expecting poppers, but it’s chloroform, and my head explodes again. I’m bucking like an animal in the sleep sack—not wanting to be knocked out again, but Dave presses the rag tighter. “Sorry boy, it’s not up to you. Nightly, night.’ A few more breathes and my body goes limp in the harness. I think just before I slip into unconsciousness that he’s really going to keep me drugged and helpless all weekend. And my dick jumped a bit in response. Another breath, and I’m gone.




I don’t know how long I was out, but I awoke I was out of the bondage sack and lying on the concrete floor of Dave’s playroom. I had been stripped to a leather jock, my leather gloves, and my Dehners. The hood was removed too—and as I result, I got my wits about me more quickly this time. I could see myself in the mirrors on his playroom wall. I quickly remembered what had happened to me.

Also, I was untied for the moment. Dave was working at my feet, putting some sort of restraint over my boots, but my hands were free and I wasn’t gagged. I thought for a moment of trying to escape, then decided that was probably a bad idea—one that one only get me into more trouble. I laid there quietly, waiting for my head to clear up.

Dave finished attaching suspension restraints to my booted feet and turned to see if his captive had come to. He smiled when he saw that I was awake, then pulled a chair up behind me and pulled me into a sitting position between his leather-clad legs and hot boots. I wrapped my arms around his boots and nuzzled his leg as he stroked my hair with his gloved hand.

“How’s my boy doing,” he asked with a degree of genuine concern. “Good, sir.” A little spacey, but good sir.” Ready for Round 2 boy?” he replied. I nodded as he pulled my arms behind my back and held them there. I felt the coldness of steel as he put handcuffs on my wrists, and gasped slightly when I heard the click that meant I was once again bound and helpless. I wondered what could be next.

As it turned out, I was to be suspended again, only this time by my feet. Dave pushed me down onto the hard floor, then attached a chain to the restraints around my boots. A click of the switch on the wall and the chain pulled my feet off the ground. I was pulled along the ground until my boots were a foot or two off the ground. Once my butt was in the air, Dave stopped and came over. He rubbed my exposed butt with his gloved hand—gently at first, then gave both cheeks a hard smack.

“Time to work the other end” he said as he looked down at me and grinned. He turned and went to trunk, returning with a number of items—some duct tape, a rather large butt plug, and what looked like a plastic syringe.

“We’re going to start breaking in that tight butt of yours now, boy.” We’ll start by butt plugging you—a bigger plug each time. By tomorrow night, you should be ready to be fucked. I can’t wait for that boy. You know why?”

I shook my head no, still in a daze from the chloro.

“Because when you’re stretched out, tied down, drugged, and taking my dick all the way up your hole, that’s when you’ll be just about broken. You’ll leave here boy when you’re begging for it—to be ragged and to have that hole of yours raped whenever I get the urge.” And we’re not there yet. I suspect there’s still a bit more resistance in you that I’ll need to take care of.

He held up the syringe. “And that’s what this is for.” This is a booty bump, boy—it goes up that tight little hole of yours. There’s some ketamine and a little Ambien, and a few other mystery ingredients in here—all of which should make you quite agreeable without knocking you out. You won’t be able to struggle, but you will get to witness everything that happens to you. Isn’t that great?”

He turned quickly and grabbed the duct tape, ripping off a large piece. ‘First, though, we’re gonna tape that mouth of yours. Don’t want you screaming when that butt plug goes in.’

“Please, sir, don’t gag me, I won’t….mrrppphhhh.” The tape was pressed firmly across my lips. “Sorry, boy, I like it better when you’re gagged.” He ripped off two more pieces, completely sealing my mouth in. I grunted into the tape as walked back to the table and picked up the syringe.

I love tying a boy up and force feeding him a booty bump. I mean, there’s really nothing you can do to stop me, right?” I supposed you can try to clench down, but you know, it’s going in anyway. He was right—my hands were cuffed and even if I tried to block him, he would simply slap my hands away. Next, I felt lube being pushed up my waiting butthole, and then he slid the syringe in. “Here we go.” I feel a cold liquid run into my ass, and the syringe was pulled out. “There. Now, it should just be a few minutes, and you’ll begin to feel it.” I continue to struggle and moan through the tape while you watch me—your arms folded, leather clad legs and boots pushed up near my gagged mouth—a big smile on your face.

Within minutes, I start to feel the drug. I still feel my wrists and ankles, and the tape pressed on my lips. But I can barely move, struggling less and less, feeling light headed—like in a dream.

“There we go,” you reply with a smirk. You get up and work my body over again, with your gloved hand, working my ass and plunging a finger into my butthole as I grunt into moan into the tape. “I also think it’s time for some breath control. You like breath games, boy?” I want to shout no, but all I can manage is a weak “mmmpffh.” “I thought you did,” he replied. The leather top reaches over for a gas mask, and places it in front of my face. “This will be fun.”

He flips me over and quickly straps the mask over my face, tightening the straps and making a perfect seal. I breathe in and out, listening to my breathing through the mask, still unable to struggle. “How about some amyl, boy?” I watch him as he takes a brown bottle and a cotton ball—soaking it with the contents. He holds it in his gloved hand and smiles down at me while he strokes my lifeless body. “You can try to hold your breath, but sooner or later, you’ll need to breathe, and then it’s party time.” Still smiling, he puts the cotton ball into the front canister of the gas mask, and attaches it to my breathing hole.

I try to hold my breath, desperate not to be drugged further, hoping to overcome the tranquilizer and get free. The handsome top watches me, still smiling—sexy, grabing his dick through his leather jock. I finally give in and take a breath. The smell is overwhelming, and in an instant I’m flying again. I take another breath. I’m flying still higher. I don’t feel my jock being pulled off my body. Another breath. I don’t feel my asshole being greased with more lube. Another breath—I’m so fucked up—where am I? What’s happening to me? I don’t feel the butt plug being pushed into me. Another breath—this time fresh air. My head is spinning. The butt plug is pushed all the way in, making a sucking noise as my hungry hole devours it. I twist slowly with my chained boots in the air—butt plugged, drugged, helpless. Once again, however, my dick has sprung to life. Dave takes off a glove and slaps my dick with it as I jerk in the chains. “You’re a real sex pig, you know that boy? Now to finish you off.”

He walks back to the other side of the playroom and once again the chains start pulling upward, taking my booted feet higher, and pulling me completely off the ground. When my head is about 2 feet off the ground, Dave stops. He comes back over and gently taps my mouth with his Chippewas. “Later you’ll be cleaning these with that mouth boy.”

“Mmmmmmmmmm” I groaned, actually wanting him to rip off the tape so I could lick his boots right now. I feel like I’m having an out of body experience—totally aware of my surroundings, but unable to move at all. My body hangs lifeless in the chains, turning slowly. I’m feeling pretty out of it when the leather paddle first hits my butt. Dave used a wide leather strap, and while I felt the impact of the hits, I didn’t really feel the sting. I was sure that he was turning my ass beet red, though. I found myself grateful for his drug cocktail—at least until it wore off. The paddling went on for about 10 minutes. Another popper soaked cotton ball was placed in the gasmask, and I floated away while a larger butt plug was inserted into my bottom.

After a while, Dave came around to where my head was, and pushed his boot against the gasmask. “How you doing, boy? Having a good time?” I gurgle incoherently into the gag. “Time for gift wrapping.”

Dave lowers the chain and I’m back lying horizontally on the floor. Blood rushes to my head again. I still can’t move. He pulls out several rolls of saran wrap, and starts wrapping my body tightly, starting with my boots. “Ever been mummified boy? Once I’m done, you’ll be completely helpless. I can keep you as long as I want, cause you’ll never get loose.” He continues wrapping my limp body, until he reaches my head. Next, several rolls of duct tape are brought out. I listen to the sound of the tape being pulled from the rolls and wrapped around my body. I love that sound. Soon I can’t move my feet or legs at all. Then my arms are pinned. I’m wrapped up to my head, my cock and balls still exposed. He stops again and looks down at me—grinning, pressing his gloved hand over my gagged mouth. “You’re mine now, boy. Like it or not. You’re mine. He pulls off the gasmask and I breath fresh air for a minute. More duct tape is soon pressed over my lips and wrapped around my head. A leather hood is pulled over my head, zipped and tied tight. I’m totally sealed in. Unable to move. Drugged. Helpless. My dick rock hard and being slowly stroked by the hot leather top.

“Let’s get to know each other better, boy. You’re gonna be here for a while.” I moan and slowly rock in my bondage as my dick twitches, and I shoot a huge load without warning, sending my body into spasms.

“What did I say about cumming without permission boy?”, Dave said in a really peeved voice. I’m too spent to even respond. What could he possibly do to punish me anyway, I wonder to myself. You’ll pay for that boy, you mark my words. For starters, you just sit there wrapped like a mummy and think about what you’ve done. I’ll come and free you when I’m good and ready. Dave kicks my bound feet as he walks off. The lights are turned off, the door closes with a click, and I’m alone. Wrapped in duct tape in the dark. I’m uncomfortable, and a feeling a little lonely there in the dark. But, at some point, I fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. I would spend the entire night wrapped and alone in Dave’s playroom.