Used and Abused: Gay Bondage

The first thing I noticed when I woke up is that I was unable to move anything but my arms. I was lying naked, on my back, strapped down onto a padded leather surface.
I couldn’t really see what was holding me in place as my head was tilted back quite far by a wide leather strap wrapping around my forehead. I could reach up behind my head, but there were no clasps or latches to release my head from its awkward position. They must have been behind my back where I couldn’t reach.
Feeling my way around, there were two more straps pinning my shoulders to the bench. It was something similar to a backpack harness, with another joining strap running across my chest, making the top half of me completely immobile.
My legs were attached with larger, wider straps to a frame which kept them raised and spread, similar to an obstetrician’s stirrups. I could reach around the back of my thigh and felt a sequence of holes and lacing but I couldn’t find any knots. The cord used was reasonably thick, and not something I could hope of parting with only my fingers or nails.
Between the chest harness and the frame holding my legs in place I found I had a little amount of movement available if I twisted or rotated my hips, but nothing that would allow me to free myself. There was no way I was escaping this contraption without being intentionally released.
I wondered how I got here in the first place. I was just enjoying a drink in a new bar that had recently opened in town. And that is the last thing that I remember. I hadn’t even talked to anyone, so I was pretty confused and a little scared to end up where I was.
“So,...