Gerd had turned the lights off on leaving the dungeon and I was now left tightly bound by his ropes and totally unable to move. I had time to reconsider the wisdom of my decision to burgle Marsh Farm. Many thoughts now ran through my head. What if his intention was never to release me? There really was absolutely nothing that I could do to influence this and of course nobody knew of my whereabouts. I was by now in some considerable pain. I had been left balanced on the bended points of my knees for some time, my ankles roped back up behind me and tightly secured to my wrists. My bound wrists were pinioned cruelly by rope behind my back and my ankles secured equally tightly, bound together. Struggling against my bonds achieved precisely nothing, the most that I could do was to shake my body slightly. The gag that Gerd had used to ensure that my mouth and throat had offered free access to his thick, erect cock was still in buckled firmly in place, the leather covered steel ring wedging my mouth wide open. I could still taste the remnants of Gerd's copious cum on my tongue. Most of the gushing river of hot spunk had been spurted directly down my throat but after his orgasm he had withdrawn his cock slowly, ordering me to clean him with my tongue.
Up to that stage I had assumed that once he had enjoyed his climax, something that he clearly had greatly, judging by his moans and cries of pleasure that had accompanied his orgasm, that I would be quickly released from his expertly applied Shibari style rope bondage. This was the ancient Japanese method that had been used for centuries as a kind of torture for criminals as well as prisoners captured in battle, both of whom would have been displayed ritually in public to add deep humiliation to the pain the ropes inflicted on the stressed muscles and joints of it's victims.
Having given up on any attempt to shake myself free I must admit that the pain got to me and I began to sob softly to myself in the dark, silent world of my prison. It was difficult to judge exactly how long I had been down here. I was fully aware of just how slowly time would appear to pass in such a situation. My situation was hopeless, there really was nothing that I could do. I was now utterly at Gerd's mercy, something that he appeared to possess very little of. It was at this point that I thought that I heard a noise. I listened intently, trying to discern the slightest sound.
Then there was the distinctive tapping of Gerd's boots on the steps leading down to my prison, he had returned to the dungeon, I breathed a sigh of relief. Any moment now my bonds would be loosened and I would be released. He entered the dungeon and the uplighters went back on. His magnificent leather clad and booted figure reflected the light in a thousand mobile pools as he moved towards my bound and kneeling form. I waited, but still nothing happened. I raised my eyes from studying his boots and saw the leather whip gripped between his gloved hands. A long, slim shaft that he flexed threateningly before me. He moved a straight backed chair to directly in front of me and sat himself down to admire his prize, crossing his long booted legs.
For the second time in our encounter I became aware of a nascent erection between my legs as I gazed on his superbly muscled body encased in it's gleaming black carapace of polished black leather. Surely I thought, this cannot be right. I had never had as much as a single gay thought in my life, now Gerd's almost iconically gay appearance was actually having the effect of turning me on. The more my mind raced the more my cock refused to obey my orders, now attempting to gain a full erection as I looked first at the neat criss cross lacings of his boots, then raising my face to look directly into his eyes. I took in the dramatic leather cap with it's shiny peak and his handsome but contemptuous face and the stiffly starched collar of his pristine white shirt with it's slim black leather tie. It reminded me of pictures of SS officers, a thought that briefly made me shudder.
