Peter started by lacing up the
sensory deprivation hood over my head, I was naked under the
Marmot 8000M and already very horny, but once I realized I was going to be locked in a
strait jacket along with the downsuit and hood I knew I would be locked up like this for the long haul. I was slowly guided toward the futon where I sat and was soon corrected; I would be lying down. Next leather ankle restraints were fastened to each ankle and then chained to the frame, another chain was looped through the straps of the strait jacket and secured to the opposite end. I could barely move and struggled to writhe around in my prison, only sweat, smothering down, darkness, the thick stench of leather and muffled noises to keep me company. It was bliss while I tested my bindings, my dick throbbing with each strain against my sweaty prison but as Peter left me to my own devices for longer and longer the bondage started to change.

The pressure from the straps on the hood was beginning to be overwhelming, I could feel a tension headache taking hold, my jaw ached, and the bridge of my nose was feeling raw. Even when Peter adjusted the straps on the hood it still felt like I was being strangled by the leather, the headache just getting worse and worse. But when Peter would tease me, play with my cock, the pain would go away. Suddenly my headache would be gone and the only thing on my mind was cumming, once he stopped my dick would throb for a minute or two before things started to settle back down. The panic resuming all over again, a cycle that repeated on and on.
I'm all to familiar with the feeling; like when you're bundled in layers of gear and finally cum, all you want to do is claw your way out from the gear and take a minute to breath. With the right motivation I can push through it, and within a few minutes find myself horny and ready to go again, ready to endure more. But while wearing this hood?
Not a chance. I began to panic, I needed out, I couldn't breath. But once I was free,
I craved more.