Sweaty Tie-Up Saga (mm/mm)
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- Centennial Club
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Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School
8. Under the Sun
The three prisoners writhed and wriggled. They had to use this time on their own to achieve some escape from the devious pole-tie; trying would be rewarded, or at least that not trying could bring punishment. They felt each other’s warmth and body. They had never openly confessed it, but they enjoyed these moments of their servitude.
Liquid dribbled down their thighs. The smell of cum was overwhelming. The boys moaned and grunted to reassure each other they were doing fine. Twisting felt good but it didn’t loosen the solidly knotted ropes.
Time went by. Some clouds slightly obscured the sun, making the heat more bearable. The captive teens kept on struggling, a move from one triggering reactions from his two partners. Eventually they heard their keepers coming.
“Doing fine?” Hervé asked as he looked at the ropes and knots holding his charges, “Starting to miss us?”
“They’re drying up and enjoying the sun, I’m sure they could have stayed like this all afternoon and enjoyed it.”
There were muffled and disagreeing responses.
“Apparently not. We’re back anyway. There’s punishment on the agenda.”
“Indeed. You said something about a torture pole before we left, Herv. I can see what the pole part means, but what about torture?”
“I’m all for traditional methods, so warming up their behinds and getting them a bright shade of red would be my favourite way. But their bottoms are a bit out of re ach considering how we tied them up. I have thought of something else, of course.”
Hervé had brought a large shopping bag that lied over the lawn a few feet away.
“We should start by changing their gags. These strap gags are great to keep them muzzled all day long, but they are a bit too cushy to my taste. Let’s start with more punishing ones.”
The twelve-year old picked up the pile of soiled swimwear they’d removed when they’d changed their charges.
“This will make for a good start. What should we add to them?” He squeezed the navy-blue pair into his fist, showing his brother it made for a small ball of fabric.
“I could go barefoot and donate my socks.”
“I also wear ankle socks, so I may contribute too. We put them on this morning only, though. They’re almost clean, so not very punishing.”
“Should I go get some from the hamper?”
Hervé smiled.
“Don’t worry, I thought of this and I already picked our little friends’. Those they came in with yesterday. Remember I forbade Greg and Nico to change all week?”
“You’re ruthless, Hervé, being gagged with Greg’s worn socks is a very severe punishment.”
“We’ve got only two, so who should be spared?”
“Phil?”
“He has done better than usual, sure… But you think we should save him from this ordeal? Nico seems the better behaved boy.”
“Ha! Nico! He’s the little teacher’s pet,” Cédric laughed, ruffling his hair.
Hervé didn’t react and he grabbed what they needed to torment their charges further.
The gagging started with Grégory. They untied the cord keeping the shorts placated over his nose and removed the strap gag. Hervé had picked the black pair of Speedos, which he offered to the parting lips. His brother was next in line, with his balled-up sock ready to be crammed inside the prisoner’s gob.
Philippe obediently accepted his friend’s stinky sock. His blond mate had strong-smelling feet, which got Philippe weirdly aroused. Nicolas saw his swimwear approach his friend’s mouth from the corner of his eye. Being so close to his fellow-captives, he could take in everything that happened to them. He’d benefitted from the sock fumes and he recognized his own smell before his worn and tainted swimwear completed the stuffing of Philippe’s mouth.
The stench faded when the mouths were sealed with surgical tape. They added rubber swim caps and extra turns of bandage, before some rounds of tape achieved an acceptable result.
“Sealing their mouths shut is a must to avoid bad breath!”
Hervé’s humour caused its targets to reply with gagged, annoyed moans.
Nicolas was waiting for his turn patiently; his captors were ready to grace him with a slightly more lenient gagging. He had to take in Grégory’s Speedos in his mouth. Cédric had rolled them thoroughly in a tight little ball, folding them so no end would stick out towards the back of his throat. Though it wouldn’t suffocate him and didn’t force his jaws too brutally apart, the strong manly taste would have been difficult to bear for anyone less well trained than a member of this quartet.
Nicolas could take it like a man. It also magically revived the spell his penis was under. His member inflated and hardened, which didn’t go unnoticed.
“He enjoys it, Ced. He likes sucking on Greg’s pants!”
Hervé’s laughter ended his sentence. Nicolas felt his little fingers laying down strip after strip of the wide, sticky and unrelenting tape. He plastered his lower face, but there were no turns around his head, no extra layer crushing his lips over his teeth. He caressed it at length to make sure it sticks. Feeling the sensitive fingers stroking his face also made his shorts fuller and tented them yet further.
All good things come to an end and Hervé’s fingers stopped massaging his lips in their enticing fashion. The younger boy got to his bag, which was within Nicolas’ field of vision. He got a plastic bag out. Nicolas identified the item he pulled out first as a spool of fishing line. He reached inside the bag to bring several plastic clothes pegs out. He lifted his eyes and looked into Nicolas’. A devious smile drew the sides of his mouth apart. He licked his lips with the tip of his tongue.
“This is a simple set-up but it should fit the torture side of our little time together.”
He knotted the end of the fishing line to the first clothes peg, threading it through the hole in the spring keeping it clamped shut. Cédric joined the craft workshop and got working on making a lace with clothes pegs at regular intervals.
The two siblings sat on the grass, making several chains of pegs. They smiled at their prisoners, who grumbled and disapproved of the coming treatment in advance.
“Now, now,” Hervé taunted, “Quit whining. You’ll protest when we give you a good reason to.”
They didn’t have to wait for long. The brothers were done with their preparation and could bring their gifts to their charges.
Nicolas was the younger boy’s first target. A first peg closed it jaws on his nipple, which stung. Hervé went on pulling the skin and setting up the four other clothes pegs so they’d hold. These went to his armpit.
His ears got some further decoration. Five pegs clamped over the smooth, rosy ears, with Hervé looking straight into his eyes, demanding submission with just a look.
Hervé turned to the most entertaining part of his task: setting pegs over Nicolas’ sheathed member. The semi-erect sausage was an adequate target. One of the pegs slid and held to the fabric, not the skin. Had he been able to let them know, Nicolas would probably have remained quiet anyway: no need to help their young minders.
Cédric and Hervé fitted their three guests with their homemade jewellery.
“It’s just like hanging Christmas decorations on the tree,” Hervé rejoiced.
“They’re about as still,” his brother replied.
The three captives argued as loud as they could. Their muffled chorus got their captors to sneer.
“But a tree sure doesn’t make as much noise!”
The analogy wasn’t the best one: the boys wouldn’t bear their decorations for a whole month. The baubles wouldn’t stay on for more than a few minutes.
Cédric and Hervé sat down on the grass again.
“We’ll give you a chance to get rid of the pegs. You’ve got ten minutes, so get to it,” the diminutive master ordered. The boys watched the entertaining show. Cédric looked at his watch and warned them there were two minutes left.
“Get to it, time’s almost up.”
“They like waving their dicks around, look how they get them bobbing up and down.”
“Pain doesn’t get them soft, Herv.”
The two siblings talked for some time about this strange, counterintuitive effect of the torment they subjected their charges to. They ended up wanting to experiment a bit further.
“Let’s take the pegs off and see if it gets them any harder,” Cédric suggested.
They rose to their feet and circled the trussed up trio, looking at them intently and deciding whose pegs they’d remove. Nicolas and Grégory ended up being first on their list.
“We’ll remove these nasty, pinching pegs. It might hurt a bit, so the silence rule is off.”
Hervé grabbed the end of the first string of pegs clipped over his chest.
“Ready? Steady…”
He didn’t say go. He ripped of the five pegs biting in Nicolas’ soft and supple skin.
“Mmmmph!”
It felt like a bunch of firecrackers exploding at very short intervals, drawing a line of pain from his armpit to his nipple. The pain triggered a loud and disgruntled moan. His nipple stung particularly.
“You may whine all you want,” Hervé said. “We know you fake it.”
His nimble digits prodded the invasive erection tenting the thin layer of polyamide. They confirmed the swift removal of the pegs triggered growth. Hervé tended to equate this physiological reaction with bliss and happiness for the prisoners. It was a bit more complex, Nicolas thought. He couldn’t stop his tormentor who kneeled to remove the pegs pinching his fleshy thigh. This didn’t hurt as much, yet the moan persisted. Hervé heard the sweet song of an enamoured teenager.
“Keep it down, Nico, all these praises about our treatments are a bit embarrassing. Let’s see how you deal with the next set of pegs…”
The boy’s nose was a few inches from Nicolas’ sheathed cock tip, which throbbed at the end of the shiny wrapping layer. The member stuck out, engorged with blood and lust. The pinching also added to the ambiguous feeling .
Nicolas braced himself for the pain to come. This didn’t deflate his member, much to the contrary.
“The snake’s about to spit his venom,” Cédric joked.
Hervé pulled on the end of the threaded pegs. Nicolas felt some tension over his ball sack. The younger boy ripped the pegs away, which triggered a stinging feeling. The gag muffled a genuine expression of pain. This isn’t what attracted the devious brothers’ attention.
“Wow! His stick stays hard and rising. Let me see…”
Hervé leaned in to get a closer look. Nicolas could feel the younger boy’s breath over his exposed genitals.
“He’s leaking again!”
Hervé reached for the penis with his fingertip, which he brought to his nostrils.
“Boy juice! Let’s see how his mates handle our little treatment.”
The boys moved to Grégory, whom they blindfolded before they tackled their task. They teased him by tugging lightly on a peg. The actual ripping off was performed without notice; the siblings knew how to surprise a captive.
Muffled screams accompanied the removal of the torture implements. With no possibility to rub his skin, the blond cutie had to abide stoically. The stinging sensations didn’t affect his brothers. Hervé noticed the clear drop of liquid forming at the end of his rigid sheathed penis.
“Boy juice again! Let’s check if Phil reacts like his mates!”
The torturing duo would have safely bet that their brother would display a similar reaction. They still had to check for themselves. They blindfolded Philippe too, and they put earplugs in his ears. He moaned less than his fellow-pupils as his flesh stung from the sudden pulling of the pegs.
He actually squirted jizz however, when Cédric finished the task by ripping the pegs over the erect cock and the bulging balls. The large darker patch at the end grew, and drops fell to the ground.
“Our Phil proves he’s the best again!”
Hervé removed the blindfolds and earplugs.
“Let’s make sure they all get some relief. I’ll let you handle Greg; I’m taking care of Nico.”
There were swishing sounds followed by pleasure moans as the younger boys’ hands caressed the two hard and quivering rods. Greg jizzed first. Cédric was no miser, and he gave his older brother a hand, enabling an actual orgasm for his sibling.
“Let’s get them back inside, there’s some cleaning up ahead,” Hervé stated once he’d managed to milk Nicolas again.
TBC
8. Under the Sun
The three prisoners writhed and wriggled. They had to use this time on their own to achieve some escape from the devious pole-tie; trying would be rewarded, or at least that not trying could bring punishment. They felt each other’s warmth and body. They had never openly confessed it, but they enjoyed these moments of their servitude.
Liquid dribbled down their thighs. The smell of cum was overwhelming. The boys moaned and grunted to reassure each other they were doing fine. Twisting felt good but it didn’t loosen the solidly knotted ropes.
Time went by. Some clouds slightly obscured the sun, making the heat more bearable. The captive teens kept on struggling, a move from one triggering reactions from his two partners. Eventually they heard their keepers coming.
“Doing fine?” Hervé asked as he looked at the ropes and knots holding his charges, “Starting to miss us?”
“They’re drying up and enjoying the sun, I’m sure they could have stayed like this all afternoon and enjoyed it.”
There were muffled and disagreeing responses.
“Apparently not. We’re back anyway. There’s punishment on the agenda.”
“Indeed. You said something about a torture pole before we left, Herv. I can see what the pole part means, but what about torture?”
“I’m all for traditional methods, so warming up their behinds and getting them a bright shade of red would be my favourite way. But their bottoms are a bit out of re ach considering how we tied them up. I have thought of something else, of course.”
Hervé had brought a large shopping bag that lied over the lawn a few feet away.
“We should start by changing their gags. These strap gags are great to keep them muzzled all day long, but they are a bit too cushy to my taste. Let’s start with more punishing ones.”
The twelve-year old picked up the pile of soiled swimwear they’d removed when they’d changed their charges.
“This will make for a good start. What should we add to them?” He squeezed the navy-blue pair into his fist, showing his brother it made for a small ball of fabric.
“I could go barefoot and donate my socks.”
“I also wear ankle socks, so I may contribute too. We put them on this morning only, though. They’re almost clean, so not very punishing.”
“Should I go get some from the hamper?”
Hervé smiled.
“Don’t worry, I thought of this and I already picked our little friends’. Those they came in with yesterday. Remember I forbade Greg and Nico to change all week?”
“You’re ruthless, Hervé, being gagged with Greg’s worn socks is a very severe punishment.”
“We’ve got only two, so who should be spared?”
“Phil?”
“He has done better than usual, sure… But you think we should save him from this ordeal? Nico seems the better behaved boy.”
“Ha! Nico! He’s the little teacher’s pet,” Cédric laughed, ruffling his hair.
Hervé didn’t react and he grabbed what they needed to torment their charges further.
The gagging started with Grégory. They untied the cord keeping the shorts placated over his nose and removed the strap gag. Hervé had picked the black pair of Speedos, which he offered to the parting lips. His brother was next in line, with his balled-up sock ready to be crammed inside the prisoner’s gob.
Philippe obediently accepted his friend’s stinky sock. His blond mate had strong-smelling feet, which got Philippe weirdly aroused. Nicolas saw his swimwear approach his friend’s mouth from the corner of his eye. Being so close to his fellow-captives, he could take in everything that happened to them. He’d benefitted from the sock fumes and he recognized his own smell before his worn and tainted swimwear completed the stuffing of Philippe’s mouth.
The stench faded when the mouths were sealed with surgical tape. They added rubber swim caps and extra turns of bandage, before some rounds of tape achieved an acceptable result.
“Sealing their mouths shut is a must to avoid bad breath!”
Hervé’s humour caused its targets to reply with gagged, annoyed moans.
Nicolas was waiting for his turn patiently; his captors were ready to grace him with a slightly more lenient gagging. He had to take in Grégory’s Speedos in his mouth. Cédric had rolled them thoroughly in a tight little ball, folding them so no end would stick out towards the back of his throat. Though it wouldn’t suffocate him and didn’t force his jaws too brutally apart, the strong manly taste would have been difficult to bear for anyone less well trained than a member of this quartet.
Nicolas could take it like a man. It also magically revived the spell his penis was under. His member inflated and hardened, which didn’t go unnoticed.
“He enjoys it, Ced. He likes sucking on Greg’s pants!”
Hervé’s laughter ended his sentence. Nicolas felt his little fingers laying down strip after strip of the wide, sticky and unrelenting tape. He plastered his lower face, but there were no turns around his head, no extra layer crushing his lips over his teeth. He caressed it at length to make sure it sticks. Feeling the sensitive fingers stroking his face also made his shorts fuller and tented them yet further.
All good things come to an end and Hervé’s fingers stopped massaging his lips in their enticing fashion. The younger boy got to his bag, which was within Nicolas’ field of vision. He got a plastic bag out. Nicolas identified the item he pulled out first as a spool of fishing line. He reached inside the bag to bring several plastic clothes pegs out. He lifted his eyes and looked into Nicolas’. A devious smile drew the sides of his mouth apart. He licked his lips with the tip of his tongue.
“This is a simple set-up but it should fit the torture side of our little time together.”
He knotted the end of the fishing line to the first clothes peg, threading it through the hole in the spring keeping it clamped shut. Cédric joined the craft workshop and got working on making a lace with clothes pegs at regular intervals.
The two siblings sat on the grass, making several chains of pegs. They smiled at their prisoners, who grumbled and disapproved of the coming treatment in advance.
“Now, now,” Hervé taunted, “Quit whining. You’ll protest when we give you a good reason to.”
They didn’t have to wait for long. The brothers were done with their preparation and could bring their gifts to their charges.
Nicolas was the younger boy’s first target. A first peg closed it jaws on his nipple, which stung. Hervé went on pulling the skin and setting up the four other clothes pegs so they’d hold. These went to his armpit.
His ears got some further decoration. Five pegs clamped over the smooth, rosy ears, with Hervé looking straight into his eyes, demanding submission with just a look.
Hervé turned to the most entertaining part of his task: setting pegs over Nicolas’ sheathed member. The semi-erect sausage was an adequate target. One of the pegs slid and held to the fabric, not the skin. Had he been able to let them know, Nicolas would probably have remained quiet anyway: no need to help their young minders.
Cédric and Hervé fitted their three guests with their homemade jewellery.
“It’s just like hanging Christmas decorations on the tree,” Hervé rejoiced.
“They’re about as still,” his brother replied.
The three captives argued as loud as they could. Their muffled chorus got their captors to sneer.
“But a tree sure doesn’t make as much noise!”
The analogy wasn’t the best one: the boys wouldn’t bear their decorations for a whole month. The baubles wouldn’t stay on for more than a few minutes.
Cédric and Hervé sat down on the grass again.
“We’ll give you a chance to get rid of the pegs. You’ve got ten minutes, so get to it,” the diminutive master ordered. The boys watched the entertaining show. Cédric looked at his watch and warned them there were two minutes left.
“Get to it, time’s almost up.”
“They like waving their dicks around, look how they get them bobbing up and down.”
“Pain doesn’t get them soft, Herv.”
The two siblings talked for some time about this strange, counterintuitive effect of the torment they subjected their charges to. They ended up wanting to experiment a bit further.
“Let’s take the pegs off and see if it gets them any harder,” Cédric suggested.
They rose to their feet and circled the trussed up trio, looking at them intently and deciding whose pegs they’d remove. Nicolas and Grégory ended up being first on their list.
“We’ll remove these nasty, pinching pegs. It might hurt a bit, so the silence rule is off.”
Hervé grabbed the end of the first string of pegs clipped over his chest.
“Ready? Steady…”
He didn’t say go. He ripped of the five pegs biting in Nicolas’ soft and supple skin.
“Mmmmph!”
It felt like a bunch of firecrackers exploding at very short intervals, drawing a line of pain from his armpit to his nipple. The pain triggered a loud and disgruntled moan. His nipple stung particularly.
“You may whine all you want,” Hervé said. “We know you fake it.”
His nimble digits prodded the invasive erection tenting the thin layer of polyamide. They confirmed the swift removal of the pegs triggered growth. Hervé tended to equate this physiological reaction with bliss and happiness for the prisoners. It was a bit more complex, Nicolas thought. He couldn’t stop his tormentor who kneeled to remove the pegs pinching his fleshy thigh. This didn’t hurt as much, yet the moan persisted. Hervé heard the sweet song of an enamoured teenager.
“Keep it down, Nico, all these praises about our treatments are a bit embarrassing. Let’s see how you deal with the next set of pegs…”
The boy’s nose was a few inches from Nicolas’ sheathed cock tip, which throbbed at the end of the shiny wrapping layer. The member stuck out, engorged with blood and lust. The pinching also added to the ambiguous feeling .
Nicolas braced himself for the pain to come. This didn’t deflate his member, much to the contrary.
“The snake’s about to spit his venom,” Cédric joked.
Hervé pulled on the end of the threaded pegs. Nicolas felt some tension over his ball sack. The younger boy ripped the pegs away, which triggered a stinging feeling. The gag muffled a genuine expression of pain. This isn’t what attracted the devious brothers’ attention.
“Wow! His stick stays hard and rising. Let me see…”
Hervé leaned in to get a closer look. Nicolas could feel the younger boy’s breath over his exposed genitals.
“He’s leaking again!”
Hervé reached for the penis with his fingertip, which he brought to his nostrils.
“Boy juice! Let’s see how his mates handle our little treatment.”
The boys moved to Grégory, whom they blindfolded before they tackled their task. They teased him by tugging lightly on a peg. The actual ripping off was performed without notice; the siblings knew how to surprise a captive.
Muffled screams accompanied the removal of the torture implements. With no possibility to rub his skin, the blond cutie had to abide stoically. The stinging sensations didn’t affect his brothers. Hervé noticed the clear drop of liquid forming at the end of his rigid sheathed penis.
“Boy juice again! Let’s check if Phil reacts like his mates!”
The torturing duo would have safely bet that their brother would display a similar reaction. They still had to check for themselves. They blindfolded Philippe too, and they put earplugs in his ears. He moaned less than his fellow-pupils as his flesh stung from the sudden pulling of the pegs.
He actually squirted jizz however, when Cédric finished the task by ripping the pegs over the erect cock and the bulging balls. The large darker patch at the end grew, and drops fell to the ground.
“Our Phil proves he’s the best again!”
Hervé removed the blindfolds and earplugs.
“Let’s make sure they all get some relief. I’ll let you handle Greg; I’m taking care of Nico.”
There were swishing sounds followed by pleasure moans as the younger boys’ hands caressed the two hard and quivering rods. Greg jizzed first. Cédric was no miser, and he gave his older brother a hand, enabling an actual orgasm for his sibling.
“Let’s get them back inside, there’s some cleaning up ahead,” Hervé stated once he’d managed to milk Nicolas again.
TBC
Last edited by Bondwriter 4 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
- blackbound
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1060
- Joined: 5 years ago
Another excellent chapter. Not being able to see or hear makes everything so much more intense. You can't brace, you don't know when it's coming.
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks, Blackbound. Thankfully for you, the prisoners' ordeal is far from over...
Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School
9. At Attention
Cédric and Hervé sat at the dining table, leisurely sipping their tea and nibbling on scones. They had donned their football kits, which made them look younger. The shiny garments also put their legs on display and enhanced the roundness of their butts and the fact they were boys.
Tending to their requests were three waiters who were performing their duties in silence. The clatter of chains and silverware hitting the china accompanied their service, punctuated by orders and demands from their keepers.
The waiting staff was a sight to behold. They’d been brought back from the garden, cleaned, changed, fettered, and muzzled so they could play their roles with class. Their underwear had been changed, of course; the cum-soaked Speedos were not fitting for chic personnel.
This new setting allowed the two minders to get their charges in even fancier undergarments. The supply of tailor-made clothing coming from Hervé’s fan club seemed to never dry up. The particular clothing that wrapped their mid-sections were designed with kink in mind. Made of a mix of polyamide and elastane, they felt much as the swimwear the boys usually wore.
They fitted so well that they had a front tube intended to host their budding, growing genitals. The servants looked rather obscene despite their members and bollocks being hidden from view. The sheen from the synthetic fabric tended to enhance the concealed curves and shapes. Boners stuck out proudly, wrapped in a layer of black or navy-blue nylon.
Much as the penile sheaths they’d worn before, the new clothing enhanced their genitals. This time, their bottoms were also wrapped in the enticing material. The two brothers knew how horny this would make their fetishist pupils.
Metal cuffs at wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, linked by short padlocked pieces of chain ensured the waiters wouldn’t ‘do anything funny.’ They wore leather harnesses over their bare upper bodies that provided a few more anchoring points to prevent any wide, unwanted gesture.
The waiters paid very close attention to their assigned tasks; spilling tea or dropping a piece of toast would certainly trigger an unpleasant reaction from their tormentors.
“This is life, Hervé!” Cédric said, relaxing in his chair.
“Yup, having three slaves instead of just one noticeably improves the service…”
Philippe couldn’t figure out how much better the service was compared to the many times his brothers had forced him to be the perfect maid while they watched TV or hung out.
His brothers enjoyed having him do their chores; they also appreciated their parents’ unsuspecting praise of the siblings’ dedication to domestic duties.
As the servants neared the table, a familiar physiological reaction caught the diners’ attention.
“Ced, I thought getting them busy after the milking and changing would get their cocks to soften, but they stay hard,” Hervé said.
The youngest captor grabbed Nicolas’ full penile sheath that stubbornly pointed to the sky.
“He’s got quite a boner. What about Greg?”
Cédric snapped his fingers to summon the blond cutie, who rushed to stand by his side. He reached for the engorged, sticking member.
“Our horny lad is excited too.”
Cédric squeezed the aroused piece of meat.
“No wetness, though.”
“You think we milked him dry?”
“I’m not sure, but we’re going to check out. Hand me the glove. Don’t move, Blondie.”
From the corner of his eye, Grégory saw Cédric put the accessory on. The mere sight of the young boy’s fingers sliding into the glove was enticing. Emotions stirred his loins; he couldn’t believe he was still capable of feeling as randy, considering the orgasms he’d been brought to not so long ago.
“Let’s see…”
Hervé had decided to run the same test on Nicolas, who stood still at full attention. The cute brown-haired boy reacted much as his blonde friend, torn about the pleasure to come and the reproaches they would incur if they squirted their jizz again.
Nicolas let the sheathed, gliding hand run over his wrapped member; he closed his eyes as he felt desire rise. Moans and small noises came from the other side of the table; he realized he was also cooing from behind his gag. Hervé, for his part, was mainly interested in getting the prized liquid to spurt. He knew leaving his victim out to dry in frustration was a fine torment, but he intended to get his own dose of fun.
Philippe watched his brothers wank his friends and wished he could get the same ‘torture.’ Within thirty seconds from each other, his fellow captives shook and wriggled as semen seeped through the tip of their sheaths.
His brothers laughed.
“I don’t know how much cum they hold,” Hervé said. “It seems we can’t empty them.”
“We’ll have strained wrists before we milk them dry!”
“And it looks like there will be some cleaning on the menu,” the young leader said when he noticed the semen dripping on the tiled floor.
“Since they’ve made a mess already, we can go ahead and have Philippe join them in their misdeeds.”
Cédric stood and walked up to his older brother.
“You’re all going to be punished for poor control; you might as well deserve it.”
His brother’s hands weren’t the most arousing to Philippe, but Grégory was in no state to perform the job. Cédric made it up with experience and know-how when it came to handling his older sibling. less than five minutes after he grabbed the aroused penis and started pumping it the throbbing member spilled its whitish liquid, which the polyamide sheath prevented from flying out. It landed on the floor.
Philippe had to recover from this umpteenth orgasm quickly; he was to lead the cleaning up.
The two younger teens let their charges handle the task. Philippe brought sponges. The maids had to crouch to reach the floor. The process was slow and inefficient, but the show of writhing bodies, their bums so nicely packed within their soft and shiny confines, compensated for the time spent.
Cédric went out to get some ropes while the floor wiping was completed.
“Is it going to be enough, Ced?” his little brother asked. “A punishment tie-up is coming next, we’ll need lots of rope.”
“This will do for the first one. I’ll get more if needed. Who do we start with?”
“Phil can go first. We’ll start by giving him his tea; I don’t think they’ll get their gags off before tomorrow morning. They’re grounded, after all.”
The three captives all imagined this had been planned beforehand; their tormentors knew they could say whatever they wanted without fear of being disagreed with. The teenage maids stood quiet and still.
Cédric removed Philippe’s hobbles, leaving just his hands padlocked behind his back . He tackled the removal of the gag. The many layers came off without hesitation; it still took a while. Hervé had the prisoner’s meal ready—a glass of water, a piece of bread, and an apple—when Cédric eventually uncovered his older brother’s lips.
“Go get some mouthwash, Herv! They will need it!” Cédric smirked. The garments’ odour hadn’t improved by staying inside the boy’s mouth. Hervé came with a plate to collect the dirty laundry and a small cup of minty liquid. Cédric picked the sock and Speedos and let his little brother bring the dose of cleansing solution to his lips.
“Silence rule on, goes without saying. Rinse your mouth well,” Hervé said, handgagging his brother. “Get the spittoon, Cédric.”
Cédric brought a salad bowl and Hervé removed his hand so Philippe could spit out the mouthwash. The operation was repeated with a glass of water.
The routine went on smoothly. The pair of hands toiled bringing the glass or pieces of food to the mouth, holding the diner’s head, and keeping his lips shut when he was to chew or swallow. It ended with the fat plug of the strap gag filling his mouth again, the two ends buckled tight over the nape of his neck.
“We had you eating standing up, excuse our manners! You might want to sit?”
Hervé pointed to the chair he’d pulled away from the table. There were six of the same model in the kitchen, and Philippe had tried all of them out as tie-up implements. Sturdy, the chairs’ bars and rungs turned out to be ideal for their hobby. They made for anchoring points with enough space to thread them around and design creative tie-ups . Philippe even had enough room to slide his arms through the back, which made it possible to stay bound sitting for a rather long time.
“You’ll spend the evening trussed up, lads. This is the punishment for your control issues. On the other hand, you’ve behaved well. So I decided you should be rewarded with some details you weirdoes enjoy.”
Cédric was on the scheme; he completed the explanation.
“Greg will be sniffing socks, Nico will be kept on a leash, and Philippe will enjoy a strict and inescapable chair-tie.”
“With his bum plugged!” his little brother added with a wide smile. “It’s tough choosing for our little Phil. There are so many things he enjoys being done to him….”
This first addition was quickly handled. Philippe faced Nicolas and Grégory, so they didn’t get to see the little silicon device being inserted in their friend’s anus. His eyes opened wide just as the filler settled within his anal ring. Cédric pulled up Phil’s weird undies and helped his brother sit on the chair.
The two standing prisoners witnessed another performance by the increasingly dexterous binding duo. Turns of rope encircled the model’s limbs and solidly linked them to the piece of furniture.
His arms were pulled behind taut and his legs were folded at the knees, spread open with his ankles tied to the back legs of the chair. This of course made his genitals stick out; he’d stopped dripping, but the wetness of the tip was clearly visible. The two-member audience couldn’t help but notice how the knots of Philippe’s brothers caused tremors in his underwear.
The chair featured a high back; the captors’ final touch consisted in fixing the boy’s head to the higher rung, with a folded towel spreading the pressure over the back of his skull.
“We’re done with this one,” Hervé congratulated his brother. “Let’s tackle Blondie’s tie-up.”
Grégory was rid of his gag to get his ‘tea’; he then had his gob filled with the rubber plug of a strap gag.
Cédric grabbed Grégory’s shoulder and pushed him in front of Philippe.
“Philippe has spread his legs so there’s some space for you to sit on.”
“You two like spending time together, don’t you?” Hervé mocked.
Grégory sat facing his captive friend, his buttocks lodged between his best friend’s thighs. Their sheathed genitals brushed against each other, eliciting some emotion. Philippe must have felt him, for he winked in support when he was sure his brothers wouldn’t spot him.
The blond boy experienced the talent of the young riggers as they welded his folded arms to his torso, in a semi-reverse payer. His ankles were linked to the front legs; Cédric held him steady: this position made it difficult to keep his balance.
Hervé had what was needed to prevent a fall. He collared Philippe and Grégory. He brought a 5-inch metal rod with holes at each end and used small padlocks to fix the metal part to the D-rings at the front of the leather bands.
“You’ll be together, and not cheek to cheek as usual. You may trade looks, lover boys!”
Cédric held a plastic bag he’d taken from some hideout.
“And to make sure you enjoy yourself….”
He pulled out long football socks.
“We’ve nicked some from the football club, Greg. They must belong to the adult team,” he said, holding the dirty clothing at arm’s length. “I’m sure they’ll make you quite happy.”
The stench was unfamiliar; had these been his friends’, Grégory would have identified the owner easily. He got to taste the new fragrances even more fully once the two greying socks landed over his face, covering his nostrils. Hervé was in ambush with a red silk scarf, which went over the smelly fabric, forcing the wearer to enjoy the feet odours until their captors would be kind enough to stop the ordeal.
“You’ll get a sniff too, Phil! I hope you like sharing Blondie’s reward.”
“Let me see,” Hervé said, reaching between the two bound bodies. “They both like it! Not a big surprise, I hope they’ll be grateful for our kindness. We saved the best for last. Your turn, Nico…”
TBC
Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School
9. At Attention
Cédric and Hervé sat at the dining table, leisurely sipping their tea and nibbling on scones. They had donned their football kits, which made them look younger. The shiny garments also put their legs on display and enhanced the roundness of their butts and the fact they were boys.
Tending to their requests were three waiters who were performing their duties in silence. The clatter of chains and silverware hitting the china accompanied their service, punctuated by orders and demands from their keepers.
The waiting staff was a sight to behold. They’d been brought back from the garden, cleaned, changed, fettered, and muzzled so they could play their roles with class. Their underwear had been changed, of course; the cum-soaked Speedos were not fitting for chic personnel.
This new setting allowed the two minders to get their charges in even fancier undergarments. The supply of tailor-made clothing coming from Hervé’s fan club seemed to never dry up. The particular clothing that wrapped their mid-sections were designed with kink in mind. Made of a mix of polyamide and elastane, they felt much as the swimwear the boys usually wore.
They fitted so well that they had a front tube intended to host their budding, growing genitals. The servants looked rather obscene despite their members and bollocks being hidden from view. The sheen from the synthetic fabric tended to enhance the concealed curves and shapes. Boners stuck out proudly, wrapped in a layer of black or navy-blue nylon.
Much as the penile sheaths they’d worn before, the new clothing enhanced their genitals. This time, their bottoms were also wrapped in the enticing material. The two brothers knew how horny this would make their fetishist pupils.
Metal cuffs at wrists, elbows, knees, and ankles, linked by short padlocked pieces of chain ensured the waiters wouldn’t ‘do anything funny.’ They wore leather harnesses over their bare upper bodies that provided a few more anchoring points to prevent any wide, unwanted gesture.
The waiters paid very close attention to their assigned tasks; spilling tea or dropping a piece of toast would certainly trigger an unpleasant reaction from their tormentors.
“This is life, Hervé!” Cédric said, relaxing in his chair.
“Yup, having three slaves instead of just one noticeably improves the service…”
Philippe couldn’t figure out how much better the service was compared to the many times his brothers had forced him to be the perfect maid while they watched TV or hung out.
His brothers enjoyed having him do their chores; they also appreciated their parents’ unsuspecting praise of the siblings’ dedication to domestic duties.
As the servants neared the table, a familiar physiological reaction caught the diners’ attention.
“Ced, I thought getting them busy after the milking and changing would get their cocks to soften, but they stay hard,” Hervé said.
The youngest captor grabbed Nicolas’ full penile sheath that stubbornly pointed to the sky.
“He’s got quite a boner. What about Greg?”
Cédric snapped his fingers to summon the blond cutie, who rushed to stand by his side. He reached for the engorged, sticking member.
“Our horny lad is excited too.”
Cédric squeezed the aroused piece of meat.
“No wetness, though.”
“You think we milked him dry?”
“I’m not sure, but we’re going to check out. Hand me the glove. Don’t move, Blondie.”
From the corner of his eye, Grégory saw Cédric put the accessory on. The mere sight of the young boy’s fingers sliding into the glove was enticing. Emotions stirred his loins; he couldn’t believe he was still capable of feeling as randy, considering the orgasms he’d been brought to not so long ago.
“Let’s see…”
Hervé had decided to run the same test on Nicolas, who stood still at full attention. The cute brown-haired boy reacted much as his blonde friend, torn about the pleasure to come and the reproaches they would incur if they squirted their jizz again.
Nicolas let the sheathed, gliding hand run over his wrapped member; he closed his eyes as he felt desire rise. Moans and small noises came from the other side of the table; he realized he was also cooing from behind his gag. Hervé, for his part, was mainly interested in getting the prized liquid to spurt. He knew leaving his victim out to dry in frustration was a fine torment, but he intended to get his own dose of fun.
Philippe watched his brothers wank his friends and wished he could get the same ‘torture.’ Within thirty seconds from each other, his fellow captives shook and wriggled as semen seeped through the tip of their sheaths.
His brothers laughed.
“I don’t know how much cum they hold,” Hervé said. “It seems we can’t empty them.”
“We’ll have strained wrists before we milk them dry!”
“And it looks like there will be some cleaning on the menu,” the young leader said when he noticed the semen dripping on the tiled floor.
“Since they’ve made a mess already, we can go ahead and have Philippe join them in their misdeeds.”
Cédric stood and walked up to his older brother.
“You’re all going to be punished for poor control; you might as well deserve it.”
His brother’s hands weren’t the most arousing to Philippe, but Grégory was in no state to perform the job. Cédric made it up with experience and know-how when it came to handling his older sibling. less than five minutes after he grabbed the aroused penis and started pumping it the throbbing member spilled its whitish liquid, which the polyamide sheath prevented from flying out. It landed on the floor.
Philippe had to recover from this umpteenth orgasm quickly; he was to lead the cleaning up.
The two younger teens let their charges handle the task. Philippe brought sponges. The maids had to crouch to reach the floor. The process was slow and inefficient, but the show of writhing bodies, their bums so nicely packed within their soft and shiny confines, compensated for the time spent.
Cédric went out to get some ropes while the floor wiping was completed.
“Is it going to be enough, Ced?” his little brother asked. “A punishment tie-up is coming next, we’ll need lots of rope.”
“This will do for the first one. I’ll get more if needed. Who do we start with?”
“Phil can go first. We’ll start by giving him his tea; I don’t think they’ll get their gags off before tomorrow morning. They’re grounded, after all.”
The three captives all imagined this had been planned beforehand; their tormentors knew they could say whatever they wanted without fear of being disagreed with. The teenage maids stood quiet and still.
Cédric removed Philippe’s hobbles, leaving just his hands padlocked behind his back . He tackled the removal of the gag. The many layers came off without hesitation; it still took a while. Hervé had the prisoner’s meal ready—a glass of water, a piece of bread, and an apple—when Cédric eventually uncovered his older brother’s lips.
“Go get some mouthwash, Herv! They will need it!” Cédric smirked. The garments’ odour hadn’t improved by staying inside the boy’s mouth. Hervé came with a plate to collect the dirty laundry and a small cup of minty liquid. Cédric picked the sock and Speedos and let his little brother bring the dose of cleansing solution to his lips.
“Silence rule on, goes without saying. Rinse your mouth well,” Hervé said, handgagging his brother. “Get the spittoon, Cédric.”
Cédric brought a salad bowl and Hervé removed his hand so Philippe could spit out the mouthwash. The operation was repeated with a glass of water.
The routine went on smoothly. The pair of hands toiled bringing the glass or pieces of food to the mouth, holding the diner’s head, and keeping his lips shut when he was to chew or swallow. It ended with the fat plug of the strap gag filling his mouth again, the two ends buckled tight over the nape of his neck.
“We had you eating standing up, excuse our manners! You might want to sit?”
Hervé pointed to the chair he’d pulled away from the table. There were six of the same model in the kitchen, and Philippe had tried all of them out as tie-up implements. Sturdy, the chairs’ bars and rungs turned out to be ideal for their hobby. They made for anchoring points with enough space to thread them around and design creative tie-ups . Philippe even had enough room to slide his arms through the back, which made it possible to stay bound sitting for a rather long time.
“You’ll spend the evening trussed up, lads. This is the punishment for your control issues. On the other hand, you’ve behaved well. So I decided you should be rewarded with some details you weirdoes enjoy.”
Cédric was on the scheme; he completed the explanation.
“Greg will be sniffing socks, Nico will be kept on a leash, and Philippe will enjoy a strict and inescapable chair-tie.”
“With his bum plugged!” his little brother added with a wide smile. “It’s tough choosing for our little Phil. There are so many things he enjoys being done to him….”
This first addition was quickly handled. Philippe faced Nicolas and Grégory, so they didn’t get to see the little silicon device being inserted in their friend’s anus. His eyes opened wide just as the filler settled within his anal ring. Cédric pulled up Phil’s weird undies and helped his brother sit on the chair.
The two standing prisoners witnessed another performance by the increasingly dexterous binding duo. Turns of rope encircled the model’s limbs and solidly linked them to the piece of furniture.
His arms were pulled behind taut and his legs were folded at the knees, spread open with his ankles tied to the back legs of the chair. This of course made his genitals stick out; he’d stopped dripping, but the wetness of the tip was clearly visible. The two-member audience couldn’t help but notice how the knots of Philippe’s brothers caused tremors in his underwear.
The chair featured a high back; the captors’ final touch consisted in fixing the boy’s head to the higher rung, with a folded towel spreading the pressure over the back of his skull.
“We’re done with this one,” Hervé congratulated his brother. “Let’s tackle Blondie’s tie-up.”
Grégory was rid of his gag to get his ‘tea’; he then had his gob filled with the rubber plug of a strap gag.
Cédric grabbed Grégory’s shoulder and pushed him in front of Philippe.
“Philippe has spread his legs so there’s some space for you to sit on.”
“You two like spending time together, don’t you?” Hervé mocked.
Grégory sat facing his captive friend, his buttocks lodged between his best friend’s thighs. Their sheathed genitals brushed against each other, eliciting some emotion. Philippe must have felt him, for he winked in support when he was sure his brothers wouldn’t spot him.
The blond boy experienced the talent of the young riggers as they welded his folded arms to his torso, in a semi-reverse payer. His ankles were linked to the front legs; Cédric held him steady: this position made it difficult to keep his balance.
Hervé had what was needed to prevent a fall. He collared Philippe and Grégory. He brought a 5-inch metal rod with holes at each end and used small padlocks to fix the metal part to the D-rings at the front of the leather bands.
“You’ll be together, and not cheek to cheek as usual. You may trade looks, lover boys!”
Cédric held a plastic bag he’d taken from some hideout.
“And to make sure you enjoy yourself….”
He pulled out long football socks.
“We’ve nicked some from the football club, Greg. They must belong to the adult team,” he said, holding the dirty clothing at arm’s length. “I’m sure they’ll make you quite happy.”
The stench was unfamiliar; had these been his friends’, Grégory would have identified the owner easily. He got to taste the new fragrances even more fully once the two greying socks landed over his face, covering his nostrils. Hervé was in ambush with a red silk scarf, which went over the smelly fabric, forcing the wearer to enjoy the feet odours until their captors would be kind enough to stop the ordeal.
“You’ll get a sniff too, Phil! I hope you like sharing Blondie’s reward.”
“Let me see,” Hervé said, reaching between the two bound bodies. “They both like it! Not a big surprise, I hope they’ll be grateful for our kindness. We saved the best for last. Your turn, Nico…”
TBC
This is an excellent story! Thanks for all the hard work!
-
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thank you Buster. By the way, I've managed to get Nicholas H. to proofread/ edit again, which might make the stories more readable.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School
10. A Peaceful Evening
They fed and watered Nicolas, after allowing him to rinse his mouth. His gag was not replaced by the strap gag but with a leather contraption Hervé owned, which allowed him to turn the young teen into a puppy. He’d used it twice when Nicolas had come for sleepovers. The mask featured a plug that filled his mouth like the strap gag did.
It covered his head completely, with just two holes showing his big blue eyes. Two leather flaps on the sides were the ears of the accessory, giving its wearer a distinct animal look. The snout sewn at the front completed the canine look while letting air in freely. Nicolas enjoyed the smell of leather as they slid the helmet on.
“How cute!” Cédric commented, making sure the nicely crafted piece fit perfectly. “Let’s get the rest of the costume on.”
Hervé approached with the paws, which they slid over Nicolas’ hands before they turned to his feet. The mittens over his hands immobilized his fingers, and the leather boots meant to hold his feet did the job. Nicolas couldn’t move his ankles. There was a collar, of course, with its matching leash.
Nicolas lost his kinky pair of underwear only to gain another one: the puppy shorts he’d tried on before. It featured a tail on the outside with a counterpart inside. It wasn’t a mirror image, thankfully, but the conical plug would keep the kinky outfit in place. Hervé had explained the first time this feature was meant to keep the plug from moving; Nicolas enjoyed the feeling of the round object up his bum. Well lubricated, it slid around, massaging his innards. The tailpiece was made of metal lodged inside a coating of rubber.
“Wag your tail, doggy!” Cédric ordered, once Hervé had adjusted the shorts. He had Nicolas turn his back to his friends, offering them a show with the tail wiggling and the round buttocks wrapped in shiny leather. Nicolas could feel the butt plug moving inside. He liked it.
Hervé kneeled to add a collar on Nicolas and a few inches of chain between his wrists, that way he could crawl slowly on all fours.
“He’s ready to take a walk. I think we’re done, Ced. We may go play video games in the living room.”
Hervé had his pet walk up to where Grégory and Philippe sat.
“Don’t be shy, sniff Greg’s butt! He sat on the chair’s edge just for this occasion.”
Nicolas complied, sticking his snout over the boy’s Lycra garment. He could only rejoice they all had been cleaned up, including their butt cracks; the scent was enticing. Having to sniff intimate boy parts was an activity they’d all grown to enjoy while playing their games.
Cédric stood next to the pair bound to the chair and patted Grégory’s hair.
“I wouldn’t want Greg to be jealous of his friends. He deserves to get his arse plugged up too.”
Hervé smiled.
“I was about to forget. Good job reminding me. Let me handle it. Get away, doggy, I need some space.”
Nicolas stepped away.
Hervé put surgical gloves on. He took a small butt plug from his bag of tricks, with a small jar of Vaseline. He dipped the end of the dildo in it. Grégory straddled the chair while Hervé slid down his stretchy underwear. He set the tip of the contraption on Grégory’s rosebud and pushed slowly. The conical shape stretched the ring of flesh, which eventually closed over the smaller size of the contraption.
Hervé fiddled with the item to make sure it was well in. He then pulled Greg’s undies back up.
“Our lovers aren’t cooling down,” he said, sliding his hands between the bound boys, and feeling that both had filled their penile sheaths to the max. “Let’s make sure their dicks don’t move around too much.”
He picked elastic bands, which his skilled, nimble fingers used to unite the turgid dicks’ tips. Any motion from the pair translated into an erotic stimulation as their knobs rubbed against each other. He didn’t say anything, but then grabbed two scarves and blindfolded the blond boy and his older brother.
“No Morse code blinking, guys. We’ll let you rest and prove us you’re masters of self-control. Fido needs some exercise, and I feel like kicking your ass at FIFA, Ced.”
The young masters left the room, with Nicolas in tow. The pair bound together wriggled around to check the tightness of their bonds.
Grégory soon found out how to communicate. The metal piece linking their collared necks could help them to code messages. He started with the three short strokes signalling he wanted to start exchanging. Philippe replied favourably. With his head stuck to the chair, his motions were limited. He could achieve small jerks, which Grégory picked up. They’d planned and practiced for such a situation. They started trading jokes and comments on what happened to them.
In the nearby living room, Hervé and Cédric threw themselves on the couch.
“Come sniff my dick, Fido!”
Hervé spread his thighs, sitting on the edge of the couch to offer his loin. Nicolas obeyed, approaching to set his dog nose over the younger boy’s satiny shorts. It smelled of washing powder, but it also smelled of dick -- a big boy’s one. The small boy with his angelic smile had been a fully functioning male for quite a while now. He hadn’t been shy in exposing his pupils to the physiological effects puberty had on his genitals. His peculiar tastes were reflected by the bump in the shorts. His bulging member reacted to the leather snout’s caresses, twitching and throbbing.
“Doggy found himself a snack,” Cédric joked, “watch out he doesn’t bite.”
“He’s muzzled all right, there isn’t too much to fear from his teeth. And actually…,” Hervé leaned forward and reached for the buckles keeping the silencing contraption on.
“He won’t bite! Our little pet must be longing for some sausage to suck on!”
Hervé unbuckled the straps closing the hood, loosened the laces, and pulled the leather piece off. Cédric kneeled next to the ’dog’ to assist in making his mouth accessible. He took the muzzle and wiped the saliva-coated plug, setting it aside. He then handgagged Nicolas; Hervé stood and watched his pet, hands on the hips. His fingers slid under his waistband and shucked off his shorts and Speedos. His penis jutted proudly. The young boy sat back over the couch, pointing to his erect dick. He looked in Nicolas’ eyes and smiled.
Cédric accompanied his charge, who made his move towards the offered gift; he freed his captive’s mouth, which opened to take in the enthusiastic penis. Nicolas pursed his lips around the member towards the end, just below the glans. His tongue swirled around, growing the eager cock and yielding some tasty pre-cum. He moved forward bit by bit, his tongue now sliding up and down the shaft, causing Hervé to start grunting. The young teen loved the feeling of his erect penis being swallowed by a willing pet.
The pint-sized master tensed up and moaned, thus warning Nicolas of the incoming semen flow. The warm liquid filled his mouth and Nicolas swallowed it all, pumping on the rod to drain it of its liquid; Hervé ground his hips to get the most of his orgasm while the little cocksucker fulfilled his duties.
Cédric pulled Nicolas away from his first customer. He clamped a hand over his mouth and sat next to his brother.
“You seem to like hot dogs.”
“He’s a hot dog,” Hervé joked, panting.
“I’m not sure he’s had enough. Have another one.”
Cédric let go of Nicolas’ mouth. He stuck his hand in his shorts and pulled out another aroused, slightly bigger penis. Nicolas didn’t need much prodding to get to work. He knew how best to entertain his little master with his oral caresses.
The sucking and tongue-caressing made short work of having Cédric spurt his juice inside his pet’s mouth. Nicolas went on licking the throbbing cock until no sperm came out.
Hervé had recovered and watched the fellatio artist perform his act with interest. Once his brother patted the dog’s head to indicate he should withdraw, Hervé put the muzzle back on.
“Feeling better having emptied your balls, Ced? I feel lighter myself. And ready to compete. I hope you are!”
The youngest lad turned the console on. Both siblings switched to video-game competition mood almost straight away. They were soon lost in their football match. Nicolas faced them on all fours, and after their first game Hervé had him lay his chin on his lap.
The brothers played a championship of several games; it sounded like Cédric had the upper hand. This didn’t seem to bother the little gang leader, whose cock seemed to grow again within the confines of his shorts. His attention was getting back to their live entertainment.
What had to happen happened, and Nicolas had to go for a second round of cock sucking.
The three boys stayed for two hours in the living room, repeating their routine. Eventually, the captors were satisfied and a bit worn down.
“Let’s go see what the others are up to,” Hervé said as Cédric was getting his limp and drained cock back inside his short after his fourth orgasm.
The trio headed back to the kitchen. Cédric held the leash and pulled the tamed boy behind them.
Grégory and Philippe hadn’t freed themselves. The ropes held fast and they were still facing each other, with Grégory’s butt sitting between Philippe’s spread legs. Hervé came closer and watched the knots, pulling and tugging to check they hadn’t loosened.
His inspection went further; he squatted next to the pair to reach between their bodies and feel their sheathed members. The rubber band was still around them, but the tips were slimy. Hervé brought his fingers to his nose and took a whiff, and with an expert connoisseur’s tone gave his verdict.
“They did leak boy juice, Ced. They’re helpless. We’ve got to keep training them, I guess.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t sleep together?”
“Sure, but then they don’t learn control. Let’s get our pupils ready for the night then.”
It was getting late; yet this made for an abrupt end to their evening of fun. The preparations didn’t take long. Cédric ran upstairs to get blankets. They wrapped Grégory and Philippe in wool, with just their heads sticking out. Cédric buckled them up with nylon straps, ensuring the boys would remain wrapped.
“You’ll be warm, it should make sleeping comfortable.”
Grégory’s reply was a clear disagreement, but the gagged grunt went ignored. The two brothers got busy setting blankets on the floor next to the table. Cédric picked up the leash and led Nicolas to his ‘bed.’
“Lie down, doggy…” Nicolas complied, curling into a ball. Hervé laid a blanket down over the obedient dog. His brother wrapped the end of the leash around the closest table leg. He padlocked it to make sure their pet wouldn’t run away.
“We’ll leave you to rest, lads. Behave!” Hervé said. “We’ll go to sleep ourselves, it has been a long day.”
He left, followed by Cédric, who switched the light off. The three captives braced for an uncomfortable night. Nicolas and Philippe coded each other good night. The warmth and nearness of their friends were enough to get the captive trio to catch some sleep eventually.
They were awake long before their minders, who could perceive grunts as they entered the kitchen at seven thirty. Nicolas had joined in the coded conversation; he’d just said Philippe’s brothers were lazy when he heard their steps in the staircase.
“How are our little students doing?” Hervé cheerfully greeted them. “You slept well?”
Cédric interpreted the gagged replies in their favour.
“Glad you did, you’ll be in great shape to pay a visit to some of our friends who want to meet you.”
Realizing their keepers would be unforgiving, the prisoners remained quiet. They wanted to be released and given some bathroom privileges.
They didn’t get such niceties before Cédric and Hervé had had their hot cocoa and toasts and had washed and dressed.
At last, Grégory and Philippe were allowed to stand; their hands remained cuffed behind their back. They helped Nicolas to get on all fours so he could then get to his feet.
The boys were in good hands. Their minders were fully awake and didn’t dawdle. Their gags were padlocked, and they got half an hour to use the sanitary facilities. Cédric freed them one by one, enjoining them to hurry up.
“The gags stay on so you can’t conspire,” Hervé added.
The trio complied and took turns using the toilet or showering. They scrubbed thoroughly and massaged each other with towels as they got off the shower, so as not to leave a single drop of water. They managed to be back from the bathroom within deadline, in the buff as ordered.
Cédric had the compliant pupils sit at the kitchen table. Cuffs were back on, keeping their hands behind their backs. The breakfast didn’t last too long, though the toast and cereals got their hunger satisfied. One brother handgagged the pupil while the other fed him with a spoon or just the hand. The gags were put back on after not only a mouth rinse, but also teeth brushing, with the salad bowl that they’d turned into a spittoon.
They had to get ready so they could move on with their day’s plans. Hervé and Cédric were efficient in dressing up their dolls, who donned their little British schoolboy uniforms. The grey shorts were satin rather than flannel, but the trio looked quite smart and cute once in their nice, tailor-made uniforms. The silky lining inside rubbed pleasantly against their silk underwear, causing Grégory some concern over a potential leak. Their arms were held behind their backs with leather restraints at wrists and elbows, which was very light bondage for this group.
“The uniforms all fall down perfectly, we did a great job,” Cédric commented as he recorded the sight, his eye in the viewfinder. “We just need to put the capes on and we can take them to visit friends.”
Hervé nodded and went to get the capes. These were grey silk and concealed their bodies fully. Cédric filmed him while he put them over the boys’ shoulders, buttoning them and pulling up the hood and the high collars which hid half their faces when up, allowing only their eyes to be visible.
“We’re being invited at a friend’s. Cédric will open the way and I will be behind. Grégory first, followed by Philippe, and Nicolas will walk just in front of me,” Hervé commanded. The lads took their place and started moving.
Walking in a procession on the streets was no longer a novelty. Grégory still feared being found out and running into trouble; he trusted his captors more and more to prevent being discovered by strangers.
The walk was long; it was after half an hour of walking along deserted residential streets that Nicolas realized they were in Rémi’s neighbourhood. Could they be heading to his place?
They didn’t, but eventually they entered a large estate through a gate. Nicolas had seen it before when he’d ridden his bike with Rémi. The line of boys didn’t head to the house but a path led them to a pasture or orchard.
Nicolas spotted Rémi’s little cousins running towards them. The blond little devils, Aurélien and Thomas. There were two other boys with them. They broke the line and Hervé had them stand shoulder to shoulder. The captors whispered in each other’s ears, eager not to be heard.
Thomas and the scrawnier, darker-haired newcomer removed the boys’ capes. The new kid was in awe with the uniforms.
“They look amazing!”
He wasn’t shy and felt the fabric by caressing Nicolas’ bum. The recipient of the kneading couldn’t help but admire Hervé and Cédric’s quest for novelty, which included new accomplices to help them enslave the older teenagers.
“We’ve got your friend,” the cute lad told Nicolas. “We’ve got them all ready for you!”
The three schoolboys were dragged further inside the yard by the gang of kidnappers. They stumbled around a coppice that concealed two boys tightly bound to trees. There were other trunks in a circle, some of them with ropes wrapped around them.
One of the boys was Rémi. He was gagged and blindfolded, unaware of the arrival of the little crew.
“I’m sure Nico wants to greet his little friend. I’ll handle him with you, Marc,” Thomas said. The smaller boys held him so he could get on his knees. They brought his nose close to Rémi’s underwear. It smelled of Rémi and of sex. When this new lad Marc removed the strap gag, Nicolas knew what would happen. Not that he minded; Rémi’s cock was one he enjoyed smelling and sucking.
Thomas grabbed Rémi’s waistband and pulled it down, freeing the cobra. Nicolas opened his mouth, more than willing to play the part of an eager mongoose.
End of this episode
The boys will be back in a new adventure starting next week: Rémi's Weekend.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Back to School
10. A Peaceful Evening
They fed and watered Nicolas, after allowing him to rinse his mouth. His gag was not replaced by the strap gag but with a leather contraption Hervé owned, which allowed him to turn the young teen into a puppy. He’d used it twice when Nicolas had come for sleepovers. The mask featured a plug that filled his mouth like the strap gag did.
It covered his head completely, with just two holes showing his big blue eyes. Two leather flaps on the sides were the ears of the accessory, giving its wearer a distinct animal look. The snout sewn at the front completed the canine look while letting air in freely. Nicolas enjoyed the smell of leather as they slid the helmet on.
“How cute!” Cédric commented, making sure the nicely crafted piece fit perfectly. “Let’s get the rest of the costume on.”
Hervé approached with the paws, which they slid over Nicolas’ hands before they turned to his feet. The mittens over his hands immobilized his fingers, and the leather boots meant to hold his feet did the job. Nicolas couldn’t move his ankles. There was a collar, of course, with its matching leash.
Nicolas lost his kinky pair of underwear only to gain another one: the puppy shorts he’d tried on before. It featured a tail on the outside with a counterpart inside. It wasn’t a mirror image, thankfully, but the conical plug would keep the kinky outfit in place. Hervé had explained the first time this feature was meant to keep the plug from moving; Nicolas enjoyed the feeling of the round object up his bum. Well lubricated, it slid around, massaging his innards. The tailpiece was made of metal lodged inside a coating of rubber.
“Wag your tail, doggy!” Cédric ordered, once Hervé had adjusted the shorts. He had Nicolas turn his back to his friends, offering them a show with the tail wiggling and the round buttocks wrapped in shiny leather. Nicolas could feel the butt plug moving inside. He liked it.
Hervé kneeled to add a collar on Nicolas and a few inches of chain between his wrists, that way he could crawl slowly on all fours.
“He’s ready to take a walk. I think we’re done, Ced. We may go play video games in the living room.”
Hervé had his pet walk up to where Grégory and Philippe sat.
“Don’t be shy, sniff Greg’s butt! He sat on the chair’s edge just for this occasion.”
Nicolas complied, sticking his snout over the boy’s Lycra garment. He could only rejoice they all had been cleaned up, including their butt cracks; the scent was enticing. Having to sniff intimate boy parts was an activity they’d all grown to enjoy while playing their games.
Cédric stood next to the pair bound to the chair and patted Grégory’s hair.
“I wouldn’t want Greg to be jealous of his friends. He deserves to get his arse plugged up too.”
Hervé smiled.
“I was about to forget. Good job reminding me. Let me handle it. Get away, doggy, I need some space.”
Nicolas stepped away.
Hervé put surgical gloves on. He took a small butt plug from his bag of tricks, with a small jar of Vaseline. He dipped the end of the dildo in it. Grégory straddled the chair while Hervé slid down his stretchy underwear. He set the tip of the contraption on Grégory’s rosebud and pushed slowly. The conical shape stretched the ring of flesh, which eventually closed over the smaller size of the contraption.
Hervé fiddled with the item to make sure it was well in. He then pulled Greg’s undies back up.
“Our lovers aren’t cooling down,” he said, sliding his hands between the bound boys, and feeling that both had filled their penile sheaths to the max. “Let’s make sure their dicks don’t move around too much.”
He picked elastic bands, which his skilled, nimble fingers used to unite the turgid dicks’ tips. Any motion from the pair translated into an erotic stimulation as their knobs rubbed against each other. He didn’t say anything, but then grabbed two scarves and blindfolded the blond boy and his older brother.
“No Morse code blinking, guys. We’ll let you rest and prove us you’re masters of self-control. Fido needs some exercise, and I feel like kicking your ass at FIFA, Ced.”
The young masters left the room, with Nicolas in tow. The pair bound together wriggled around to check the tightness of their bonds.
Grégory soon found out how to communicate. The metal piece linking their collared necks could help them to code messages. He started with the three short strokes signalling he wanted to start exchanging. Philippe replied favourably. With his head stuck to the chair, his motions were limited. He could achieve small jerks, which Grégory picked up. They’d planned and practiced for such a situation. They started trading jokes and comments on what happened to them.
In the nearby living room, Hervé and Cédric threw themselves on the couch.
“Come sniff my dick, Fido!”
Hervé spread his thighs, sitting on the edge of the couch to offer his loin. Nicolas obeyed, approaching to set his dog nose over the younger boy’s satiny shorts. It smelled of washing powder, but it also smelled of dick -- a big boy’s one. The small boy with his angelic smile had been a fully functioning male for quite a while now. He hadn’t been shy in exposing his pupils to the physiological effects puberty had on his genitals. His peculiar tastes were reflected by the bump in the shorts. His bulging member reacted to the leather snout’s caresses, twitching and throbbing.
“Doggy found himself a snack,” Cédric joked, “watch out he doesn’t bite.”
“He’s muzzled all right, there isn’t too much to fear from his teeth. And actually…,” Hervé leaned forward and reached for the buckles keeping the silencing contraption on.
“He won’t bite! Our little pet must be longing for some sausage to suck on!”
Hervé unbuckled the straps closing the hood, loosened the laces, and pulled the leather piece off. Cédric kneeled next to the ’dog’ to assist in making his mouth accessible. He took the muzzle and wiped the saliva-coated plug, setting it aside. He then handgagged Nicolas; Hervé stood and watched his pet, hands on the hips. His fingers slid under his waistband and shucked off his shorts and Speedos. His penis jutted proudly. The young boy sat back over the couch, pointing to his erect dick. He looked in Nicolas’ eyes and smiled.
Cédric accompanied his charge, who made his move towards the offered gift; he freed his captive’s mouth, which opened to take in the enthusiastic penis. Nicolas pursed his lips around the member towards the end, just below the glans. His tongue swirled around, growing the eager cock and yielding some tasty pre-cum. He moved forward bit by bit, his tongue now sliding up and down the shaft, causing Hervé to start grunting. The young teen loved the feeling of his erect penis being swallowed by a willing pet.
The pint-sized master tensed up and moaned, thus warning Nicolas of the incoming semen flow. The warm liquid filled his mouth and Nicolas swallowed it all, pumping on the rod to drain it of its liquid; Hervé ground his hips to get the most of his orgasm while the little cocksucker fulfilled his duties.
Cédric pulled Nicolas away from his first customer. He clamped a hand over his mouth and sat next to his brother.
“You seem to like hot dogs.”
“He’s a hot dog,” Hervé joked, panting.
“I’m not sure he’s had enough. Have another one.”
Cédric let go of Nicolas’ mouth. He stuck his hand in his shorts and pulled out another aroused, slightly bigger penis. Nicolas didn’t need much prodding to get to work. He knew how best to entertain his little master with his oral caresses.
The sucking and tongue-caressing made short work of having Cédric spurt his juice inside his pet’s mouth. Nicolas went on licking the throbbing cock until no sperm came out.
Hervé had recovered and watched the fellatio artist perform his act with interest. Once his brother patted the dog’s head to indicate he should withdraw, Hervé put the muzzle back on.
“Feeling better having emptied your balls, Ced? I feel lighter myself. And ready to compete. I hope you are!”
The youngest lad turned the console on. Both siblings switched to video-game competition mood almost straight away. They were soon lost in their football match. Nicolas faced them on all fours, and after their first game Hervé had him lay his chin on his lap.
The brothers played a championship of several games; it sounded like Cédric had the upper hand. This didn’t seem to bother the little gang leader, whose cock seemed to grow again within the confines of his shorts. His attention was getting back to their live entertainment.
What had to happen happened, and Nicolas had to go for a second round of cock sucking.
The three boys stayed for two hours in the living room, repeating their routine. Eventually, the captors were satisfied and a bit worn down.
“Let’s go see what the others are up to,” Hervé said as Cédric was getting his limp and drained cock back inside his short after his fourth orgasm.
The trio headed back to the kitchen. Cédric held the leash and pulled the tamed boy behind them.
Grégory and Philippe hadn’t freed themselves. The ropes held fast and they were still facing each other, with Grégory’s butt sitting between Philippe’s spread legs. Hervé came closer and watched the knots, pulling and tugging to check they hadn’t loosened.
His inspection went further; he squatted next to the pair to reach between their bodies and feel their sheathed members. The rubber band was still around them, but the tips were slimy. Hervé brought his fingers to his nose and took a whiff, and with an expert connoisseur’s tone gave his verdict.
“They did leak boy juice, Ced. They’re helpless. We’ve got to keep training them, I guess.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t sleep together?”
“Sure, but then they don’t learn control. Let’s get our pupils ready for the night then.”
It was getting late; yet this made for an abrupt end to their evening of fun. The preparations didn’t take long. Cédric ran upstairs to get blankets. They wrapped Grégory and Philippe in wool, with just their heads sticking out. Cédric buckled them up with nylon straps, ensuring the boys would remain wrapped.
“You’ll be warm, it should make sleeping comfortable.”
Grégory’s reply was a clear disagreement, but the gagged grunt went ignored. The two brothers got busy setting blankets on the floor next to the table. Cédric picked up the leash and led Nicolas to his ‘bed.’
“Lie down, doggy…” Nicolas complied, curling into a ball. Hervé laid a blanket down over the obedient dog. His brother wrapped the end of the leash around the closest table leg. He padlocked it to make sure their pet wouldn’t run away.
“We’ll leave you to rest, lads. Behave!” Hervé said. “We’ll go to sleep ourselves, it has been a long day.”
He left, followed by Cédric, who switched the light off. The three captives braced for an uncomfortable night. Nicolas and Philippe coded each other good night. The warmth and nearness of their friends were enough to get the captive trio to catch some sleep eventually.
They were awake long before their minders, who could perceive grunts as they entered the kitchen at seven thirty. Nicolas had joined in the coded conversation; he’d just said Philippe’s brothers were lazy when he heard their steps in the staircase.
“How are our little students doing?” Hervé cheerfully greeted them. “You slept well?”
Cédric interpreted the gagged replies in their favour.
“Glad you did, you’ll be in great shape to pay a visit to some of our friends who want to meet you.”
Realizing their keepers would be unforgiving, the prisoners remained quiet. They wanted to be released and given some bathroom privileges.
They didn’t get such niceties before Cédric and Hervé had had their hot cocoa and toasts and had washed and dressed.
At last, Grégory and Philippe were allowed to stand; their hands remained cuffed behind their back. They helped Nicolas to get on all fours so he could then get to his feet.
The boys were in good hands. Their minders were fully awake and didn’t dawdle. Their gags were padlocked, and they got half an hour to use the sanitary facilities. Cédric freed them one by one, enjoining them to hurry up.
“The gags stay on so you can’t conspire,” Hervé added.
The trio complied and took turns using the toilet or showering. They scrubbed thoroughly and massaged each other with towels as they got off the shower, so as not to leave a single drop of water. They managed to be back from the bathroom within deadline, in the buff as ordered.
Cédric had the compliant pupils sit at the kitchen table. Cuffs were back on, keeping their hands behind their backs. The breakfast didn’t last too long, though the toast and cereals got their hunger satisfied. One brother handgagged the pupil while the other fed him with a spoon or just the hand. The gags were put back on after not only a mouth rinse, but also teeth brushing, with the salad bowl that they’d turned into a spittoon.
They had to get ready so they could move on with their day’s plans. Hervé and Cédric were efficient in dressing up their dolls, who donned their little British schoolboy uniforms. The grey shorts were satin rather than flannel, but the trio looked quite smart and cute once in their nice, tailor-made uniforms. The silky lining inside rubbed pleasantly against their silk underwear, causing Grégory some concern over a potential leak. Their arms were held behind their backs with leather restraints at wrists and elbows, which was very light bondage for this group.
“The uniforms all fall down perfectly, we did a great job,” Cédric commented as he recorded the sight, his eye in the viewfinder. “We just need to put the capes on and we can take them to visit friends.”
Hervé nodded and went to get the capes. These were grey silk and concealed their bodies fully. Cédric filmed him while he put them over the boys’ shoulders, buttoning them and pulling up the hood and the high collars which hid half their faces when up, allowing only their eyes to be visible.
“We’re being invited at a friend’s. Cédric will open the way and I will be behind. Grégory first, followed by Philippe, and Nicolas will walk just in front of me,” Hervé commanded. The lads took their place and started moving.
Walking in a procession on the streets was no longer a novelty. Grégory still feared being found out and running into trouble; he trusted his captors more and more to prevent being discovered by strangers.
The walk was long; it was after half an hour of walking along deserted residential streets that Nicolas realized they were in Rémi’s neighbourhood. Could they be heading to his place?
They didn’t, but eventually they entered a large estate through a gate. Nicolas had seen it before when he’d ridden his bike with Rémi. The line of boys didn’t head to the house but a path led them to a pasture or orchard.
Nicolas spotted Rémi’s little cousins running towards them. The blond little devils, Aurélien and Thomas. There were two other boys with them. They broke the line and Hervé had them stand shoulder to shoulder. The captors whispered in each other’s ears, eager not to be heard.
Thomas and the scrawnier, darker-haired newcomer removed the boys’ capes. The new kid was in awe with the uniforms.
“They look amazing!”
He wasn’t shy and felt the fabric by caressing Nicolas’ bum. The recipient of the kneading couldn’t help but admire Hervé and Cédric’s quest for novelty, which included new accomplices to help them enslave the older teenagers.
“We’ve got your friend,” the cute lad told Nicolas. “We’ve got them all ready for you!”
The three schoolboys were dragged further inside the yard by the gang of kidnappers. They stumbled around a coppice that concealed two boys tightly bound to trees. There were other trunks in a circle, some of them with ropes wrapped around them.
One of the boys was Rémi. He was gagged and blindfolded, unaware of the arrival of the little crew.
“I’m sure Nico wants to greet his little friend. I’ll handle him with you, Marc,” Thomas said. The smaller boys held him so he could get on his knees. They brought his nose close to Rémi’s underwear. It smelled of Rémi and of sex. When this new lad Marc removed the strap gag, Nicolas knew what would happen. Not that he minded; Rémi’s cock was one he enjoyed smelling and sucking.
Thomas grabbed Rémi’s waistband and pulled it down, freeing the cobra. Nicolas opened his mouth, more than willing to play the part of an eager mongoose.
End of this episode
The boys will be back in a new adventure starting next week: Rémi's Weekend.
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Hey people. Here comes a new adventure in the saga. I'm breaking off the chronological continuity and moving forward a few months in time after the Naughty Siblings/ Back to School episodes, which took place before the Summer holidays. The Summer will be the object of further tales, do not worry.
Thanks to Nicholas H. for his helpful edits. I hope you enjoy the smoother read they create.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 1 – The Bus Ride
Rémi’s belly was rumbling; he had butterflies in his stomach. He could also feel his member pushing against the confines of the chastity device he was locked in, which was a counter-intuitive reaction to his fear of being found out. At least, not having a boner tenting his shorts could help him remain decent in public.
He kept looking at the floor. He was sitting on the bus next to an old man. He had mixed feelings about his current predicament. Had the old man chosen to seat there so he could watch his bare legs and his nylon-wrapped crotch?
He’d been on the bus for fifteen minutes so far. He managed to keep to himself almost the whole trip. He was proud of blending in enough that no one had talked to him. He had planned to sign he was mute but the prospect of handling this tricky situation got him nervous. What if someone tried to use sign language?
Rémi had been ‘invited’ to a sleepover at Théo’s. Not that he could turn it down. It was an order from Hervé, Philippe’s little brother, who ruled their gang. Théo was one of Hervé’s classmates; the cute thirteen-year-old enjoyed bossing other boys around.
With his friend Marc, they’d dominated one of their friends, Max. He’d then found out Hervé had several teenage boys under his control, starting with his brother Philippe, whose friends Grégory, Nicolas, and eventually Rémi had been enrolled in the younger boy’s servants stable.
Rémi had received a call on Wednesday evening. Hervé and Théo were on the line, giggling. They’d ‘invited’ Rémi to a sleepover at Théo’s, although Hervé hadn’t said he would be there. He had given his instructions nonetheless: how to dress, which accessories to use, the time he was to get at Théo’s or which bus route to take…
Rémi had spent almost an hour in the bathroom, cleaning up to his diminutive master’s standards. He made sure to be clean inside and out, and that he’d remained hairless. He paid particular attention to the plastic device that was locked around his genitals. He’d gotten used to it, though he still felt some frustration, especially at night.
Then he’d dressed up: navy blue Speedos, satiny green shorts, red football jersey and long assorted socks, with a pair of sneakers and he was almost ready to go.
Rémi pulled his jersey’s sleeves up to put leather cuffs on. They were thin; the D-ring sewn on the outside wasn’t too big. He easily hid them under his sleeves.
Rémi grabbed the bag he’d prepared in the morning and went through the kitchen to bid his mom goodbye.
“I hope you’ll behave. These friends of yours are a bit younger than you, so you’ll have to act as a grown-up…”
Rémi didn’t antagonize his mother; he didn’t mind that she had misconceptions about his social relationships and the games they played. She wouldn’t be too keen on her son taking part in very adult activities.
He went out the house and pulled a piece of hard plastic out of his bag: the plastic clay mould Hervé had made him. It fully filled the whole front of his mouth once closed. Rémi hid behind a tree to make sure no one would see him and stuck the mouth-filler inside his gob. It lined perfectly to his oral cavity. As he closed his jaws, the device trapped his tongue and speaking became impossible.
Rémi put the backpack over his shoulders; with his bus ticket in hand, he could start his journey. The weather was mild for mid-September. It was unlikely his bare legs and shiny outfit would attract too much attention; Rémi hoped he looked young enough. His bare, shaved legs could pass for those of a younger boy.
With his speech disabled by the mass of hardened plastic clay, he had to avoid any verbal interaction. Rémi looked away from people when he reached the more crowded place of town where the bus stop was.
He was relieved to see a bus coming immediately. Rather than wait ten minutes as he had planned, Rémi was early enough to catch one running late. He was better off being at his destination early to please the punctuality fiends he was visiting.
Rémi stamped his ticket, looking down at his feet to avoid any connection with the driver, who didn’t pay attention to him anyway. He went to the back of the bus, picking a window seat facing to avoid watching other passengers. The mass in his mouth would be embarrassing to remove should he be talked to. Thankfully, it was a time when the bus was almost empty. He faced five vacant seats.
People boarded the bus at every stop. Rémi hoped no one would sit next to him; he didn’t dare watch the door, still trying to blend in as much as possible. He stood straight, his head slightly bowed, and looked down, noticing how well he’d used hair removal the evening before. His thighs were exposed by the scarcity of gleaming fabric. Two stops before his destination, an elderly gentleman climbed and sat next to Rémi.
Rémi closed his eyes and pretended to snooze to prevent any interaction. Diving into darkness had him imagine the man looking at the display of bare young flesh he’d become quite aware of.
Rémi opened his eyes. He couldn’t know for sure whether the man ogled his thighs.
His perfect immobility paid off. The man kept to himself. When Rémi had to get off the bus, five minutes later, he stepped in front of the man. The vehicle braked suddenly, which made him land on his fellow passenger’s lap, his hand brushing against the man’s trousers.
The assault victim instinctively rose his right hand, catching Rémi’s ample and gleaming bum. His left one came to rest on the boy’s bare thigh, dangerously close to his imprisoned genitals. This lasted just a second, but it felt like an eternity to Rémi. He had the distinct impression the hand resting over his buttock was kneading him.
The man had to feel embarrassed too, or he minded having a boy on his lap. His hands left Rémi’s midsection to grab his waist and help him back on his feet.
Unable to apologize and beet red, the sportswear-wearing lad rushed to the exit, waiting for the door-opening signal.
The old man scrutinized the young man who’d tripped in front of him. He was waiting for some kind of apology.
“No sorry, sir? No thank you? Didn’t your mom teach you some manners?”
The bus had stopped; Rémi smashed the button to freedom and the gates parted, allowing him to board off.
“That’s it? You just pretend I don’t exist?”
Rémi felt totally helpless, fearing the man would follow him to demand an apology. Thankfully for our young hero, he just kept on loudly complaining about young people who were overly coddled in this day and age. The doors closed. The bus left. The clumsy pupil was saved.
Two familiar shapes appeared from behind the deserted bus stop: Aurélien and Thomas. Rémi’s heart kicked in again, sending some more adrenalin through his system.
With all his thoughts on Théo, Marc, and Hervé, he’d forgotten about his mischievous cousins. The pair of boys looked the most angelic to outsiders or even relatives. Nevertheless, they’d been involved in the devious hobby for six months now. They’d proved worthy of Hervé’s trust, babysitting their cousin when needed and using bonds and gags creatively to subdue him fully.
A few minutes before, while sitting on the bus with a passenger sitting next to him, he’d regretted sticking the plastic shape in his mouth. Now he was glad. The younger lads had gotten him used to surprise inspections.
“Did we hear right? That old man sounded pissed. You managed to upset a passenger on the bus? My, Rémi,” Aurélien sneered, “you can’t help but get into trouble. I’ll say there’s more training for you ahead!”
Aurélien reached for his cousin’s lips. Rémi stood obediently and opened his jaws slightly so his younger cousin could peek inside to see the mouth-filling mass.
“It was worth our time coming here to learn Rémi gets in trouble when he’s left on his own. At least it seems he’s got the gag plug in.”
“Let’s check the rest. This way,” Thomas said, pointing to the small public park behind the bus stop.
The boys framed Rémi on each side, resolute guards taking their captive to a spot behind a hedge. Aurélien grabbed his backpack. The hidden spot featured empty bottles and cigarette butts. This was the perfect place for vice.
“You got in early,” Thomas said, “so we have time to have a close look. A two.”
Rémi interpreted the figure immediately. He’d been quizzed on his standing positions enough times. He crossed his fingers behind his head and stood straight, with ankles close together.
They started sniffing his jersey, inspecting it for stains. They then lifted it to check his armpits were as smooth as they were supposed to be. Aurélien stuck his finger in the uncovered belly button.
“Decent hygiene so far. Let’s see what’s going on lower down.”
The brothers crouched together and they slid the shorts down. Their nose almost touched the nylon wrapping the caged member.
“It doesn’t smell like pee. Good.”
Smiling, they both looked up to their cousin’s blank face. Though their pupil kept his eyes up and forward, their grin was so wide it cast waves he could feel.
“I’ll say he deserves a reward,” Thomas said.
He reached inside his tracksuit trousers and got out a key on a chain. Rémi recognized it straight away.
“You’re generous, Tom. I hope he’ll be worthy of the favour!”
The skilled fingers fumbled with the small padlock keeping the cock cage around Rémi’s cock and balls.
“Don’t worry, Rémi,” said Thomas as he pulled the device away slowly. “I’ll make sure you get it back.”
Thomas caught the swelling piece of meat right away, putting it back in its polyamide protective sheath. The way the younger boy adjusted his cock, letting his finger push everything in place was a tantalizing ordeal for Rémi.
“He’s growing big, Aurel, his thing needed some space!”
“Let this be a test,” Aurélien said, now standing and looking into the eyes of his older cousin. “You need to be dry when you get to Théo’s place. And just to make sure you keep following our instructions…”
Aurélien had a roll of thin, transparent surgical tape ready. He stuck a thin rectangle over Rémi’s lips. It barely went beyond the ruby-hued flesh.
“You’ll bear our seal when you get there!”
This was yet another of their tricks: the piece of tape that he wasn’t allowed to remove even when his hands weren’t hindered by bonds or chains.
Thomas stood up also. He removed Rémi’s eyeglasses, plunging the boy into a foggy world.
“You look much better without glasses, and we don’t want you to break them. Théo told me there were bullies in his neighbourhood.”
Rémi could feel his recently liberated penis reacting to the discipline his cousins forced on him.
The boys both checked the contents of the bag. Rémi had faithfully followed their instructions.
“Fine job. This means Marc and Théo won’t have to punish you.”
“Glad to help out, cousin,” Thomas added, his fingers resting over Rémi’s shorts again, feeling his lust rising. “We’d feel bad knowing you spend the weekend getting spanked, or bound and gagged all the time with mean pranks and torments.”
“Marc likes whacking his charges’ bums, but only once he’s gotten them viciously gagged.”
They knew their older cousin well. Almost one minute of this verbal stimulation and the soft caress of fingertips got Rémi’s blood pressure up.
Aurélien cut his torture short.
“Time to move on. We don’t want Rémi to be late, plus we’re expected somewhere else. At rest! You may get going.”
Framed by his relatives, Rémi walked the few steps into the street; he was to go left from there, just two or three minutes away from his destination. Aurélien let go of his shoulder, getting him on his way.
“Say hi to Marc and Théo for us!”
TBC
Thanks to Nicholas H. for his helpful edits. I hope you enjoy the smoother read they create.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 1 – The Bus Ride
Rémi’s belly was rumbling; he had butterflies in his stomach. He could also feel his member pushing against the confines of the chastity device he was locked in, which was a counter-intuitive reaction to his fear of being found out. At least, not having a boner tenting his shorts could help him remain decent in public.
He kept looking at the floor. He was sitting on the bus next to an old man. He had mixed feelings about his current predicament. Had the old man chosen to seat there so he could watch his bare legs and his nylon-wrapped crotch?
He’d been on the bus for fifteen minutes so far. He managed to keep to himself almost the whole trip. He was proud of blending in enough that no one had talked to him. He had planned to sign he was mute but the prospect of handling this tricky situation got him nervous. What if someone tried to use sign language?
Rémi had been ‘invited’ to a sleepover at Théo’s. Not that he could turn it down. It was an order from Hervé, Philippe’s little brother, who ruled their gang. Théo was one of Hervé’s classmates; the cute thirteen-year-old enjoyed bossing other boys around.
With his friend Marc, they’d dominated one of their friends, Max. He’d then found out Hervé had several teenage boys under his control, starting with his brother Philippe, whose friends Grégory, Nicolas, and eventually Rémi had been enrolled in the younger boy’s servants stable.
Rémi had received a call on Wednesday evening. Hervé and Théo were on the line, giggling. They’d ‘invited’ Rémi to a sleepover at Théo’s, although Hervé hadn’t said he would be there. He had given his instructions nonetheless: how to dress, which accessories to use, the time he was to get at Théo’s or which bus route to take…
Rémi had spent almost an hour in the bathroom, cleaning up to his diminutive master’s standards. He made sure to be clean inside and out, and that he’d remained hairless. He paid particular attention to the plastic device that was locked around his genitals. He’d gotten used to it, though he still felt some frustration, especially at night.
Then he’d dressed up: navy blue Speedos, satiny green shorts, red football jersey and long assorted socks, with a pair of sneakers and he was almost ready to go.
Rémi pulled his jersey’s sleeves up to put leather cuffs on. They were thin; the D-ring sewn on the outside wasn’t too big. He easily hid them under his sleeves.
Rémi grabbed the bag he’d prepared in the morning and went through the kitchen to bid his mom goodbye.
“I hope you’ll behave. These friends of yours are a bit younger than you, so you’ll have to act as a grown-up…”
Rémi didn’t antagonize his mother; he didn’t mind that she had misconceptions about his social relationships and the games they played. She wouldn’t be too keen on her son taking part in very adult activities.
He went out the house and pulled a piece of hard plastic out of his bag: the plastic clay mould Hervé had made him. It fully filled the whole front of his mouth once closed. Rémi hid behind a tree to make sure no one would see him and stuck the mouth-filler inside his gob. It lined perfectly to his oral cavity. As he closed his jaws, the device trapped his tongue and speaking became impossible.
Rémi put the backpack over his shoulders; with his bus ticket in hand, he could start his journey. The weather was mild for mid-September. It was unlikely his bare legs and shiny outfit would attract too much attention; Rémi hoped he looked young enough. His bare, shaved legs could pass for those of a younger boy.
With his speech disabled by the mass of hardened plastic clay, he had to avoid any verbal interaction. Rémi looked away from people when he reached the more crowded place of town where the bus stop was.
He was relieved to see a bus coming immediately. Rather than wait ten minutes as he had planned, Rémi was early enough to catch one running late. He was better off being at his destination early to please the punctuality fiends he was visiting.
Rémi stamped his ticket, looking down at his feet to avoid any connection with the driver, who didn’t pay attention to him anyway. He went to the back of the bus, picking a window seat facing to avoid watching other passengers. The mass in his mouth would be embarrassing to remove should he be talked to. Thankfully, it was a time when the bus was almost empty. He faced five vacant seats.
People boarded the bus at every stop. Rémi hoped no one would sit next to him; he didn’t dare watch the door, still trying to blend in as much as possible. He stood straight, his head slightly bowed, and looked down, noticing how well he’d used hair removal the evening before. His thighs were exposed by the scarcity of gleaming fabric. Two stops before his destination, an elderly gentleman climbed and sat next to Rémi.
Rémi closed his eyes and pretended to snooze to prevent any interaction. Diving into darkness had him imagine the man looking at the display of bare young flesh he’d become quite aware of.
Rémi opened his eyes. He couldn’t know for sure whether the man ogled his thighs.
His perfect immobility paid off. The man kept to himself. When Rémi had to get off the bus, five minutes later, he stepped in front of the man. The vehicle braked suddenly, which made him land on his fellow passenger’s lap, his hand brushing against the man’s trousers.
The assault victim instinctively rose his right hand, catching Rémi’s ample and gleaming bum. His left one came to rest on the boy’s bare thigh, dangerously close to his imprisoned genitals. This lasted just a second, but it felt like an eternity to Rémi. He had the distinct impression the hand resting over his buttock was kneading him.
The man had to feel embarrassed too, or he minded having a boy on his lap. His hands left Rémi’s midsection to grab his waist and help him back on his feet.
Unable to apologize and beet red, the sportswear-wearing lad rushed to the exit, waiting for the door-opening signal.
The old man scrutinized the young man who’d tripped in front of him. He was waiting for some kind of apology.
“No sorry, sir? No thank you? Didn’t your mom teach you some manners?”
The bus had stopped; Rémi smashed the button to freedom and the gates parted, allowing him to board off.
“That’s it? You just pretend I don’t exist?”
Rémi felt totally helpless, fearing the man would follow him to demand an apology. Thankfully for our young hero, he just kept on loudly complaining about young people who were overly coddled in this day and age. The doors closed. The bus left. The clumsy pupil was saved.
Two familiar shapes appeared from behind the deserted bus stop: Aurélien and Thomas. Rémi’s heart kicked in again, sending some more adrenalin through his system.
With all his thoughts on Théo, Marc, and Hervé, he’d forgotten about his mischievous cousins. The pair of boys looked the most angelic to outsiders or even relatives. Nevertheless, they’d been involved in the devious hobby for six months now. They’d proved worthy of Hervé’s trust, babysitting their cousin when needed and using bonds and gags creatively to subdue him fully.
A few minutes before, while sitting on the bus with a passenger sitting next to him, he’d regretted sticking the plastic shape in his mouth. Now he was glad. The younger lads had gotten him used to surprise inspections.
“Did we hear right? That old man sounded pissed. You managed to upset a passenger on the bus? My, Rémi,” Aurélien sneered, “you can’t help but get into trouble. I’ll say there’s more training for you ahead!”
Aurélien reached for his cousin’s lips. Rémi stood obediently and opened his jaws slightly so his younger cousin could peek inside to see the mouth-filling mass.
“It was worth our time coming here to learn Rémi gets in trouble when he’s left on his own. At least it seems he’s got the gag plug in.”
“Let’s check the rest. This way,” Thomas said, pointing to the small public park behind the bus stop.
The boys framed Rémi on each side, resolute guards taking their captive to a spot behind a hedge. Aurélien grabbed his backpack. The hidden spot featured empty bottles and cigarette butts. This was the perfect place for vice.
“You got in early,” Thomas said, “so we have time to have a close look. A two.”
Rémi interpreted the figure immediately. He’d been quizzed on his standing positions enough times. He crossed his fingers behind his head and stood straight, with ankles close together.
They started sniffing his jersey, inspecting it for stains. They then lifted it to check his armpits were as smooth as they were supposed to be. Aurélien stuck his finger in the uncovered belly button.
“Decent hygiene so far. Let’s see what’s going on lower down.”
The brothers crouched together and they slid the shorts down. Their nose almost touched the nylon wrapping the caged member.
“It doesn’t smell like pee. Good.”
Smiling, they both looked up to their cousin’s blank face. Though their pupil kept his eyes up and forward, their grin was so wide it cast waves he could feel.
“I’ll say he deserves a reward,” Thomas said.
He reached inside his tracksuit trousers and got out a key on a chain. Rémi recognized it straight away.
“You’re generous, Tom. I hope he’ll be worthy of the favour!”
The skilled fingers fumbled with the small padlock keeping the cock cage around Rémi’s cock and balls.
“Don’t worry, Rémi,” said Thomas as he pulled the device away slowly. “I’ll make sure you get it back.”
Thomas caught the swelling piece of meat right away, putting it back in its polyamide protective sheath. The way the younger boy adjusted his cock, letting his finger push everything in place was a tantalizing ordeal for Rémi.
“He’s growing big, Aurel, his thing needed some space!”
“Let this be a test,” Aurélien said, now standing and looking into the eyes of his older cousin. “You need to be dry when you get to Théo’s place. And just to make sure you keep following our instructions…”
Aurélien had a roll of thin, transparent surgical tape ready. He stuck a thin rectangle over Rémi’s lips. It barely went beyond the ruby-hued flesh.
“You’ll bear our seal when you get there!”
This was yet another of their tricks: the piece of tape that he wasn’t allowed to remove even when his hands weren’t hindered by bonds or chains.
Thomas stood up also. He removed Rémi’s eyeglasses, plunging the boy into a foggy world.
“You look much better without glasses, and we don’t want you to break them. Théo told me there were bullies in his neighbourhood.”
Rémi could feel his recently liberated penis reacting to the discipline his cousins forced on him.
The boys both checked the contents of the bag. Rémi had faithfully followed their instructions.
“Fine job. This means Marc and Théo won’t have to punish you.”
“Glad to help out, cousin,” Thomas added, his fingers resting over Rémi’s shorts again, feeling his lust rising. “We’d feel bad knowing you spend the weekend getting spanked, or bound and gagged all the time with mean pranks and torments.”
“Marc likes whacking his charges’ bums, but only once he’s gotten them viciously gagged.”
They knew their older cousin well. Almost one minute of this verbal stimulation and the soft caress of fingertips got Rémi’s blood pressure up.
Aurélien cut his torture short.
“Time to move on. We don’t want Rémi to be late, plus we’re expected somewhere else. At rest! You may get going.”
Framed by his relatives, Rémi walked the few steps into the street; he was to go left from there, just two or three minutes away from his destination. Aurélien let go of his shoulder, getting him on his way.
“Say hi to Marc and Théo for us!”
TBC
-
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
It's going to be a light posting week. Only this installment of STU, with Rémi getting in further trouble.
There will be new Simon and Danny chapters in the weeks to come, do not fear.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 2 – Reaching Destination
Rémi started his final minutes of walking with his backpack on his shoulders; he could not only feel the weight of the content he’d packed inside, he also felt the weight of his masters’ eyes following him. His vision was blurry without his glasses; the walk was short and there was still nobody around.
The supervised pupil had trouble thinking about anything but the feelings of joy and release down in his undies. Every step had the shorts brush over the Speedos, an intoxicating feeling.
He walked the two-hundred metres to the next intersection where he was to turn left. At the corner, there was another small park, mirroring the one he came from. He suddenly felt the need to handle his shorts-swelling issue. He was early; if he was quick no one would notice, he thought.
Rémi quickly checked that he was the only visitor of this small chunk of nature. His desire ran wild. He moved behind some foliage, got his cock out from its wrapping and his fingers started pumping on the inflated member. As though it had a life of its own, his hand found its favourite location over his rod for a perfect grip; it felt that way to Rémi. After such a long time of having his member deprived of caresses by the cage, the boy shivered with excitement.
Rémi’s fancies ran wild below his skull. Being fondled by an older perv, then having his cousins check on him, plus the prospect of being at Marc and Théo’s mercy again.
His hand brought the wanted release. His turgid cock spat out its seed rather soon. Rémi kept from screaming, feeling he shouldn’t have the piece of tape over his lips move.
Then it struck him he had no paper towel or hankie. He squeezed his softer penis to get all the leaky juice out. He then spotted a square of lawn. He knelt on it, touching it before to be sure it was soft and devoid of glass or dog shit as such a place could be.
With his dong still outside his Speedos, he ripped a handful of smooth grass and rubbed his penis with it. He wiped most of the cum, threw the grass away, and resumed with fresh leaves. Once he felt all the liquid was gone, he rubbed his glans again. It felt dry.
Rémi was carefully putting his disgorged member back inside his swimwear and shorts, ready to savour a minute or two of post-orgasm, when he heard trees rustling behind him. He was decent to face strangers; yet the chuckles he heard triggered another rush of adrenalin. He turned to face them.
“Darn, Rémi,” Aurélien sniggered. “It seems we can’t leave you on your own two minutes without you disobeying!”
“Yeah, we gave your willy some freedom. Looks like you abused our kindness,” Thomas added, “hands behind your back.”
Rémi felt very hot from the embarrassment of falling victim to yet another prank of his dreadful cousins. A deer caught in the headlights, he now had to submit. He offered his wrists crossed, which his younger cousin trapped with a small padlock closed over the cuffs’ D-rings.
“We’ll take you to Théo’s. Of course, this adds to your penalty points tally. Some spanking might teach you to obey,” Aurélien lectured. “Follow me and don’t try anything funny.”
He walked the path out of the park and took a quick look to make sure there wasn’t any unwanted passer-by in sight. The street was empty.
“Go first,” Aurélien ordered, grabbing Rémi’s shoulder and pushing him forward. Rémi could feel his cousins on his heels. They were actually concealing his manacled wrists for anyone coming from behind and were ready to free them if someone showed up from the front. The trio walked the thankfully short distance that still separated them from their destination without meeting anyone.
The large house’s entrance was at the top of a flight of stairs, which they climbed fast. Aurélien turned to Rémi.
“Ring the bell, you’re the visitor.”
Having no hands was no excuse when in his captors’ control, so Rémi approached the door and leaned into the doorbell button with his nose. It was dark and contrasted with the doorframe, which helped to aim given his blurry vision.
Théo and Marc were eagerly waiting for their guest. They loved disciplining and dominating other boys; they’d cheered when Hervé had suggested they have Rémi over. The duo was creative when it came to design games involving ropes and thick gags, and they had spent days planning that evening’s festivities.
Théo and Marc were both close to their fourteenth birthdays. Though they had cherubic faces, they had fully functioning genitals and enjoyed their new hobby. Just on that day, Théo had wanked three times, all before noon. His underwear kept traces of its wearer’s self-pleasuring activities. He’d saved himself for Rémi’s arrival, and talking about their charge with Marc hadn’t soothed his lustful mind.
They both jumped when the doorbell rang. With their eyes on the clock, they’d counted down the seconds prior to Rémi’s arrival and smiled at their guest’s punctuality. It was so much fun being friends with Hervé and bossing older boys around.
Marc dashed into the entry hall while Théo remained sitting royally on the couch. The black-haired boy thrust the door wide open, ready to welcome their guest. He looked surprised to see Aurélien and Thomas.
“Hey guys! I thought Rémi was coming on his own. Isn’t he supposed to be a good behaved boy by now?” he asked. He cast a hungry smile towards his guest.
“He was naughty,” Thomas answered. “A good spanking is in order.”
They didn’t even bother giving details on their pupil’s misbehaviour. Aurélien just wanted to make sure the number of strokes had to be doubled.
“He’s in good hands, so we’ll leave you to handle the twerp,” Aurélien said. “We can’t stay.”
“You’ve got somewhere else to be indeed,” Marc winked, “we’ll take it from here.” He turned to the third guest; the quiet, immobile young man hadn’t spoken a word.
“Good evening!” Marc greeted Rémi. “Come in, we’ve been waiting for you,” he said, stepping aside.
Marc was a skinny, black-haired boy and Rémi found him cute; he wore tracksuit pants, as soft and shiny as his own shorts. He enjoyed this sight, even blurry as it was, despite the fact he would certainly endure some torment from the lad.
Rémi didn’t say a thing and meekly nodded, entering the house, feeling the gaze of his cousins on his back.
“Have a great time, Aurel and Tom! I’m sure there’s a boy who’s impatient to have you come and free him,” Marc told the leaving pair and they all chuckled. Rémi wondered which of his friends was kept bound and gagged somewhere and would get tormented by his impish cousins.
His host shut the door and turned to face the newcomer, who was amazed his cousins didn’t come in to help out with the punishment.
“Tell me what you did wrong.”
Had he not seen Rémi’s tape-covered lips? He mumbled an explanation anyway, but the block filling his mouth prevented any coherent sound.
“Gagged again, aren’t you? You’re under the silence rule because you’ve been a naughty boy?” Marc asked, running the tip of his index finger across the small, smooth piece of tape.
Rémi saw a way out. He nodded in answer to Marc’s first question.
“You’ve been naughty? Your cousins said you were. We’ll have to do something about it, then. It seems they’ve taken care of your hands. You used your hands for your misdeeds?”
Rémi didn’t reply. It was useless, and the younger lads loved taunting their prisoners when they couldn’t reply.
“Good chap. Keep still, I’ve got something for you. Since you’re on the silence rule, let’s make sure you obey. We’ll check the plug is in later on with Théo. Plus I’m sure Aurel wouldn’t have let you enter without it.”
Marc stepped back in front of his charge. He held a roll of wide, very sticky surgical bandage; it was just one notch below the strapping tape when it came to stickiness. He tore a big rectangle that he stuck over Rémi’s already sealed lips.
“The tape your cousins used isn’t enough to keep your mouth shut. This should do.”
Marc’s little fingers caressed his cheeks, making sure the white plastering stuck.
“Now, you’re cute as you are, but we’d like you to be able to see us. We’re also good-looking!”
Marc put a pair of eyeglasses on Rémi. With his eyesight thus restored, he could identify the case Marc held. It was his extra pair, which probably Aurélien or Thomas had gotten their hands on somehow.
“I’m sure you’re impatient to say hi to Théo, let’s move on.”
Marc laid a hand on his charge’s shoulder and pushed him down the hall. They entered the big living room on the left. Théo was sitting on the couch reading a comic book. He put it down.
“He looks great, Marc, nice job! Is he clean?”
“I haven’t inspected him down there yet. You see, Aurélien and Thomas had to walk him over; he wasn’t alone as planned. They said he’s misbehaved, but I didn’t think about asking them what he did. It’s fifty strokes on his ass, that’s what I understood.”
“Totally something we can handle. We’ll have a look, then. Let’s start with him greeting us, me first; come here, lad and kneel in front of your master!”
Rémi stepped closer to the couch, steered by Marc’s hand. The black-haired boy pushed down; Rémi understood the cue and kneeled down. Théo opened his thighs and moved to the edge of the seat. He was wearing a pair of navy-blue shorts. They looked stained, and the smell that came to Rémi’s nostrils informed him that boy juice had been spilled.
“You like what you see?” Théo asked.
“His nose is twitching, I think he likes what he smells,” his friend laughed.
“I hope he does. He’s going to train his nose this weekend. Now he should smell you, so he may spot the difference.”
Marc stood next to the pair. The kneeling boy had to turn to his side before he could press his face against Marc’s tracksuit pants.
“Get the pants off, Marc, they’re clean and they’re going to block the smell from your shorts.”
Marc followed the advice, sliding his pants with his thumbs and unveiling the dark green shorts underneath. The whiff of cummy dick was unmistakable. Rémi recognized it right away. He could see how having an older boy at their feet got his captors aroused. The bulging nylon pouches were unambiguous.
“Too bad he’s gagged,” Marc said to his accomplice. “I wouldn’t mind a blow job.”
“I wouldn’t mind either. It’s only some tape, we could always remove it.”
Marc sat next to his friend; they leaned towards Rémi and each picked a corner of the wide tape rectangle covering his lower face.
“Shhhrk!”
“Mmm!”
The ripping sound brought in its trail a repressed grunt. Rémi tried his best, but the sudden removal of tape hurt. Théo held the wide piece of bandage; the thin strip underneath had stuck to the Elastoplast.
“They’d sealed his lips, then. Your cousins are cautious, it’s nice.”
“Aurel and Tom know they need to watch him closely.”
Théo reached for Rémi’s lips. The kneeling boy had developed appropriate reflexes. He parted his jaws wide, letting the younger boy reach for the now slippery mass filling his mouth.
“No talking, of course, and make Marc happy first.”
Rémi waited for the boy to remove his polyamide underwear.
“Go ahead, boy, suck his shorts! And lick all the white stuff when he comes, we don’t tolerate any mess.”
Rémi got busy. He felt the underwear with his lips, locating everything before he started using his tongue. Marc squirmed, enjoying the caresses. What a nice cocksucker they’d found!
The mouth opened and engulfed the prick’s end, which was now seriously tenting the pair of underwear. Rémi felt Marc, who had a hand on his hair, getting agitated. The boy was grinding his hips sitting on the couch, under Théo’s amused look.
The sex assistant kept on sucking once he’d brought his customer to orgasm. Then he had to suck and swallow the boy juice. He felt Marc’s hand letting go of his head, only to be replaced by Théo’s fingers grabbing his hair.
“You must be hungry for more so I’m going to be nice,” he stated, “I’ll let you suck me so you get enough.”
Théo and Rémi adjusted their position for proper cock sucking; the captive resumed his duties with the dark blue shorts. The boy relished this aspect of the games he’d played with Philippe and his brothers. He wouldn’t have confessed to other classmates but he’d found a safe haven for his weird oral fantasies.
He enjoyed the feel of the dick rolling under the saliva-soaked fabric, the smell and the taste of the whole thing. The recipient of his oral favours liked it too; he was twitching. Rémi’s eager lips kept on pumping on the knob it had located. Summoning the force within Théo, the mouth acted as a hungry suction cup attempting to draw liquid out of its prey.
Théo eventually came, with sperm gushing out of its shaking member. It seeped through the fabric and Rémi caught the intoxicating nectar, willing to swallow every drop.
Théo recovered slowly. His friend crouched next to Rémi, whom he handgagged. He used both hands, one over the older boy’s mouth and one over the back of his head, keeping Rémi’s head in a tight vice that prevented not only sounds but moves also.
“He’s really good, Théo, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s got magic lips!”
“And a magic tongue!”
“Now I feel a bit more relaxed, it is time for a closer examination of his hygiene.”
TBC
There will be new Simon and Danny chapters in the weeks to come, do not fear.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 2 – Reaching Destination
Rémi started his final minutes of walking with his backpack on his shoulders; he could not only feel the weight of the content he’d packed inside, he also felt the weight of his masters’ eyes following him. His vision was blurry without his glasses; the walk was short and there was still nobody around.
The supervised pupil had trouble thinking about anything but the feelings of joy and release down in his undies. Every step had the shorts brush over the Speedos, an intoxicating feeling.
He walked the two-hundred metres to the next intersection where he was to turn left. At the corner, there was another small park, mirroring the one he came from. He suddenly felt the need to handle his shorts-swelling issue. He was early; if he was quick no one would notice, he thought.
Rémi quickly checked that he was the only visitor of this small chunk of nature. His desire ran wild. He moved behind some foliage, got his cock out from its wrapping and his fingers started pumping on the inflated member. As though it had a life of its own, his hand found its favourite location over his rod for a perfect grip; it felt that way to Rémi. After such a long time of having his member deprived of caresses by the cage, the boy shivered with excitement.
Rémi’s fancies ran wild below his skull. Being fondled by an older perv, then having his cousins check on him, plus the prospect of being at Marc and Théo’s mercy again.
His hand brought the wanted release. His turgid cock spat out its seed rather soon. Rémi kept from screaming, feeling he shouldn’t have the piece of tape over his lips move.
Then it struck him he had no paper towel or hankie. He squeezed his softer penis to get all the leaky juice out. He then spotted a square of lawn. He knelt on it, touching it before to be sure it was soft and devoid of glass or dog shit as such a place could be.
With his dong still outside his Speedos, he ripped a handful of smooth grass and rubbed his penis with it. He wiped most of the cum, threw the grass away, and resumed with fresh leaves. Once he felt all the liquid was gone, he rubbed his glans again. It felt dry.
Rémi was carefully putting his disgorged member back inside his swimwear and shorts, ready to savour a minute or two of post-orgasm, when he heard trees rustling behind him. He was decent to face strangers; yet the chuckles he heard triggered another rush of adrenalin. He turned to face them.
“Darn, Rémi,” Aurélien sniggered. “It seems we can’t leave you on your own two minutes without you disobeying!”
“Yeah, we gave your willy some freedom. Looks like you abused our kindness,” Thomas added, “hands behind your back.”
Rémi felt very hot from the embarrassment of falling victim to yet another prank of his dreadful cousins. A deer caught in the headlights, he now had to submit. He offered his wrists crossed, which his younger cousin trapped with a small padlock closed over the cuffs’ D-rings.
“We’ll take you to Théo’s. Of course, this adds to your penalty points tally. Some spanking might teach you to obey,” Aurélien lectured. “Follow me and don’t try anything funny.”
He walked the path out of the park and took a quick look to make sure there wasn’t any unwanted passer-by in sight. The street was empty.
“Go first,” Aurélien ordered, grabbing Rémi’s shoulder and pushing him forward. Rémi could feel his cousins on his heels. They were actually concealing his manacled wrists for anyone coming from behind and were ready to free them if someone showed up from the front. The trio walked the thankfully short distance that still separated them from their destination without meeting anyone.
The large house’s entrance was at the top of a flight of stairs, which they climbed fast. Aurélien turned to Rémi.
“Ring the bell, you’re the visitor.”
Having no hands was no excuse when in his captors’ control, so Rémi approached the door and leaned into the doorbell button with his nose. It was dark and contrasted with the doorframe, which helped to aim given his blurry vision.
Théo and Marc were eagerly waiting for their guest. They loved disciplining and dominating other boys; they’d cheered when Hervé had suggested they have Rémi over. The duo was creative when it came to design games involving ropes and thick gags, and they had spent days planning that evening’s festivities.
Théo and Marc were both close to their fourteenth birthdays. Though they had cherubic faces, they had fully functioning genitals and enjoyed their new hobby. Just on that day, Théo had wanked three times, all before noon. His underwear kept traces of its wearer’s self-pleasuring activities. He’d saved himself for Rémi’s arrival, and talking about their charge with Marc hadn’t soothed his lustful mind.
They both jumped when the doorbell rang. With their eyes on the clock, they’d counted down the seconds prior to Rémi’s arrival and smiled at their guest’s punctuality. It was so much fun being friends with Hervé and bossing older boys around.
Marc dashed into the entry hall while Théo remained sitting royally on the couch. The black-haired boy thrust the door wide open, ready to welcome their guest. He looked surprised to see Aurélien and Thomas.
“Hey guys! I thought Rémi was coming on his own. Isn’t he supposed to be a good behaved boy by now?” he asked. He cast a hungry smile towards his guest.
“He was naughty,” Thomas answered. “A good spanking is in order.”
They didn’t even bother giving details on their pupil’s misbehaviour. Aurélien just wanted to make sure the number of strokes had to be doubled.
“He’s in good hands, so we’ll leave you to handle the twerp,” Aurélien said. “We can’t stay.”
“You’ve got somewhere else to be indeed,” Marc winked, “we’ll take it from here.” He turned to the third guest; the quiet, immobile young man hadn’t spoken a word.
“Good evening!” Marc greeted Rémi. “Come in, we’ve been waiting for you,” he said, stepping aside.
Marc was a skinny, black-haired boy and Rémi found him cute; he wore tracksuit pants, as soft and shiny as his own shorts. He enjoyed this sight, even blurry as it was, despite the fact he would certainly endure some torment from the lad.
Rémi didn’t say a thing and meekly nodded, entering the house, feeling the gaze of his cousins on his back.
“Have a great time, Aurel and Tom! I’m sure there’s a boy who’s impatient to have you come and free him,” Marc told the leaving pair and they all chuckled. Rémi wondered which of his friends was kept bound and gagged somewhere and would get tormented by his impish cousins.
His host shut the door and turned to face the newcomer, who was amazed his cousins didn’t come in to help out with the punishment.
“Tell me what you did wrong.”
Had he not seen Rémi’s tape-covered lips? He mumbled an explanation anyway, but the block filling his mouth prevented any coherent sound.
“Gagged again, aren’t you? You’re under the silence rule because you’ve been a naughty boy?” Marc asked, running the tip of his index finger across the small, smooth piece of tape.
Rémi saw a way out. He nodded in answer to Marc’s first question.
“You’ve been naughty? Your cousins said you were. We’ll have to do something about it, then. It seems they’ve taken care of your hands. You used your hands for your misdeeds?”
Rémi didn’t reply. It was useless, and the younger lads loved taunting their prisoners when they couldn’t reply.
“Good chap. Keep still, I’ve got something for you. Since you’re on the silence rule, let’s make sure you obey. We’ll check the plug is in later on with Théo. Plus I’m sure Aurel wouldn’t have let you enter without it.”
Marc stepped back in front of his charge. He held a roll of wide, very sticky surgical bandage; it was just one notch below the strapping tape when it came to stickiness. He tore a big rectangle that he stuck over Rémi’s already sealed lips.
“The tape your cousins used isn’t enough to keep your mouth shut. This should do.”
Marc’s little fingers caressed his cheeks, making sure the white plastering stuck.
“Now, you’re cute as you are, but we’d like you to be able to see us. We’re also good-looking!”
Marc put a pair of eyeglasses on Rémi. With his eyesight thus restored, he could identify the case Marc held. It was his extra pair, which probably Aurélien or Thomas had gotten their hands on somehow.
“I’m sure you’re impatient to say hi to Théo, let’s move on.”
Marc laid a hand on his charge’s shoulder and pushed him down the hall. They entered the big living room on the left. Théo was sitting on the couch reading a comic book. He put it down.
“He looks great, Marc, nice job! Is he clean?”
“I haven’t inspected him down there yet. You see, Aurélien and Thomas had to walk him over; he wasn’t alone as planned. They said he’s misbehaved, but I didn’t think about asking them what he did. It’s fifty strokes on his ass, that’s what I understood.”
“Totally something we can handle. We’ll have a look, then. Let’s start with him greeting us, me first; come here, lad and kneel in front of your master!”
Rémi stepped closer to the couch, steered by Marc’s hand. The black-haired boy pushed down; Rémi understood the cue and kneeled down. Théo opened his thighs and moved to the edge of the seat. He was wearing a pair of navy-blue shorts. They looked stained, and the smell that came to Rémi’s nostrils informed him that boy juice had been spilled.
“You like what you see?” Théo asked.
“His nose is twitching, I think he likes what he smells,” his friend laughed.
“I hope he does. He’s going to train his nose this weekend. Now he should smell you, so he may spot the difference.”
Marc stood next to the pair. The kneeling boy had to turn to his side before he could press his face against Marc’s tracksuit pants.
“Get the pants off, Marc, they’re clean and they’re going to block the smell from your shorts.”
Marc followed the advice, sliding his pants with his thumbs and unveiling the dark green shorts underneath. The whiff of cummy dick was unmistakable. Rémi recognized it right away. He could see how having an older boy at their feet got his captors aroused. The bulging nylon pouches were unambiguous.
“Too bad he’s gagged,” Marc said to his accomplice. “I wouldn’t mind a blow job.”
“I wouldn’t mind either. It’s only some tape, we could always remove it.”
Marc sat next to his friend; they leaned towards Rémi and each picked a corner of the wide tape rectangle covering his lower face.
“Shhhrk!”
“Mmm!”
The ripping sound brought in its trail a repressed grunt. Rémi tried his best, but the sudden removal of tape hurt. Théo held the wide piece of bandage; the thin strip underneath had stuck to the Elastoplast.
“They’d sealed his lips, then. Your cousins are cautious, it’s nice.”
“Aurel and Tom know they need to watch him closely.”
Théo reached for Rémi’s lips. The kneeling boy had developed appropriate reflexes. He parted his jaws wide, letting the younger boy reach for the now slippery mass filling his mouth.
“No talking, of course, and make Marc happy first.”
Rémi waited for the boy to remove his polyamide underwear.
“Go ahead, boy, suck his shorts! And lick all the white stuff when he comes, we don’t tolerate any mess.”
Rémi got busy. He felt the underwear with his lips, locating everything before he started using his tongue. Marc squirmed, enjoying the caresses. What a nice cocksucker they’d found!
The mouth opened and engulfed the prick’s end, which was now seriously tenting the pair of underwear. Rémi felt Marc, who had a hand on his hair, getting agitated. The boy was grinding his hips sitting on the couch, under Théo’s amused look.
The sex assistant kept on sucking once he’d brought his customer to orgasm. Then he had to suck and swallow the boy juice. He felt Marc’s hand letting go of his head, only to be replaced by Théo’s fingers grabbing his hair.
“You must be hungry for more so I’m going to be nice,” he stated, “I’ll let you suck me so you get enough.”
Théo and Rémi adjusted their position for proper cock sucking; the captive resumed his duties with the dark blue shorts. The boy relished this aspect of the games he’d played with Philippe and his brothers. He wouldn’t have confessed to other classmates but he’d found a safe haven for his weird oral fantasies.
He enjoyed the feel of the dick rolling under the saliva-soaked fabric, the smell and the taste of the whole thing. The recipient of his oral favours liked it too; he was twitching. Rémi’s eager lips kept on pumping on the knob it had located. Summoning the force within Théo, the mouth acted as a hungry suction cup attempting to draw liquid out of its prey.
Théo eventually came, with sperm gushing out of its shaking member. It seeped through the fabric and Rémi caught the intoxicating nectar, willing to swallow every drop.
Théo recovered slowly. His friend crouched next to Rémi, whom he handgagged. He used both hands, one over the older boy’s mouth and one over the back of his head, keeping Rémi’s head in a tight vice that prevented not only sounds but moves also.
“He’s really good, Théo, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s got magic lips!”
“And a magic tongue!”
“Now I feel a bit more relaxed, it is time for a closer examination of his hygiene.”
TBC
Last edited by Bondwriter 4 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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One of the elements that makes these so much fun to read, is the unfeigned, happy enthusiasm of the young masters. It's almost infectious. It would take a heart of stone to deny these kids their fun.
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Glad you enjoy their shenanigans, Snowy. I sure do. I got an edited chapter from Nicholas, so, come back this weekend for more bondage and discipline fun for young Rémi!
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- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
I will update this story only this week. I hope you enjoy it; it's meant to please.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 3 – Inspection and Retribution
The prospect of tormenting their pupil further energized the boys. Marc kept holding Rémi’s head and covering his mouth; he indicated that Rémi should stand. The captive did.
This time, Marc’s eyes were at Rémi’s crotch level. He leaned forward to see better. His nose helped him to identify the naughty boy’s misdeeds.
“It smells like cum, Marc.”
“My, oh, my! So this is what he got in trouble for!”
Théo pulled the shorts and Speedos down, allowing Rémi’s dong to sprout and rise.
“So Aurel removed his cage and our little pupil used the favour to wank. Plus, he wiped his dick with grass. He didn’t do too good a job! Check out yourself.”
Théo rose to his feet and traded places with his friend. Rémi used the second his mouth was free to beg for mercy.
“Please, I’ll be g.. rmmmmrmmmphggrmmmlllbbllmmm!”
“He can’t follow the silence rule either,” Marc commented as he crouched to perform the inspection.
“His rod is swollen, he can’t help it!” the black-haired boy joked.
“Get stuff to gag him, Marc, then we can have some other trial for his dick!”
Marc went to the coffee table where he picked the roll of Elastoplast. He didn’t take the plastic shape, though.
“We should stuff his mouth with our Speedos. They need cleaning up.”
Not waiting for Théo’s opinion, Marc removed his Speedos. He put his tracksuit pants back on, having no interest in walking around in the buff. He rolled his swimwear into a ball.
Théo didn’t need instructions. He removed his hand when the mass of soggy, smelly Speedos approached Rémi’s lips. They parted open to accept the gift: the captive was dismayed at having gotten caught. He didn’t feel like earning further penalty points.
Once done, Marc laid his hands around Rémi’s head to prevent him from spitting the underwear crammed in his mouth and to keep him perfectly still by grabbing his hair at the back of his head.
“That’s a good start, but it won’t be enough to silence him when we whip him.”
Théo didn’t need to be told twice. He removed his Speedos, turning around to remain unseen before he pulled the blue shorts back on.
Holding his dirty underwear with the tip of his thumb and index finger, he brought it towards Rémi’s face. They repeated the operation, with Marc removing his hand and Rémi taking in the underwear. Théo pushed and prodded to make sure it ended up lodged inexorably within the prisoner’s oral cavity.
Marc renewed his handgag as Théo tore a long strip from the roll of white tape. Holding the sticky ends in each hand, he approached his victim. Marc removed his hand from Rémi’s lips and slid it under his chin, pressing the jaws together.
Rémi pursed his lips obediently; the sticky stuff made contact with his skin, gluing his mouth first. The arm length of tape encircled his head, overlapping over his neck. The tight wrap not only kept his mouth shut, it also made moving his head more difficult.
“This’ll do. Don’t you think it’s time for the first try-out? Then we can give him the spanking he needs,” Théo told his friend, removing Rémi’s glasses.
Marc fetched something that was on an armchair, which Rémi couldn’t make out. The little devil kept the novel accessory hidden behind his back. He stepped behind their prisoner, who then saw something entering his field of vision. Rémi felt a hood of some sort coming down.
He’d worn similar things before, but this was a new experience. It featured a large opening for his eyes and nose but wrapped the rest of his head as well as his throat. Marc busied himself tightening the laces. He pulled on them, leaving little space between the two rows of grommets. Little by little, Rémi felt the grip of the implement take over and confirm he was deprived of the right to speak.
“This is nice gear. It shines nicely.”
The thin, supple material clung to his skin and further sealed his lips. It was a familiar feeling, considering he’d spent much time with his little abductors over the preceding year.
Théo stood in front of the pair. He put Rémi’s glasses back on, sticking their arms to the new accessory with small strips of surgical tape. He then reached for Rémi’s crotch.
“It feels nice, doesn’t it? He’s growing really hard, Marc. Should we do something about it?”
“We’ll see. Maybe he can manage some control. There’s a punishment on the menu first, though. Let’s bind his legs so he doesn’t run away, then we’ll tell him what we’ve got in store for the weekend.”
Théo went to pick some rope from the supplies lying on the armchair. He handed Marc a piece, and the boys sat on the carpet on each side of Rémi. Marc bound his ankles and Théo handled his knees, both above and below. Théo kept an eye on the bulging and twitching content of the boy’s shorts. He really enjoyed playing with the little masochists Hervé had recruited.
The two pals had become skilled with knots, and Rémi’s legs were soon tied together tightly. They fell onto the couch once done, with their captive standing a couple feet in front of them.
“We’ve been told of some of your misdeeds, Rémi: the disappointing Physics grade, your being late to school on Monday, and you didn’t wear the required underwear on Wednesday. And now, the wanking. Even if your cousins hadn’t caught you, we’d have found out. But it means we’ll double the punishment.”
Théo and Marc were Aurélien and Thomas’ schoolmates; so was Hervé. They all went to the same school as Rémi and his friends, which meant surveillance from the fiendish lads. The four older teens had a much harder time hiding things from their tormentors than the previous year. It seemed they bumped into any of the six lads at every corner.
Grégory and Nicolas had already spent some time at Hervé’s to undergo tie-up punishment. Philippe had remained under his brothers’ tight control too. He was already under a strict discipline before, so it couldn’t get really worse for him. The four of them wore chastity cages, had to follow punctuality guidelines, and were ordered to wear clothes the younger boys chose for them.
What they had in store this time became quickly clear to Rémi. Théo picked a couple of flyswatters from under a pillow couch as the captive pleaded with his wide-open eyes.
“We’re not going to show you any mercy, though we won’t make your punishment any worse.”
He followed Marc, leaping off the couch. The black-haired boy got another item made out of the same material as the hood. This one was a harness that worked like a bra, with a wide strap surrounding his chest and running just under his armpits; two shoulder straps prevented it from sliding down. There were large D-rings that would sit between his nipples in the front and between his shoulder blades in the back.
Rémi let Théo remove one handcuff momentarily; his friend grabbed the freed wrist and pulled it up. His wrists crossed behind him over the ring, where they were locked to. It wasn’t the full reverse prayer position the fiends usually performed; it strained him a bit nonetheless, his chest puffing up in front and his bottom sticking out.
The latter was the real object of the boys’ attention, the part of Rémi’s anatomy that had to be made accessible to both eyes and whipping implements. Rémi could feel them behind him. He heard a swishing sound, which ended with a smacking sound and a sting. Rémi took it like a man.
Théo and Marc framed him from behind. Their restrained pupil couldn’t avoid the whacking. He did all he could to remain silent. His tormentors counted for him.
Thwack!
“Ten!”
Marc paused and stepped in Rémi’s field of vision. He noticed the teenage boy’s wet eyes.
“We’ve got a brave student, Théo. He’s kept still and quiet, even though we’re making him cry!”
“Rmmmrrbbllmm?”
“Ha! Ha! He doesn’t like you calling him a wimp!”
“I didn’t!”
“He’s a precious little thing. We’re not done, Rémi, forty more strokes to go. You’re allowed to make noise, we’re kind like this.”
The whipping resumed, with Marc and Théo aiming with more and more precision. The percussive sound of the rubber implements making contact with the shorted bottom increased, as did the grunts from the boy receiving the punishment.
Thwack!
“Fifty!”
“MMMMrhMMM!”
Rémi’s bum stung and felt very hot.
He felt hands grabbing him under his armpits and dragging him along the floor.
“After a spanking, naughty boys get to think over their misdeeds,” Théo declared emphatically as they stood their prey in the corner.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes to reflect,” Marc added, borrowing his schoolteachers’ vocabulary and getting into the role enthusiastically.
The punished pupil kept very still for the next quarter of an hour. He wished he could rub his bum for relief. He got his mind focused on his keepers’ conversation, which was the best way he knew to soothe his inflamed buttocks. Nevertheless, the boys’ talk got the front of his shorts to inflate and twitch.
They discussed possible tie-ups, which always got the goggled boy to sprout a boner. Their stories about what his friend Philippe had to be undergoing at the hands of his brothers aroused Rémi. Thinking of Cédric and Hervé brought mixed feelings. They were cute, if not pretty; yet Hervé could be a nasty little master. His captors told of the pole-tie Grégory and Nicolas would have to endure once they’d join the siblings, which didn’t help the penitent to grow any softer.
When eventually Théo announced his corner time was up, Rémi wondered whether his arousal would show over his shorts; leaking pre-cum wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the healthy youth. He didn’t dare look down.
Théo was behind, his chin coming to rest on Rémi’s shoulder. He reached towards his student’s crotch, the hand coming from behind to brush lightly against the turgid member; Rémi was relieved when he heard Théo voice his findings.
“He’s stiff, but he isn’t wet.”
“Good, I’m a bit tired, I don’t feel like spanking him right away,” Marc replied. “Let’s play doll instead. A well-dressed lad is nicer to spank anyway.”
Marc spun Rémi around, unmoved by his charge’s non-verbal communication. Rémi expressed his wonder by batting his eyelashes furiously, which was totally ignored. Questions had to be asked.
“You like playing doll, don’t you? Or would you rather play pet?”
The interrogated captive nodded with every suggestion.
“Or play maid? Or be our big baby?” Théo asked, getting similar approval each time. Rémi wasn’t even lying; he loved being under the lads’ control. Sometimes it was a bit tough, but deep down he loved it. His captors had made Rémi and his friends confess to their leanings before.
“Our lads sure make it worth finding ideas to enslave them! For now, he’s going to play the rabbit and hop back to where he stood before.”
He snapped his fingers, triggering his charge to get moving despite the restraints holding him. His captors stayed close, and Théo smacked his bum to motivate Rémi into moving faster. This worked even better on a sore behind. Once he reached the spot in front of the sofa, Théo and Marc leaped into a sitting position.
“Spin around, lad, we like watching you from all sides when we lecture you.”
Rémi got to squirming to perform the required figure.
He had to bear more gazes and taunts for the next ten minutes. Early on, Marc decided it would be interesting to see his bare midsection and he lowered the briefs and shorts as much as the ropes binding the legs allowed.
“He’s got rosy butt cheeks!”
“We could get them to a darker colour next time. Look at his dong! All hard and it looks like the tip is wet.”
“Leaking pre-cum again, naughty boy?” Marc taunted their model.
“He needs to get his mind busy over chores. Watching us will only get him to keep his boner up,” Théo assessed. “Let’s dress him up as our maid.”
“You mean our butler?” Marc said, winking.
TBC
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 3 – Inspection and Retribution
The prospect of tormenting their pupil further energized the boys. Marc kept holding Rémi’s head and covering his mouth; he indicated that Rémi should stand. The captive did.
This time, Marc’s eyes were at Rémi’s crotch level. He leaned forward to see better. His nose helped him to identify the naughty boy’s misdeeds.
“It smells like cum, Marc.”
“My, oh, my! So this is what he got in trouble for!”
Théo pulled the shorts and Speedos down, allowing Rémi’s dong to sprout and rise.
“So Aurel removed his cage and our little pupil used the favour to wank. Plus, he wiped his dick with grass. He didn’t do too good a job! Check out yourself.”
Théo rose to his feet and traded places with his friend. Rémi used the second his mouth was free to beg for mercy.
“Please, I’ll be g.. rmmmmrmmmphggrmmmlllbbllmmm!”
“He can’t follow the silence rule either,” Marc commented as he crouched to perform the inspection.
“His rod is swollen, he can’t help it!” the black-haired boy joked.
“Get stuff to gag him, Marc, then we can have some other trial for his dick!”
Marc went to the coffee table where he picked the roll of Elastoplast. He didn’t take the plastic shape, though.
“We should stuff his mouth with our Speedos. They need cleaning up.”
Not waiting for Théo’s opinion, Marc removed his Speedos. He put his tracksuit pants back on, having no interest in walking around in the buff. He rolled his swimwear into a ball.
Théo didn’t need instructions. He removed his hand when the mass of soggy, smelly Speedos approached Rémi’s lips. They parted open to accept the gift: the captive was dismayed at having gotten caught. He didn’t feel like earning further penalty points.
Once done, Marc laid his hands around Rémi’s head to prevent him from spitting the underwear crammed in his mouth and to keep him perfectly still by grabbing his hair at the back of his head.
“That’s a good start, but it won’t be enough to silence him when we whip him.”
Théo didn’t need to be told twice. He removed his Speedos, turning around to remain unseen before he pulled the blue shorts back on.
Holding his dirty underwear with the tip of his thumb and index finger, he brought it towards Rémi’s face. They repeated the operation, with Marc removing his hand and Rémi taking in the underwear. Théo pushed and prodded to make sure it ended up lodged inexorably within the prisoner’s oral cavity.
Marc renewed his handgag as Théo tore a long strip from the roll of white tape. Holding the sticky ends in each hand, he approached his victim. Marc removed his hand from Rémi’s lips and slid it under his chin, pressing the jaws together.
Rémi pursed his lips obediently; the sticky stuff made contact with his skin, gluing his mouth first. The arm length of tape encircled his head, overlapping over his neck. The tight wrap not only kept his mouth shut, it also made moving his head more difficult.
“This’ll do. Don’t you think it’s time for the first try-out? Then we can give him the spanking he needs,” Théo told his friend, removing Rémi’s glasses.
Marc fetched something that was on an armchair, which Rémi couldn’t make out. The little devil kept the novel accessory hidden behind his back. He stepped behind their prisoner, who then saw something entering his field of vision. Rémi felt a hood of some sort coming down.
He’d worn similar things before, but this was a new experience. It featured a large opening for his eyes and nose but wrapped the rest of his head as well as his throat. Marc busied himself tightening the laces. He pulled on them, leaving little space between the two rows of grommets. Little by little, Rémi felt the grip of the implement take over and confirm he was deprived of the right to speak.
“This is nice gear. It shines nicely.”
The thin, supple material clung to his skin and further sealed his lips. It was a familiar feeling, considering he’d spent much time with his little abductors over the preceding year.
Théo stood in front of the pair. He put Rémi’s glasses back on, sticking their arms to the new accessory with small strips of surgical tape. He then reached for Rémi’s crotch.
“It feels nice, doesn’t it? He’s growing really hard, Marc. Should we do something about it?”
“We’ll see. Maybe he can manage some control. There’s a punishment on the menu first, though. Let’s bind his legs so he doesn’t run away, then we’ll tell him what we’ve got in store for the weekend.”
Théo went to pick some rope from the supplies lying on the armchair. He handed Marc a piece, and the boys sat on the carpet on each side of Rémi. Marc bound his ankles and Théo handled his knees, both above and below. Théo kept an eye on the bulging and twitching content of the boy’s shorts. He really enjoyed playing with the little masochists Hervé had recruited.
The two pals had become skilled with knots, and Rémi’s legs were soon tied together tightly. They fell onto the couch once done, with their captive standing a couple feet in front of them.
“We’ve been told of some of your misdeeds, Rémi: the disappointing Physics grade, your being late to school on Monday, and you didn’t wear the required underwear on Wednesday. And now, the wanking. Even if your cousins hadn’t caught you, we’d have found out. But it means we’ll double the punishment.”
Théo and Marc were Aurélien and Thomas’ schoolmates; so was Hervé. They all went to the same school as Rémi and his friends, which meant surveillance from the fiendish lads. The four older teens had a much harder time hiding things from their tormentors than the previous year. It seemed they bumped into any of the six lads at every corner.
Grégory and Nicolas had already spent some time at Hervé’s to undergo tie-up punishment. Philippe had remained under his brothers’ tight control too. He was already under a strict discipline before, so it couldn’t get really worse for him. The four of them wore chastity cages, had to follow punctuality guidelines, and were ordered to wear clothes the younger boys chose for them.
What they had in store this time became quickly clear to Rémi. Théo picked a couple of flyswatters from under a pillow couch as the captive pleaded with his wide-open eyes.
“We’re not going to show you any mercy, though we won’t make your punishment any worse.”
He followed Marc, leaping off the couch. The black-haired boy got another item made out of the same material as the hood. This one was a harness that worked like a bra, with a wide strap surrounding his chest and running just under his armpits; two shoulder straps prevented it from sliding down. There were large D-rings that would sit between his nipples in the front and between his shoulder blades in the back.
Rémi let Théo remove one handcuff momentarily; his friend grabbed the freed wrist and pulled it up. His wrists crossed behind him over the ring, where they were locked to. It wasn’t the full reverse prayer position the fiends usually performed; it strained him a bit nonetheless, his chest puffing up in front and his bottom sticking out.
The latter was the real object of the boys’ attention, the part of Rémi’s anatomy that had to be made accessible to both eyes and whipping implements. Rémi could feel them behind him. He heard a swishing sound, which ended with a smacking sound and a sting. Rémi took it like a man.
Théo and Marc framed him from behind. Their restrained pupil couldn’t avoid the whacking. He did all he could to remain silent. His tormentors counted for him.
Thwack!
“Ten!”
Marc paused and stepped in Rémi’s field of vision. He noticed the teenage boy’s wet eyes.
“We’ve got a brave student, Théo. He’s kept still and quiet, even though we’re making him cry!”
“Rmmmrrbbllmm?”
“Ha! Ha! He doesn’t like you calling him a wimp!”
“I didn’t!”
“He’s a precious little thing. We’re not done, Rémi, forty more strokes to go. You’re allowed to make noise, we’re kind like this.”
The whipping resumed, with Marc and Théo aiming with more and more precision. The percussive sound of the rubber implements making contact with the shorted bottom increased, as did the grunts from the boy receiving the punishment.
Thwack!
“Fifty!”
“MMMMrhMMM!”
Rémi’s bum stung and felt very hot.
He felt hands grabbing him under his armpits and dragging him along the floor.
“After a spanking, naughty boys get to think over their misdeeds,” Théo declared emphatically as they stood their prey in the corner.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes to reflect,” Marc added, borrowing his schoolteachers’ vocabulary and getting into the role enthusiastically.
The punished pupil kept very still for the next quarter of an hour. He wished he could rub his bum for relief. He got his mind focused on his keepers’ conversation, which was the best way he knew to soothe his inflamed buttocks. Nevertheless, the boys’ talk got the front of his shorts to inflate and twitch.
They discussed possible tie-ups, which always got the goggled boy to sprout a boner. Their stories about what his friend Philippe had to be undergoing at the hands of his brothers aroused Rémi. Thinking of Cédric and Hervé brought mixed feelings. They were cute, if not pretty; yet Hervé could be a nasty little master. His captors told of the pole-tie Grégory and Nicolas would have to endure once they’d join the siblings, which didn’t help the penitent to grow any softer.
When eventually Théo announced his corner time was up, Rémi wondered whether his arousal would show over his shorts; leaking pre-cum wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the healthy youth. He didn’t dare look down.
Théo was behind, his chin coming to rest on Rémi’s shoulder. He reached towards his student’s crotch, the hand coming from behind to brush lightly against the turgid member; Rémi was relieved when he heard Théo voice his findings.
“He’s stiff, but he isn’t wet.”
“Good, I’m a bit tired, I don’t feel like spanking him right away,” Marc replied. “Let’s play doll instead. A well-dressed lad is nicer to spank anyway.”
Marc spun Rémi around, unmoved by his charge’s non-verbal communication. Rémi expressed his wonder by batting his eyelashes furiously, which was totally ignored. Questions had to be asked.
“You like playing doll, don’t you? Or would you rather play pet?”
The interrogated captive nodded with every suggestion.
“Or play maid? Or be our big baby?” Théo asked, getting similar approval each time. Rémi wasn’t even lying; he loved being under the lads’ control. Sometimes it was a bit tough, but deep down he loved it. His captors had made Rémi and his friends confess to their leanings before.
“Our lads sure make it worth finding ideas to enslave them! For now, he’s going to play the rabbit and hop back to where he stood before.”
He snapped his fingers, triggering his charge to get moving despite the restraints holding him. His captors stayed close, and Théo smacked his bum to motivate Rémi into moving faster. This worked even better on a sore behind. Once he reached the spot in front of the sofa, Théo and Marc leaped into a sitting position.
“Spin around, lad, we like watching you from all sides when we lecture you.”
Rémi got to squirming to perform the required figure.
He had to bear more gazes and taunts for the next ten minutes. Early on, Marc decided it would be interesting to see his bare midsection and he lowered the briefs and shorts as much as the ropes binding the legs allowed.
“He’s got rosy butt cheeks!”
“We could get them to a darker colour next time. Look at his dong! All hard and it looks like the tip is wet.”
“Leaking pre-cum again, naughty boy?” Marc taunted their model.
“He needs to get his mind busy over chores. Watching us will only get him to keep his boner up,” Théo assessed. “Let’s dress him up as our maid.”
“You mean our butler?” Marc said, winking.
TBC
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- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 15
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Remi is my new spirit animal. Kid's got the balance of a ballet dancer, to keep standing up, strictly bound like that while having his rear whacked.
As always, the enthusiasm of the junior masters is a joy to read about.
As always, the enthusiasm of the junior masters is a joy to read about.
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Thanks, Snowy. No posting this week, I'm starting to see the supply of stories dwindle, so I won't necessarily have new chapters for all sagas every weekend.
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Hey! Chapter 4 of 7 this week. Enjoy.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 4 – Put to the Test
The two lads undertook putting leatherette gloves and footwear on their charge. They started with his arms, which they freed long enough to put the tight, shiny accessories on. They went up above his elbows, closely wrapping his hands and arms and displaying fascinating reflections. Marc handcuffed them behind his back so they could move on to the mannequin’s legs with their ward adequately deprived of unwanted grabbing or punching.
They untied the ropes, putting them away cautiously; the captors’ tidiness would have made their parents proud.
They had Rémi sit on the couch to put the boots on. These were very high, coming halfway between his knee and crotch.
He had to stand so they could lace up the tight and clinging footwear. Marc and Théo sat next to each other, leaning forward to tighten the laces.
“His prick gets in the way,” Marc remarked after he had to move his head so the aroused and lively member didn’t brush up against his cheek. Before lacing the part of the boot covering Rémi’s thigh, he put the prisoner’s underwear and shorts back on.
“We’ll change them later on,” Théo said. “He’ll wear his fancy shorts for his deportment lesson if we get that far today. His PE shorts will do for cleaning up my room.”
“I like how they look anyway,” Marc replied, patting the perk buttocks with a much milder touch than his previous whacks.
Théo finished the job by adding a leash to the set-up, fixing it to the frontal D-ring on Rémi’s neck. The boy led his guests to his bedroom. Rémi looked around, discovering the house. He’d been taken to Marc’s grandfather’s the first time he’d met them, but this was a new playground. Marc knew the way; he followed his charge with the gait and demeanour of a landlord. They climbed the stairs, with Marc on the lookout for a fall to break.
The move to the first floor went fine; the two wards didn’t have to discipline their charge, who kept taking in the new settings. Rémi did so with his eyes, but his nose gave him useful information too.
He picked the smell of Théo’s room before they entered it. His nostrils flared when tickled by the pubescent lad scent. He’d grown accustomed to other boys’ bodily smells, and he knew they intended to quiz him on this.
The room was a mess: the bed wasn’t made and clothes and toys lay strewn across the floor. Marc unlocked the wrist cuffs, which he pulled in front. Théo had a short length of chain, which they used to keep his hands together a few inches apart.
“Here you go, you can use your hands now. You need to pick everything up and put it away. Pile the clothes on the desk, you’ll get them to the hamper when you’re done. Marc helped out by bringing some dirty laundry.”
“Yup, we had to get his room messy,” Marc said with a dreamy smile, “so there are socks and pairs of underwear I’ve worked hard on. Now, tidy it all up!”
This was enough for the servant, who started performing his chore. He acted as organized as he could, feeling the eyes of his handlers on him the whole time. He picked up socks, tee shirts, and underwear from the floor. Some he had seen before and knew whom they belonged to. He just lay them on the desk as initially instructed, but Théo used the task for his olfactory teaching.
“Nice to gather clothes, but you should smell them first to make sure you’re putting them on the right pile.”
Rémi complied, his invigilators close, watching his every move. He started with the socks. He didn’t need to bring them up to his nose to find out they indeed needed washing. Rémi felt some shame at finding the feet smell arousing.
He then tackled sniffing the three pairs of underwear, which his young master had worn quite a bit and soiled with pre-cum and cum. Marc was on the lookout; they knew their charge. He felt Rémi’s bulging shorts, seizing the wrapped member through the two layers of gliding fabric. The growing prick throbbed under the nimble fingers’ soft touch.
The boy didn’t say a word. It was unusual; they usually pointed out any mistakes or errors straight away. Marc decided to use non-verbal communication; it was tough to interpret for poor Rémi, and he couldn’t escape the boys’ grip.
The combination of the stained and smelly undies with Marc’s caresses took its predictable toll. Warm moisture filled the shorts. Marc, however, let go of the swollen rod just in time to prevent his victim from squirting actual jizz.
“Mmh.”
They heard a discreet complaint.
“You won’t get more, scoundrel. You know what will happen if you to spill your juice? Consider yourself lucky I’m being kind. Or do you really want us to warm up your arse a bit more?”
Rémi hung his head in shame.
“Get moving,” Théo ordered, pointing to the room and getting Rémi out of his immobility. “There’s still work to be done.”
Rémi kept on picking up the clothes and small objects, putting them where Théo told him. Once the floor was cleared, they had him make the bed. Théo fetched a hoover so Rémi could put a finishing touch to his cleaning up job.
It took half an hour to complete the chore. The room ended up tidy, with an uncluttered floor. There were neat piles of folded dirty laundry on the desk.
“You should be able to tell Théo’s clothes from mine just using your nose by now,” Marc said, “because it’s time for a test. Hopefully you pass. If you don’t, I’ll give you private lessons, but I would be miffed.”
Théo took care of getting Rémi’s hands behind his back, with the metallic sound of the cuffs locking and their cold grip informing the prisoner he was helpless again. He then led the contestant to the desk and blindfolded him with a black silk scarf.
“Let’s find out how good of a bloodhound you can be…”
“A bloodhound?” Marc asked. “He’s more of a poodle!”
“I was talking about his sense of smell. Even poodles have a good one.”
The captors in this gang never argued for long.
Théo tightened and knotted the scarf. He used thin strips of tape to fix the fabric to the forehead and cheekbones to make sure Rémi couldn’t see a thing underneath the blindfold.
“Ten items total, five from each of us… Ready for the first one?”
Rémi nodded. The scent of soiled underwear filled his nostrils, and he immediately recognized the owner. He shook his head when Marc asked if it was his, and nodded when his interrogator asked if it was Théo’s.
They repeated the routine for all ten items. Though Rémi could distinguish easily between the various pieces of underwear his captors had honoured with their boy cream, it was much more difficult to make a difference between their socks.
The two test proctors didn’t say anything else except the item number and questions. Rémi could hear some scribbling.
Once they’d recorded his answers about the ten pieces of worn clothing he’d been tasked to identify, they stepped to the other side of the room. The boys whispered and giggled. Rémi couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they didn’t let him in the dark for too long.
He first saw Marc when his blindfold was removed, which meant it was Théo’s hand resting on his shoulder. The ephebic youth whispered in his ear.
“Too bad you didn’t focus enough. It’s eight out of ten…”
“Which means you failed,” Marc added cheerfully.
“And we can’t have our young students fail, can we?”
“No, our pupils have to make up for failed tests… No deportment lesson or butler training, then.”
“… Just some extra time spent smelling our undies and socks! That way you’ll get better at it!”
Rémi moaned his unease, which of course didn’t mollify his strict teachers.
“I’m sure a little meditation time should do you good,” Théo smiled. “There’s an attic upstairs where you’ll enjoy some peace and quiet.”
Marc kneeled at Rémi’s side; he had two black leather dog collars, or at least they looked like it to Rémi. The skinny black-haired boy didn’t use them to encircle his neck, though. He wrapped them around the captive’s bare thighs, a couple inches above the knees. A short length of chain and a pair of small padlocks turned the pet accessories into an effective hobble.
“Follow me,” Théo ordered once his colleague had made their trip safe from kicks or running attempts. The trio got going, with Théo leading and Marc watching the captive from behind.
This meant Rémi had a small, very round pair of shorted buttocks to watch. The reflections over the sheen fabric made them a mesmerizing display, and Rémi could feel his dong growing inside his shorts.
A large door stood at the end of the hall, which Théo unlocked. They climbed a flight of stairs. The sight grew even better for the teenage prisoner, his eyes at the perfect level to ogle the pair of buttocks rolling under the shiny material. He realized the boy behind him had a similar view. He liked it; Rémi felt two hands coming to rest on his butt cheeks, cupping them lightly but firmly. The digits moved and squirmed to knead and feel the fleshy globes through the fabric. It stung a bit and reminded him of the spanking, but Rémi resisted any desire to argue.
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall,” Marc justified himself, his fingers keeping their light massage under the safety pretence until they reached the landing. Théo opened a door and turned around to invite his guest inside his lair. His grin was feral.
They entered a large attic that seemed designed as a playroom. It was carpeted and spacious. There was a large board on trestles that had to be for an electric train or maybe building plastic bricks of huge size. There were posters of toy spaceships and famous video games.
Yet some details spoke of possible consequences for a captive such as Rémi. There was a large wardrobe on the left, and a toys chest on the right. Did they contain gear? Or would they turn out to be storage space to put Rémi away?
The enslaved pupil realized his next predicament had already been planned: he spotted the beam at the end right away, equipped with ropes. Had they planned to use it regardless of the trial’s outcome?
“We couldn’t help it, Rémi, we had to go for a pole-tie. It’s one of our favourites and a good way to keep our prisoners trussed up for a while. It’s rather comfortable, don’t you think?”
“And you may even keep your dignity while you’re standing,” Marc added.
Rémi couldn’t voice out his opinion, of course. He kept wondering what other surprises they had in store for the weekend while Marc and Théo got busy releasing his arms, grabbing him and putting him against the beam. They didn’t say anything while they wove the ropes around Rémi’s limbs and torso, effectively pinning him to the sturdy piece of wood. The victim saw and felt the care his babysitters put into uniting him closely to the house’s frame.
His bum felt warm pressed against the hard surface, but it no longer stung as much. Rémi groaned as Théo wrapped the top of his thighs in six turns of rope; Théo let his fingers slide over the soft, shiny fabric, relishing the twitching inside the shorts.
Once they’d used all the ropes they’d prepared to encircle Rémi’s limbs and torso, they took longer, thinner pieces to make the usual harnesses and reinforce the strength of the underpinning rope work.
The wrapping, weaving, lashing, and cinching that followed made the net imprisoning the victim tighter; the first set of rope coils keeping the prisoner against the beam was tightened; the additional lengths of cord made it much tauter. The punished boy felt completely at his captors’ mercy. He could only wonder when his detention would end.
“Good job,” Théo high-fived his friend as they stood a couple feet back to admire their handiwork. “We’re getting better with symmetry. Worthy of Hervé’s lessons.”
“Let’s treat his nose, this is why we’ve got Rémi bound to the beam,” Marc said, making a pad out of socks he’d brought from his friend’s bedroom. “Scarf, Théo?”
His friend obliged, coming to assist with a large piece of silk that he’d folded in a tight band. Marc laid the three socks over the gagged, leather-covered mouth. He made sure the toes were just underneath their victim’s nostrils while Théo wrapped the scarf over the stinky footwear and knotted it behind Rémi’s neck.
The smell was quite strong, but the pupil didn’t think it would help for learning purposes since it felt like there were socks from both lads and their aromas blended.
“I hope you’ll be grateful to us, Rémi. We’ve put ourselves on the line for making this little ordeal happen,” Théo said.
“We put our feet to the test,” his accomplice approved. “It was a bit gross leaving our socks on for three days and nights.”
“We even played football for two hours daily just to make sure we would get very hot and sweaty. What wouldn’t we do to give our pupils the best? Thankfully, my mom leaves my sneakers alone”
“Your sneakers reek,” Marc laughed. Théo pretended to be offended.
“They might smell a bit, but I’m not sure you may brag about your own feet smelling fresh and flowery. You have a pair of football cleats that are just awful. And you didn’t have them for more than three months!”
Marc smiled bashfully.
“You may be onto something. After wearing them nonstop for a whole day this week, they did smell rather bad. And these are the socks I wore then, with our young Rémi in mind, so he’d get a full nose of his master’s feet.”
“Mmmmrgrmmbbllmm?” Rémi begged pitifully.
“No whining, prisoner,” Théo scolded him. “It’s first class material to train for another test. It may take time, but you will know us all by how ours dicks and feet smell eventually.”
“Don’t fret; we’re good boys and we will help you out with lots of lessons,” Marc offered. “Let’s leave Rémi alone for a little while so he can get better at what we’re teaching him.”
TBC
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 4 – Put to the Test
The two lads undertook putting leatherette gloves and footwear on their charge. They started with his arms, which they freed long enough to put the tight, shiny accessories on. They went up above his elbows, closely wrapping his hands and arms and displaying fascinating reflections. Marc handcuffed them behind his back so they could move on to the mannequin’s legs with their ward adequately deprived of unwanted grabbing or punching.
They untied the ropes, putting them away cautiously; the captors’ tidiness would have made their parents proud.
They had Rémi sit on the couch to put the boots on. These were very high, coming halfway between his knee and crotch.
He had to stand so they could lace up the tight and clinging footwear. Marc and Théo sat next to each other, leaning forward to tighten the laces.
“His prick gets in the way,” Marc remarked after he had to move his head so the aroused and lively member didn’t brush up against his cheek. Before lacing the part of the boot covering Rémi’s thigh, he put the prisoner’s underwear and shorts back on.
“We’ll change them later on,” Théo said. “He’ll wear his fancy shorts for his deportment lesson if we get that far today. His PE shorts will do for cleaning up my room.”
“I like how they look anyway,” Marc replied, patting the perk buttocks with a much milder touch than his previous whacks.
Théo finished the job by adding a leash to the set-up, fixing it to the frontal D-ring on Rémi’s neck. The boy led his guests to his bedroom. Rémi looked around, discovering the house. He’d been taken to Marc’s grandfather’s the first time he’d met them, but this was a new playground. Marc knew the way; he followed his charge with the gait and demeanour of a landlord. They climbed the stairs, with Marc on the lookout for a fall to break.
The move to the first floor went fine; the two wards didn’t have to discipline their charge, who kept taking in the new settings. Rémi did so with his eyes, but his nose gave him useful information too.
He picked the smell of Théo’s room before they entered it. His nostrils flared when tickled by the pubescent lad scent. He’d grown accustomed to other boys’ bodily smells, and he knew they intended to quiz him on this.
The room was a mess: the bed wasn’t made and clothes and toys lay strewn across the floor. Marc unlocked the wrist cuffs, which he pulled in front. Théo had a short length of chain, which they used to keep his hands together a few inches apart.
“Here you go, you can use your hands now. You need to pick everything up and put it away. Pile the clothes on the desk, you’ll get them to the hamper when you’re done. Marc helped out by bringing some dirty laundry.”
“Yup, we had to get his room messy,” Marc said with a dreamy smile, “so there are socks and pairs of underwear I’ve worked hard on. Now, tidy it all up!”
This was enough for the servant, who started performing his chore. He acted as organized as he could, feeling the eyes of his handlers on him the whole time. He picked up socks, tee shirts, and underwear from the floor. Some he had seen before and knew whom they belonged to. He just lay them on the desk as initially instructed, but Théo used the task for his olfactory teaching.
“Nice to gather clothes, but you should smell them first to make sure you’re putting them on the right pile.”
Rémi complied, his invigilators close, watching his every move. He started with the socks. He didn’t need to bring them up to his nose to find out they indeed needed washing. Rémi felt some shame at finding the feet smell arousing.
He then tackled sniffing the three pairs of underwear, which his young master had worn quite a bit and soiled with pre-cum and cum. Marc was on the lookout; they knew their charge. He felt Rémi’s bulging shorts, seizing the wrapped member through the two layers of gliding fabric. The growing prick throbbed under the nimble fingers’ soft touch.
The boy didn’t say a word. It was unusual; they usually pointed out any mistakes or errors straight away. Marc decided to use non-verbal communication; it was tough to interpret for poor Rémi, and he couldn’t escape the boys’ grip.
The combination of the stained and smelly undies with Marc’s caresses took its predictable toll. Warm moisture filled the shorts. Marc, however, let go of the swollen rod just in time to prevent his victim from squirting actual jizz.
“Mmh.”
They heard a discreet complaint.
“You won’t get more, scoundrel. You know what will happen if you to spill your juice? Consider yourself lucky I’m being kind. Or do you really want us to warm up your arse a bit more?”
Rémi hung his head in shame.
“Get moving,” Théo ordered, pointing to the room and getting Rémi out of his immobility. “There’s still work to be done.”
Rémi kept on picking up the clothes and small objects, putting them where Théo told him. Once the floor was cleared, they had him make the bed. Théo fetched a hoover so Rémi could put a finishing touch to his cleaning up job.
It took half an hour to complete the chore. The room ended up tidy, with an uncluttered floor. There were neat piles of folded dirty laundry on the desk.
“You should be able to tell Théo’s clothes from mine just using your nose by now,” Marc said, “because it’s time for a test. Hopefully you pass. If you don’t, I’ll give you private lessons, but I would be miffed.”
Théo took care of getting Rémi’s hands behind his back, with the metallic sound of the cuffs locking and their cold grip informing the prisoner he was helpless again. He then led the contestant to the desk and blindfolded him with a black silk scarf.
“Let’s find out how good of a bloodhound you can be…”
“A bloodhound?” Marc asked. “He’s more of a poodle!”
“I was talking about his sense of smell. Even poodles have a good one.”
The captors in this gang never argued for long.
Théo tightened and knotted the scarf. He used thin strips of tape to fix the fabric to the forehead and cheekbones to make sure Rémi couldn’t see a thing underneath the blindfold.
“Ten items total, five from each of us… Ready for the first one?”
Rémi nodded. The scent of soiled underwear filled his nostrils, and he immediately recognized the owner. He shook his head when Marc asked if it was his, and nodded when his interrogator asked if it was Théo’s.
They repeated the routine for all ten items. Though Rémi could distinguish easily between the various pieces of underwear his captors had honoured with their boy cream, it was much more difficult to make a difference between their socks.
The two test proctors didn’t say anything else except the item number and questions. Rémi could hear some scribbling.
Once they’d recorded his answers about the ten pieces of worn clothing he’d been tasked to identify, they stepped to the other side of the room. The boys whispered and giggled. Rémi couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they didn’t let him in the dark for too long.
He first saw Marc when his blindfold was removed, which meant it was Théo’s hand resting on his shoulder. The ephebic youth whispered in his ear.
“Too bad you didn’t focus enough. It’s eight out of ten…”
“Which means you failed,” Marc added cheerfully.
“And we can’t have our young students fail, can we?”
“No, our pupils have to make up for failed tests… No deportment lesson or butler training, then.”
“… Just some extra time spent smelling our undies and socks! That way you’ll get better at it!”
Rémi moaned his unease, which of course didn’t mollify his strict teachers.
“I’m sure a little meditation time should do you good,” Théo smiled. “There’s an attic upstairs where you’ll enjoy some peace and quiet.”
Marc kneeled at Rémi’s side; he had two black leather dog collars, or at least they looked like it to Rémi. The skinny black-haired boy didn’t use them to encircle his neck, though. He wrapped them around the captive’s bare thighs, a couple inches above the knees. A short length of chain and a pair of small padlocks turned the pet accessories into an effective hobble.
“Follow me,” Théo ordered once his colleague had made their trip safe from kicks or running attempts. The trio got going, with Théo leading and Marc watching the captive from behind.
This meant Rémi had a small, very round pair of shorted buttocks to watch. The reflections over the sheen fabric made them a mesmerizing display, and Rémi could feel his dong growing inside his shorts.
A large door stood at the end of the hall, which Théo unlocked. They climbed a flight of stairs. The sight grew even better for the teenage prisoner, his eyes at the perfect level to ogle the pair of buttocks rolling under the shiny material. He realized the boy behind him had a similar view. He liked it; Rémi felt two hands coming to rest on his butt cheeks, cupping them lightly but firmly. The digits moved and squirmed to knead and feel the fleshy globes through the fabric. It stung a bit and reminded him of the spanking, but Rémi resisted any desire to argue.
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall,” Marc justified himself, his fingers keeping their light massage under the safety pretence until they reached the landing. Théo opened a door and turned around to invite his guest inside his lair. His grin was feral.
They entered a large attic that seemed designed as a playroom. It was carpeted and spacious. There was a large board on trestles that had to be for an electric train or maybe building plastic bricks of huge size. There were posters of toy spaceships and famous video games.
Yet some details spoke of possible consequences for a captive such as Rémi. There was a large wardrobe on the left, and a toys chest on the right. Did they contain gear? Or would they turn out to be storage space to put Rémi away?
The enslaved pupil realized his next predicament had already been planned: he spotted the beam at the end right away, equipped with ropes. Had they planned to use it regardless of the trial’s outcome?
“We couldn’t help it, Rémi, we had to go for a pole-tie. It’s one of our favourites and a good way to keep our prisoners trussed up for a while. It’s rather comfortable, don’t you think?”
“And you may even keep your dignity while you’re standing,” Marc added.
Rémi couldn’t voice out his opinion, of course. He kept wondering what other surprises they had in store for the weekend while Marc and Théo got busy releasing his arms, grabbing him and putting him against the beam. They didn’t say anything while they wove the ropes around Rémi’s limbs and torso, effectively pinning him to the sturdy piece of wood. The victim saw and felt the care his babysitters put into uniting him closely to the house’s frame.
His bum felt warm pressed against the hard surface, but it no longer stung as much. Rémi groaned as Théo wrapped the top of his thighs in six turns of rope; Théo let his fingers slide over the soft, shiny fabric, relishing the twitching inside the shorts.
Once they’d used all the ropes they’d prepared to encircle Rémi’s limbs and torso, they took longer, thinner pieces to make the usual harnesses and reinforce the strength of the underpinning rope work.
The wrapping, weaving, lashing, and cinching that followed made the net imprisoning the victim tighter; the first set of rope coils keeping the prisoner against the beam was tightened; the additional lengths of cord made it much tauter. The punished boy felt completely at his captors’ mercy. He could only wonder when his detention would end.
“Good job,” Théo high-fived his friend as they stood a couple feet back to admire their handiwork. “We’re getting better with symmetry. Worthy of Hervé’s lessons.”
“Let’s treat his nose, this is why we’ve got Rémi bound to the beam,” Marc said, making a pad out of socks he’d brought from his friend’s bedroom. “Scarf, Théo?”
His friend obliged, coming to assist with a large piece of silk that he’d folded in a tight band. Marc laid the three socks over the gagged, leather-covered mouth. He made sure the toes were just underneath their victim’s nostrils while Théo wrapped the scarf over the stinky footwear and knotted it behind Rémi’s neck.
The smell was quite strong, but the pupil didn’t think it would help for learning purposes since it felt like there were socks from both lads and their aromas blended.
“I hope you’ll be grateful to us, Rémi. We’ve put ourselves on the line for making this little ordeal happen,” Théo said.
“We put our feet to the test,” his accomplice approved. “It was a bit gross leaving our socks on for three days and nights.”
“We even played football for two hours daily just to make sure we would get very hot and sweaty. What wouldn’t we do to give our pupils the best? Thankfully, my mom leaves my sneakers alone”
“Your sneakers reek,” Marc laughed. Théo pretended to be offended.
“They might smell a bit, but I’m not sure you may brag about your own feet smelling fresh and flowery. You have a pair of football cleats that are just awful. And you didn’t have them for more than three months!”
Marc smiled bashfully.
“You may be onto something. After wearing them nonstop for a whole day this week, they did smell rather bad. And these are the socks I wore then, with our young Rémi in mind, so he’d get a full nose of his master’s feet.”
“Mmmmrgrmmbbllmm?” Rémi begged pitifully.
“No whining, prisoner,” Théo scolded him. “It’s first class material to train for another test. It may take time, but you will know us all by how ours dicks and feet smell eventually.”
“Don’t fret; we’re good boys and we will help you out with lots of lessons,” Marc offered. “Let’s leave Rémi alone for a little while so he can get better at what we’re teaching him.”
TBC
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Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 5 – Trapped in the Attic
Théo acquiesced and the two buddies checked Rémi’s bonds and gag one last time before they left. Rémi could hear the ‘click’ of the door and the key removed. Did they plan to keep him locked up because Théo’s siblings or parents might be around later on?
Rémi didn’t focus on the mission his short teachers had assigned him. He was instead wondering how this group of younger boys excelled at finding occasions to enslave and imprison a quartet of older teens. His thoughts ran to Aurélien and Thomas; he found it puzzling they had passed a chance to torment him in the company of their mates.
His relatives managed to hide most of what their devious little minds concocted for their submissive teenage cousin. Their creativity was put to good use dominating Rémi’s friends too. And the rest of their gang helped to find creative ways to subdue and control their “little pupils.” They made sure every one of them was under their rules whenever possible. This kept the captors busy. What were Aurélien and Thomas doing at this moment? Were they torturing Philippe or turning Nicolas into a baby?
His imagination went on running wild; it helped time go by faster. It also kept his shorts inflated, displaying an obvious – and obscene – bulge in front.
Rémi literally lost track of time; he had no idea his captors had left him to ‘meditate’ for one hour and a half when he heard the key turn and saw the two pretty sadists smiling at him.
“I’m sure you missed us!” Théo bragged, taking in the display from two steps away before coming closer and starting to feel the ropes and the body parts they wrapped up.
“Our rope work hasn’t moved by a micron,” he boasted. “I’ll take it we’re really good tiers or Rémi is a very poor escape artist.”
“He wants to stay with us,” Marc suggested as he came next to his friend to see what their prisoner was up to. “He loves our socks.”
Marc reached for Rémi’s bulging shorts. The penis seemed almost at its biggest, though Marc’s subtle caressing got it to tense up even more. An additional pumping of the erect tube got the horny captive to moan.
“Is our pupil horny, Marc?” Théo asked. He knew the answer, of course, but he’d noticed how much the verbal taunting managed to cause emotions in their boys.
“He sure feels that way. I wonder if he can burst his shorts.”
“We can’t let him damage the clothes he borrowed from Hervé.”
“That would make him angry indeed; do you have anything in mind to help our young pupil out?”
Théo pulled a piece of fabric from the back of his shorts. It was a large handkerchief, made of silk satin. It bore stains, which were obviously semen. Théo dangled the thing in front of his face.
The scarf and socks covering his nose should have covered any scent coming from the dark blue handkerchief, but Rémi would have sworn he could detect the pungent smell.
“We’ve contributed to a cum-filled hanky. It was quite fun, and we’re going to have you add to it, if only it gets you to calm down a bit and avoid tearing your shorts apart with your big boner.”
Marc slid his hand under the waistband on a search for its throbbing content; he grabbed the dick from under the swimwear and shorts; a quick flick of the wrist got the clothes out of the way and let the lively member soar. A bead of pre-cum shone at the end. Théo wouldn’t let it drop; he wiped the tip of the big dick with his handkerchief.
Then four hands got busy over Rémi’s midsection. Théo slid the moist, gooey piece of silk over the jutting rod, wrapping it completely inside and making sure any liquid would be collected in the navy-blue material. Once the unrelenting piece of flesh was fully sheathed, Théo got working. With a set of fingers wrapped around his sausage, another one brushing against his ball sack, and the regular rubbing of satin against his foreskin, the horny student felt desire rise up in his loins. He knew it would go very fast and it did.
Marc fondled the captive’s buttocks. The attention and physical contact made what came next unavoidable.
Semen gushed out as Rémi started making strange noises; it came from deep within, and the gag muffled most of it, but it sounded like a deep wail, a ghostly and frightening utterance that almost caused concern to his attendants.
“Wow!” Théo exclaimed, holding on to the jerking member not to let a drop fall to the floor.
“He sounds strange, doesn’t he?” Marc said, checking that Rémi was fine. He had a dry silk scarf at hand and he finished the wiping and drying of the deflating penis.
“That’s what happens when a boy really lusts for you. It has happened with Philippe once when I went for a sleepover with Hervé. I thought he was choking or something, but it’s just that I was getting him to orgasm. So, Rémi, feeling better?”
Rémi nodded shyly. He was relaxing and his cock deflated. When Marc was satisfied with the small size and dryness of the teenage member, he tucked it away inside the shorts.
Rémi was coming back to the harsh reality of being the boys’ captive. He looked into Théo’s eyes with the best pleading look he could muster.
“Glad you’re doing fine. We’re going to give you a little break.”
The prisoner expected to be freed. Marc and Théo stood by his sides and got busy ridding his head of the various gag layers.
“Phew! These socks do smell!” Marc complained as he untied the silk scarf and collected the socks it kept underneath, filling Rémi’s nostrils with feet smells.
Théo laughed as he patted the front of Rémi’s shorts, which had started growing again.
“It didn’t seem to bother our little piggy here! Hervé’s right to say they’re swine,” he said and went on unlacing the hood.
There was a moan of protest; Théo’s tone changed abruptly.
“No complaining, lad! We may call you any name we like; you’d better not have anything to say about it. We’re about to remove your gag so you may get a drink of water, so don’t even think of making a fuss. You know well enough how we crack down on rebellious behaviour.”
Rémi let them chastise him as they finished removing the tape. Eventually, Marc pulled the dirty – and saliva-soaked – undies from his mouth. Rémi kept his jaws opened wide as the black-haired boy set the dribbling mass in a plastic bag which he set on a nearby stool.
Théo had taken a bottle of water out of his sports bag. He watched Rémi, who remained perfectly still and silent as he unscrewed the cap off.
“I guess all this training does bear some fruit.”
He approached and his submissive guest gladly took in the water that flowed into his mouth. Théo went slowly. It could be fun tilting one’s wrist to get more water flowing and have the captive choke, but he hadn’t planned anything messy. His mom wouldn’t take too kindly to a stained carpet.
Marc stood next to Théo. He held a large, clean napkin. The thirsty prisoner enjoyed his freed mouth and guzzled down the litre of water Théo offered him. Marc stood in ambush. He used the napkin to wipe Rémi’s face.
Rémi was a bit disconcerted when the piece of linen got off his face.
“Lips sealed, and stay quiet,” Théo smirked. “There’s something better to stick inside your gob, don’t you remember?”
Rémi didn’t immediately remember, but Théo picked up the soiled silk handkerchief. The look and smell of the dark satin piece that Théo retrieved betrayed the fact three horny lads had used it as a wank rag.
“Open big, then,” Théo said as he brought the tainted fabric close to Rémi’s lips. They parted and Théo slowly and softly inserted the ball of damp material. It wasn’t too big, considering his tormentors’ usual standards in size of wadding.
“Close your mouth and start sucking on it. You will suck every single drop of cum and clean it perfectly. We’ll check you’ve removed all the whitish stuff. Meanwhile, we still have to give you wadding that matches the penalties you’ve earned, what with the wanking and all…” Théo said, winking to Marc, who knew what was up.
“You mean strict and severe wadding? I think we may just have the right one…””
They stood in front of Rémi, making sure he could see them perfectly, and started what looked like a practiced choreography. Their little spins and arm moves all lead to the same outcome: they removed shoes, socks, pants, shorts, while swirling and waving. They ended up in underwear.
Rémi didn’t mind the display at all. It was a wonderful show. They had flashy spandex underwear, which enhanced the fact that they both sported strong and healthy boners. The sheen of the light blue Lycra betrayed the state of the bulging quite obviously. It seemed their little teachers were also getting tailor-made clothing.
They did a few more moves by themselves, looking straight at their prisoner; it then grew into a much more erotic dance, as they turned sideways. They ground their hips in a very provocative fashion; from the side their bulging underwear looked even more impressive. They faced each other, locking eyes and twisting their waist in sync. They moved closer, sliding forward slowly until their crotches touched; they ground their hips and next their hands came into play. Rémi was mesmerized. He could feel how much his little friend below had recovered from its release, and was now under the charm of the pair of exotic dancers.
They ended up with Théo behind Marc, embracing him and fondling his underwear’s content, pumping artfully, while Marc reached behind and returned the favour. Their grunts and vocal comments grew in intensity.
The lads weren’t gagged, and Théo knew he could do as much noise as he wanted. He had run a few experiments with Maxim, the boy Marc and he had learned their captor’s trade with. Yelling couldn’t be heard from the outside with the windows closed.
They moaned and panted, wailing their gratitude and eagerness.
“Man!”
“Oh! Fuck!”
“That was like…”
“Oh, thank God!”
This gibberish wasn’t any more meaningful than his’s own vocal reactions, Rémi thought. There were times when a gag prevented you from making a fool out of yourself, the pole-tied boy comforted himself. He was starting to feel quite special, and even a bit superior for being able to take the treatments he been submitted to over the last six months.
Rémi saw Marc’s cock jerk and twist; Théo spread the seeping semen on the front of the underwear, fondling the leaking member and getting all its juice out. Marc’s hands remained behind him, so he was probably doing the same., which not only made the whole piece of clothing tainted with boy juice, but also prevented any unclean dripping on the carpet.
The boys didn’t stay locked to each other for long. Their goal was to grow the mouth filling that was already in Rémi’s mouth. It tasted like cum, but he had sucked and swallowed most of the juice.
Having parted, the two stooges were back to their initial pose and lowered their soiled briefs, which they waved in front, stopping a few inches from Rémi’s lips.
Théo snapped his free hand’s fingers; Rémi opened wide in response. They’d worked over a few prompts like this over the summer, and the pupil was glad to show he remembered the trick.
Marc’s underwear went in first; the black-haired boy pushed and prodded to fill his mouth to the right.
Théo was next, and set his own on the left side. Marc got the Elastoplast ready in the meantime.
Théo pulled the captive’s lips together over the brimming mass of spunk-soaked Lycra. Marc had the wide and unrelenting strip ready. He brought it over Rémi’s lower face, sealing his lips and making it much more difficult to move his jaws.
“We’ll spare you the hood for this next bout of meditation,” Théo announced magnanimously. “Let’s get decent again.”
They both put on more of what looked like swimwear, some very wrapping, tight, and shiny black Speedos. They could turn their attention to the gagging again.
Théo brought some Coban wrap roll in his hand—no hood didn’t mean a lenient gag. Thankfully, the two turns he first made over his lips and around his head weren’t overly tight. He felt Marc setting a small cushion behind his head. Théo did just what his victim expected, and turns over his forehead ensued, trapping the skull immobile to the beam. Théo’s last turn went over Rémi’s eyes, effectively blinding him.
“Now, it’s not totally over. We have a little toy to try out.”
“Two, actually!” Marc corrected.
Rémi felt the waist bands of his shorts and underwear being pulled out and the cold touch of metal over his prick.
“Vibrating eggs,” Marc said, adjusting the two round objects inside Rémi’s shorts. “They’re sex toys,” he added with a mischievous tone.
“And when I push this button, they vibrate!”
Théo laughed and Rémi felt the effect. He’d been aroused again by the half hour of attention from his captors and the titillating vibrations could take him to another orgasm. He’d have to watch out.
“That’s the low setting; go to mild or high, this is Rémi we’re dealing with.”
“You’re right. Hervé always says that higher settings should be picked to deal with poor performance.”
The boys didn’t bother making much sense with their banter; Rémi could no longer process their words properly anyway. He was lost to his senses. The heightened vibration level really stimulated him. It wasn’t a hand, a mouth or a bum, yet he had to face the prospect of jizzing his shorts again, much to his keepers’ delight and with further ordeals in the days and weeks to come.
“We thought that all the socks together might have been a bit too difficult for an extra lesson. For the next ones, you should have to smell something from only one of us,” Théo explained. “I’ve told you about Marc’s cleat, it’s certainly better than just socks so you can start recognizing his feet’s smell.”
Rémi wasn’t warned just by words; a cheesy aroma hit his nose and grew until the open cleat crashed over his nose and lower face. They had the heel on top, so it didn’t fully blind him.
“Mmmmmmrmmmfggrmmmbllmmm!!!!?”
Three further turns of stretchy and clinging bandage irremediably fixed the cleat over his nose and kept his pinned against the hard wood. The vibrations in his undies couldn’t be dismissed… Rémi wondered whether he had enough willpower to get him through without spilling his boy juice again.
TBC
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 5 – Trapped in the Attic
Théo acquiesced and the two buddies checked Rémi’s bonds and gag one last time before they left. Rémi could hear the ‘click’ of the door and the key removed. Did they plan to keep him locked up because Théo’s siblings or parents might be around later on?
Rémi didn’t focus on the mission his short teachers had assigned him. He was instead wondering how this group of younger boys excelled at finding occasions to enslave and imprison a quartet of older teens. His thoughts ran to Aurélien and Thomas; he found it puzzling they had passed a chance to torment him in the company of their mates.
His relatives managed to hide most of what their devious little minds concocted for their submissive teenage cousin. Their creativity was put to good use dominating Rémi’s friends too. And the rest of their gang helped to find creative ways to subdue and control their “little pupils.” They made sure every one of them was under their rules whenever possible. This kept the captors busy. What were Aurélien and Thomas doing at this moment? Were they torturing Philippe or turning Nicolas into a baby?
His imagination went on running wild; it helped time go by faster. It also kept his shorts inflated, displaying an obvious – and obscene – bulge in front.
Rémi literally lost track of time; he had no idea his captors had left him to ‘meditate’ for one hour and a half when he heard the key turn and saw the two pretty sadists smiling at him.
“I’m sure you missed us!” Théo bragged, taking in the display from two steps away before coming closer and starting to feel the ropes and the body parts they wrapped up.
“Our rope work hasn’t moved by a micron,” he boasted. “I’ll take it we’re really good tiers or Rémi is a very poor escape artist.”
“He wants to stay with us,” Marc suggested as he came next to his friend to see what their prisoner was up to. “He loves our socks.”
Marc reached for Rémi’s bulging shorts. The penis seemed almost at its biggest, though Marc’s subtle caressing got it to tense up even more. An additional pumping of the erect tube got the horny captive to moan.
“Is our pupil horny, Marc?” Théo asked. He knew the answer, of course, but he’d noticed how much the verbal taunting managed to cause emotions in their boys.
“He sure feels that way. I wonder if he can burst his shorts.”
“We can’t let him damage the clothes he borrowed from Hervé.”
“That would make him angry indeed; do you have anything in mind to help our young pupil out?”
Théo pulled a piece of fabric from the back of his shorts. It was a large handkerchief, made of silk satin. It bore stains, which were obviously semen. Théo dangled the thing in front of his face.
The scarf and socks covering his nose should have covered any scent coming from the dark blue handkerchief, but Rémi would have sworn he could detect the pungent smell.
“We’ve contributed to a cum-filled hanky. It was quite fun, and we’re going to have you add to it, if only it gets you to calm down a bit and avoid tearing your shorts apart with your big boner.”
Marc slid his hand under the waistband on a search for its throbbing content; he grabbed the dick from under the swimwear and shorts; a quick flick of the wrist got the clothes out of the way and let the lively member soar. A bead of pre-cum shone at the end. Théo wouldn’t let it drop; he wiped the tip of the big dick with his handkerchief.
Then four hands got busy over Rémi’s midsection. Théo slid the moist, gooey piece of silk over the jutting rod, wrapping it completely inside and making sure any liquid would be collected in the navy-blue material. Once the unrelenting piece of flesh was fully sheathed, Théo got working. With a set of fingers wrapped around his sausage, another one brushing against his ball sack, and the regular rubbing of satin against his foreskin, the horny student felt desire rise up in his loins. He knew it would go very fast and it did.
Marc fondled the captive’s buttocks. The attention and physical contact made what came next unavoidable.
Semen gushed out as Rémi started making strange noises; it came from deep within, and the gag muffled most of it, but it sounded like a deep wail, a ghostly and frightening utterance that almost caused concern to his attendants.
“Wow!” Théo exclaimed, holding on to the jerking member not to let a drop fall to the floor.
“He sounds strange, doesn’t he?” Marc said, checking that Rémi was fine. He had a dry silk scarf at hand and he finished the wiping and drying of the deflating penis.
“That’s what happens when a boy really lusts for you. It has happened with Philippe once when I went for a sleepover with Hervé. I thought he was choking or something, but it’s just that I was getting him to orgasm. So, Rémi, feeling better?”
Rémi nodded shyly. He was relaxing and his cock deflated. When Marc was satisfied with the small size and dryness of the teenage member, he tucked it away inside the shorts.
Rémi was coming back to the harsh reality of being the boys’ captive. He looked into Théo’s eyes with the best pleading look he could muster.
“Glad you’re doing fine. We’re going to give you a little break.”
The prisoner expected to be freed. Marc and Théo stood by his sides and got busy ridding his head of the various gag layers.
“Phew! These socks do smell!” Marc complained as he untied the silk scarf and collected the socks it kept underneath, filling Rémi’s nostrils with feet smells.
Théo laughed as he patted the front of Rémi’s shorts, which had started growing again.
“It didn’t seem to bother our little piggy here! Hervé’s right to say they’re swine,” he said and went on unlacing the hood.
There was a moan of protest; Théo’s tone changed abruptly.
“No complaining, lad! We may call you any name we like; you’d better not have anything to say about it. We’re about to remove your gag so you may get a drink of water, so don’t even think of making a fuss. You know well enough how we crack down on rebellious behaviour.”
Rémi let them chastise him as they finished removing the tape. Eventually, Marc pulled the dirty – and saliva-soaked – undies from his mouth. Rémi kept his jaws opened wide as the black-haired boy set the dribbling mass in a plastic bag which he set on a nearby stool.
Théo had taken a bottle of water out of his sports bag. He watched Rémi, who remained perfectly still and silent as he unscrewed the cap off.
“I guess all this training does bear some fruit.”
He approached and his submissive guest gladly took in the water that flowed into his mouth. Théo went slowly. It could be fun tilting one’s wrist to get more water flowing and have the captive choke, but he hadn’t planned anything messy. His mom wouldn’t take too kindly to a stained carpet.
Marc stood next to Théo. He held a large, clean napkin. The thirsty prisoner enjoyed his freed mouth and guzzled down the litre of water Théo offered him. Marc stood in ambush. He used the napkin to wipe Rémi’s face.
Rémi was a bit disconcerted when the piece of linen got off his face.
“Lips sealed, and stay quiet,” Théo smirked. “There’s something better to stick inside your gob, don’t you remember?”
Rémi didn’t immediately remember, but Théo picked up the soiled silk handkerchief. The look and smell of the dark satin piece that Théo retrieved betrayed the fact three horny lads had used it as a wank rag.
“Open big, then,” Théo said as he brought the tainted fabric close to Rémi’s lips. They parted and Théo slowly and softly inserted the ball of damp material. It wasn’t too big, considering his tormentors’ usual standards in size of wadding.
“Close your mouth and start sucking on it. You will suck every single drop of cum and clean it perfectly. We’ll check you’ve removed all the whitish stuff. Meanwhile, we still have to give you wadding that matches the penalties you’ve earned, what with the wanking and all…” Théo said, winking to Marc, who knew what was up.
“You mean strict and severe wadding? I think we may just have the right one…””
They stood in front of Rémi, making sure he could see them perfectly, and started what looked like a practiced choreography. Their little spins and arm moves all lead to the same outcome: they removed shoes, socks, pants, shorts, while swirling and waving. They ended up in underwear.
Rémi didn’t mind the display at all. It was a wonderful show. They had flashy spandex underwear, which enhanced the fact that they both sported strong and healthy boners. The sheen of the light blue Lycra betrayed the state of the bulging quite obviously. It seemed their little teachers were also getting tailor-made clothing.
They did a few more moves by themselves, looking straight at their prisoner; it then grew into a much more erotic dance, as they turned sideways. They ground their hips in a very provocative fashion; from the side their bulging underwear looked even more impressive. They faced each other, locking eyes and twisting their waist in sync. They moved closer, sliding forward slowly until their crotches touched; they ground their hips and next their hands came into play. Rémi was mesmerized. He could feel how much his little friend below had recovered from its release, and was now under the charm of the pair of exotic dancers.
They ended up with Théo behind Marc, embracing him and fondling his underwear’s content, pumping artfully, while Marc reached behind and returned the favour. Their grunts and vocal comments grew in intensity.
The lads weren’t gagged, and Théo knew he could do as much noise as he wanted. He had run a few experiments with Maxim, the boy Marc and he had learned their captor’s trade with. Yelling couldn’t be heard from the outside with the windows closed.
They moaned and panted, wailing their gratitude and eagerness.
“Man!”
“Oh! Fuck!”
“That was like…”
“Oh, thank God!”
This gibberish wasn’t any more meaningful than his’s own vocal reactions, Rémi thought. There were times when a gag prevented you from making a fool out of yourself, the pole-tied boy comforted himself. He was starting to feel quite special, and even a bit superior for being able to take the treatments he been submitted to over the last six months.
Rémi saw Marc’s cock jerk and twist; Théo spread the seeping semen on the front of the underwear, fondling the leaking member and getting all its juice out. Marc’s hands remained behind him, so he was probably doing the same., which not only made the whole piece of clothing tainted with boy juice, but also prevented any unclean dripping on the carpet.
The boys didn’t stay locked to each other for long. Their goal was to grow the mouth filling that was already in Rémi’s mouth. It tasted like cum, but he had sucked and swallowed most of the juice.
Having parted, the two stooges were back to their initial pose and lowered their soiled briefs, which they waved in front, stopping a few inches from Rémi’s lips.
Théo snapped his free hand’s fingers; Rémi opened wide in response. They’d worked over a few prompts like this over the summer, and the pupil was glad to show he remembered the trick.
Marc’s underwear went in first; the black-haired boy pushed and prodded to fill his mouth to the right.
Théo was next, and set his own on the left side. Marc got the Elastoplast ready in the meantime.
Théo pulled the captive’s lips together over the brimming mass of spunk-soaked Lycra. Marc had the wide and unrelenting strip ready. He brought it over Rémi’s lower face, sealing his lips and making it much more difficult to move his jaws.
“We’ll spare you the hood for this next bout of meditation,” Théo announced magnanimously. “Let’s get decent again.”
They both put on more of what looked like swimwear, some very wrapping, tight, and shiny black Speedos. They could turn their attention to the gagging again.
Théo brought some Coban wrap roll in his hand—no hood didn’t mean a lenient gag. Thankfully, the two turns he first made over his lips and around his head weren’t overly tight. He felt Marc setting a small cushion behind his head. Théo did just what his victim expected, and turns over his forehead ensued, trapping the skull immobile to the beam. Théo’s last turn went over Rémi’s eyes, effectively blinding him.
“Now, it’s not totally over. We have a little toy to try out.”
“Two, actually!” Marc corrected.
Rémi felt the waist bands of his shorts and underwear being pulled out and the cold touch of metal over his prick.
“Vibrating eggs,” Marc said, adjusting the two round objects inside Rémi’s shorts. “They’re sex toys,” he added with a mischievous tone.
“And when I push this button, they vibrate!”
Théo laughed and Rémi felt the effect. He’d been aroused again by the half hour of attention from his captors and the titillating vibrations could take him to another orgasm. He’d have to watch out.
“That’s the low setting; go to mild or high, this is Rémi we’re dealing with.”
“You’re right. Hervé always says that higher settings should be picked to deal with poor performance.”
The boys didn’t bother making much sense with their banter; Rémi could no longer process their words properly anyway. He was lost to his senses. The heightened vibration level really stimulated him. It wasn’t a hand, a mouth or a bum, yet he had to face the prospect of jizzing his shorts again, much to his keepers’ delight and with further ordeals in the days and weeks to come.
“We thought that all the socks together might have been a bit too difficult for an extra lesson. For the next ones, you should have to smell something from only one of us,” Théo explained. “I’ve told you about Marc’s cleat, it’s certainly better than just socks so you can start recognizing his feet’s smell.”
Rémi wasn’t warned just by words; a cheesy aroma hit his nose and grew until the open cleat crashed over his nose and lower face. They had the heel on top, so it didn’t fully blind him.
“Mmmmmmrmmmfggrmmmbllmmm!!!!?”
Three further turns of stretchy and clinging bandage irremediably fixed the cleat over his nose and kept his pinned against the hard wood. The vibrations in his undies couldn’t be dismissed… Rémi wondered whether he had enough willpower to get him through without spilling his boy juice again.
TBC
-
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 6 – Lay Down for a While
“Now, Rémi, we’ve taken good care of you. You’ve had some water, so we may leave you unattended for a while.”
Rémi felt hands over his body and the ropes as Théo spoke in a smirky tone; he was checking his rope work. Marc chirped in.
“You’d better not cream your undies again, Rem. Just learn to enjoy having my shoe over your face, since it will happen often in the future. Should there be an escape challenge, Théo?”
“This would be most welcome. Rémi can’t let us believe he enjoys being bound and gagged, can he?” Théo gloated. “Even though we’ll leave him unattended, it doesn’t mean he’ll be left all alone! It’s much nicer to see a prisoner writhe.”
“And then we know he’s still conscious.”
“You heard us, Rémi. Try to get out. If you can’t, you might try to call out for help. Who knows? Maybe some passer-by will hear you.”
“Rmmmrmmmgrmmphhmmmmmrff!”
Rémi seemed already in the throes of erotic ecstasy; it sure didn’t sound like a call for help. The squirming that went on for the next hour or so didn’t seek escaping only—or maybe just from the torture of the vibrating devices.
The devious gadgets stretched his undies and brought him some very arousing sensations. Breathing through his nose caused some further stimulation. The strong fumes from the cleats betrayed the use of cheap materials, some sort of plastic. If worn for a long time as Marc had claimed, it helped to grow the worst – or best – feet smell.
They’d worn closed plastic sandals during their summer stay in the claws of their young disciplinarians, and the choice of women stockings as their footwear let the eight feet stew and simmer for thirty-six hours, giving out memorable outputs. The scent was strong even before they removed the sandals, but once the cheap plastic footwear was off, the pungent aromas had forced Hervé to open the room’s windows.
The worn socks and smelly sandals had already been the subject of a lesson and a test then, which they had all passed with flying colours. They performed well as a group.
Rémi got lost into his world of subdued immobility and silence. The scent was overwhelming. The throbbing eggs went on arousing him. He could sense that Marc and Théo were still around, moving stuff and doing things. He couldn’t focus on them, and he wondered how long he’d spent there after a while, trying to fight the desire tingling all over.
He’d been squirming and moaning all along. Someone got close, and the cleat fell after the bandage was unwrapped from the pole. The vet wrap blinding him came off. He saw Marc, whom he identified by his hair. His glasses, which had been removed to blindfold him, came back to perch on his nose, with the adequate fixing of the temples on top of his ears.
They let the brown bandage dangle, not bothering to remove it further. The gag would stay in a bit longer.
“Have a look at what we’ve prepared for you,” Marc announced proudly.
Rémi saw a bench. He also noticed immediately lots of work had been performed on it. There were straps at numerous locations, which made the piece of furniture’s purpose obvious to someone used to tie-up activities.
At least he would be lying down.
“We wondered about a ball-tie to finish your detention time this evening. But this would mean removing your boots,” Théo explained.
The boots did make it difficult to flex his knees.
“So we’ll have you get some rest.”
“We’ll even keep you company this time,” Marc chirped in.
“Let’s get you out of your current pickle,” Théo said, pressing on the remote and stopping the vibrating gizmos. He reached into the shorts and picked up the one that had drifted down to the left. He grimaced as he pulled it out, holding it preciously between his index finger and his thumb.
“It’s all slimy!”
He brought it close to his nose, keeping his eyes into Rémi’s.
“Definitely not pee.”
Marc was curious and he endeavoured to retrieve the other egg.
“So, did he actually cream his shorts or just leak some juice?”
Marc crouched in front of Rémi.
“The shorts are a bit wet, but the spot doesn’t seem big enough for creaming; the stain is too small to earn him a punishment.”
Théo joined him. Rémi would have loved being able to look down and check for himself, but there were still turns of gummy gauze pulling the bottom of his face against the beam. For instance, he’d have spotted Théo’s pointy tongue before it licked the mentioned spot. The boys’ attention was as stimulating as the electronic devices, if not more so.
The boys laughed seeing the cock twitch wildly when the tongue made contact.
“You’ve held on real good so far. Are you going to disappoint us?” Théo asked.
“Mrrgrmmphmmmbblllmmgrmphmmmm!”
Rémi was in distress; Théo had withdrawn, but his goon took over. This time, a ring of lips surrounded his foreskin and a mouth sucked and pumped him. Feeling he was lost, Rémi surrendered, hoping to get a first-rate orgasm.
The cruel mouth pulled off just as he’d made his decision, as if it could read his mind. Rémi would get no relief. His first thought wasn’t about how it saved him from further punishment.
“MMMMmmmmm!”
“He didn’t cream, but the spot is much bigger than what is usually allowed.”
He did protest this time. It was so unfair! He’d fought and managed to resist his predicament only to lose because of their treacherous sucking! And they wouldn’t take him all the way? He begged for release but was predictably ignored.
His captors moved on to the next stage. Théo and Marc adopted the usual focus and attention mode that was the norm when moving a captive from one position to his next bondage. They looked at each other and made signs, which they tried to keep unseen from their charge.
Practice paid and it meant that they were also quite fast. The usual cuffs and chains appeared, so Rémi could be hobbled before being totally untied.
They removed the ropes in sequence, coiling them up cautiously and setting them on the large board.
Rémi ended up standing two feet in front of the pole, with cuffs at his ankles and wrists, hands behind his back. He still had his lower face covered by the sticky Elastoplast trapping the three pairs of underwear in his gob. His shorts and underwear had been removed; he wore only boots and gloves.
Thankfully, it was still quite warm in the attic even though the sun had set a couple of hours ago.
“Do you need to pee?” Théo asked his charge.
“Or poo?” Marc asked. Handling prisoners’ intimate functions was a highlight for Marc, as it was for Thomas. Rémi had been in both boys’ hands at times, which had meant getting an enema and possibly getting his bum stuffed with dildos or plugs of various makes.
Rémi wasn’t disappointed. Théo let his friend volunteer to give Rémi his bathroom break. Marc laid a hand on Rémi’s shoulder and directed him outside the attic. There was a small bathroom on the landing, with a toilet and a sink. This was enough for his minder to administer the full cleansing treatment. He was allowed to excrete naturally, which gave good results and got Marc to cheer him up. The enema wasn’t very big, and Marc used mild water with just a bit of salt. He did repeat the operation “to make sure.”
Marc dried the butt crack, making sure it was perfectly clean in the process. He didn’t stop commenting his work to the recipient of his ministrations.
“You’ve got a clean back side. That’s nice, I can stuff it without having a mess.”
Rémi felt his butt hole being greased, and a small hand lodged a plug up his arse. It felt like the thinnest one. The young minder wasn’t done with the fleshy behind. He wiped the crack from any remaining grease and Rémi then felt greasier stuff spread on his bum.
“It’s soothing cream. It will get your bum to lose its pinkish colour overnight.”
Rémi enjoyed the comforting caresses for almost five full minutes. Once the cream had penetrated properly and the skin was dry, Marc went to the sink and washed his hands.
“Since you soiled your underwear, we’ll have to get you some clean ones. We can’t leave you naked like this,” Marc stated. “Let’s get back and see with Théo what we should have you wear.”
They entered the attic. Théo was lying on the couch, wiping his dick after having honoured yet another silk scarf, which he neatly folded and put aside as he got back in a sitting position and leisurely set his three-piece suit inside the more proper confine of his shorts. He didn’t seem fazed by the newcomers ogling him.
“Thanks for getting him all clean and ready for more fun,” Théo said as he looked at Marc and his charge. “We can’t have his dong wave and bobble like this, though.”
“I told him we’d decide what he wears next.”
“Forest green silk undies and latex shorts?”
“Great combo. I’ll get them.”
The pair crouched in front of their prisoner, laughing at his priapic condition.
“It’s not boys we’re handling, it’s boners on legs!”
Rémi was getting used to these tailor-made garments. The thin, smooth silk slid up his legs and wrapped his crotch closely. There was space in front, which seemed a feature of the clothing Hervé got for them.
The latex shorts that followed were cut similarly. Rémi’s bottom was tightly enclosed in gleaming rubber once the pair of shorts had been fully adjusted. The plug up his bum couldn’t be ignored once he was enclosed in fabric from his waist to the top of his thighs. A little pat on his bum from Théo let him know the dressing-up was complete. The kinky teen could move on to his next plan.
“There is something we haven’t done in a long time, Rémi. What about having us sit on you?”
“The bench is perfect for this!”
“Mrrmmmph?”
Rémi had spent time spread-eagled in the grass over the summer. He wasn’t alone, of course, and the four of them had been thus bound to make a nice figure.
Aurélien and Cédric had hammered in four stakes like the corners of a square. The four boys had their feet almost touching, kept apart and linked to two stakes each.
Once the four boys had been laid with their ankles cuffed to the stakes, their captors had taken care of them one by one, freeing their hands from behind their backs to pin them to the ground the same way their feet were, with stakes planted solidly and deeply into the ground.
Then their captors had come to sit on them, tickling them, sitting on their chests and gloating, as the four teenage pupils were of course all thoroughly gagged.
Over the afternoon the young masters had grown bolder and graduated to nose or ear flicking, hair pulling or even face-sitting.
To Rémi’s great shame, he’d longed for feeling the bum and thighs of other boys pinning him down with just their weight. Usually, a strict tie-up ensued. This was how it had gone time the first time he was abducted by Hervé and his goons.
TBC
Chapter 6 – Lay Down for a While
“Now, Rémi, we’ve taken good care of you. You’ve had some water, so we may leave you unattended for a while.”
Rémi felt hands over his body and the ropes as Théo spoke in a smirky tone; he was checking his rope work. Marc chirped in.
“You’d better not cream your undies again, Rem. Just learn to enjoy having my shoe over your face, since it will happen often in the future. Should there be an escape challenge, Théo?”
“This would be most welcome. Rémi can’t let us believe he enjoys being bound and gagged, can he?” Théo gloated. “Even though we’ll leave him unattended, it doesn’t mean he’ll be left all alone! It’s much nicer to see a prisoner writhe.”
“And then we know he’s still conscious.”
“You heard us, Rémi. Try to get out. If you can’t, you might try to call out for help. Who knows? Maybe some passer-by will hear you.”
“Rmmmrmmmgrmmphhmmmmmrff!”
Rémi seemed already in the throes of erotic ecstasy; it sure didn’t sound like a call for help. The squirming that went on for the next hour or so didn’t seek escaping only—or maybe just from the torture of the vibrating devices.
The devious gadgets stretched his undies and brought him some very arousing sensations. Breathing through his nose caused some further stimulation. The strong fumes from the cleats betrayed the use of cheap materials, some sort of plastic. If worn for a long time as Marc had claimed, it helped to grow the worst – or best – feet smell.
They’d worn closed plastic sandals during their summer stay in the claws of their young disciplinarians, and the choice of women stockings as their footwear let the eight feet stew and simmer for thirty-six hours, giving out memorable outputs. The scent was strong even before they removed the sandals, but once the cheap plastic footwear was off, the pungent aromas had forced Hervé to open the room’s windows.
The worn socks and smelly sandals had already been the subject of a lesson and a test then, which they had all passed with flying colours. They performed well as a group.
Rémi got lost into his world of subdued immobility and silence. The scent was overwhelming. The throbbing eggs went on arousing him. He could sense that Marc and Théo were still around, moving stuff and doing things. He couldn’t focus on them, and he wondered how long he’d spent there after a while, trying to fight the desire tingling all over.
He’d been squirming and moaning all along. Someone got close, and the cleat fell after the bandage was unwrapped from the pole. The vet wrap blinding him came off. He saw Marc, whom he identified by his hair. His glasses, which had been removed to blindfold him, came back to perch on his nose, with the adequate fixing of the temples on top of his ears.
They let the brown bandage dangle, not bothering to remove it further. The gag would stay in a bit longer.
“Have a look at what we’ve prepared for you,” Marc announced proudly.
Rémi saw a bench. He also noticed immediately lots of work had been performed on it. There were straps at numerous locations, which made the piece of furniture’s purpose obvious to someone used to tie-up activities.
At least he would be lying down.
“We wondered about a ball-tie to finish your detention time this evening. But this would mean removing your boots,” Théo explained.
The boots did make it difficult to flex his knees.
“So we’ll have you get some rest.”
“We’ll even keep you company this time,” Marc chirped in.
“Let’s get you out of your current pickle,” Théo said, pressing on the remote and stopping the vibrating gizmos. He reached into the shorts and picked up the one that had drifted down to the left. He grimaced as he pulled it out, holding it preciously between his index finger and his thumb.
“It’s all slimy!”
He brought it close to his nose, keeping his eyes into Rémi’s.
“Definitely not pee.”
Marc was curious and he endeavoured to retrieve the other egg.
“So, did he actually cream his shorts or just leak some juice?”
Marc crouched in front of Rémi.
“The shorts are a bit wet, but the spot doesn’t seem big enough for creaming; the stain is too small to earn him a punishment.”
Théo joined him. Rémi would have loved being able to look down and check for himself, but there were still turns of gummy gauze pulling the bottom of his face against the beam. For instance, he’d have spotted Théo’s pointy tongue before it licked the mentioned spot. The boys’ attention was as stimulating as the electronic devices, if not more so.
The boys laughed seeing the cock twitch wildly when the tongue made contact.
“You’ve held on real good so far. Are you going to disappoint us?” Théo asked.
“Mrrgrmmphmmmbblllmmgrmphmmmm!”
Rémi was in distress; Théo had withdrawn, but his goon took over. This time, a ring of lips surrounded his foreskin and a mouth sucked and pumped him. Feeling he was lost, Rémi surrendered, hoping to get a first-rate orgasm.
The cruel mouth pulled off just as he’d made his decision, as if it could read his mind. Rémi would get no relief. His first thought wasn’t about how it saved him from further punishment.
“MMMMmmmmm!”
“He didn’t cream, but the spot is much bigger than what is usually allowed.”
He did protest this time. It was so unfair! He’d fought and managed to resist his predicament only to lose because of their treacherous sucking! And they wouldn’t take him all the way? He begged for release but was predictably ignored.
His captors moved on to the next stage. Théo and Marc adopted the usual focus and attention mode that was the norm when moving a captive from one position to his next bondage. They looked at each other and made signs, which they tried to keep unseen from their charge.
Practice paid and it meant that they were also quite fast. The usual cuffs and chains appeared, so Rémi could be hobbled before being totally untied.
They removed the ropes in sequence, coiling them up cautiously and setting them on the large board.
Rémi ended up standing two feet in front of the pole, with cuffs at his ankles and wrists, hands behind his back. He still had his lower face covered by the sticky Elastoplast trapping the three pairs of underwear in his gob. His shorts and underwear had been removed; he wore only boots and gloves.
Thankfully, it was still quite warm in the attic even though the sun had set a couple of hours ago.
“Do you need to pee?” Théo asked his charge.
“Or poo?” Marc asked. Handling prisoners’ intimate functions was a highlight for Marc, as it was for Thomas. Rémi had been in both boys’ hands at times, which had meant getting an enema and possibly getting his bum stuffed with dildos or plugs of various makes.
Rémi wasn’t disappointed. Théo let his friend volunteer to give Rémi his bathroom break. Marc laid a hand on Rémi’s shoulder and directed him outside the attic. There was a small bathroom on the landing, with a toilet and a sink. This was enough for his minder to administer the full cleansing treatment. He was allowed to excrete naturally, which gave good results and got Marc to cheer him up. The enema wasn’t very big, and Marc used mild water with just a bit of salt. He did repeat the operation “to make sure.”
Marc dried the butt crack, making sure it was perfectly clean in the process. He didn’t stop commenting his work to the recipient of his ministrations.
“You’ve got a clean back side. That’s nice, I can stuff it without having a mess.”
Rémi felt his butt hole being greased, and a small hand lodged a plug up his arse. It felt like the thinnest one. The young minder wasn’t done with the fleshy behind. He wiped the crack from any remaining grease and Rémi then felt greasier stuff spread on his bum.
“It’s soothing cream. It will get your bum to lose its pinkish colour overnight.”
Rémi enjoyed the comforting caresses for almost five full minutes. Once the cream had penetrated properly and the skin was dry, Marc went to the sink and washed his hands.
“Since you soiled your underwear, we’ll have to get you some clean ones. We can’t leave you naked like this,” Marc stated. “Let’s get back and see with Théo what we should have you wear.”
They entered the attic. Théo was lying on the couch, wiping his dick after having honoured yet another silk scarf, which he neatly folded and put aside as he got back in a sitting position and leisurely set his three-piece suit inside the more proper confine of his shorts. He didn’t seem fazed by the newcomers ogling him.
“Thanks for getting him all clean and ready for more fun,” Théo said as he looked at Marc and his charge. “We can’t have his dong wave and bobble like this, though.”
“I told him we’d decide what he wears next.”
“Forest green silk undies and latex shorts?”
“Great combo. I’ll get them.”
The pair crouched in front of their prisoner, laughing at his priapic condition.
“It’s not boys we’re handling, it’s boners on legs!”
Rémi was getting used to these tailor-made garments. The thin, smooth silk slid up his legs and wrapped his crotch closely. There was space in front, which seemed a feature of the clothing Hervé got for them.
The latex shorts that followed were cut similarly. Rémi’s bottom was tightly enclosed in gleaming rubber once the pair of shorts had been fully adjusted. The plug up his bum couldn’t be ignored once he was enclosed in fabric from his waist to the top of his thighs. A little pat on his bum from Théo let him know the dressing-up was complete. The kinky teen could move on to his next plan.
“There is something we haven’t done in a long time, Rémi. What about having us sit on you?”
“The bench is perfect for this!”
“Mrrmmmph?”
Rémi had spent time spread-eagled in the grass over the summer. He wasn’t alone, of course, and the four of them had been thus bound to make a nice figure.
Aurélien and Cédric had hammered in four stakes like the corners of a square. The four boys had their feet almost touching, kept apart and linked to two stakes each.
Once the four boys had been laid with their ankles cuffed to the stakes, their captors had taken care of them one by one, freeing their hands from behind their backs to pin them to the ground the same way their feet were, with stakes planted solidly and deeply into the ground.
Then their captors had come to sit on them, tickling them, sitting on their chests and gloating, as the four teenage pupils were of course all thoroughly gagged.
Over the afternoon the young masters had grown bolder and graduated to nose or ear flicking, hair pulling or even face-sitting.
To Rémi’s great shame, he’d longed for feeling the bum and thighs of other boys pinning him down with just their weight. Usually, a strict tie-up ensued. This was how it had gone time the first time he was abducted by Hervé and his goons.
TBC
-
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Here is the final chapter in this episode of the Sweaty Tie-Up saga.
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 7 – Tucked in for the Night
Rémi wondered if they knew about his taste.
They got busy around him with leather straps. He soon found himself in a chest harness to start with. It was longer than the one they’d used before. It featured rings to keep his arms pinned to his sides, holding them to the contraption at the top of his arms, above and below his elbows and around his wrists.
“Our young friend will have more trouble waving his arms around now.”
“He still can move his fingers,” Théo sighed.
“Can he?” Marc smiled. He picked up another item from the table. Mittens. Or that’s what they looked like, except that they featured fingers inside, leather tubes sewn together. Once his hands were in the leather trap, which was fastened over his wrists, Rémi lost any hope to use his digits.
“We’re really making sure you won’t get into trouble! Now, time to rest,” Marc cheered him up.
They got him near the bench before they next took care of his legs. They had a new set of straps; most were all sewn together to make two loops, except for a wide, long one at one end.
As his minders put it on, Rémi found out the contraption’s purpose. It worked as a belt that wrapped around his waist tightly, and two long strips ran down the sides of his legs to keep the thing together. There were double leather rings encircling his legs at the top of his thighs, at mid thighs, above his knees and below, and around his wrists to end. The pairs of cuffs were buckled one by one, and both attendants started over, not satisfied with what they deemed to be inadmissible slack.
It was only the one above the knees they managed to pull one notch tighter. Rémi was trapped into this simple strap prison. His legs were made one together, and his arms were now solidly welded to his sides.
“Now you’re harnessed, you may lie down and rest.”
Théo and Marc lowered their captive on the bench, setting him so they could easily use the fixtures meant to keep the constrained captive pinned down. It was another custom-made piece of furniture, likely obtained through Hervé’s connections, who’d provided them with clothing and accessories over the last few months. There were small hooks jutting out of the edges. They didn’t show much; they were the same colour as the bench’s padding. It felt like a layer of foam with some black vinyl cover.
They had their charge lie down and adjusted his position to align the D-rings of the body harness with the bench’s hooks. They padlocked his legs at ankles, knees, and upper crotch level. Théo picked a head rest from the wide table. Marc raised Rémi’s head so his friend could slide the addition and fix it to the bench.
Rémi saw straps dangling from the corner of his eye. His keepers didn’t use them straight away.
“We’ll check you’ve been sucking on our undies and the cum rag as we asked. We’ll give you something to eat too. Then there’s another gag for you, don’t worry.”
‘Rrrrrriiip!”
“Rmmmhph..”
The piece of Elastoplast was pulled off briskly; it stung.
“I’ll go get dinner so our prisoner doesn’t starve.”
“I’ll watch him,” Marc replied.
He straddled the lying shape and sat on the captive’s chest. He lowered his behind cautiously. The warm bottom wrapped in Lycra felt good. Rémi met his captor’s eyes.
“We’ll wait for Théo to pull the wadding out,” he explained, putting the palm of his hands over Rémi’s mouth, more as a tactile aid to be understood than as a forceful silencing method. He caressed the boy’s cheeks. Marc really enjoyed touching other boys.
“You’re a fun toy to play with, Rémi. I’m glad I can give you private lessons in the future. What about being babysat by me only?”
The younger boy went on explaining how he could have more training and lessons rather than punishments if he behaved properly. Rémi approved with soft, one-sound moans or nods. His captor moved forward a bit, which meant his crotch was within Rémi’s nose range. It smelled like the loins of a horny, active teenage boy.
Rémi was pondering whether to lift his head to kiss the dick that tented the tight tracksuit trousers when Théo was soon back with a tray, ending this moment of intimacy.
“Bread and water, we’re treating you!”
Rémi had had his mouth filled for almost four hours now, so he was getting a bit hungry.
“Let’s check he did our laundry well,” Marc winked at his friend.
There was a foot or so of bench above Rémi’s head; it’s where Théo came to sit, facing his friend, their knees touching and his shorted dick brushing against Rémi’s hair. Rémi saw his face as the boy leaned over him; he looked weird with his face upside down.
The two allies framed him closely; Marc lifted his hand and Théo reached for the prisoner’s mouth. Rémi opened his jaws and the slender fingers retrieved Marc’s underwear first. He held its sides and pulled it up, to see through it against the light-coloured ceiling.
“Looks like just saliva. Let’s see the rest.”
Marc picked Théo’s underwear, letting his longer-haired friend collect the final item, the navy-blue silk satin handkerchief. Rémi saw the wet clothing and didn’t mind his watchers considering them clean.
The watering and feeding was performed efficiently, with the permanent handgag that had become customary. He chewed slowly and lengthily as he was supposed to.
With their charge’s thirst and hunger dealt with, Théo brought the gag he was to wear. It was a plug mounted on a wide leather strap. Thanks to the outfitters that produced these wares, the plug was shaped to Rémi’s mouth; the silicone add-on also had thin flaps to cover his lips.
Théo fastened the strap tight and buckled it over Rémi’s nape. The lining on his teeth prevented the discomfort that arose after a few minutes when a gag pulled his lips tight against the irregular surface of his teeth. It felt nice; it also meant he’d probably keep it on for a while.
Théo got up and joined his friend. Straddling the bench, he sat behind Marc, his bum coming to rest slowly over the lying prisoner’s belly. He stuck to his friend and moved forward to get closer. The feel of the shorts gliding over his naked skin got him aroused again. He saw two cute faces, with Marc leaning aside to give his friend a view of the captive’s face, and Théo looking over his shoulder.
His long-haired captor was sharing his feelings. He pushed against Marc; Rémi had some tactile clues that Théo’s shorts sheltered another member in turmoil. He could feel him rubbing it against Marc’s silky shorts; or was it against Rémi’s skin? In any case, arousal translated in an inflated pouch.
Both boys watched their charge smiling; Théo shifted from one side to the other, looking above Marc’s right or left shoulder.
“We found a comfortable seat, Marc. It’s soft.”
“And warm. This is life indeed.”
Marc caressed Rémi’s face, though he ended his display of affection with a nose flicking, using his index finger that had learned this trick through countless hours of playing marbles.
Rémi reacted, moving the only body part he could as strongly as possible.
“Uh oh, he can shake his head; he’s going to get into more trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Théo, I’m here to help.”
There were straps coming from the headrest; Marc set one of them on Rémi’s forehead, the other on his lower face.
“No fooling around,” he commented as he tightened the buckle, pinning the captive’s lower face to the bench.
The young, black-haired tormentor could resume his nose-flicking training, eliciting some muffled grunts and encouragements from his peer.
“Nice one! Pull his hair to see if he makes more noise.”
The attempt did cause a reaction, but it was tough to assess if it was louder.
Rémi surprisingly enjoyed himself. The two bottoms on his torso felt great. And he could witness how the two fiends liked each other. Théo’s boner subsided; it might even have grown. He pushed forward slowly, until Marc’s groin got in touch with the leather-covered chin of their victim.
Rémi couldn’t figure out whether Théo was rubbing his hard-on against his friend’s bum or pushing him so his genitals would get closer to Rémi’s nose. Whatever the case, the black Speedos Marc wore did exhale their suave smell, plunging the helpless victim into new depths of desire.
Théo grabbed his friend under the armpits, lifting him to get him to the end of the bench.
“Time to trade places.”
Rémi felt the shorted bum brushing against his face. This was great. He sighed.
Marc stood up and let his friend get his crotch closer to Rémi’s face. The pupil picked up the difference of aromas; the lessons were sinking in.
Their little game went on for a while; the two accomplices didn’t seem to get tired or bored.
They didn’t completely sit on Rémi’s face, out of safety concern; yet they caressed Rémi’s nose with their shorts at regular intervals.
“Now here’s my bum,” Théo said. “That’s yet another smell you should get to know well.”
This caused strange reactions from the lying captive. It was gross according to what he’d been told and taught. He still found some pleasure in seeing the shorted bottoms from up close and feeling the soft touch of the flesh kept within the confines of the smooth and shiny shorts.
It smelled like butt; the two little captors had to be hygiene conscious, because it smelled like clean butts. Rémi had a few months of close and personal contact with the gang of young bullies who’d forced his group of friends to follow their rules.
Rémi’s relative liking of what was being done to him over his upper torso and head translated into some growing of the rubber front pouch of his shorts. Alas, his abductors had lost interest in this part of his anatomy.
They didn’t bother much about Rémi’s pleasure; they took care of their own, though.
They took turns sitting on his chest. His head was freed from the straps temporarily. Théo set the damp hankie that Rémi had ‘cleaned up’ on the strap, to protect the leather. This seemed a plausible explanation, and Rémi was the close witness to the effects of masturbation over the size and shape of nubile genitals. The piece of wet satin over the gagged lower face was used to collect the two streams of jizz Marc and Théo let out.
This made for yet another odour to identify; it didn’t smell very different from one boy to the other. The pungent smell caused more turmoil within the confines of the silk and rubber wrapping encasing Rémi’s cock and balls.
The two boys needed some rest after their effort; they took a break sitting on their guest. Marc’s buttocks were on his chest and Théo’s on his thighs. They stayed clear of the bulging member inflating the shiny shorts’ front. Rémi couldn’t see the tented rubber garment; he felt like it created a major bump.
Marc, turning to his friend, said, “It’s really fun having Rémi for a sleepover.”
“Too bad he misbehaved and we had to punish him. From what I see, we didn’t manage to calm him down. He’s still having a major boner.”
Marc turned back and winked at Rémi.
“It seems you really like us!”
“We’re all good friends, aren’t we,” Théo said, a genuine smile in his voice. “We’re even going to stay here and sleep with you; I’ll get the sleeping bags.”
Marc moved the handkerchief he’d honoured so a wet spot would be over Rémi’s nostrils. The training wasn’t over.
Théo was back soon and unrolled the sleeping bags.
“I have three, there’s one for you Rémi,” he informed the immobilized pupil. “We’re nice, we don’t want you to get cold.”
The two boys prepared their space for the night. They covered their prisoner with a warm layer of eiderdown.
Rémi moaned, begging for a handjob, but he couldn’t get his message across.
“You’re welcome, Rémi. Hervé always says that we should treat our prisoners well.”
“The Geneva Convention!” his friend added.
There was more banter as the lads prepared for the night. They removed the straps keeping the captive’s head so utterly motionless. At least, he could watch his surroundings; he hadn’t gotten bored of watching the two cuties.
Rémi had Marc lying on his right, Théo on his left. The light was soon out.
“Have a good night, Rem, you’ll need to be rested tomorrow. We still have much to teach you.”
The “mmmmbbllm” was a sincere answer.
The two friends went on talking together, much more like normal kids. Their chatting soon blended into indistinct sounds that faded away. Not even bothering about what the other day would bring, Rémi slowly drifted into slumber.
End of the episode
Sweaty Tie-Up: Rémi’s Weekend
Chapter 7 – Tucked in for the Night
Rémi wondered if they knew about his taste.
They got busy around him with leather straps. He soon found himself in a chest harness to start with. It was longer than the one they’d used before. It featured rings to keep his arms pinned to his sides, holding them to the contraption at the top of his arms, above and below his elbows and around his wrists.
“Our young friend will have more trouble waving his arms around now.”
“He still can move his fingers,” Théo sighed.
“Can he?” Marc smiled. He picked up another item from the table. Mittens. Or that’s what they looked like, except that they featured fingers inside, leather tubes sewn together. Once his hands were in the leather trap, which was fastened over his wrists, Rémi lost any hope to use his digits.
“We’re really making sure you won’t get into trouble! Now, time to rest,” Marc cheered him up.
They got him near the bench before they next took care of his legs. They had a new set of straps; most were all sewn together to make two loops, except for a wide, long one at one end.
As his minders put it on, Rémi found out the contraption’s purpose. It worked as a belt that wrapped around his waist tightly, and two long strips ran down the sides of his legs to keep the thing together. There were double leather rings encircling his legs at the top of his thighs, at mid thighs, above his knees and below, and around his wrists to end. The pairs of cuffs were buckled one by one, and both attendants started over, not satisfied with what they deemed to be inadmissible slack.
It was only the one above the knees they managed to pull one notch tighter. Rémi was trapped into this simple strap prison. His legs were made one together, and his arms were now solidly welded to his sides.
“Now you’re harnessed, you may lie down and rest.”
Théo and Marc lowered their captive on the bench, setting him so they could easily use the fixtures meant to keep the constrained captive pinned down. It was another custom-made piece of furniture, likely obtained through Hervé’s connections, who’d provided them with clothing and accessories over the last few months. There were small hooks jutting out of the edges. They didn’t show much; they were the same colour as the bench’s padding. It felt like a layer of foam with some black vinyl cover.
They had their charge lie down and adjusted his position to align the D-rings of the body harness with the bench’s hooks. They padlocked his legs at ankles, knees, and upper crotch level. Théo picked a head rest from the wide table. Marc raised Rémi’s head so his friend could slide the addition and fix it to the bench.
Rémi saw straps dangling from the corner of his eye. His keepers didn’t use them straight away.
“We’ll check you’ve been sucking on our undies and the cum rag as we asked. We’ll give you something to eat too. Then there’s another gag for you, don’t worry.”
‘Rrrrrriiip!”
“Rmmmhph..”
The piece of Elastoplast was pulled off briskly; it stung.
“I’ll go get dinner so our prisoner doesn’t starve.”
“I’ll watch him,” Marc replied.
He straddled the lying shape and sat on the captive’s chest. He lowered his behind cautiously. The warm bottom wrapped in Lycra felt good. Rémi met his captor’s eyes.
“We’ll wait for Théo to pull the wadding out,” he explained, putting the palm of his hands over Rémi’s mouth, more as a tactile aid to be understood than as a forceful silencing method. He caressed the boy’s cheeks. Marc really enjoyed touching other boys.
“You’re a fun toy to play with, Rémi. I’m glad I can give you private lessons in the future. What about being babysat by me only?”
The younger boy went on explaining how he could have more training and lessons rather than punishments if he behaved properly. Rémi approved with soft, one-sound moans or nods. His captor moved forward a bit, which meant his crotch was within Rémi’s nose range. It smelled like the loins of a horny, active teenage boy.
Rémi was pondering whether to lift his head to kiss the dick that tented the tight tracksuit trousers when Théo was soon back with a tray, ending this moment of intimacy.
“Bread and water, we’re treating you!”
Rémi had had his mouth filled for almost four hours now, so he was getting a bit hungry.
“Let’s check he did our laundry well,” Marc winked at his friend.
There was a foot or so of bench above Rémi’s head; it’s where Théo came to sit, facing his friend, their knees touching and his shorted dick brushing against Rémi’s hair. Rémi saw his face as the boy leaned over him; he looked weird with his face upside down.
The two allies framed him closely; Marc lifted his hand and Théo reached for the prisoner’s mouth. Rémi opened his jaws and the slender fingers retrieved Marc’s underwear first. He held its sides and pulled it up, to see through it against the light-coloured ceiling.
“Looks like just saliva. Let’s see the rest.”
Marc picked Théo’s underwear, letting his longer-haired friend collect the final item, the navy-blue silk satin handkerchief. Rémi saw the wet clothing and didn’t mind his watchers considering them clean.
The watering and feeding was performed efficiently, with the permanent handgag that had become customary. He chewed slowly and lengthily as he was supposed to.
With their charge’s thirst and hunger dealt with, Théo brought the gag he was to wear. It was a plug mounted on a wide leather strap. Thanks to the outfitters that produced these wares, the plug was shaped to Rémi’s mouth; the silicone add-on also had thin flaps to cover his lips.
Théo fastened the strap tight and buckled it over Rémi’s nape. The lining on his teeth prevented the discomfort that arose after a few minutes when a gag pulled his lips tight against the irregular surface of his teeth. It felt nice; it also meant he’d probably keep it on for a while.
Théo got up and joined his friend. Straddling the bench, he sat behind Marc, his bum coming to rest slowly over the lying prisoner’s belly. He stuck to his friend and moved forward to get closer. The feel of the shorts gliding over his naked skin got him aroused again. He saw two cute faces, with Marc leaning aside to give his friend a view of the captive’s face, and Théo looking over his shoulder.
His long-haired captor was sharing his feelings. He pushed against Marc; Rémi had some tactile clues that Théo’s shorts sheltered another member in turmoil. He could feel him rubbing it against Marc’s silky shorts; or was it against Rémi’s skin? In any case, arousal translated in an inflated pouch.
Both boys watched their charge smiling; Théo shifted from one side to the other, looking above Marc’s right or left shoulder.
“We found a comfortable seat, Marc. It’s soft.”
“And warm. This is life indeed.”
Marc caressed Rémi’s face, though he ended his display of affection with a nose flicking, using his index finger that had learned this trick through countless hours of playing marbles.
Rémi reacted, moving the only body part he could as strongly as possible.
“Uh oh, he can shake his head; he’s going to get into more trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Théo, I’m here to help.”
There were straps coming from the headrest; Marc set one of them on Rémi’s forehead, the other on his lower face.
“No fooling around,” he commented as he tightened the buckle, pinning the captive’s lower face to the bench.
The young, black-haired tormentor could resume his nose-flicking training, eliciting some muffled grunts and encouragements from his peer.
“Nice one! Pull his hair to see if he makes more noise.”
The attempt did cause a reaction, but it was tough to assess if it was louder.
Rémi surprisingly enjoyed himself. The two bottoms on his torso felt great. And he could witness how the two fiends liked each other. Théo’s boner subsided; it might even have grown. He pushed forward slowly, until Marc’s groin got in touch with the leather-covered chin of their victim.
Rémi couldn’t figure out whether Théo was rubbing his hard-on against his friend’s bum or pushing him so his genitals would get closer to Rémi’s nose. Whatever the case, the black Speedos Marc wore did exhale their suave smell, plunging the helpless victim into new depths of desire.
Théo grabbed his friend under the armpits, lifting him to get him to the end of the bench.
“Time to trade places.”
Rémi felt the shorted bum brushing against his face. This was great. He sighed.
Marc stood up and let his friend get his crotch closer to Rémi’s face. The pupil picked up the difference of aromas; the lessons were sinking in.
Their little game went on for a while; the two accomplices didn’t seem to get tired or bored.
They didn’t completely sit on Rémi’s face, out of safety concern; yet they caressed Rémi’s nose with their shorts at regular intervals.
“Now here’s my bum,” Théo said. “That’s yet another smell you should get to know well.”
This caused strange reactions from the lying captive. It was gross according to what he’d been told and taught. He still found some pleasure in seeing the shorted bottoms from up close and feeling the soft touch of the flesh kept within the confines of the smooth and shiny shorts.
It smelled like butt; the two little captors had to be hygiene conscious, because it smelled like clean butts. Rémi had a few months of close and personal contact with the gang of young bullies who’d forced his group of friends to follow their rules.
Rémi’s relative liking of what was being done to him over his upper torso and head translated into some growing of the rubber front pouch of his shorts. Alas, his abductors had lost interest in this part of his anatomy.
They didn’t bother much about Rémi’s pleasure; they took care of their own, though.
They took turns sitting on his chest. His head was freed from the straps temporarily. Théo set the damp hankie that Rémi had ‘cleaned up’ on the strap, to protect the leather. This seemed a plausible explanation, and Rémi was the close witness to the effects of masturbation over the size and shape of nubile genitals. The piece of wet satin over the gagged lower face was used to collect the two streams of jizz Marc and Théo let out.
This made for yet another odour to identify; it didn’t smell very different from one boy to the other. The pungent smell caused more turmoil within the confines of the silk and rubber wrapping encasing Rémi’s cock and balls.
The two boys needed some rest after their effort; they took a break sitting on their guest. Marc’s buttocks were on his chest and Théo’s on his thighs. They stayed clear of the bulging member inflating the shiny shorts’ front. Rémi couldn’t see the tented rubber garment; he felt like it created a major bump.
Marc, turning to his friend, said, “It’s really fun having Rémi for a sleepover.”
“Too bad he misbehaved and we had to punish him. From what I see, we didn’t manage to calm him down. He’s still having a major boner.”
Marc turned back and winked at Rémi.
“It seems you really like us!”
“We’re all good friends, aren’t we,” Théo said, a genuine smile in his voice. “We’re even going to stay here and sleep with you; I’ll get the sleeping bags.”
Marc moved the handkerchief he’d honoured so a wet spot would be over Rémi’s nostrils. The training wasn’t over.
Théo was back soon and unrolled the sleeping bags.
“I have three, there’s one for you Rémi,” he informed the immobilized pupil. “We’re nice, we don’t want you to get cold.”
The two boys prepared their space for the night. They covered their prisoner with a warm layer of eiderdown.
Rémi moaned, begging for a handjob, but he couldn’t get his message across.
“You’re welcome, Rémi. Hervé always says that we should treat our prisoners well.”
“The Geneva Convention!” his friend added.
There was more banter as the lads prepared for the night. They removed the straps keeping the captive’s head so utterly motionless. At least, he could watch his surroundings; he hadn’t gotten bored of watching the two cuties.
Rémi had Marc lying on his right, Théo on his left. The light was soon out.
“Have a good night, Rem, you’ll need to be rested tomorrow. We still have much to teach you.”
The “mmmmbbllm” was a sincere answer.
The two friends went on talking together, much more like normal kids. Their chatting soon blended into indistinct sounds that faded away. Not even bothering about what the other day would bring, Rémi slowly drifted into slumber.
End of the episode
Is there gonna be another episode? I love when the boys were playing tie up games and ambushing each other ![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
The Brotherhood
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid
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Hey @chloroboy! There will be further episodes. I'm not sure they're going to get back to more 'traditional' tugs; this saga moved on to smutty from the beginning, but yes, there were a few episodes in the Football club story or the Revenge episode that were 'tuggier'. I need to start taking paid commissions, it seems there's an opportunity. ![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
Then maybe continue the boarding school story? I indeed do miss the "traditional" tugs storiesBondwriter wrote: ↑4 years ago Hey @chloroboy! There will be further episodes. I'm not sure they're going to get back to more 'traditional' tugs; this saga moved on to smutty from the beginning, but yes, there were a few episodes in the Football club story or the Revenge episode that were 'tuggier'. I need to start taking paid commissions, it seems there's an opportunity.![]()
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
The Brotherhood
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
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The sequel to Rémi's weekend is being written at the moment.
As for the 'traditional' tugs stories, they are slightly more difficult to write than the smutty ones. I definitely need to get some crowd-funding for these. It's still on the agenda to finish Quite a Boarding School, by the way.
As for the 'traditional' tugs stories, they are slightly more difficult to write than the smutty ones. I definitely need to get some crowd-funding for these. It's still on the agenda to finish Quite a Boarding School, by the way.
where can we crowd-fund you?
The Brotherhood
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid
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- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
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@chloroboy This is a good question, and I'll have to search and check the best solution(s) to help spread the expenses. In the meanwhile, the new STU story is in the works...
Can we commission you to write such story? ![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
![Wink ;)](./images/smilies/icon_e_wink.gif)
The Brotherhood
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
The best human pilot in the galaxy
My Bondage Academia
If you want to support me and allow me to commission more illustration and write more story, you can donate to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/carnath_gid