New Adventures of Simon (m/m) News on April 16th

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Post by Bondwriter »

There should be some pages of interest to you in the coming story, WAMguy.
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Post by WAMGuy »

Awesome! Looking forward to it even more now!
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Post by kankuro10 »

omg. Omg. OMG! YEAAAHHH! I love those news!

New villains? Some are the ontinuation of the Brothers story? Wilhelm? OMG! I'm so exciting! Thanks for the news, Bondwriter. And thanks again for showing new adventures of Simon.


I'm also looking forward to reading more of Simon adventures.

And just like snowylocks said, I really like how you write the line between Simon liking those situations (little by little), and his heroic resistance in your stories (Especially, Simon's thoughts are well written).
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Post by Bondwriter »

Thanks a lot, Kankuro. Your support has always been quite motivating.
I'll post the first chapter tomorrow. I'd like to give it another proofread before making it available to readers.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Here is the interlude in Simon's adventures. It is six chapters long; here is number one.

The Clothing Enthusiast

An adventure of Simon

Chapter 1


Simon stood against the pole. The ropes prevented him from moving much, though he’d get rid of them in a jiffy. He waited stoically, though. Patience was much needed in his current modelling activity.

Usually, when he was tied up in ropes, either he was performing his act or he could have fallen in the claws of some malevolent member of the audience, such as Wilhelm a few years back. Yet Simon had been hired to model clothes for a wealthy enthusiast, with a very decent fee to reward his performance.

This particular fan had come to watch the show a couple times now they were in the North West. On his second visit, he’d worked his way backstage to meet the ginger performer. He’d praised Simon for his skills, and asked about the adventures he’d read about in the press.

This was a short conversation, but long enough for the handsome admirer to make a good impression on the young performer.

Simon had received a parcel from his patron; it contained a fancy wrestling costume, made of the shiniest silk. There was a note from Jerome Bolton, the rich amateur, who inquired to know whether Simon would model clothing, and possibly enact some of his numbers for a paid photo-shoot.

Stilo and the circus manager checked out the man was who he said he was; there had been enough adventures when performing for private parties. The man happened to be a renowned fashion photograph, so they gave the green light to the extra gig.

Simon had grown more and more aware of the share of his audience that his modest clothing and athletic shape attracted. Over the last year or so, the young performer had noticed the men holding their breath when he entered the stage for the escape from the cage number. It was modelled on the Houdini tank escape number, though without the water. However, Simon was hung by his ankles upside down.

To make up for the perilous drowning element, Simon had to go fast. There was a skit to start the act, with Simon coming upon burglars robbing a bank; the thieves used the conveniently located device to restrain the boy-detective, whose clothes they ripped as they put him in fetters.

As years went by, Simon expected some gasps or sighs from men in the front row when his blue silk underwear appeared. With age, he’d started understanding that there was a special lure to a specific audience; he himself felt very specific emotions at some moments in his tie-up situations.

He was secretly growing fond of this peculiar look that was cast upon him. And so far, his visit at Jerome Bolton’s had been nothing but pleasant.

They had a one-week hiatus before the tour resumed down the West Coast. They would start in the state of Washington and head south from there. Jerome Bolton had planned so Simon could stay for three days without having to travel too much. Simon was sent a chauffeur again, but the drive wasn’t too long. Jerome Bolton had rented a large mansion less than half an hour away from their final stop, and soon the young artist beheld the huge building inside the large walled estate. It was an old British style manor, with lots of trees and green surrounding it.

The chauffeur stopped in front of the main entrance; a man was coming down the steps of the small staircase. Simon thanked the chauffeur for the ride and their pleasant conversation – escape artistry always got him questions from people he met wherever he went: he turned to his guest. He was a handsome man, with blond hair and smooth skin. His gaze was fascinating; he had deep green eyes that combined with a cute dimple as he smiled to the escape artist.

“Simon O’Malley, I presume?”

The man’s voice was clear but soft.

“I am, and so you must be Mr. Bolton.”

His host confirmed he was and led Simon up the stairs.

“We shouldn’t be disturbed for our photo-shoots, Simon, there are only two butlers around and they should stay out of our hair.”

They entered a sitting room; there was a sofa and a couple armchairs. There were also racks and shelves with clothes.

“Let’s have a seat and talk about what I intend to shoot.”

Simon sat down on the plush armchair; his host was in his early thirties; he had an engaging smile, which didn’t seem to leave his face. He wore elegant, fashionable clothes. He was lean, so the large waistband of his grey flannel pants was high up around his belly; his double-breasted jacket enhanced his frail silhouette. Simon felt at ease with this elegant man; he enjoyed the way the man watched him and spoke to him straight away.

“I have a full line of clothes intended for young, well-off students. This could be an hour of two of work, but there are other clients of mine who made a request I couldn’t discuss with you in writing.”

Simon didn’t say a thing, but he displayed a very subtle frown.

“I got to know you through the snapshots a little group of amateurs– to which I belong– collected from your performances.”

Simon wasn’t shocked to hear that the pictures some audience members took of him very strictly bound and gagged, or wearing a tight blue satiny suit had been shared with other people. Simon was used to being a public figure by now. He leaned forward slightly, prompting Jerome to go on with the explanation of his plans.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Simon. I work with an outfitter that’s always on the lookout for photographs of their customers wearing their clothing and accessories. I’ve seen some of the portraits and photographs of your numbers the circus uses as promotional material. These shots impressed me greatly. Not only the predicaments you were in, but the poise and grace you kept throughout, however skimpy the garments you had to wear, or however harrowing the bondage they’d put you in was.”

Simon liked the praise he was getting. Jerome Bolton’s comments got Simon to remember the moments when he’d posed for the circus’s posters and newspaper photographs.

“There is a demand for more pictures with you as a model. I’m not the only one to have fallen under your spell, Simon. There are many gentlemen who’re willing to pay a very dear price to see more of you in their favored outfits.”

“And in more predicaments?” Simon smiled.

“If so is your wish. I have a studio where I have a few possible sets to have you play the role of the poor kidnap victim. But I had other ideas in mind…”

Jerome seemed reluctant to spill the beans; the silence felt awkward, Simon broke it quickly.

“Ideas for close-ups and shots of my bum or willy? Nude?”

“Maybe not nude; but with clothes and equipment quite out of the ordinary. Would you mind?”

“Not at all, I mean, with the fee I’m paid, I’m willing to adapt!”

Jerome seemed genuinely surprised; he smiled back.

“Don’t be silly, this modelling will be paid extra. It will take time and it might be a bit taxing.”

Simon didn’t ask for more details, and with this being agreed upon, Jerome seemed willing to move on.

It didn’t take ninety minutes from the moment when they decided to get done with the official business. Simon put on some flannel school uniform, which turned out to fit like a glove. There was a set next to the sitting-room where he’d dressed up, depicting a classroom with a desk and a blackboard, and other props to make it realistic.

Simon wore three different outfits, sometimes with the jacket on or off, sitting or standing, smiling under the electric sunlight drenching the set.

Jerome loved what he saw through his viewfinder. This young man was fit, grabbed the light like no one and he had followed instructions perfectly so far. This was a change from various models – male or female – whom he’d have to deal with over his short but fruitful career.

He shot four rolls worth of pictures, when he would need just two or three for the catalogue. But he didn’t rush his model into the next stage. There was plenty of time ahead to get exactly what his patrons wanted: the famous escape artist bound, gagged and wearing the most provocative of outfits. Jerome had been particularly titillated by the set of lingerie one of the men had ordered from their special outfitter, Brightwell & Comfort’s.

It would wrap Simon’s midsection fully, from his belly button to his groin. There was some exquisite work on the front pouch, which gave some room to a set of genitals while wrapping the wearer’s bottom closely. The waist was a wide satin belt that would thin his waist.

It would look lovely on his model, especially when combined with some of the harnesses and restraints tailor-made to Simon’s measurements the same outfitter had sent.

“You look great, Simon, I’m sure this style will become the rage in schools!”

Simon was glad to please. He was pleasantly surprised not to be bound and gagged right away. He liked the idea of adding jobs to his experience, and modelling officially was one more feather in his entertainer’s cap.

Jerome was getting in a hurry to get to the second set of pictures, the one using the boy’s specific skills. Jerome had dreamed for years of finding a young, handsome escape artist to play with. Booking Simon for a stay had motivated him in making the best of the amazing young man’s abilities.

“I’ve got all the shots that I need for this particular client. We’ll have to go to the attic for another photo-shoot. We can go down to the kitchen and have a quick lunch before we resume. You’re good, it makes it easy to work and it goes faster.”

Simon relished being praised for his professionalism. He never really knew how to react, but he enjoyed the compliments.

Simon put on a red silk pajama to accompany his host. They went downstairs in the large dining room. The table had been set and there was a wheel-table next to it with bowls and trays full of food.

They helped themselves, filling their plates before they settled. Simon sat opposite his guest; he could watch his handsome face, and see how eagerly the young man was watching him.

The red-haired escape artist wasn’t surprised in the least that the conversation quickly turned to the ropes and gags aspects of his job.

“You enjoy performing your escape artist tricks, but I’ve read that you actually ended up in some rather dire situations.”

Simon had refined his storytelling, and he really enjoyed telling of the time he’d performed for a mobster in Chicago, and how he’d ended up in the crossfire of a mobs war.

Jerome paid close attention to his guest, interrupting him only to get more details about the various tie-up situations he’s lived through. He was very impressed by Simon’s tale. When asked about being kidnapped by Wilhelm, he’d told him he’d always felt he would be free eventually. Though Wilhelm had acted unhinged, Simon doubted he’d hurt him. He did seem intent on keeping him his prisoner for a very long time, though.

This meant Simon had to apply his trade and get out of the disturbed teen’s claws. This had been a valuable lesson in patience and endurance. Jerome was quite impressed by his young guest’s fortitude.

Simon was both polite and curious; he asked his host about his work. Jerome worked for big companies and he was a reference for male clothing photos. He had the most handsome models in his portfolio, and their schedule was full for the next three months at least, with no end in sight for their flourishing business.

They ended the meal with a cup of coffee.

“Thanks for the meal, Jerome.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed it a lot. Should we get back to work?”

“Of course!” Simon replied, a wide grin over his face.

He followed Jerome, who climbed the large staircase at the back of the entrance hall. He didn’t stop on the landing, but continued up a narrower flight of stairs, which turned and ended on a large door.

TBC
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Post by kankuro10 »

OMG!! An incredible beginning of the new story.

I loved it. Really, it was very exciting. Once again, I really liked how you wrote Simon thoughts (in this chapter was a higher level in some topics, that I enjoyed). Wow. Simon's personality and phrases were very interesting. For example, when he broke the silence with ""“Ideas for close-ups and shots of my bum or willy? Nude?”, that was surprising and very exciting.

I am looking forward to reading what new thoughts, reactions, and especially, situations, the escape artist will have.
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Post by Veracity »

I can’t even express how excited I am to read a new Simon adventure.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Hey, Kankuro & Veracity! Glad you enjoy the new story. Here is another chapter.

The Clothing Enthusiast

Chapter 2


“This is my workshop for my more …uh… private business, I hope you like it.”

Jerome was a bit shy. He’d still already made it clear he wanted to photograph him bound and gagged. Simon didn’t reply, but smiled back and followed Jerome inside his ‘lair’.

Jerome switched lights on; they flooded the space opening before them. The attic was large. It had wardrobes, chests of drawers, dressing tables, benches, chairs, mirrors, but also a cage, a gibbet cage hanging from the rafters, a medieval rack and a torture chair.

“You’re not short on furniture,” Simon commented, with admiration in his voice.

“No, and I’ve got lots of accessories at hand,” he said pointing to the wardrobe, chests of drawers and chests, “And lots of very fine clothes that you might enjoy wearing. Should we start the first set with your official costume?”

Simon removed the kimono. Jerome handed him a pair of blue silk underwear; Simon turned to pull down his knickers and get the blue ones on. They fitted him perfectly.

Jerome showed Simon the camera; it was to the left side, pointing to the wall, where white sheet hung from rafters to give a bright background.

“You told me that you were paid well enough to do anything. I really wouldn’t want to have you regret it afterwards. We’re going to take some pictures that will be ogled by lecherous old men. You understand completely and you won’t mind.”

Simon had been performing for three years; he was at ease enough with his body being watched. He smiled frankly, delivering his consent gleefully.

“I’m fine with having you get me in provocative underwear and all bound and gagged with your fancy stuff. I’ll be glad to get prints of the pictures, by the way.”

Jerome felt reassured that his model was willing. This would be even more fun. He gave his model some instructions on how to pose and strut for the first set. He took a few pictures of Simon proudly posing in his shiny underwear, his crotch sticking out in a provocative way. His white teeth shone under the strong electric light.

“Let’s get to the serious part,” Jerome said, stepping away from the camera and going to a chest of drawers five steps away. He opened the top drawer and picked stuff from it. He turned, showing Simon the handcuffs he’d taken out.

“The photos will look much more dramatic if you’re bound and gagged. Turn around.”

Simon obeyed and offered his wrists to his host, crossed together over the small of his back.

The cold steel gripped his wrists as Jerome snapped the pair of manacles around them.

Jerome got more stuff from the drawer. A white piece of silk and a red ball gag were used as a foundation for the gag, the balled-up silk filling his mouth and the red ball gag compressing the mass of fabric and preventing the wearer to spit the silk out.

The young man approached slowly. He seemed a bit impressed. Simon wanted to put him at ease.

“Oh please, Mister, don’t gag me, I’ll be quiet!” Simon said in a dramatic tone.

His antagonist got the message, understanding the game the young ginger was playing. He made it clear he wasn’t afraid of being gagged. After all, he had had his mouth filled so many times… His wink comforted Jerome, who replied in kind.

“Do you think you can fool me this easily? I’ll keep you gagged so you can’t call out for help. Don’t make it difficult or else…”

He opened his gob wide, tacitly inviting the photographer to stuff the handkerchief in.

Jerome did just this. He couldn’t help but make a show of it, and act as a villain.

“Let’s silence you properly, you could start making a fuss and call out George or Howard to your rescue.”

He then strapped the ball gag in, pulling over the leather strips tightly and buckling it tight over Simon’s neck.

“Now, lad, I think I’m going to be able to have you wear some costumes that I hope you enjoy as much as I do. Not like you’re going to be able to complain or recriminate much.”

So far, it was all in good cheer. What did the man have in store for Simon? Simon felt quite aroused by the general atmosphere of this playroom he’d been brought to. What kind of games did this man usually play there ?

His host didn’t leave him much time to ponder.

“I’ll then get pictures of you in various settings,” he said, pointing to the various restraint devices, “So let’s first get you in some proper predicaments while wearing your blue underwear, you’ll get an idea of my expectations. Then we’ll redo it with you wearing some fancier costume.”

Simon nodded. Jerome was pleasant; being under his control felt reassuring.

The young man displayed his skills by demonstrating his overall control moving Simon from one contraption to the next. They started with the chair. This was a heavy, sturdy piece of furniture, and it featured straps and fixtures to restrain the sitting captive thoroughly. It didn’t take long for Jerome to secure Simon. He moved his tripod and took a few photographs. The attic was brightly lit and the subject quite immobile, so Jerome could use long exposure times.

He had his eye in his viewfinder, praising the model for his looks and commenting on the way his underwear glimmered in the adequate lights. He snapped a few shots from various angles before he’d move on to the next pose.

“Let’s move on to the gibbet cage. This one is a work of art. It can be adjusted to fit various sizes; it has been set to your measures…”

Simon stood in front of the restraining device. Stainless steel strips welded together made for a body-fitting cage.

“To get the full benefit of the cage, you need your forearms together, with your elbows touching. I may use this nice toy with very flexible young men only. I know you’re one... I’ll fasten them now,” he said, using two straps sewn together in their middle; this elbow cuff tightened slowly; the young escape artist felt his chest puffing up, but he could bear the tension. Jerome asked his model whether it was too much; the escape artist shook his head every time the photographer asked the question.

Jerome then cuffed the wrists with similar leather manacles. He then went to turn a crank in the wall; chains and pulleys hidden in the ceiling clicked above their heads and got the gibbet cage to go down. It touched the floor. Jerome opened the cage, which split in two around a hinge located in front.

Jerome helped Simon enter through the back. Then he slowly closed the cage, which had a slot at the back to fit the united pair of arms. This design was tough to escape. Whereas there were a number of restraining techniques that Simon could vanquish easily, like ropes, some shackles or chains were unbeatable without keys.

Thankfully, there was no need to struggle to find an escape; Simon just waited until Jerome was done taking pictures.

The gibbet cage got unlocked and Simon stepped out.

“I know people who enjoy my photographs like having the captive bound to a pole. There are beams over there that would be perfect for this endeavor,” he said, pointing to thick beams that were part of the timer frame.

Simon followed his host. The young man gave him a demonstration of his skills with ropes and knots. He wrapped the escape artists in a tight and symmetrical network of ropes, which welded him to the wooden beam. Simon stayed still until his customer was done taking shots of him.

“Smile!” Jerome joked, only to admonish Simon to “Stand straight!” a couple minutes later. Simon heard the shutter click a few more times before Jerome thought it was time to move on.

The picture artist removed the ropes one by one, wrapping them into neat coils and making a pile he would use again.

Simon then got to try out the rack. With shackles around his wrists and ankles, the device welcomed him for a spread-eagle. Jerome had him twist around to test the solidity of the restraints.

The photo-shoot was a bit longer; Jerome tried out various angles. It felt like his blue briefs were the real focus of the photographer.

“Lift your hips a bit… Right… Tuck your tummy in…”

Simon complied.

“You’ve got a thin waist and a flat tummy, this will please the audience. Plus, you’re rather well-endowed,” he said, pointing to Simon’s bulge.

Simon had grown much over the last couple of years; he looked down and saw that the briefs tended to enhance the size of his penis. Plus, feeling comfortable with Jerome, the shackled escape artists hadn’t fought the growing boner that Jerome was now immortalizing. This was why he now wore some jock strap and different costumes. He no longer was a little boy and couldn’t be seen in a state of undress.

His secret fans were certainly quite interested in bulging briefs.

“We’re doing great, Simon we’re slightly ahead on schedule. Let’s move on to the next step.”

Jerome removed his gag and released Simon from the rack.

“Go get changed,” Jerome said pointing to a windscreen, “I’ve put your next outfit on the pedestal table.”

Simon got some privacy to remove his blue underwear, which he folded and set over a small three-legged table from which he took the clothes his client had prepared.

A large cheval mirror stood a couple feet away, so the model could watch how he looked.

The next piece of underwear featured more cloth than the small pair he’d just removed. They looked like knickers. They were cut in dark grey silk.

It felt great as they slid up his legs. The garment went high around his waist, just under his belly button. He’d seen weight lifters wear undies cut like this. Simon put the little sleeveless jacket matching the underwear and looked at his reflection.

“Looking good,” he thought, re arranging his three-piece suit so it would look symmetrical. He could show his new look to his client.

“This looks amazing,” Jerome cheered as Simon reappeared, “Come over here, I’ll help you fastening the belt.”

Simon wondered about this; he’d seen no belt. When Jerome’s fingers reached his stomach and pulled over laces, he realized that there was a strip of silk running under the waistband. The photographer’s fingers pulled the hidden belt, which tightened the redhead’s waist little by little.

Jerome stood up.

“Spin a couple times that I’m sure it fits.”

Simon did as asked.

“It really enhances your backside,” Jerome commented casually, “Just one more thing and you may go sit on the chair.”

Jerome adjusted the vest so it would fall perfectly over the yummy body he was dressing up.

Simon sat over the large chair; he strapped his ankles and knees himself, while Jerome was setting up the camera.

“Are you in a hurry to be done, Simon?”

“Not at all, I’m just trying to help,” Simon replied.

Jerome smiled, charmed by the polite escape artist. His minder approached; he fastened the straps linking Simon’s forearms to the chair. He also fastened the straps pinning the young man’s torso to the back of the chair. They felt a bit tighter than the first time around.

Jerome went over the straps; they were all tight enough and the buckles were fixed properly.

TBC
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Post by kankuro10 »

Yeaaah!! New exciting chapter. I loved it. I like more and more Simon's thoughts and personality parts in the new chapters. Also, Jerome is an interesting character.
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Post by mig137 »

Hello Bondwritter, the new chapter is great, you surpass yourself, you have given Simon a great character. Unfortunately I don't have the talent to write such horny stories myself, but you and the others who make suggestions for the further development of the saga are great. Thanks Bondwriter for writing the saga with Simon and his "friends" and giving it to everyone to read.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Thanks a lot, Kankuro & Mig. I'm always pleased to know Simon fans follow his adventures closely.
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Post by snowylocks »

This reads kinda like a harlequin romance novel. Really touching to see Simon grow up and have all that bondage stuff become a more and more positive part of his life, leading to such interesting encounters. Or is this gonna take a turn into Wilhelm country ? Either way, no-one can write scenes like this as well as you can.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Thanks, Snowy. This is milder Simon indeed; more adventures with abductors and kidnappers are on the schedule.

The Clothing Enthusiast

Chapter 3


He went to the camera and took a picture of a happy Simon.

“An engaging smile, Simon, you’ve been in entertainment for a while…”

“Just over three years,” Simon replied, “So I know audiences want smiling actors.”

“I may only agree with you. My specific audience really has something else in mind when it comes to your face.”

Simon smiled.

“The gag is missing indeed. How do you intend to handle this issue?”

“With something silencing, sturdy and inescapable. Is it OK with you?”

“I’ve been gagged enough times with muzzles that were just as you say; I can take it, no problem.”

“I’ll stuff your mouth with silk to start with. This is key to a silencing gag.”

“You’re quite right,” Simon approved .

Jerome left him no time to explain further, bringing the big, shiny wad to his lips. Simon waited until it touched his lips to open his mouth. His minder crammed in the mass slowly, making sure he filled the boy’s gob evenly. He laid his hand over the mouth while reaching for the ball gag. It wasn’t the biggest ball he’d had to shut his trap. Nevertheless, the straps were a couple inches wide; once fastened, they provided some pressure over his bulging cheeks. They narrowed towards the ball, where the grommet at the end linked to the little steel ring on each side of the ball.

His mouth was cleaved opened and the ball and straps did make spitting the brimming mass of silk out impossible.

“Nice starting point,” Jerome commented, standing in front of his model and examining how the set-up looked, “Can you try to make noise?”

Simon was willing to please.

“Mmmmrgrmmmrmmmphlllmmmmmm!”

“Not much sound. And the stuffing stays visible, your bulging cheeks quite prominent. I’ll get a few shots.”

Jerome got back to his photographer duties for five minutes, to capture the sexy looks of his bound and gagged model with a minimal –while effective– gag. He had his sitter make faces, looking mad, or frightened. He even had Simon smile behind the gag, which really appealed to Jerome.

“It’s all in the box,” he said, leaving his tripod to fetch something from a wardrobe, “We may add a layer, it should get a more sophisticated result. It should tie the whole thing together”

Simon saw a gleaming piece of leather in the artist’s hands. Jerome stepped closer, bringing what looked like a hood under Simon’s nose.

“The finest kid leather, my young friend, and tanned by the best hands.”

Simon liked the smell of leather. The accessory smelled new.

Jerome slid the hood over Simon’s head. It had an opening for his nose and his eyes; the fashion specialist adjusted the piece of skin so it would align proper and display symmetry. He stepped behind the chair.

“This is quite a fancy piece of leather ware, Simon. It should really top the looks.”

He leaned forward, pulling a strand of hair so it would stick from the hood.

“This should make your eyes stand out. Your hair is also a fixture that your audience expects.”

Simon wondered how black and white pictures would show his blue eyes and red hair; he’d have to wait to ask. Jerome started lacing the hood.

There was a fold at the back, so the two edges would close above a thin double layer of leather. The leather stretched and clung to Simon’s features. Jerome laced it up slowly, making sure the two sides got as close as possible. This had been made to Simon’s measurements; the little secret society had done its research and found out information on this impressive, sexy young artist.

Jerome got peeks from the front a few times as he laced the hood up, to check he was still on track for the perfect result he was aiming for. Eventually, Simon’s head was encased in leather. Jerome smiled as he admired the outcome of his cautious toiling from the front.

“This is just stunning,” he said, his breath taken away by the fetish sight he was offered, “I’ll get the finishing touch.”

Jerome fetched some bottle and a small towel.

“Some polish, to make the shots even more impressive…”

Jerome laid some cream over the cloth and he spread it over the hood. The fingers caressing his cheeks and the top of his head made Simon all putty. He enjoyed a good massage like everybody else; the strong, yet delicate fingers laying the fine grease over the leather gave Simon some very strong emotions; he felt the peculiar underwear stretch as he reacted positively to Jerome’s caresses.

The polishing, which the photographer then performed with a piece of angora wool felt equally arousing. Jerome didn’t mention Simon’s boner, but had he really not noticed?

Once he rubbed the whole garment to his satisfaction, he did a pass to tighten a bit the lace pulling the back opening together, and outlining even more the boy’s features it covered. Jerome eventually brought a mirror so Simon could also enjoy the result of the fifteen minutes of care.

Simon was impressed. The material clung to his face, showing his jaw and making the ball gag fully visible. The sheen was this of high-end leather goods. Simon felt a pang of pride. He was modelling luxury items!

Jerome got a few shots, from various distances. He seemed quite eager to take good pictures.

“The nice thing about this part of the photo-shoot is that my model stays still,” he joked

There were more poses, and more attempts at making noise.

“I’ve got all the shots I need. One member of your audience would like some sound recording of you gagged. Can you hold on for a few minutes so I set up the equipment?”

Simon nodded and grunted, curious of witnessing the use of more sophisticated technology. People wanted to hear him as much as see him. Simon had found the mumbled noises of a gagged boy quite moving. Others seemed to share his interest.

He watched Jerome bring a small chest on wheels. Jerome removed the lid, revealing two silver spools at the back, holding some ribbon that went through a black metal piece up front. There was a final item, stuck to the front lid that now was open, with buttons and dial.

“The latest in recording technology, Simon!”

He fetched yet some more stuff: a stand with a microphone stuck on it, which he placed two inches in front of Simon’s gagged face. He plugged the wire coming from the microphone in the recording machine.

“Let’s check it works. Can you say something?”

“Grrmmmmmm…”

“It’s a bit faint, let me try…”

Jerome came next to his model, who felt the warmth of his cheek as he set his mouth close to the microphone.

“One, two, three, Simon gagged tests… A… B… C…”

He said some more meaningless stuff, prodding Simon into grunting in between. It lasted a few tens of seconds. Jerome stopped the recording and he played it back. The sound was crisp. The photographer’s voice was clear and distinct; Simon’s gagged grunts were fully audible …

Simon had to record more mumbled sentences, which Jerome had written on a piece of paper. Jerome had him act out the gagged pleas of a lad in distress. Simon obliged with care and dedication.

“The next one might sound a bit weird, but considering the amount of money this customer pays, I think we may indulge him. See?” he said pointing at the sheet of paper, “You must say ‘I’m sorry I failed my escape attempt, now I’ll stay bound and gagged for much, much longer.’ I trust you’ll give a proper rendition…”

Simon politely obliged.

“Rmmmmrffrmphrmrrmmph. Gnrlllmmmftbnnnnngrhmrrrgrmmmph.”

The recording session continued. Simon had to repeat things like ‘please, Sir, release me and don’t lock me in your dungeon’ or ‘You don’t need to gag me, I promise I’ll remain quiet.’

The cylinders used to record the performance only allowed for a limited duration. Jerome sounded pleased to be done with the list being performed. He got the needle back at the end of the cylinder and he replayed the gagged attempts at mollifying the captor. Simon was pleased to hear the gagged moans sounded genuinely worried. He was proud of his performance as a poor lad in distress.

“Now I’ve fulfilled our customer’s request, I can get back to dressing you up,” he said, lustfully licking his upper lip. “Before I change you, I’ll put on the single glove, it will complete your current grey silk outfit, and it matches your hood.”

Simon nodded approvingly. He watched the item his valet presented him with. It was indeed the same thin and supple leather. Jerome slid the garment over the bound arms. He passed the straps over Simon’s shoulders and around his chest.

It gradually tightened as the lacing and buckling process took place. It kept Simon’s arms in a leather sheath, and it would require some major twists and contortions to get rid of, even for an experienced escape artist.

Jerome finished by pulling two thin leather straps between Simon’s legs. They hung from the tip of the single glove; they went along his loins, headed back behind and buckled above the wrists.

Jerome went over the contraption to check everything was as should be; he slid on small padlocks at crucial locations, locking the restraining garment over Simon’s arms. His forearms felt welded together. His hands were firmly lodged against his bottom. This was a good accessory.

Jerome had him walk around, with a five-inch hobble linking his thighs. He got him in front of the camera, taking a few shots, mainly from behind or from the side.

“I’ll be blunt, Simon, your bottom looks just amazing in this piece of silk, it’s worth using some film to immortalize this lovely bum of yours.”

The photographer brought his tripod closer.

“I’ll get some close-ups, the whole set-up is totally unique!”

Simon grunted proudly, puffing his chest and tilting his head provocatively. In vain, since it wasn’t the focus of the photographer’s attention.

Eventually, Jerome had shot what he wanted.

“I have more shorts and underwear that would look good with you wearing the glove and the hood.”

He brought a piece of purple silk. It was as satiny as the grey ones he was wearing. He kneeled behind his captive and delicately grabbed the waistband, lowering the garment and freeing the aroused sausage it had contained so far. Jerome didn’t say anything about it and casually set the removed silk undies aside before sliding the fresh pair up Simon’s smooth legs. He remained silent as he encased Simon’s midsection in its satiny wrapping. Simon noticed it was a very similar cut to the previous pair, though it felt like there was even more space for his inflated member. Jerome got the straps of the glove attached again, a notch tighter Simon thought, and he hobbled him anew.

He remained on his knees looking at the display of the young and turgid dick pushing against the shiny fabric.

“You like them bloomers, don’t you?”

Simon grunted shyly; Jerome laughed.

“Feeling a bit embarrassed, then? Don’t worry, I don’t find it too weird. I have a similar reaction when wearing such fine material.”

The bulging mass at the front of the shiny underwear twitched.

“You can’t answer because of the gag, but you get your point across any way! I need to adjust your underwear, something must feel uncomfortable?”

Simon felt a finger rubbing ever so briefly his inflated package, causing another reaction from the aroused genitals. Then fingers pulled the waistband and pushed the engorged flesh through the fabric. The front pouch fitted better once he’d done the adjustment, which meant the boner could no longer be denied.

“I shouldn’t touch it, it seems you’re about to burst out, and it would mess up these nice clothes, wouldn’t it?”

Simon moaned. He wouldn’t have minded his cock receiving more attention and being able to discharge. He had explored a bit with masturbation, but his best orgasms had occurred when ¨Patrick, his acrobat friend and roommate had shared his bed and they’d wanked each other. Jerome could certainly get him to experience such feelings again.

Nonetheless, Jerome had no intention to give his model relief. He stood, leaving the satiny tent twitch and Simon grunt his frustration.

TBC
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Post by kankuro10 »

OMG! Another exciting chapter. The story is more interesting and I enjoyed the new moments of Simon. Once again, you write his thoughts and emotions very well and very interesting.

I liked how you ended the chapter (poor Simon. Hehe). I think that the next one will have an interesting beginning.
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Post by Mummyboi »

I love your writing of Simon.... I think Simon needs to be trying in a leather sack to match his current modeling...and finds out who is one of the special investors .... can’t wait for next chapter.
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Post by Veracity »

Leather hoods are a particular fetish of mine, so I enjoyed this chapter even more than usual.
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Post by slider40337 »

Nice :D
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Post by hb54 »

I too like this part of Simon's adventures and are looking forward to the next chapters and what surprise you have for Simon.
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Post by blackbound »

Every Bondwriter post is a good post.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Light posting this week, but at least the Simon fans will get a short installment. Thanks Kankuro, Mummyboi, Hb54, Veracity, Slider40337 and Blackbound!

The Clothing Enthusiast

Chapter 4


Jerome shot a new set of pictures, similarly focused on Simon’s enticing mid-section. He then had him parade so he’d spot the best angles and the viewpoints that made the reflections the most appealing.

“I’ll need a few shots with you wearing these purple shorts while sitting in the chair and locked in the gibbet cage. Let’s start with you being the helpless bird trapped behind bars.”

Getting into the gibbet cage had proved to be easy the first time around; it hadn’t changed and Simon was soon trapped into the stainless steel contraption. Jerome took close-up shots, focusing on the single glove for a while. It drew soft curves that lined with the round, fleshy buttocks and were highlighted by the metal strips encasing it.

Once he’d gotten all the wanted shots in the can, he freed Simon from his medieval predicament, so he could have him strapped to the torture chair again. He had to remove the single glove; Simon felt some relief. He could stand having his forearms welded together for hours; it nevertheless always felt good when his forearms were released.

Simon couldn’t help but notice how cautious Jerome was in handling him. He worked around his prey slowly, cautious not to touch his genitals. The captive’s arousal hadn’t dwindled; he’d rubbed against the cage bars. His motions were hampered enough that he couldn’t achieve release. It still fueled his libido. Jerome’s words and comments about his model’s good looks didn’t help.

“There’s a final pair of underwear for you to try out. Then we can have lunch.”

Jerome came back with another pair of satiny shorts. These were blue also, also more cut like bloomers. Jerome pointed out the specific features of this very special garment.

“Look at the nice heart-shaped cut at the back. Yes, Simon, it will leave your fundament fully accessible. Not that I will use this feature today… And look at the front! There’s a hole to let your willy through, and a front panel that will keep you decent. There’s a whole costume that comes with this, but we’ll just start with the fancy underpants.”

Jerome released his model from the chair to put the kinky, pastel blue garment on. There was some white satiny lace edging at the waist, which wouldn’t make him look too manly. Yet his will to wear such a weird piece of clothing was irresistible.

“I won’t be able to put this on without touching your penis. Are you all right with this?”

Simon nodded affirmatively.

“My, Simon, Jerome acknowledged at last, “Either you suffer from priapism, or you really get a kick out of being in a man’s control.”

Jerome was on his knees again, his face a few inches from the throbbing purple satin-wrapped genitals. His words triggered some motion in the member.

The fashion specialist slid the purple bloomers down, letting the ruby-red tip of Simon’s erect rod rise and stand proudly.

“You’re leaking pre-cum, my young friend. I’ll dry your dick.”

He took out a clean, white handkerchief and squeezed the penis tip to absorb as much moistness as possible. Once he’d achieved his aim, he undertook getting the dick inside the garment before pulling it out through the hole.

“I’ll have to pull your balls out too,” he warned.

The fabric stretched slightly; the man’s light touch got the three-piece set out, getting each item through in turn. He then adjusted it before pulling down the flap. There were thin laces to tie the triangle of blue fabric to the garment and keep his genitals from showing up.

This was an even more obscene penile sheaths, that turned his erect member into a throbbing, shiny blue sausage.

Jerome’s finger lingered over the pouch.

“You wish I’d caress your cock so you get release?”

His fingers seized the penis through the fabric and started its stimulating caress.

“Mmmrplrmmgrrmbbll!” Simon pleaded.

“I wish I could go on,” Jerome stated as he let go of the excited piece of flesh, “But there are more shots to take, aren’t there?”

The routine started over, with the mannequin’s forearms cuffed together, but without the single glove this time. It felt to Simon like Jerome was purposefully avoid rubbing against his cock as he got him from one position to the next. This kept the lad fully erect throughout, which could be a requirement from these perverted customers of his.

Simon made a short stay in the gibbet cage. This proved that he lacked space to grind his hips to achieve orgasm.

After a solid half-hour, the photo job was complete. Simon was strapped in the large chair; Jerome was tidying the space, folding the tried-out garments and gathering his photography equipment in one spot.

“We’re done for this outfit. I’ll show you some pictures I took with other models, if you want to have an idea of what our photo-shoot is going to look like.”

Simon grunted in approval. Jerome picked a large photo album from a wardrobe. He dragged a chair and sat next to Simon. He set the photo-album over his lap and opened it.

The first picture was taken outdoors. It featured a young man, not much older than Simon, trussed up to a tree in just his white underwear. He was gagged and blindfolded. Jerome turned the pages slowly, and commented on the pictures his captive discovered. He didn’t name the models, but Simon spotted four different young men.

Two of them –including the one in the first picture– had a light build and looked thin and frail. The two other men pictured in various stated of bondage were much bigger and bulkier. They might not be over twenty, but they had to be twice as big as Simon. They had wide shoulders, thick biceps, powerful abs and strong thighs.

The restraints and muzzles they modelled made them look very helpless despite their robust constitution. The weird underwear they sported also dampened their classic masculinity. Yet Jerome always focused on their mid-sections. Most shots featured genitals bulging and fleshy behinds stretching shiny fabric.

The predicaments the men were in appealed to the young escape artist also. There were suspensions, with a hunk hanging upside down from the ceiling, held by his cuffed ankles. The picture was remarkable because his gagged face was a couple inches away from another bound and gagged man kneeling in front. They had wide-open eyes, and it looked like they wanted to kiss, which the thick cloth gags they wore definitely prevented.

Simon also enjoyed the shots taken over a spanking bench, which emphasized the models’ buttocks. Jerome brushed against his package a couple times as he turned the pages to reveal new outfits and poses. Simon felt overwhelmed by lust. He spotted the growing dark spot over the satin covering the tip of his knob.

The final photograph depicted three pole-tied victims, all wrapped in silk and ropes, with carefully executed rope work that looked rigorously the same on each of the young men. The anchoring points were adequate, Simon thought. Without any training, this would be inescapable. The picture was taken from a three-quarter angle, allowing for the aroused members wrapped in satiny penile sheaths to stand out against the white wall in the background. The boys looked forward, their heads imprisoned in rope harnesses that pinned them to the metal poles they were trussed up to.

“We haven’t done a pole-tie,” Jerome commented as he shut the book and put it away, “We still have time to make up for this mistake.”

He came back behind his model and strapped his skull to the headrest.

“I’ll let you wait for me in peace while I go get lunch. Well, it’s getting close to tea-time, but time flies when I’m with a skilled model such as you.”

Jerome stepped out, disappearing to the left of the sitting model, who heard the door being shut and locked. Simon’s mind was racing, recreating the photographs he’d just seen.

Some scenarios would have developed, as Simon liked imagining tales in which boys were abducted and kept bound and gagged for a long time. The ‘click’ he heard coming from his right stopped his fancy in its tracks.

A panel had opened in the wall; two men entered stealthily. It didn’t take long for the captive to identify the intruders. Their outfits were designed for butlers, and the smirk they displayed as they stood in front of Simon meant his situation wasn’t a surprise.

They also had to enjoy being tied up, because the men were two of the models pictured in the photo album he’d just been shown. George and Howard, the butlers Jerome had spoken about. They didn’t sound in the least shy and submissive as they examined the prey trapped in front of them.

“He looks even better in person than in the newspapers!” the taller man appraised. He had short hair and he was the tallest. The strongest also, possibly, because his shoulders were wide and muscular. Simon could see his features better than on the photographs, in which his face was concealed by gagging layers most of the time. He looked youthful, boyish even, and he wasn’t over twenty.

“He wears the Little Lord Fauntleroy costume’s blue bloomers elegantly.”

The men’s eyes had drifted towards Simon’s crotch, who was actually reciprocating. They had designer slacks that enhanced their packages, and their double-breasted jackets stopped at the waist. Simon would later learn they were called ‘boleros’, as they looked like toreadors’ outfits. They weren’t as colorful, and they were just a deep navy blue. They wore white silk shirts underneath, and black bowties, which were quite elegant.

Simon relished the fact these short jackets kept their bottoms and packages in sight. His costume also attracted these men’s glances; they shared similar and unusual interests. This made Simon feel at ease.

“You’re right, Howard, it’s a shame he doesn’t have the full costume on.”

“I don’t think Mr. Bolton will mind if we put it on.”

“He always likes us taking initiatives, after all.”

The shortest one was Howard so the beefiest one had to be George. Howard was maybe a few years older, but he had a great smile, black hair and blue eyes, which was a combination that appealed to Simon. He fetched the rest of the costume from a wardrobe.

George loosened the straps. Simon felt his body heat as he unbuckled them one by one. He was then surrounded by the two men as they had him stand, holding him as if preventing him from escaping. Simon was no match for resisting the two hunks. He’d probably lost a wrestling match against any of them. But two minders, aptly locking his arms with theirs before they used steel padlocks to trap them behind his back.

The two men worked in silence; they called out for assistance to tie a square knot, or warned that they were about to move their living mannequin. They were huge and bulky. They stood taller than Simon and kept him in a sandwich, with any escape attempt easy to thwart. Their moves were precise, whether to cuff his wrists and his ankles, on and off as they added the garments while keeping their charge under perfect control.

The guest had no doubt this was part of his host’s plan. Considering the enthusiasm they displayed, not only handling him but also tenting their tight, fitting designer pants. There were ribbons and frills in all the clothes they put on him. The coat, blouse and jacket were short, multi-layered with swishy fabric, and little bows and ornaments. They all were various shades of blue, yet they wouldn’t look too manly.

The men put his legs in white stockings and added blue patent leather sandals. The cuffs were back on, with another larger matching pair above his bare knees added.

“The harness,” Howard said. George brought the web of straps. It matched the sandals’ leather, with shiny stainless steel D-rings at various points, as well as buckles ending the straps.

They set the harness on. It encircled his torso under his armpits, just under his rib cage and around his waist; two shoulder straps extended in the front and back, solidly sewn to the rings. They were threaded between his legs, framing his satin-wrapped genitals in a V, before being buckled around the wider, belt around his waist.

TBC
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Post by kankuro10 »

Oh, Yeah. Another chapter. Thank you.

Seriously, this chapter was very, very exciting. All the details, descriptions, Simon's thoughts and emotions... OMG! I loved it.
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Post by Bondwriter »

Thanks Kankuro! Simon is more at ease in this story, so let him enjoy his time of respite.
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Post by Bondwriter »

We're getting to the end of this story. This week's chapter and a short epilogue next time.

The Clothing Enthusiast

Chapter 5


The two men stood and took a couple steps back to check everything was set right. George undertook straightening the harness, as one strap need to be tightened one notch to achieve the result they expected; Howard rolled the mirror so Simon could look at the costume.

The sight was striking; these clothes fitted him perfectly yet the display in the mirror was this of a much younger boy. One whose mother and nannies had decided to bring down a peg or two through sophisticated girly clothing, and having his erect penis poke his bloomers obscenely.

“It looks good, doesn’t it? It’ll look even better with the matching hat, but Mr. Bolton will take care of this,” George explained. The kid leather was indeed a mismatch, though it wasn’t the first thing that had caught Simon’s eye. “Let’s check that your restraints have been laid out well. It’s a nice challenge to have to restrain an escape artist; we know some of them are good.”

Simon really felt small with the two hunks framing him again. Their gloved hands ran over the straps and the padlocks; they lingered over his body more than was needed for strict safety reasons.

Simon felt less oppressed when they checked his lower limbs: they kneeled. This made Simon’s priapic state unmistakable. Howard was first to acknowledge the matter of interest at hand.

“He hasn’t grown soft since we’ve found him.”

“Being handled by strong men seems to get him very relaxed.” He approached, smelling the penile sheath’s blue tip. “Or very tense, maybe? In need of a hand?”

The double talk didn’t prevent Simon from understanding the implications, or even the offer. He accepted eagerly.

“MrrrMMMrPHGrMMM!”

“It’s our job to please Mr. Bolton’s guests, George. He might even need two hands, and I’ll be glad to lend one myself.”

Simon felt four hands over his mid-section over the following minutes. Gloved ones, whose touch was soft and firm at the same time. George’s fingers closing around his throbbing member were the final straw that caused Simon to let spurts of semen gush out, only to be held by the layer of satiny silk; George licked the seeping liquid, which sent further chills up Simon’s spine. The tongue running over his slippery knob completed his milking perfectly.

The men sat Simon back on the chair; they didn’t strap him to it yet. He could recover from his intense orgasm, watching the two smiling men.

“Mr. Bolton had told us his guest would be entertaining, but I didn’t think he would be as much fun.”

“Entertaining? Say ‘entertained’, George, he didn’t have to do much beyond spilling his seed. We did all the work.”

Simon would have added that the sexy, well-dressed butlers entertained him also, being candy for his eyes. He focused on their crossed gloved hands that were at their crotch, detecting some movement; could they be self-pleasuring?

Their stance was broken by the door to the attic opening. The two hunks stood at attention, turning on their heel to face the newcomer. Jerome Bolton remained his cheerful self. He held a large tray and laid it on a table next to his butlers.

“I see George and Howard have acquainted themselves with you, Simon. I trust they treated you well.”

He leaned over the chair; he had to see the darker hue of the dampened satiny sheath. He didn’t acknowledge it, though.

“You might be surprised that I am the one bringing up lunch, when I have two butlers at my employ.”

The men looked at Jerome with admiration and awe, their faces as supportive and serious as if he were delivering an important speech. They’d turned sideways, and Simon could see how well-endowed they were. Their master’s presence didn’t cause their packages to deflate.

“Howard and George have worked quite hard over the last few weeks and even today while we were shooting pictures. I thought they could get some reward. They share some of your interests in life, Simon, so I thought that having them join me to keep you company could be beneficial to all. In a way, they’re still at work, but I think they will not mind caring for you.”

He turned to Howard.

“You’ve dressed him up with the costume. Nice job, now, you may feed Simon and put on the muzzle and hat; I’m sure you’re as impatient as I am to see our prestigious guest modelling the full outfit.”

Having two minders handle the captive’s meal ensured it went smoothly and cleanly. Howard loosened the laces at the back of the hood. The pressure lessened; it felt weird to Simon who’d grown used to the crafted piece of hide wrapping all of his head tightly. Howard put the precious item aside.

George unbuckled the ball gag and collected the soggy wad of silk it kept crammed in his mouth. He set it over a clean plate. Simon opened and closed his jaws, and felt his tongue move again.

“We’ll all share the meal,” Jerome said, pushing the pedestal table with wheels on which he’d laid his large tray, “You got acquainted with George and Howard, then, Simon? I hope you enjoyed the little surprise.”

“It got my heart racing seeing there was a secret passage. Then having two very professional men dress me up was rather pleasant.”

“You didn’t think this outfit was a bit over the top?”

“Sure it is! This is why I enjoy it, I guess. I’ve been thinking a lot about costume design, as we’ve worked on recent numbers. I’m not sure I may remain in just my blue undies as I grow older. Having outrageous clothing on may keep up the audience’s interest.”

He paused, and George offered a piece of toast. The meal went on peacefully, with Jerome and Simon talking while the two butlers framed him. Howard had a napkin at hand, and he offered Simon some water a few times. They discussed the idea of a scarecrow costume hiding metal rings and chains keeping him pinned to a wooden frame.

His abductors would leave him on display, well gagged while the costume would hide his restraints and muzzle. Of course, this also helped to conceal the release mechanism that allowed Simon to get off. Simon was most willing to discuss their ideas.

Howard and George asked questions about his training, what type of exercise he performed, how often and how long… Simon had some experience in talking to audiences about his art, so he gave detailed and precise answers about the mix of stretching, running, lock-picking and fingers loosening exercises he did on top of the performance, which at times was twice a day.

The atmosphere got more relaxed and casual; Simon was away from the mirror and he could almost forget the silly clothes he was wearing.

“I’ll let George and Howard handle you for the rest of the day, Simon. As you said, they know their job well. To them it’s an honor to assist for the photo-shoot. There’s still one item you need to wear to complete your outfit.”

There were faint ‘yes, Sirs’ from both men, whose dedication and obedience to their master appeared total, from all the time Jerome had joined them.

The landlord sat in a large armchair, facing Simon as Howard gave Simon a last drink of water and George went to the costume wardrobe to fetch the final items to complete the pastel-blue, satiny outfit with frills.

George brought the plug to Simon’s lips. It was wood or cork, cut and shaped to the inside of the wearer’s mouth, covered in blue satiny silk. Simon had to open his jaws wide so the big filler could go past his teeth and fill the front of his mouth. A small patent leather plate was fixed in front, covering his lips; two small rings at the sides held straps of the same make, which George fastened with a thin buckle over the nape of his neck.

Howard held the next piece.

“Your mouth is full, we need to ensure you keep the plug in. This is what a mouth corset is for,” he said brandishing the item, “it’ll help you to keep the posture such a costume requires.”

Simon knew of such sophisticated items of course. This one was eye-catching, with its glittering satin and its shape, which the stays within the contraption outlined. It was designed to encase him from just below his nose to his chest.

It closed with a lace pulling the panel together from the back of his skull to between his shoulder blades. As the lacing went on, the corset closed and tightened, making any head motion difficult, whether from side to side or up and down.

“This ensures the wearer remains still and focused.”

“The hat will block his head further,” George said, bringing the headgear. It was shaped like a bonnet, with ruffles at the side shaped like a visor. It sure would get Simon’s dignity even one notch lower; it also featured chinstraps that turned out to be reinforced with a small strip of steel. They buckled over a chin cup, and Simon did notice how they added to the rigor of the set-up.

“You’re quite eager to gag your prisoner, Howard,” Jerome commented.”

“If you want to silence a captive, you have to do it right, don’t you, Sir?” the man replied with a wink Simon caught. He’d listened to the men talking and seen him interact; now he couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if he weren’t there. Picturing George and Howard at the hands of a strict Jerome Bolton would entertain him for a while if the men decided to truss him up and train for an escape.

The two men kept on looking at Simon’s headgear, adjusting it to get the best possible look.

“It looks good,” Howard remarked, “Now try to call out for help, Simon, so we check it works as it should.”

“Mrrblllmmmmmrgmmmm!”

“It works,” George laughed, “We’ve got him as quiet as a mouse!”

Jerome smiled, cheered up by his goons’ enthusiasm. He was close to Simon, checking the gag. With his staff a few feet away to get a look at the whole picture, he could safely lean in and whisper to the young entertainer’s ear.

“Let them believe they’re expert knot tiers, be kind to them…” He went on louder, addressing George and Howard: “I have a few things to do. You get along well enough with our guest that I can entrust him to you. Watch out, he’s a very good escape artist.”

“We will, Sir,” George demurely acquiesced.

“We’ll bind him solidly, don’t worry,” Howard added to reassure his employer. Jerome left the three young men together in the attic.

“I should be back in half an hour to photograph your work, make it look good!”

George and Howard grabbed Simon and pulled him closer to a beam that stood ten feet from the gibbet cage. Simon stood docilely as they prepared their ropes. There were lots of white cotton rope neatly coiled; George and Howard discussed briefly how to use the harness and make a pleasant-looking pole-tie, with the proper crisscrossing of ropes that their master favored.

“I like it when both the captive and the beam are wrapped in ropes,” George stated.

The men got Simon a step forward to start wrapping rope to the beam. They used seven for his shoulders, elbows, waist, top of thighs, above and below the knees and ankles. They pulled their model back against the solid wooden pole.

They wrapped his body in close and tight rope rings. They had long cordage, which allowed for several turns. In the case of the waist one, they even did an extra turn trapping the pole and the body.

The men’s gestures were relatively skilled. Simon could still pick up the flaws of their rope work. Some of the turns were a bit loose, and a few knots were within the escape artist’s reach. Of course, any average person would have been unable to discern such issues. Simon was far from average.

TBC
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Post by mig137 »

Thanks Bondwriter for sending Simon on new adventures over and over again. It's a great pleasure to read your stories.
;)
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Post by kankuro10 »

OMG. Another chapter of new adventures of Simon. YES!! This chapter was very exciting. I love it. Also, I can't believe that this "adventure" is about to end.

I will look forward to the next chapter, and future new adventures of the escape artist.
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