Tsuhaya wrote: ↑6 years ago
I finally had time to reread this story again. And I can only feel for John, this necklace is so cruel and amazing at the same time, very happy to be able to read it again
I'm always glad to hear from people who have enjoyed my stories.
Part 14
When John awoke again, it was morning for real (rather than just in a dream and Will and Paul were unlocking his door and entering his room. Both boys were already dressed in gym shorts, mono-colored T-shirts (though the sleeves on Paul’s had been torn off), Nike sneakers, ankle-socks, and baseball caps. In addition, Will wore a shiny pair of reflective sunglasses that completely hid his eyes.
“Rise and shine sleepy-head!” Will said to John happily; clapping his hands loudly together several times to get his attention.
John wanted to point out that it was hard to rise - let alone shine - while one was tied down to one’s bed and could not move. He in fact began to do so. “I – ieeaarrgghh!” he said quite intelligently. Apparently the shock collar had been turned back on – and the jolt level amped up to at least ‘4’ - at some point before he had woken up. This had the dubious benefit of instantly driving what sleepiness still remained right out of his body. It also apparently signalled the end of the mercy break the others had given him overnight.
“Well now; I guess we’ll have to gag you now so you don’t make *that* silly mistake again!” Will exclaimed jovially.
“Oh no! Not that muzzle gag again! Please!” John successfully pleaded in a low whisper; apparently the sensitivity level was no higher than ‘4’ as well.
“No, we’re not putting that old muzzle gag on you!” Will declared with a grin.
John heaved a sigh of relief that the shock collar turned into “Nnnaagghhh!”
“No, that one needs to be washed!” Paul added as he walked to the side of John’s bed with his hands mysteriously held behind his back. John had not noticed this until now but Paul had kept his hands behind him since he’d entered the rom. WTF? Were his hands tied behind him? John was so busy wondering this that he failed to notice the mischievous leer on Paul’s face until he was standing right beside him.
“So you’re wearing the *other* one!” Paul suddenly announced gleefully as he pulled his hands back out in front of him. Clasped in his hands was another muzzle gag even more intimidating looking than the other one was. It had more straps to wrap around the head to hold it snug. It was made of glossy black leather that gave it a sinister look. It was thicker and sturdier than the previous one. And the red ball gag embedded into it was about thirty per cent larger than the previous one had been.
Once again John was reminded of spiders; this time of black widow spiders - something John wanted close to him about as much as he wanted *that* thing to be. However, he was given no say in the matter. Before he could utter a single squeak of alarm, Paul gleefully pounced on him – straddling John’s chest - and wrestled the muzzle gag onto his face with a taunting laugh.
John writhed and thrashed as much as he could – shaking his head violently from side to side in another valiant, futile effort to forestall the inevitable. But Will also climbed onto the head beside him, grabbed him by the head, and forced John’s head up and held it relatively immobile while Paul cheerfully did his job with numerous taunting remarks. John’s only remaining recourse was to look at his captors with his best puppy-dog-eyes look, but also proved to be unavailing.
Once the muzzle gag was securely fastened upon John’s saddened face, Paul laughed tauntingly and gave John’s face a gentle pat before getting off of him. He then proceeded to unlock the manacles around John’s feet and re-secure them in hobbles as he had done the day before. Then John’s arms were freed, but instead of his wrists being secured in front of him he was forced to roll over and lie on his belly while they were cuffed behind his back. John made a small, questioning noise in his throat.
“Since you seem to have shown some desire to escape from us, we can’t entirely trust you not to try again,” Will told john as the captive boy was helped off of the bed and to stand on his feet. “So rather than let you have the freedom to wash yourself this morning, we’ll have to wash you and take care of your other needs ourselves!”
John’s eyes grew wide with alarm as the full implications of Will’s message hit him. Not only were they going to bathe him like a dog, but they were going to ‘assist’ him with his toilet needs like he was some kind of invalid! John began shaking his head from side to side and made a low whining noise in his throat but made no other attempts to resist. Knowing that his only chance lay in a mute appeal for clemency – and an unspoken promise to behave – rather than engage in further futile resistance, John turned on the puppy-dog-eyes again.
As expected, it didn’t work.
“Behave yourself today, and show us we can trust you after all, and *maybe* we’ll cut you some slack starting tomorrow,” Will told John firmly. “But in the meantime, you need to learn what trying to escape and cheat us of our rights will cost you!”
John was utterly mortified as he was marched into the bathroom. His hobbles were removed and he was stripped naked before being stood in front of the toilet. There his aim was assisted by Paul’s hand; wearing a disposable plastic glove. Then he was made to sit and do his business while his hands remained bound behind his back. Once he was stood up, he was wiped (again by Paul) to the accompaniment of disgusted noises from both parties and the sound of a toilet flushing. Other than this, the entire thing was done with almost clinical detachment on Paul’s part. He didn’t leer or stare or taunt John, but simply treated him as a professional vet might treat a flatulent old dog.
Meanwhile Will had drawn John’s bath. John was forced to sit inside the tub (his privates then thankfully hidden from view through a generous application of “Mister Bubble” to the bath water) while his captors scrubbed him clean with exacting thoroughness… especially the places John felt could have done without the attention for once. However, they were not cruel about it; they simply scrubbed him clean without any unnecessary roughness. They could easily have turned this into a torture game and there would have been nothing John could have done about it. However, their goal seemed to be to get him clean rather than torment him – other than psychologically at least.
His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red as John began to close his eyes and moan, but whether from sheer embarrassment or because of some other emotion even he could not have said. For once though, John was glad that a gag completely masked his face and hid his expression from the other boys.
Once his bath was over, John was immediately towelled dry by the other two; something that he embarrassed to find he was enjoying much more than he thought he should. What was worse, his enjoyment of this was plainly visible to his captors, who quietly snickered and commented on his growing “stiffy”. John blushed again, but all attempts to get his mind on other thoughts and reduce the swelling appeared to be unavailing. It was damned difficult to keep your mind off what was happening when another boy was towelling dry your ‘”stiffy” with what seemed like an over-abundance of time and care!
Finally however, the ordeal was done. John was led back to the bedroom, where Paul picked out a set of speedos for him to wear. John was a little incensed that his wishes were not consulted in the matter but – as he was unable to express them while gagged and he was in rather of a hurry to get his privates covered up – kept quiet while these articles of clothing were pulled up his legs and fitted into place around his hips.
John was then made to sit on the edge of his bed while Paul and Will put a pair of socks of his feet and then tied a pair of Adidas sneakers onto them.
Paul and Will then led John over to the closet, and brushed aside what few clothes were hanging by coat-hooks from the overhead bar. John wondered what article of clothing they intended to take out of here to put on him, as he was still shirtless and it was too warm a day for coats or jackets. But they removed nothing, but simply stood John beside the hanging bar – which was roughly at the same level as his chin. John idly noticed that the ends of the bar were set into vertical slits in the closet wall. Each slit was about three feet high, extending from the level of the bar right up to the rather high ceiling of the closet. John idly wondered what all that was for.
Will knelt down beside John and locked a set of hobbles around his feet. Then he released the handcuffs from one of John’s wrists. Paul grabbed one wrist and forced it over John’s head while Will did the same the other from the other side the bar. Will then re-locked the free handcuff around the same wrist as before. John’s wrists were now hand-cuffed to the overhead bar; preventing him from fully lowering his arms again. His hands and wrists were now trapped at roughly eye level in front of him.
“We’ll come get you when it’s breakfast time,” Will told John happily as he and Paul left the closet and faced him from the other side of the open doorway. “Tasha ought to be here any moment now, so you shouldn’t have to wait long.”
The closet door was then closed and locked; leaving John in total darkness.
John silently moaned to himself and checked his situation. He grasped the overhead bar his wrists were trapped against and pulled. The bar would not budge; it was definitely set in there too firmly to be torn free by a kid like him! John tried shifting it again. Nope; Arnold Schwarzenegger himself couldn’t have budged THAT thing! Like it or not, he was stuck here until the others came back to get him.
John sighed with resignation and tried to get comfortable. It was impossible to sit down of course, and also impossible to lower his arms either – so trying to get comfortable under these circumstances was not easy of accomplishment. Oh well; at least he wasn’t hanging by his…
What was that humming noise? And what was pulling on his wrists?!
With some consternation John suddenly realized that the bar his wrists were cuffed to was slowly rising and had been for a while now - taking about ten seconds to rise one inch. The bar was already high enough so that he could stand beneath it without ducking his head - whereas it was almost below his chin before – and his arms were almost at full extension above him. He began to yell into his gag - but made so little noise that even his shock collar paid him no notice – and fought to get himself free.
It was no good. He felt his wrists being forced above his head ever higher – and higher. He had to stretch now to keep his feet on the ground. But soon even that was impossible, and he felt his heels being lifted into the air! John began to squeal frantically. Those slits in the closet wall he’d seen before. The hanging bar was on some kind of hydraulic lift system that was now raising it – and him along with it. John was on his tip-toes now; in another few seconds he’d be hanging in the air right along with these clothes! He’d be…
Suddenly the humming stopped; as did the upward movement of the hanging bar. John’s weight was still being supported on his tip-toes (if barely), but at least he wasn’t hanging by his wrists! But if that bar went up just one more inch...
But it didn’t. It simply remained in place; leaving John in considerable discomfort but not in any great pain. Will obviously knew just how high would be high enough to leave John standing rather than hanging!
John sighed again and settled himself down for the long haul.
After what seemed like the entire day but which he later learned was less than a half hour, John’s arms and shoulders and the calves of his legs were really starting to ache from the strain of his unmoving position. He was beginning to wonder if the others had forgotten all about him, or had simply decided to leave him to suffer here the entire day, when he suddenly felt the bar lower itself again. This time John noticed the difference in the bar height immediately; not only because it alleviated the aches in his cramping legs and arms but also because the descent was several times faster than the ascent had been. By the time the closet door was unlocked and John saw Will and Paul coming inside to get him, John’s feet were already flat on the floor again and his arms were no longer fully extended above him.
“Enjoy your early morning stretching exercises?” Will asked John cheerfully as he freed John’s wrist from the hanging bar and re-cuffed them behind his back.
John shrugged his shoulders and gave a noncommittal grunt, since it seemed pointless to get angry and darned if he was going to nod in agreement with such a question!
“Well, time for breakfast!” Will told him as the two boys led him out of his room and over to the elevator. “Tasha made us pancakes today. We already had ours, so let’s get yours before they get cold!”
John was taken downstairs in the small elevator and led to the kitchen. Rather than be allowed to sit at the table however, John was made to kneel on a towel in front of a chair facing away from the table by both Will and Paul. Paul knelt behind him and swiftly tied his handcuffs and hobbles together while Will unlocked the padlock that held his muzzle gag on and carefully pulled the ball out of John’s aching mouth. John sucked in air so greedily that he got a brief level ‘4’ jolt from the shock collar before he was able to slow his breathing down to normal.
Paul tied a bib around John’s front while Will got a plate of pancakes from the table and sat down in the chair directly in front of Will. The pancakes had just the right amount of butter and syrup on them; Will had known how much John liked of either from observing him eat pancakes back in the boarding school cafeteria. There were also sausages and orange juice. Will leisurely fed John his breakfast while the boy knelt on front of his chair; careful not to spill more than a few drops of syrup on him or on the towel on the floor that stretched between them. Occasionally he had to take a small towel and dab syrup off of John’s chin when there was a minor spill.
Although the manner with which his pancakes were served left something to be desired in John’s opinion, he had to admit that they tasted much better than the boarding school cafeteria’s pancakes ever had. He also couldn’t help but feel as much excitement as he did annoyance in being made to kneel in front of Will and be fed his breakfast by Will’s hand instead of his own.
After breakfast, John was released from his hogtie and his hands cuffed in front of him. He was then made to clean not only the breakfast dishes but also the two muzzle gags he had been wearing. Realizing he was likely to be forced to wear them again eventually, John was very careful to make sure both were very clean. As a reward, Will let him wear the one with the smaller ball-gag rather than the one he’d worn before breakfast; it was a small sliver of mercy but better than none at all.
After cleaning up, John was dosed with sunblock all over his body (except for the part covered by his speedos), which was a pretty interesting experience in itself. He was then escorted outside to the swimming pool, stilled hobbled and cuffed, where a new surprise awaited him; there was a surfboard leaning against the steps that led to the diving board. John was laid face up upon the surfboard, and his two captors wound loop after loop of duct tape around him and the diving board together from his shoulders down to his ankles, so that scarcely any part of him in between showed at all. After about ten minutes, he was firmly cocooned to the surfboard by what seemed to be over a mile of duct tape.
“Surf’s up, dude!” Will declared as he and Paul picked up the surfboard with John lying atop it and carried it over the edge of the pool.
“Cowabunga!” Paul added with a boisterous yell as the surfboard smoothly slid into the water with its momentarily panicked passenger.
John slowly calmed down once he saw that the surfboard was in no danger of sinking beneath him. Will and Paul immediately doffed their shirts and everything else they wore except their shorts. Then they gleefully ran to the diving board and dived into the pool mere feet away from where John lay floating; instantly soaking him in their splash. Laughing and joking, they both swam to where John still lay on his surfboard; looking at them with silent reproach. They simply laughed and splashed him again.
John silently had to admit to himself that it felt good, as it was already a hot day.
Will and Paul swam around the pool for a while; sometimes leaving John to float by himself and sometimes pushing him along as they went. Every so often they rested by holding onto the surfboard and talking with John for a while; laughing and pretending they could understand every muffled word or sound he made in response through his gag.
Occasionally one or the other of them climbed atop the surfboard and casually straddled it – and its occupant – for a few minutes. This alarmed John at first, until he realized that he was still floating with his nose well above water level. This was true even when both of the other boys straddled him at the same time, although it was a close thing. What was worse was that Will and Pal were bigger and heavier than he was, and having them do this was not very comfortable at all. Fortunately though they did not do this often or for very long at a time; nor did they torment him in any other way at the same time.
After swimming for about 45 minutes, Will and Paul decided to come out of the pool and relax in the lawn chairs for a while; soaking up some sun. After another liberal application of sunblock rubbed all over the reachable parts of his body however, John was left to float around the pool on his surfboard.