GETTING IT RIGHT (M/m) - Story Complete 9th Nov

[Xtc]

Well, we'll just have to see. Howard explained about not wanting to be gagged overnight; don't you trust him?
I wonder whether Stephen might not have considered it to be dangerous, he certainly seems to have secrets.

[slackywacky]

Darn, I should have played this game with my babysitter...

Good story. Thank you.

[Xtc]

That's alright for you to say but perhaps Howard really didn't have the choice?

[The slave]

I can't wait to find out more

[Xtc]

Might not be too long yet.

[FelixSH]

Ah, @FelixSH, but what would he have to gain?

A babysitter who has to do whatever Howard says. After Howard has got his blckmail material, he can just tie the sitter up whenever he wants and do as he pleases, ebvery time his parents are away.

I'm curious to find out. And also, to find out who the narrator/babysitter is actually talking to.

[Xtc]

OK. That is certainly one possibility.
The narrator is simply that: a storyteller. Perhaps he is talking to you.

[alkaid_]

if that had happened to me ... or if that happened to me ...

Yes, I would really think that God has looked me in the eye and has blessed me and listened to all my prayers.

I wish those things would happen in real life ...

[lepangolin]

Oh please, don't make us wait for too long! Thanks a lot xtc

[Xtc]

[mention]lepangolin[/mention] . Shouldn't be too long now. Just waiting for a few more readers to catch up.

Yes, [mention]alkaid[/mention] , but from which point of view?

[Socksbound]

Hmmm [mention]Xtc[/mention] this seems to be way to fishy..... Howard is up to something but I’m not sure what. On one hand the kid could be telling the truth on the other it could be a blackmail attempt either way I love the story and can’t wait to find out what happens. I’m betting though that Stephen either ends up tied up of Howard gets the tie up he really deserves

[Xtc]

Fishy, [mention]Socksbound[/mention] ? Don't you trust me? (Where is that smilie for hurt innocence?)
Do you trust the narrator? It's an unwritten convention that one should but, there, I am not a professional writer.
You really can't hedge your bets as you have in the last sentence, though. The bookies don't like it.

[Socksbound]

Fishy, @Socksbound ? Don't you trust me? (Where is that smilie for hurt innocence?)
Do you trust the narrator? It's an unwritten convention that one should but, there, I am not a professional writer.
You really can't hedge your bets as you have in the last sentence, though. The bookies don't like it.

Can’t displease the bookies they have connections..... who knows what would happen if they decide to teach me a lesson on what displeasing them looks like.

I’ll in-hedge my bets and say Howard is telling the truth, but Stephen somehow is going to end up tied up...

[Xtc]

Connections? Surely we they are purely entrepreneurial businessmen?
Your bet has been accepeted.

[Socksbound]

The eagerness of you accepting this bet... has me a little worried. How am I to pay for this bet if I’m wrong???


Cash, cheque, bondage hours???

[Xtc]

Eager? Surely not. I just don't like to keep a mug punter valued customer waiting.
Bitcoin is the acceptable form of payment.

Oh well, better post the next episode.

[Xtc]

GETTING IT RIGHT (3)


Taking Howard’s Photo

I didn’t want to tangle Howard’s longish hair in layers of tape but I didn’t want to hurt him by tying anything too tight in his mouth either but, as it was he who was insisting on being properly gagged, I selected carefully from the supplies. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with any discomfort for more than a few minutes. I had to be careful not to appear to be too good at the job so I selected another roller bandage that had already been unwrapped. That would do. I folded the fabric strip in half across its width and approached Howard with the resultant double strip stretched between my hands.

Howard threw his head back again. “What’re you going to do with that?” He could obviously see at least something under the blindfold where the whole thing had sipped up a bit overnight.

“Gag you with it, like you said.”

“That’s no good. At least tie a knot in the middle first – a big one. Mum’s got to believe that you did a good job.”

I still couldn’t really believe what I was hearing but mine not to reason why . . . I twined the ends of the folded bandage around one another a couple of times and pulled tight. I presented the result to the customer for his approval. He threw his head back again and I lifted the bottom of the now loosened layers of bandage slightly.

“I suppose it’ll have to do. Go on, then.” I thought that, perhaps, I wasn’t going to be too careful about avoiding causing him too much pain after all. Howard bunny-hopped round to turn his back towards me. “Thought I’d make it easy for you.” I passed the fabric over his head and lodged the knot in his mouth as I looked over his shoulder. He certainly offered no resistance. I tied the ends behind his nape and pulled the gag conscientiously as tight as I could. He hardly flinched and the completed reef knot hardly slipped at all before it was secured. I justified myself with a reprise of the opinion that he would not have to stay like that for too long.

“Happy now?”

“Ngeeh, ngeeh.” Howard nodded. Strangely, he seemed genuinely pleased with the result. I pulled the bottom of the blindfold down slightly gain and patted it into place. Was that a snort of frustration? It didn’t sound like it.

I lifted Howard back onto his bed ready for the photo. He lay on his back and I picked up his phone. Trusting little soul, he hadn’t locked it. I took a photo and Howard rolled to face away from me. He obviously wanted me to take another photo to prove that his hands were bound. That made sense so I took a second shot. I thought that the third one that he seemed to expect after he had rolled over to face me but the customer is always right.

Satisfied with his modelling efforts, Howard slipped his legs round and slid off the bed. I assumed it was time to untie him. “OK, Prisoner, the Warden says it’s time for your release.”

“Nguugh! Nguugh!” Howard shook his head violently and tried to back away from me but without much success. He fell backwards onto his bed.

“What?!!”

“Ngoo ngo aa!” I couldn’t understand what he was saying but he kept trying to say something as he sat up again. So I explained that I would have to remove his gag at least so that he could explain what he wanted. He cooperated as I pulled the already disgusting wad out of his mouth and lodged it against his chin. “No, please, Mum needs to see that you haven’t just tied me up and let me go again.”

“Riiight?”

“So, if you’ll just carry me downstairs, sit me on a kitchen chair and take another photo so that she can see the clock. You’ll need to wait until about 10 o’clock so she’ll believe it, though.”

My jaw must have just dropped lower and lower. I was quite glad he couldn’t see me. I was trying to picture the situation: a twenty-one-year-old clad only in his boxers with a bound thirteen-year-old not wearing even that much draped over his shoulder. While I would have enjoyed doing that to my man, that was surely dodgy. “Look, Howard, I’m not really happy about that.”

“Please, if she’s not happy, she’ll make Dad tie me up every night for the next week. You know that’s half term. Please”. He certainly sounded desperate and I didn’t even think of guiding him to the top of the stairs and telling him to go down on his bum. I did tell him, though, that I was going to get dressed first and I turned to leave. “Don’t forget the gag.” I was no longer thinking straight and lifted the knot back into Howard’s mouth, pushed him over onto his back and lifted his legs onto the bed. I couldn’t interpret the significance of the subsequent grunt.

Getting Howard’s Breakfast.

I returned to the guest suite and decided that showering could wait. I quickly changed my boxers and put on a pair of black cargo shorts (my usual fair-weather preference), and a somewhat tatty old Mr. Men t-shirt (No, not THAT one!). I slipped my bare feet into my deck-shoes and returned to my charge. Howard had obviously been rolling around a bit but he was still as securely taped up as when I had left him.

“OK, Shorty, ready?” Howard nodded. “Right, swing your legs over the edge and stand up.” Howard struggled to his feet once more. “OK, hold tight.” I crouched down, pushed my right shoulder into Howard’s midriff and wrapped my right arm around him. He flopped over my shoulder and I stood up. He’s a heavy little bugger.

I made my way somewhat unsteadily to the top of the stairs and grabbed the banister rail rather too firmly with my left hand. “Ready?” I assume that Howard was nodding his head as he ‘nggh’d’ into the roller bandage. I only wished that I was as ready. It must have taken a good thirty seconds, which felt like thirty minutes, before I made footfall onto the ground floor. Howard had remained motionless throughout.

“Right, lazy bones, from here on you walk.”

“Nnnn?”

I decanted my burden onto his feet and steadied him for a few seconds before working my way round behind him and jamming one hand under each armpit. With the tape round his upper arms it was a bit of a tight fit. “OK, Prisoner, hop!” Howard soon got the idea and I could swear he was giggling as I helped him bunny-hop towards the kitchen. Once there, I told him to stand on his own two feet while I pulled out a chair for him.

I took the chair round behind him and pushed it into the backs of his legs; he sat. I pushed the chair and its contents into a position where I reckoned that any photograph would show both him, the way he had been taped up, and the kitchen clock. Christ, it was only about half-past eight! I thought I ought to see about breakfast. I supposed that I could always feed him and replace his gag more securely afterwards to make his mum believe that I had done a better job of it than I really had.

So, breakfast it was, then. I found the cereals and named them in oreder so that Howard could choose. To my surprise, he nodded when I produced the muesli. I thought I might have been babysitting a 13-year-old health-freak. He also selected the milk (semi-skimmed, of course), and the orange juice. As I named each suitable breakfast item for my subject to choose, he either nodded or shook his head; why I didn’t just prepare the breakfast I would have chosen, I really don’t know. We ended up with scrambled eggs on toast.

There was one of those small fold-down tables in the kitchen so I folded out one of the leaves and pulled it over to where Howard was sitting. I had decided that I could feed him more easily if I was sitting opposite him. I wondered why he seemed to accept my explanation that he could stay bound while I fed him so readily, surely this kid couldn’t have been all that difficult to babysit in the past? I pulled the soggy gag out of his mouth and left it hanging round his neck.

“Need a drink, Prisoner?”

“Yes please, Mister.” He still seemed to be playing the game. The subsequent feeding and drinking process was more than a little messy but Howard insisted that his folks could tell if I had to reapply his, by now somewhat ‘lived-in’, blindfold and certainly seemed to panic at the thought. So . . .

Over the next several minutes, Howard’s developing chest gradually modelled the latest in egg, toast crumbs, and tomato ketchup as we both ate our meals. It was almost comforting that Howard almost seemed to be enjoying himself.

“OK, that’s the lot. I’ll get you cleaned up and get the washing up done now.”

“Shouldn’t you gag me first just in case my folks come back early?”

“Would they do that?”

“They might - - - and you wouldn’t want to risk losing all that money, would you?” The, “Oh, and I don’t want to be tied up every night of the half term break either,” seemed, in retrospect, to have been almost an afterthought.

I reckoned that simply lodging that disgusting bandage back into my charge’s mouth would no longer look very convincing so, after explaining that to Howard, his response of, “OK, Mister, I suppose you must,” was difficult to read.

TBC

[Killua]

Nice chapter. I still really want to know if he told the truth or not... Also I still believe that this kid is hiding something...if everything was a lie and his parents would be back early, then I think the babysitter should start to dig his own grave

[Xtc]

Stay tuned: same tug channel, same tug time.
With apologies to the late Adam West, and co.

[blackbound]

Bitcoin? That's crossing a line of sadism I wasn't prepared for.

[Xtc]

Shane really, you might be throwing away the chance of a fortune.

What do you mean: I haven't quoted any odds?

[FelixSH]

Still well done, still curious how this plays out.

Part of why I distrust Howard is the way he talks. I don't trust children who are that polite. Maybe it's a British thing, but calling a babysitter "Mr." makes him sound highly suspicious.

[Xtc]

Ah, but that's only when he is playing the game!

[Inkstain]

Now I'm getting red flags..Wouldn't Howard's parents have left an emergency number to contact them in case he has any questions? This DEFINETY sounds like a good reason to ring them up, for safety's sake, Which I think any responsible babysitter would do in second.

[Xtc]

Almost certainly but it's always a shame to spoil a story with facts; ask T***p!