A Lad in Distress (M/M) - Endless Plight - Complete - November 27th

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1058
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Huh! I seem to have somehow missed the previous chapter. Very daring of Darren and Troy to enter the dragon's lair. Fortunately it looks like Darren isn't about to switch sides to the captors, though he might be forced to switch sides to the captives if they're not abundantly careful!

Glad to hear you've the rest of the story planned out and won't leave us hanging (in gibbet cages)!
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

And shall we expect another volume?
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]blackbound[/mention] Trying to rescue the boys is daring. We'll see how it turns out. [mention]Xtc[/mention], it'll be a seamless posting. I won't leave the readers down! (From the gibbet cage?)
mig137
Forum Contributer
Forum Contributer
Posts: 67
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by mig137 »

very interesting chapter, and i believe you that the next stories will be even more interesting. back to page one. i really like your stories. ;)
;)
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]mig137[/mention] Thanks a ton! You saved the story from the second page. I hope this third act will keep pleasing you.

24. In-House Training


“Get the laces tighter. You can improve the hourglass figure,” Shaun advised.

Darren—working undercover as Doug—complied. He was in charge of preparing Mark and Paul for a livestream show. Shaun and Herbert were taking care of Zach, who would star with the two kidnapped surfer boys. Upstairs, Ted and Bill were getting the cameras ready; TJ stayed around, checking not only on the prisoners but on his new colleague, too; Doug was good-looking and had proved worthy of the job so far.

Mark and Paul spent time in the bathroom, chained, hobbled, and muzzled. They had come out naked, their hands cuffed at the small of their backs and the plug gags preventing any protest.

TJ showed Doug the lacing bars to which they fixed the young men’s wrists. The electric motor pulled their arms up in a V-shape. Zach shared their plight, and the three actors got dressed up with leather shorts, thin patent leather boots coming up to mid-thighs, and what Shaun called a waistcoat but that the wearers would have called a corset, considering how much it thinned their waists.

Shaun came to show Doug how to best wrap his captives and how to get the best of the lace puller to get a perfect fit.

“Some of our patrons were willing to finance the high-range wares. We’ve got to make the best out of these tailor-made items.”

Darren couldn’t help but admire the clothing’s make. The thin, supple hide was cut and sewn to enhance the wearers’ shapes. As a fashion aficionado, the young spy wrapped his models with care, pulling and tugging the leather and using the laces and straps to obtain the best fit.

They removed Mark’s cuffs one by one to put elbow gloves on his arms, which were then cuffed behind him.

“You did a fine job,” Shaun praised his new employee. “Put the gags and hoods on. Then we can get our young men upstairs to Ted and Bill!”

Darren picked up on the importance of this latest arrangement since he arrived. The captives were kept muzzled at all times, and the landlord saw to it their lower faces be encased in tight, shiny shells sealing their lips—which a few layers of tape usually glue together.

This morning, they would stuff the models’ mouths with worn underwear.

“Watch out,” Shaun instructed Herbert, who was cramming Mark’s silk underwear inside Zach’s open mouth. “You want to fill his gob without bulging his cheeks too much or having his lips too distorted. Abooboo is having the time of his life perched on his stool and getting such amazing headgear. You’ll check whether it arouses him.”

Herbert enjoyed having the head at proper height for gagging; the fabric creeped slowly inside, filling every nook and cranny. The fiendish schoolteacher’s work was far from complete; Doug and Shaun helped out, and he never felt any risk their models would rebel. He was exhilarated by the control he could exert on the captives; he was looking forward to helping out in this peculiar household in a full-time capacity

He let Shaun demonstrate the taping of Zach’s lips and how to enhance his features by adding pressure and pulling on the face.

“You’ve got to be mindful of the hood on top. It is top gear and enables perfection, but every preparatory step is important.”

Herbert adhered to the thorough work ethos and listened to the instructions. He took in Shaun’s protégé’s features, scrutinizing the comely face and noting how the wide white swaths reflected its harmony. He reached for the hood.

Zach watched the ten fingers encompass the head protection. Muscular but dry and nervous, the digits reminded him of a spider’s legs. They held the hood three inches from Zach’s eyes. The thin kid leather gleamed, and the bony appendices directed them onto his skull. The leather covered his whole head except for his nose and eyes; the fingers adjusted the thin layer and reached for the lace.

Ten feet away, Darren was encasing Mark’s head in leather, pulling the laces and making the item into the work of art it was designed to be. His mission seemed on the right track. He was careful at all times not to betray he knew Josh and that he wasn’t the eager fan he pretended to be. Troy was waiting for his turn, strapped in a wheelchair, which wasn’t the most strenuous position he could endure in their current environment.

The men took their time and exchanged on their outcome, checking on each other’s work before making final adjustments. Paul got all the men working on his head; the stuffing was massive and the taping stringent. The hood was laced up to grind his skull in the leather vice.

“All done, young man,” Shaun commented. “Mr. Herbert and TJ will take you upstairs.”

They lined up the three leather figures. All eyes fed on the mesmerizing display, the muscles rolling under the thin, clutching layer of gleaming leather. The chain gang left the room under the men’s guidance; Shaun was left with the remaining captives and Darren. He would have some fun and trick the suspected spy.

The sheriff’s call the day before had not surprised Shaun, though he’d been disappointed at having to rethink his shooting schedule with all these captives to handle. The two newcomers could complement his collection, but Shaun knew people who had the accommodation, taste, and time to host a caught snooper.

The day’s objective was to film Darren handling prisoners and behaving like a heartless captor. It would be adequate insurance in case he would complain later on about having spent months in captivity.

“To keep the rest of our friends entertained, we could turn them into sculptures to decorate the room for a party this evening,” Shaun said.

Darren agreed, refraining from asking what it was about. He found out soon enough when Shaun explained him how successful forniphilia videos were. Turning the boys into furniture would provide a learning experience in bondage as well as a proper environment for the Saturday celebrations.

Darren got caught in Shaun’s lessons; the director brought props and explained how they were to be used, which was not obvious for all the setups he had in store. It was a bonding experience; Darren acted as the job required, displaying a lot of enthusiasm for the craft, and he didn’t attempt any communication while handling Josh. Several cameras filmed the platform on which he was turning Josh into a coat hanger, and Darren spotted microphones, too.

He acted professional, getting Shaun’s assent before he undertook each step. The gear made the task easy. The wheeled platform held a pole, an iron bar shaped to Josh’s size and shapes, which ran between his legs, split his leather-clad butt and curved along his spine to stop between his shoulder blades. Leather straps sewn around the metal and wrapped around his limbs made for inconspicuous restraints.

Shaun captured Doug’s performance. He sure made for a convincing sadist, laughing when a strap’s tightening brought muffled protesting moans.

“Hush, prisoner, or it’ll get worse,” he sniggered. Darren enjoyed being bossy, and he role-played a credible villain. He kept taunting his victim while strapping him to the metal bar. The tray and hooks he added were on wide metal rings cut to size and further hampered the piece of furniture’s motions.

The young men wore leather outfits, too; Darren didn’t need to act his enjoyment for seeing masculine shapes and adorning them with fetish attire. He kneaded and felt the boys without restraint as he dressed them up and led them into the predicament Shaun had decided for them.

When he deemed Josh an acceptable clothes rack, Shaun moved his apprentice towards his new task, making Marty into a coffee table. A metal frame would ensure the table would remain flat and the human component immobile. A head harness would keep Marty’s head up, a cable pulling it fixed to his shorts; a small can holder held to a metal strip wrapped around his head completed the installation.

Sean was last, and he was to be turned into a lamp. He stood on a platform just like Josh with a lampshade and a bulb worn as a hat once the main pole had been moored to its wheeled stand.

Shaun had his actor improvise a scene in which he discovered the room, realized the furniture was human and taunted the three unfortunate lads. He hung a scarf to a hook on Josh’s chest, set a tray with glasses across Marty’s back, and switched the light off; he praised the boys and let them know they would remain useful for a very long time.

“As long as you don’t escape, we’ll find ways to use you in productive ways. We’ve got to get you used to serving us while restrained, and this is a first step. Should you behave, who knows? We could have you become more mobile maids.”

The three victims knew being a bondage maid in this household usually proved tiring. Darren wouldn’t mind if the guests were more autonomous and could be relied on for chores, he realized. He kept his heart into fooling Shaun at the moment and rubbed the costumes with a wool cloth to have them shine.

Shaun got more shots from the furniture. They looked amazing, and he managed angles getting all three pieces of furniture in the frame. He told Darren he could go upstairs to check on the livestream if he wanted. The young man agreed; as soon as he was out of the door, Shaun switched on the video-monitoring interface on his laptop to follow the young snoop.

Darren climbed the stairs and entered the Cave of Wonders; he didn’t stop, make a call or even send a text. So far, he hadn’t shown any deviance to the house’s standards. Shaun loved the game and was looking forward to the moment ‘Doug’ would be unmasked.

He focused on another livestream; Herbert was going from one prisoner to the next, checking their predicament’s last details. The three captives faced the camera; their arms were probably in a reverse-prayer position, judging by their shoulders’ gait. They stood riding ropes coming from a metal frame behind their heads, running between their legs and up to a pulley in front of them.

Ted appeared in the frame.

“Thanks to our audience for all the true or false quiz questions you’ve sent. It’s important that after the posture training, we also test our young guests’ intellectual prowess. Of course, I’ll add a bottle of water for each wrong answer, so dunces will be wedgied hard!”

Bill laughed off screen. Herbert read the questions from an electronic pad. They all were impossible to answer, offering the ‘students’ little hope to win based on their knowledge. This was more like playing heads and tails, but the endless list of questions the audience concocted ensured that Bill came to empty a bottle in a bucket often. The way the buckets swung showed the containers were filling up.


TBC
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1058
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

Uh oh, Shaun found out... let's see if Darren finds out that Shaun found out before it's too late.

Love the setup for the pop quiz, very devious!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]blackbound[/mention] I pledge that all characters will eventually find freedom, so yes, good for them.
Jb99
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 115
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Jb99 »

[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] Freedom for how long though?
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Jb99[/mention] Long enough to get caught again!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

25. A Productive Afternoon


After fifteen minutes of being interrogated in turn, Zach, Mark, and Paul all stood on tiptoe, the weight pulling the leather up their butt cracks and running unpleasantly on their genitals.

“Now, gentlemen, out students will have to meditate for a while on the importance of answering questions properly. As one of you said in the comments, we show great benevolence keeping them so well-silenced through the day, which avoids stating something wrong.”

Shaun relished the show. The position wasn’t the most strenuous Ted and Bill could impose, but the cord pulling the boys up had to cause their crotches discomfort, and time wouldn’t make it better.

“Let’s vote on how long they should stay like this and what learning task we should give them.”

The three tormentors disappeared from the screen, leaving the three twitching young men on display. Zach stood in the middle, his lithe body’s muscles all tense; he was the one Shaun watched with intent. The director knew there was a trick, as the boys’ harnesses were held by a thin, invisible wire. It didn’t make the crotch rope pressure any easier, but it didn’t test their balance and would accommodate them for a long time, to the viewers’ contentment.

The shared creativity didn’t mean the audience didn’t like novelty; Ted launched another quick online poll after ninety minutes of the boys squirming. Another parade was requested, and many voices wished one of them could be turned into a maid and taught to wait on their hosts properly.

The three leather models had to wait for another half hour until Ted and Bill got all the instructions from their wicked viewers. Paul had the privilege to prove his domestic skills while the two others could watch from gibbet cages.

Although the buckets’ removal provided a short-lived relief to the models, their wrists remained pinned between their shoulder blades. They were thankful the pressure stopped, but their hoods remained on to conceal the taping sealing their lips over the tasty underwear.

Ted and Bill quickly whisked Zach and Mark away inside the cages, their forearms pressed against each other and their gloved hands resting on their shorted butt cracks.

Paul didn’t fare as well as they did, in a sense. Herbert proved to be a relentless disciplinarian who never tired of harassing unruly pupils and overseeing their tasks. Hobbling Paul with luxury leather cuffs, thin chains, and dainty locks was a great activity to occupy his weekends. Holding a riding crop as your charge sweeps the sand you’ve dropped on the tiled floor provided a sense of achievement.

“I love to instil a taste for labor and proving useful around a household. You display the basic requirements to get the job done, and I can provide training to ensure you learn the proper skills to take care of your share of the household’s life.”

The bony, wicked man’s facial expressions weren’t in line with his words; Paul shivered.

Once the floor was devoid of the last grain of sand, after six assessments, Herbert proposed to have the lad learn to carry things on a tray with his hands cuffed in front. He discussed it with Ted and Bill, who let the online viewers chime in. The collective thinking designed another trial for Paul, who could suffer great consequences if he failed.

He had to carry a bottle and two glasses across the room, pick them up on the tea tray, and set them on the coffee table.

“The glasses and bottle are plastic—it’s only training material. But considering how severe we’ll be when you actually wait on us and make a mess, we’ll inflict strict punishments straight away, for learning purposes,” Herbert sniggered.

He hobbled Paul’s knees with only a couple inches of slack between them and ordered the maid to get going. Paul knew the drill; he took dainty steps to get to the tray and fake glassware he was to carry. His hands were cuffed in front, a chain keeping them close to his waist; he bent down and contortioned to gather the items, then the tray; the ten-foot walk took long, but the waiter didn’t take a false step. Alas, when he set the tray down on the coffee table, the bottle tilted and fell over, his quick wrist stabilizing what threatened to be a total disaster.

“This brings a major penalty for this run,” Herbert said, a devious grin twisting his lips. “But you shouldn’t give up. You’ll get more tries.”

Herbert monitored another twenty moves, which occupied an entire hour. He used the riding crop to smack the fleshy, leather-protected globes, eliciting indignant grunts. In the end, two more mishaps tainted the maid’s performance. The general mood did not lean towards lenience, so the unlucky candidate spent time kneeling down in penance.

They linked his ankles to the top of his thighs, his knees resting on a leather cushion filled with foam.

“You didn’t get the hard wood floor, but don’t lose your balance,” Herbert said. They got his arms behind his back in a box-tie with his forearms welded together.

Ted and Bill pulled Mark out of his cage; the show had to go on, and they had to offer a substitute. Herbert was on a roll; no doubt, he would give another great performance with the other surfer boy.

Downstairs, Shaun inspected his furniture. The postures they’d picked for them meant they could endure them for long, and he kneaded and felt the young men posing as his table, his lamp, and his coat rack.

He then edited the footage he’d made in the afternoon, scrutinizing Darren’s gestures as he picked the parts worthy of a long video that would no doubt please the online audience. He had the livestream on his tablet, and he could only congratulate himself on picking Herbert. He was the real deal; he’d make for a formidable assistant.

He closed his video-editing software.

“I’ll get help to prepare for the party. New guests, new projects—we’ve got tons of things to celebrate.”

Once Shaun got to Ted and Bill’s studio, he sent Doug and TJ downstairs to watch the three immobilized boys; he couldn’t afford an escape or a fatal incident. And the party wasn’t ready yet.

Ted and Bill ended the livestream, letting the viewers know that if anyone deserved more time in penance, they’d be pole-tied and left to the site members’ scrutiny, which got much positive feedback. Shaun handled Zach’s release himself.

“Did you spend a fun afternoon, Abooboo?” he asked as he opened the hinged front. “You need action after idle time watching Paul and Mark toil. Let’s take you for a walk.”

The walk didn’t include fresh air and time on the moors, but when on the landing, he had Zach do the merry-go-round, holding his leash and spinning as his captive moved his limbs at last. Numb from the cage, Zach slowly recovered. He fought getting used to his plight, but the routine and close care numbed his mind, too.

The party was a success. Darren had his moment when he was offered the possibility to turn Troy into an armchair. He got him out from the cell in which he’d been chained all day and had him don leather gear once clean; Darren commented his work as he used the tube frame TJ brought to turn his prisoner into a chair. Troy’s ass and thighs became the seat and his calves, the chair’s back. His hands stood out at the front on each side of his thighs, cuffed to the tubes.

His ankles were kept against the frame with thick leather straps; Darren shuddered at the extent of the gear available.

“With proper equipment, you get great results,” he praised his host for the exciting opportunity.

The afternoon’s actors didn’t fare much better than their furniture counterparts; they were pole-tied and allowed to watch Shaun and his acolytes eat, drink, and talk about the prisoners while trying out how ‘Travis’ fared as a seat.

After a long evening of community bonding, Shaun felt like going to bed. He’d have Zach back from leather into silk as a night cap upstairs in his royal suite. Kneading and embellishing this already perfect body with caressing layers soothed the director; pole-tying the young man before mummifying him in layers of scarves relaxed Shaun fully, and he fell asleep soon after sliding between the sheets.

In the morning, the man rose early; he freshened up quickly before waking his captive up.

“How are you this morning, Abooboo? I hope you’re in good shape. You’re acting for my movie today. The weekend is over. Let’s get you lazy bums back to work!”

Zach grunted reflexively, which brought a wicked grin to his opponent’s lips.

“It’s still early, so we may enjoy each other’s company for a moment. We’re on our own, and I don’t have to pay attention to each of my words. It’s only you. You matter to me, so I can share a secret. We have a mole inside the house. We got new orderlies to help us out, and one of them is here to rescue one of our guests. We caught the previous one, this Josh lad, who’s becoming a first-class slave. I’ll have to auction him one of these days. He might make us a good amount. It’d compensate for all the worry he gave us and all the care he received since we’ve welcomed him here.”

Zach was used to Shaun’s ramblings, and he let his mind wander; could Herbert be their savior? Or was it Doug?

“As for the spy, I still haven’t decided on a fate that fully satisfies me. I’m not into homicide. I know many people who have the means and desire to host captives long-term. Not all prisoners are as valuable as you, but not all abductors share my preferences. Some just need a male person to keep in their cellar, bound, gagged, and left to despair of being rescued. Interacting a couple times a day with them is enough. You like it here better, don’t you?” Shaun asked, caressing the silk-gagged cheek with his index finger.

Zach gulped, still sensitive to his abductor’s psychological abuse and his innuendoes.

“Where else would you get an acting gig with so much screen time? Speaking of which, movie stars need physical preparation. Let’s tackle yours.”

Zach surrendered to his handler, letting him caress and knead him, which was the actual purpose of performing these ancillary tasks.

“These sexy boxer briefs suit you,” the fiend commented once they left the bathroom

The young actor was awake and fit for work when Shaun pulled him inside the downstairs quarters. Company awaited: Sean and Marty had been turned into cooks, and the rest were moored to chairs or poles.

Bill entered with Paul, victim of strict head mummification, in tow.

“We fed him quickly. He needs to undergo twelve hours in sensory deprivation as a penalty for last night’s mistake.”

The whole group was gearing up for the day’s activities, the trainees being split between actors, video performers, or maids. TJ and Herbert would handle the latter; the place needed sweeping and scrubbing.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

26. On the Lookout



Shaun was growing anxious about the mole. Doug had been there for five days; Ted and Bill assisted in monitoring him, and he didn’t show any suspicious behavior; he didn’t get in touch with the outside world using other means than the ones his employer provided. He didn’t leave the estate to meet accomplices outside either.

On the third day, a private discussion between Shaun, Ted, and Bill had even briefly sowed doubt in the landlord’s mind. Bill wondered if the mole the sheriff had snitched on could be Herbert. He had solid arguments, ranging from the man’s demeanor to his excessive interest in performing the nastiest tie-ups and dole out the strictest discipline.

“He might be an undercover FBI agent. We don’t have ways to check credentials that closely,” he wondered out loud.

“The sheriff told me the voice calling him was youthful,” Shaun replied.

“He’s a great actor, you’ve said it yourself. He’s good enough to fool a bored deputy on the phone.”

Shaun had kept tabs on the man, but of course he could be a plant from any law-enforcement agency. He hadn’t been watched as closely as Darren, though, and if the man was the mole, he had had many opportunities to get in touch with coconspirators.

Shaun hadn’t been alarmed by the man’s taste spending time on the moors—to allegedly breathe the “vivifying” marine air.

“We’ll track his moves better starting tomorrow. The best way remains to engage our suspects with the prisoners’ care so we keep watch of them.”

The two henchmen laughed at the prospect, happy to have a boss who knew how to handle tricky situations.

“Let’s have them work for us, and we can ferret out the spy soon. I should get a reply from one of my contacts today. No need having them on our hands before it’s needed.”

“They take care of the most annoying tasks,” Bill said. “Let them hold the burden. If they’re not spies, they’ll be more effective team players anyway.”

The consensus among the trio remained for the rest of the week. The boys switched between floors, as even the household chores got documented on camera.

Shaun had TJ, Ted, and Bill attend confidential briefings at least once a day. They reported on the new recruits’ behavior, and Shaun informed them on his searching an accommodation for the traitor. Doubts had grown in Shaun’s mind as to the mole’s identity, so he approved of Ted’s idea on their Wednesday meeting.

“What about setting a trap to identify the loyal employee as well as the traitor? Let’s pretend to leave them on their own or with just one of us and see what happens.”

The men had time to plot. In the evening, Shaun told Herbert and Doug that they’d spend part of the weekend in charge of the prisoners while he, Ted, and Bill had an awards ceremony to attend. TJ would stay with them, as he knew all the ins and outs of the estate. TJ added he hated awards ceremonies, which surprised no one.

The week went smoothly. The boys were kept on their toes—often literally—to give the best displays to the lens. Herbert and Doug blended in, finding their place in the well-oiled machine; their efforts would be missed, but Shaun couldn’t abide a traitor.

On Saturday morning, the trio gave a hand to get the captives ready for long captivity and minimize the need to move them while there was little manpower in the house. They all got diapers and plastic pants. Their captors used chains, hobbles, and fetters they locked shut to make their bondage inescapable. Pole-tied, chair-tied, standing at the lacing bar—contraptions allowed for creativity. It extended to the muzzling, which Herbert said had to be effective, as he had little patience for whining.

The residents got their heads mummified in unique, identifiable ways: Paul got a black electric tape helmet, and Marty shone with a hat belonging to a shining armor, or that’s what the duct tape looked like when laid out by experts.

Zach got a mix of white athletic bandage and red electric tape. He chewed on Josh’s briefs while pole-tied in the large dining room. Ted and Bill ran a close inspection, reaching for the cuffs, making sure everything was locked tight before they left; the reduced staff were at risk if any of the scoundrels broke free. They’d given instructions to the newcomers, helping them to set up a reduced schedule. Herbert offered to broadcast one or two boys while the others would be stored more securely, gaining TJ’s approval. The senior guard could sit all these captives if they didn’t require much care.

Herbert polled his colleagues on the best candidate for a one-on-one lesson on bondage and discipline they could broadcast to their formidable audience. Marty got the role. Role-playing a schoolboy in the past had always got him aroused; he’d been sensitive to being at the hands of a cautious headmaster even before Shaun picked him to start his harem as a permanent resident.

Herbert was keen on the scenario, and he arranged the other captives as props with the help of the team. Darren settled for monitoring the broadcast and helping out with hygiene. They’d decided that despite the diaper protection, the prisoners would pee in pots to avoid having to change diapers.

Shaun and his two henchmen watched the broadcast’s beginning; Herbert addressed the bound and gagged pupil strapped to his desk from the platform, letting him know of the many lessons he would have to follow through this training weekend. He would need to comply with all orders or earn his fellow-pupils punishments, which they would undergo as a sacrifice to make the two days fruitful for him.

Herbert’s insincere tone delighted Shaun. He hoped Herbert was the real thing and that he could benefit from his presence. They would know soon.

The trio claimed they would drive to catch a plane. They left in the van and went on for a mile before turning around. Ted drove while Shaun kept track of his employees, watching Herbert’s and Darren’s spots on the screen. The set of keys they carried in their pockets held a tracker, but being on a livestream event would prevent them from exploring the estate.

Shaun had plenty of time to enact his plan; he revealed an underground passage to Ted and Bill, who thought they knew all the house’s secrets.

“This building still holds surprises that you’ll find about later,” he winked at his accomplices after they entered the bricked corridor inside a mausoleum. The burial ground lay behind the estate with just a small meadow in between. They’d parked the van on the cemetery parking lot and gathered their bags.

Shaun activated a mechanism inside a small stone building, turning concealed disks that triggered the back wall’s opening.

“I got this short tunnel built when I got the estate’s ownership. I knew the ground wasn’t too difficult to dig, and one needs various escape routes in our trade.”

“The tunnel helps us come in,” Bill remarked.

“We can come and defend our property.”

The tunnel wasn’t wired and lit, but the ground was even and their flashlights avoided any missteps for the quarter of a mile inside the underground corridor. It went out inside another secret passage; Ted and Bill recognized the space just outside the Cave of Wonders, which they entered next. The help was still downstairs, as Shaun saw on the pad’s screen. They would likely remain undisturbed where they were, and they could act quickly if needed. Their luggage held all they needed to neutralize pesky meddlers. They just had to wait; the traitor was bound to make a revealing move.

They logged to the live feed; Herbert treated them to a great performance. Marty was standing in the corner, his hands crossed on his neck. The thin leather mittens deprived him of his fingers, and the thin steel manacles were chained to a ring on the collar that the stern teacher had wrapped around his neck.

Herbert had set eggs under Marty’s heels, and he was to remain on tiptoe for half an hour to pass the test. While Ted and Bill watched the close-ups Darren picked for the video stream, Shaun had a look at the other cameras to see how the audience behaved. He let the camera’s eye detail Zach; the diaper made him less sexy, but the director couldn’t escape his eyes indignant at Herbert’s behavior.

His attention got back to Herbert, who had set a small stick between Marty’s elbows; the pupil was to keep it. He got ten riding crop cuts when it fell—which it did, of course. Marty had become a hardcore player. He could endure his predicament while sweat beads sparkled on his forehead, the strap concealing his gritted teeth and his grimace as he fought to keep his position. His handler heckled him, asking questions to the audience, going to check and read their replies aloud.

Herbert picked on the other pupils, whom Darren filmed, catching glances of the wide-eyed, angry crowd fuming at the mean teacher.

“He’s quite the showrunner,” he confided to his acolytes.

Herbert didn’t disappoint; he added five minutes to Marty’s corner time, which got the pupil to fail and break both eggs. Herbert decided to leave him there for an extra hour so he’d have time for a break before the forfeit. Herbert pinned a paper sheet on the wall.

“I’ll let you review the rules you accepted to follow,” the man said. “You’ll need to know them by heart.”

The trio shifted their view to the direct feed, picking four cameras to display and check on Herbert and Darren while Marty was the talk of the chat box.

The two attendants checked on the other prisoners. The safety measures seemed learned; the two men looked at the right places and tugged on the steel hobbles or the locks to ensure they hadn’t been tampered with.

The lads got a bathroom break, which wasn’t too easy with the plastic pants and diapers, but the orderlies were patient and didn’t balk at these mundane tasks.

After handling their captive audience, Herbert could get the spotlight back on Marty. He got released from his corner and had to sponge off the eggs he’d smashed before sitting at one of the desks. Herbert was growing impatient to strap him onto the seat for the quiz. He set the proper length of chain between his wrists and the ring on the desk to make writing possible, but it required flexibility and effort.

Marty had five minutes to list the rules he’d learned. He failed, of course. His chained hands combined with the requirement for quality calligraphy had him miss the last rule.

“At least, what you managed is OK,” Herbert assessed. “It’ll be only a two-hour detention.”

Herbert showed off his roping skills by moving Marty from his desk to the platform and the pole next to the head teacher’s desk. Shaun could see TJ keeping an eye on his colleagues; Darren remained at the console and Herbert was on display for the dozens if not hundreds of viewers at this time of the day.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

27. Flushing Out the Mole


The show went on. Paul replaced Marty for a one-on-one lesson. He underwent two more hours of trials and torments memorizing things, balancing small objects on his head, and showing bravery as he faced adversity.

The orderlies were relentless at their jobs, leading Shaun, Ted, and Bill to even doubt there was a mole in the first place. Herbert and Darren truly enjoyed their dominant position and never got tired of caring for their captives.

The move to the cells took time, but it went smoothly. Once fed and refreshed, the guests ended up strapped to their cots. TJ called it a night; his aides got the message and let him lock the cell doors after wishing the dungeon master good night.

“Sweet dreams, gentlemen!” Herbert waved at the prisoners. “Imagine all the fun we’re still to have tomorrow!”

TJ switched the light off, but the trio, two stories above, had shifted their view to other cameras, the night-vision ones. The wait began. The three men had decided on shifts so they wouldn’t miss the spy if he attempted to use darkness to scheme the prisoners’ freedom.

Shaun took the first shift. After two hours, by midnight, he shook his accomplices awake. A camera picked up motion in the hall outside the attendants’ rooms.

“And our winner is … Doug!”

“Wait a minute. Maybe he’s heading to the kitchen to get a snack,” Bill said; he walked the halls at night, and he was no traitor.

Shaun shifted cameras to follow his new recruit. The young man was definitely not looking for a bathroom or a fridge. He headed down to TJ’s level and straight to the cells.

“You were right, boss,” Ted said. “We’ve got the snoop and his sidekick to take care of, then.”

“We’ll let him release half the boys, then we snatch him and have him regret playing the savior.”

The cells featured three cameras and microphones, which amplified Darren’s whispers as he knelt and explained Josh that it was rescue time.

“I’ve got two buddies in a van waiting for us at the small cemetery behind the estate.”

Bill stood up.

“I’ll handle the meddlers,” he said, going to a cabinet to gather kidnapping gear.

“I’ll go with you,” Ted said. “TJ is waiting for a signal. He’s convinced Doug he slept like a log.”

“We’ll handle the snoop with sleeping gas, not to worry,” Shaun reassured them, picking his gas mask and the canister containing the narcotic. “Get those guys in the van roped tight. I hope they’re good-looking and easy to auction.”

Shaun focused back on Darren. The lad was busy, but in the dark, he fumbled with the straps and was far from having freed Josh, but his gag was off. The two exchanged, revealing more of Darren’s plan.

“How are we going to get away?” Josh asked.

“We’ll free everyone. I’ll get Troy once I manage to get all these straps out.”

The other prisoners had woken up and were emitting short, low grunts; when they understood rescue was at hand, they attempted gagged cheers, low enough to avoid attracting TJ, who was fifty feet away behind a thick door. They calmed down as Darren moved on; eventually, he freed Josh.

“I’ll handle Troy. Release someone,” Darren advised his freed friend.

Under only the night light’s faint glow, releasing the straps was tough. When they found a lock, Darren needed to search among his keys to remove it, which caused frustration.

In a remote room, Shaun rejoiced at the show. His phone buzzed. He picked up Ted’s video call.

“The cat’s in the bag.” Grinning, he turned the camera to show a bound and gagged young man: an athlete with lots of muscle, but the straps pinning his arms and the thick gag filling his mouth made him harmless. The camera focused on another prisoner. They were knocked out, thanks to the effective gas Ted promoted for eventless abductions.

“I’ll wait for you, then.”

“We won’t be long,” Ted replied, winking before he went off. Shaun texted with TJ, who was also watching the prisoners inside the cell struggling to free each other. He told Shaun the gas was ready to be released, but the boss said he’d rather lock them all in and then regain control through the bars. The escapees had a long way to go before they would flee their cage.

Five minutes later, Ted and Bill were back.

“We stored the guests in the woodshed on the ground floor,” Ted said, getting his breath back. “They look good, and they didn’t give us any grief.”

“They didn’t see us coming,” Bill added, laughing. “They had a hard time understanding what happened, and it was funny how they fought and insulted us when they pulled out from their daze.”

His eyes came back to the screen, and he saw TJ had sent several messages. Zach and Josh were outside the cells, free from any restraint, stretching slowly. ‘What are the orders?’ TJ asked.

“Get them,” he texted TJ. “Don’t let them get out. The spy didn’t lock the door.”

TJ must have made noise. The two shapes rushed to the exit door before light flooded the room.

“Quick,” Shaun told Ted and Bill, who reacted to the threat on the screen. They ran down the stairs, only to see the door slam at the end of the hall.

“Get them,” Shaun ordered, rushing the other way into the prison to help TJ. His goon had managed to shut the cell door. Darren was threatening him though the bars.

“Keep an eye on them,” Shaun said. “We’ll bring the fugitives back.”

Shaun darted outside. Things were going according to plan. He ran down the stairs leading to the back of the house; he jogged down the path, torchlight at hand, and spotted an inert shape on the side. It was Josh, knocked out by Ted’s or Bill’s narcotic. He was coming to his senses.

Shaun had two or three minutes before he would be required to act. He could use the time to silence the captive; having him unable to warn his accomplice would make his catch even more memorable.

Zach felt trapped. He’d rushed to the back of the garden to escape through the breach in the wall. He’d run a hundred yards when he noticed Josh wasn’t following him. He wondered about helping him or escaping and picked the latter. He would walk and find help that wouldn’t be connected to the sheriff’s department and its perverted deputies.

The hole in the wall that allowed his escape had been repaired and Zach couldn’t jump over it. He walked along the wall, keeping low and behind foliage. He had to get back to the front of the house, where he could easily climb the fenced gate and reach the road. He heard steps coming behind and got down on all fours. Crawling, he moved slowly to avoid making noise. Adrenalin was rushing though his veins. He could be the last hope for all the others.

He progressed slowly, twice stopping when steps came close. He managed to remain away from his chasers’ sight. Drifting back to his right, he got away from the wall. The delicate moment would be to bypass the main building without getting caught. It was lit up—he would have to run.

He was about to stand for this last stretch when he bumped into a human shape. He spotted a second one behind it. The grunts didn’t belong to anyone he knew. He felt the body, wrapped in nylon and found his hands, cuffed in steel. The muzzles silencing them had a lock too.

“I don’t know who you are, fellows, but I’ll be back to rescue you. I can’t free you from these locks.”

The two men’s ankles and wrists were cuffed and linked in a hogtie. Staying longer could prove dangerous, so Zach rose to his feet and headed towards freedom.

“Bill! Over there!” A voice roared behind him. He started sprinting, hoping he would still be in good enough shape to outrun his attackers. A shadow rose from nowhere and cut his running short; two strong arms embraced him as he tried to get around the ghostly silhouette. A real human had grabbed him, spinning on his heel to absorb the runner’s speed and bring him to a sudden halt.

“Where are you going, Abooboo?” Shaun snarled, clamping his hand around his prey’s lower face to prevent a snarky retort. Ted and Bill joined them.

“The fugitive got acquainted with the two intruders,” Ted said to show he had kept track of their prey all along.

“Give me a hand restraining the street rat. He’s proving feisty,” Shaun said, increasing his grip in response to Zach’s struggles. The two additional pairs of hands thwarted the rebellion, and ropes came out from Shaun’s bag. He spun his captive a quarter of a turn so his goons would have room to weave their cords.

On the floor, Zach spotted Josh hogtied and gagged; his heart sank, as the sight killed any hope to get free.

“Don’t get upset, Abooboo,” Shaun said. “You didn’t stand a chance. You got some exercise, and now you’re going to get some rest.”

TBC
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

. . . and just as things seemed to be moving so fast.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Xtc[/mention] There are bumps on the road, of course!

28. Handling the Traitor


The goons were going for a rope-only bondage, pulling Zach’s forearms in parallel and welding them in white cotton coils.

“That’s a proper chest harness. I’ll go get our two burglars while you gag him,” Ted told his acolytes.

Zach gave his assailants a hard time, but he only got smiles in return and a severe the stuffing of his mouth with dampening fabric. The men held him tight while they taped up his lips with three turns around his head.

The rattling of chains announced the arrival of other prisoners, the two intruders. Ted had unlinked their wrists and ankles, but they were still held tightly in chains. Ted had his charges hop while holding them by their collars. The two silhouettes were wrapped in tight, dark tracksuits.

“It went just as you planned,” he praised his leader. “It was almost too easy to snatch them up.”

“We need them safe and secure. Let’s get everybody back inside,” Shaun ordered.

Ted warned his charges that any resistance would be acted upon severely. The two men grumbled through their muzzles; they’d gotten plug gags that concealed part of their faces. The flashlight revealed their youthful features. One was a muscular, bulky twenty-something. The other one, a slender teen with frightened green eyes.

“They look better than I thought they would,” Shaun commented. “At least, we can have some fun with them.”

The trio got a tidy chain gang and hopped or minced depending on their restraints. When they entered TJ’s quarters, they found him strapping Darren to a wheelchair. It had a high back and a headrest to which TJ was pinning the captive’s head with a strap coming across his forehead.

TJ greeted his accomplices with a laugh.

“I’m waiting for our young traitor to wake up. Should I gag him when he wakes up?”

“My interrogation requires an earlier conditioning, which is best doled out on a muzzled subject,” Shaun replied.

TJ got the message and filled Darren’s gob with a silicone shape. It got him out of his daze. He opened his eyes and gurgled unintelligible words when he saw his backup team, Brandon and Cody, hobbled and muzzled.

“I’m also happy to lecture without being interrupted,” Shaun continued. Darren became furious as TJ taped his mouth. Held so tightly on his chair, he could only feel the muzzle grow thicker.

“We were warned of your coming, so we watched you closely. I always vet my employees for whatever jobs I get them to perform, but it’s of paramount importance for the team taking care of my special guests. We’re still keeping an eye on Mr. Herbert, you know? Your shenanigans didn’t wake him up, by the way. Tomorrow, he’ll be glad to see the meddlers we caught.”

Shaun glowed with satisfied malevolence. Zach missed some pieces of the puzzle; he had taken Doug for just another nasty pervert. He had a hard time believing what was happening; he’d been toyed with and fooled before.

“We’ll have time to chitchat tomorrow. For now, everybody should get a good night’s sleep,” Shaun said.

His henchmen agreed, and the cells got a bit more crowded, though benches were still available to strap Brandon and Cody to. The new guests got the full manor experience: spending the night fully immobilized and gagged.

The next day, the prisoners were taken for breakfast. “We’ve lost an assistant, but we’ve gained two great models,” he commented on the way to the kitchen.

Once done with breakfast, they got ready for the day’s activities. Ted and Bill had taken Marty, Sean, and Paul to the set, as they were to shoot the scenes within the prison where they were held by ruthless captors.

The rest of the boys were sitting in the classroom adjacent to their cells, listening to Shaun and watching Herbert pole-tie Brandon and Cody. They found out their names by having them write on a piece of paper.

“Brandon and Cody, then,” Shaun said, running his tongue over his lips at the appetizing sight. The twinky one, Cody, was to his taste. The director would definitely have a role for him in a motion picture. Although he had organized to get rid of Cody, Shaun could always borrow him at a later date.

Ted and Bill had helped outfitting them as soccer players with antiquated shorts that barely covered their thighs and clung to their bums and cocks. They both wore black shorts; Brandon had a white and red jersey, whereas Cody’s was white and blue.

“It’s heart-warming to see your dedication, Mr. Herbert,” Shaun praised. The man had taken Doug’s treason well—he would keep his job and would no longer have to worry about his competing colleague’s youthful enthusiasm. He didn’t mention this, though, but vocally expressed his contempt towards the meddlers who thought they knew better and his disgust at being betrayed by someone you thought you could rely on. His indignation translated in tighter coils and stricter knots as he trussed Brandon and Cody up to the poles.

“Your skills are precious, though these two scoundrels won’t stay here long enough to warrant the level of tightness you imposed on them.”

“When you do a job, you’d better do it right,” Herbert pontificated.

He’d gotten the most out of the bodies, which only Lycra briefs adorned, the ropes wrapped to display the young men’s muscles. Herbert’s models had been tamed by their abduction and were a welcome decoration to the stern environment. Troy and Darren had been bound to the poles surrounding their accomplices, a fine set of youthful masculinity for TJ to guard until their buyers would pick them up.

Herbert gave Shaun a hand to get the escapees into ‘remedial treatment.’ They pushed their charges into the rooms in the basement, where Zach had spent time already.

“You see, Mr. Herbert,” Shaun explained, “it’s important our young boarders respect our discipline. I’m pleased their shenanigans didn’t cost you any sleep, but it was trouble for us, and I don’t take it too kindling to being woken up at night. I’m sure their fans will understand how this time off is needed, even if it deprives them of the enjoyment our models provide.”

Herbert discovered the facilities, the clever chair that accommodated all physiological functions of the person sitting on it, and the thick walls underground that contained any noise.

They settled Josh on the chair, whereas Zach got a more ordinary one, but they put him in diapers and plastic pants before cuffing, roping, and chaining him to it. The position was bearable; Zach wondered how many hours it would take to become uncomfortable; he shivered, as these times in sensory deprivation usually lasted. The amount of protection between his legs forecasted a long punishment.

Zach got a drink of water before the men packed his mouth with gauze and wrapped his head in bandage and tape. They completed their work with a leather hood, the one that had a small hole for his nostrils., and strapped his head to the headrest. They hadn’t deafened him with earplugs, but there was little to listen to. Josh had plugs in his ears and he didn’t react to any of Zach’s moans.

Herbert loved his job; the prospect of a private lesson with Paul for the benefit of their audience appealed to him, and the morning’s warmup had him eager to bind knots for the rest of the day. Shaun made sure Paul was under proper conditions to get his lesson started: he sat strapped to a desk, and the kid-leather hood let only his eyes and nose through; it also concealed the massive packing and the leather strap keeping it in by pressuring the wearer’s lips.

“Paul must enjoy being the only student to benefit from the professor’s attention,” Shaun stated. “Have fun taming him and making sure he’s engaged. I’ll get to the movie. They need me now.”

He made a quick stop at the cells to see how TJ was doing. The guard was playing a game on his laptop, facing the four bound men, who watched him with eyes full of hate and contempt.

“Our meddlers are a bit stuck,” Shaun joked. “They look fine, though, and I wouldn’t have minded keeping some of them. We could have provided them with jobs. Text me when the delivery men get here,” he told TJ.

The director headed to his set. Ted and Bill were helping Mark and Marty prepare for their scene, but the crew needed instructions and had questions that arose as they set up for the day.

Shaun checked with the cameramen, the lighting crew, and with the sound people. He then went to inspect Ted and Bill’s work. The two actors played the role of captives who were tortured for Jafar’s delight. Wearing togas, they were spread-eagled on a rack in a sixty-nine thanks to the contraptions and double-pulley mechanisms. Their mouths were filled with balls of cloth and their heads were wrapped with coarse twine, cleave-gagging them.

Shaun told assistants to adjust the straps holding Ted’s and Bill’s limbs.

“Leave more slack so we can see the tension increasing as I turn the wheel.”


TBC
Windrunner
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 132
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Windrunner »

“Leave more slack so we can see the tension increasing as I turn the wheel.”
Oh that's devious. Nothing like finding out that the bondage you thought couldn't get any more restrictive, indeed, can do so!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Windrunner[/mention] The captors have to prove their worth to each other, I guess.

29. Getting Rid of Issues


They shot the scene several times. Shaun improvised his tirade and got new elements in as he went, like grabbing Marty’s hair to stick his head closer to Mark’s crotch. The actors squirmed and grunted just as instructed, which satisfied Shaun’s taste for control.

Ten minutes into the break between the scenes, he informed the crew he’d be gone for a while. Shaun had received a text from TJ. He was eager to be rid of his new captives and trotted down the stairs. TJ was talking with two young men inside the jail.

“Hey, boss, there was a misunderstanding. Our friends here have only two cases to carry their prisoners.”

Shaun realized he hadn’t warned there would four young men for sale. The man had large facilities and he’d shown interest at the prospect of welcoming extra guests.

“I’m sorry the transport wasn’t planned properly. If it’s agreeable for your boss, I can lend you two flight cases to make your trip worthwhile.”

One of the men went to the end of the room to call his employer.

“It’s fine with us, if the flight cases are adapted to transport our special kind of cargo.”

TJ went to get the cases with one man while the other one and Shaun admired the pole-tied prisoners.

“They look great, don’t they?” Shaun said to initiate small talk.

“It’s almost a shame we have to untie them. This roping is perfect,” the man replied.

“You can tell. It’s nice to know our guests will get expert attention.”

“We’ll handle them with care,” the man said, a grin on his lips.

TJ and his fellow-captor came back pushing the flight cases in which they’d stored young men many times. Shaun pointed at Brandon.

“This one is too big. He won’t fit in our cases, but yours seems to be his size,” Shaun said.

Inside, the large boxes were festooned with padding covered in silky fabric; their coffin-like appearance got the four prospective passengers to protest and plead without any feedback.

The captors teamed up to handle the task at hand; no need to take risks with reluctant captives. Getting them in their journey pods with fetters was quick and easy, though. Brandon was first, and his arms were strapped down to his sides.

The hunk tried his best, but with each limb controlled by one opponent and the restraints, his fight was lost before it even began. He landed on his back in the case, which was soft and cut to his shapes. The many straps that wrapped his body were firmly anchored to the sturdy container. There were rings of thin, tight nylon straps for every joint and two wide ones to immobilize his head.

They didn’t shut the lid, so Brandon witnessed his team being packaged for transportation. He caught a sorry glance from Darren and admired Troy’s pecs as the bellhop managed to get a leg free and kick his opponents—only to be seized and receive a nasty armlock in response.

He cringed when he heard Shaun’s comments as they settled Cody inside a cabinet on wheels. What Brandon pictured as a fun weekend of action and adventure turned into something sinister. The sophisticated kidnappers had plenty of resources to satisfy their base instincts.

Cody was the cute freshman swimmer of his dreams, and he’d been relieved to find out he had his chance with the twink. His younger friend was the one interested in bondage, and he’d tried Brandon’s knotting skills.

They had had fun over the last semester, and when Darren required help, Brandon extended the offer to his friend. What had he done? He was overwhelmed by guilt and found himself praying that they’d get free.

“They’re all in. I doubt they’ll give you any trouble.”

One by one, the cases got shut, plunging their occupants into darkness.

“I may borrow the last passenger for a shooting in a couple weeks. Tell your boss I’ll call him. Such a cute bundle must have his beauty recorded for eternity,” Shaun told the men once the locks were on.

He oversaw the transportation to the van outside. The crates were loaded and moored to the vehicle’s body. The two men climbed in the front cabin and the van took off, the front gates shutting down as the long journey started.

“A job well done,” he told TJ.

“Yes, another solved issue,” the man stated.

Shaun got back to the set and smiled at the sight of Ted and Bill preparing Sean and Mark for a more explicit scene. Sean would be pole-tied kneeling, and his ankles would be pulled and crossed behind the post. Mark would be hogtied in front, his nose an inch from his fellow-prisoner’s genitals. The executioner played by Bill would then flog him and push him closer to the dick the toga barely concealed. Sean was required not to get hard, ‘which would ruin the scene,’ Bill had explained.

Shaun had thought of a scene in which they’d get the scarves pulling the corners of their mouths, keeping the voluminous stuffing in for softer silk wadding. This would be held in by a sophisticated head harness. It took the rest of the morning most of the afternoon to shoot the scene to his satisfaction.

The costume assistants provided clean silk handkerchiefs for each take, though the harnessing took the most efforts. It required Ted and Bill, as masked executioners, to work with convincing, fast, and authoritative motions. They adjusted the lights and the camera’s angle to get the most out of the gleaming hide, which they had Marty polish as they dressed up their lead actors for the scene.

Chained, muzzled, with Bill never leaving him out of his sight, Marty focused on making the leather as shiny as possible; when he saw the brutes buckling it shut around their craniums, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride seeing how his performance mattered on the visual outcome.

The actors got a couple quick breaks to drink water from a bottle with thorough handgags and under the Method acting’s principles the crew was familiar with. The fingers became nimbler and the tired mouths more malleable as takes got shot, which pleased the director.

“Excellent scene,” he praised Ted and Bill. “You really convey a manly attitude that contrasts with our twinks’ languidness.”

Though neither Sean nor Mark knew the last word’s definition, it couldn’t be good. They were mocked for being these fiends’ victims. Their annoyed grunts got the whole crew to laugh; perfectly timed with Shaun’s taunt, they made it comic.

The director’s look and the humiliating reaction from the crew got the actors to quit and let their handlers release them—partially—to bring them back to their dressing room downstairs.

“We managed a decent output today,” he commented to the whole group gathered in the prison they used as a dressing room. “You may get some relax time with Ted and Bill. What do you think?” he asked his factotum.

Ted grinned.

“Having them exercise in front of an audience should be motivating. Our online friends might have ideas on workouts for our hampered lads.”

A faint grumbling came from the annoyed actors, who weren’t given time to reflect. In a chain gang, Sean leashed and leading the way, they headed back to the Cave of Wonders, where the exercise machines were set for the lads.

Dressed in tight, shiny Lycra and bound to the rowing machines, the indoors bikes, and the cross-country skier, the boys put on such a sexy display that Shaun stayed to watch in person. Ted and Bill polled the few viewers who were connected; as soon as the others were notified, a stream of users joined the website while the boys were being prepared.

The chat was on different exercises, and the skier got many comments. Marty was riding it, wearing navy-blue shorts that clung to his round bottom; his thighs pumped and his gluteal muscles rolled under the fabric. Many viewers were grateful for Bill’s close-up on the two undulating mounds. Bill cut strokes with his riding crop when Marty slowed down, getting laughs in the room and their digital counterparts in the chat box.

Each of their guests got attention through the evening, the landlord struck by how good they all looked. The longer their stay, the lither and sexier their figure became, he realized. Marty and Sean had great bodies; the grooming worked and guaranteed the website’s profitability.

The episode ended with them being bound to each other, stomach on stomach, their hands bound to a beam above their heads, their shorts gliding against each other while they twitched and squirmed. The crop fell on each pair of buttocks in turn, having the pair helplessly rise to orgasm, unable to prevent the underwear getting creamed.

Herbert helped behind the scenes, giving the costume assistants a hand; kneading and fondling the actors were allowed, and the instructor didn’t turn down the offer. He was living the dream and had to spend every minute he could close to their fascinating charges.

He approved of Shaun’s idea to leave their pupils in the Cave of Wonders overnight; his energy relieved Ted and Bill of a lot of the unpleasant hygiene tasks to perform.

Chained to pillars, held in stocks, mummified in silk and locked inside a sarcophagus, strapped onto a bondage throne, the prisoners were all secured for a quiet night.

“Good night, those of you who can hear. Tomorrow is another exciting day for all of us,” Shaun parted as they left the prisoners under the webcams’ watch.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

30. Issues Are Solved


The crate was stuffy. Cody felt sweat beads rolling down his forehead, the only uncovered skin he showed. Leather and darkness engulfed the young man. He could breathe but had to draw air slowly, which helped him to master his emotions.

He’d followed his friend Brandon without asking any questions about their safety; Cody liked adventure and righting wrongs. Investigating Darren’s disappearance was a welcome break in his schedule. Plus, Brandon offered to pay all the expenses; going into hotels and restaurants would be nice.

The snooping was fun, and he spent the time waiting for Darren’s message to trigger the attack remembering their old tie-up games. Brandon was the older neighbour he admired. He found him hot too, and their mutual attraction had led to intimate, moist moments together. Cody was usually on the receiving end, but he enjoyed it.

He’d made other playmates through the years. Brandon remained the go-to one for a worthy tie-up game. Immobilization was guaranteed by the use of cling film, duct tape, sleep sacks, wide straps, and other household items turned into restraints.

Cody had relished the moments Brandon silenced and blinded him. With experience, he’d grown good at it, filling his mouth to the brim and sealing his lips. Tape or bandage was used to lock the muffling wad in, and once his eyes were covered with fabric and taped up, Cody drifted off; Brandon’s caresses ensued, which usually meant a couple hours of fun before his friend released him.

Being kept bound and gagged for more than half a day felt different; yet, the case he’d been strapped in felt bearable and allowed his mind to flee to the serenity such a state usually provided him with. He felt pangs of anxiety if he thought of his long-term future, but he could calm down and get another dreamy bout.

The van stopped and the back doors opened. His crate moved a while after this. It tipped slightly and hit the ground, landing on a smooth, hard surface. His container rolled for a while until it moved on to another surface. Cody guessed he went into an elevator. Then it was tile or concrete again. His crate stopped and his waiting resumed. He could perceive voices outside, even laughter, but nothing happened for him for a long time.

He wondered if he was punished for something and would be left in the case, but eventually, he heard clicking and rattling. A gust of fresh air then invaded the confined space and brought goose bumps on his wet skin.

“Looks like we saved the best for the end,” a jolly voice welcomed Cody. His night mask got removed, and he blinked as his sight came back. A hooded face was ten inches in front. His host had dark glasses on, their arms stuck to the nylon with a small piece of tape. It was a big head, but the man stood up.

“The little bundle has the loveliest green eyes. Let’s get him out of his shell to check his bod out.”

Another masked man joined the first one—leaner, taller, but with concealed features, too. Cody spotted Troy in the background, gagged and bound to a chair. The two gloved men unstrapped Cody and had him fold in two, his head between his thighs, while they cuffed his hands behind him. They removed the remaining straps and extracted him from the transportation pod.

“He’s good-looking all right,” the second man said, following with a wolf whistle. “Look at his ass and his thighs. I can already picture him modelling clothes that make twinks like him look irresistible.”

Cody took in his surroundings. They were in a room that was fifteen by twenty feet. It had three bunk beds and two wardrobes, making it a bedroom. The two chests, vertical beams, lockers, and benches also made it a prison. Troy was trussed up in ropes to his seat. Brandon was lying face up on a bench, harnessed in leather with straps linking his helpless body to the thick board making the seat.

The lockers had grids at head’s height and offered three storage spaces; Cody could distinguish Darren’s features, his lower face distinctly white from the bandages now wrapped around his head. The men dragged their prey to one of the thin concrete pillars lined along the right-hand wall.

The wooden floor felt sturdy and warm under Cody’s feet. Judging by the quality materials and designs, he knew he was in some wealthy mansion. The length of his ride from the garage and the elevator had foretold of a warehouse or a business venue but it was someone’s home, his abductors’; they acted as the landlords.

“Like your friends, you will experience some time trussed up like a turkey. We’re keen on the pole-tie. I hope you are, too.”

The fiends worked with fetters to dress up their guest before binding him. Cody got a wrestler singlet; the Lycra wrapped him obscenely. The men didn’t say much while they toiled; a gasp or a chuckle let their mannequin know they were having a good time.

They used wrists cuffs, locks, and thin chains to keep him against the pillar at first. His wrists rested on each side. His ankles were wrapped in chain and moored to the concrete post. Cody saw the men leering at him from behind their masks and dark glasses; he could smell their lust.

The fiends took their time and didn’t shy away from feeling him everywhere while they wove their net around him, keeping him in an erect position that he couldn’t change. In despair, Cody knew that once they’d knitted their web, they could even remove the cuffs and chains and he would still remain their captive through their cleverness and skills with bonds.

Cody had met an uncanny number of people with knot skills these last few days. Shaun’s mansion had impressed him, and his new kidnappers seemed to take their work on a par with the devious director.

“We’ll let you settle in now we know you won’t be up to any mischief. Get acquainted with your surroundings. You’ll spend time in here in the future. If you behave, that is. We’ve got many rooms to accommodate those who throw a wrench in the well-oiled routine we’ve designed for you.”

The men left the room, the lock’s distinct sound confirming the captives’ status. They grunted, unable to trade looks. Three out of four heads were immobilized— to show off their skills, the fiends had made Cody a head harness in rope that locked him looking ahead.

His friends replied in kind to his grunts. The soft hum of their moans comforted the captives. They couldn’t help but wonder about their fate. So far, the new guards hadn’t really said or done anything to trigger warnings. They didn’t show any will to give them more freedom either.

The muffled conversation went on. The temperature was pleasant, and they were among friends. They all tried to escape, looking for flaws in their restraints, but the leatherware at their wrists and ankles, the harnesses Darren and Brandon were corseted in, and the chains and ropes encircling Cody were impossible to break.

They could see the sun descending through the two large skylights above them.

One story below, Derek and Russell had spent their afternoon taking a long break, discussing their guests. They watched them on the TV in the kitchen, on which Derek could summon the cameras concealed inside the captives’ main cell.

They removed their hoods when they entered the kitchen. Derek put his glasses back on. At 38, he wasn’t six feet tall, which had bothered him when he was younger. He was more at ease with himself now anyway. He stopped having financial concerns a year before when he received an inheritance from his uncle.

He had been in movies since his teens and ended up editing action movies. Derek got work throughout his twenties and thirties for all sorts of productions, though many went straight to video. The word of mouth was good, and several companies were in need of his services. He was thorough and serious, and his working speed behind a bench impressed everyone. He’d worked on many of Shaun’s movies, the torture porn ones, which were an achievement for Derek.

The film editor detected the director’s taste for male bondage from his many ‘jokes’ involving bound and gagged young men. He wasn’t subtle, but many people were grateful for openness.

On a break from the editing console, Derek led the conversation towards the movie’s content, namely the scene in which the character was strapped to an electric chair and gagged with a sophisticated leather mask. Derek had happily revealed he liked games with such gear, though he didn’t feel like terminating his playmates the way the masked villain did in Shaun’s movies.

Shaun had gotten Derek the address of good-looking models willing to pose bound and gagged. His latest offer of renting a whole team for sixty days fell at the perfect moment. Derek was between two jobs, and so was Russell; having role-playing slaves for a few weeks would keep the friends entertained.

“We got ourselves two good-looking lads. We’d better make the most of them. I’d love to train them as bondage maids,” Derek confided.

“We can shoot videos, too. They’re worthy actors for a great bondage adventure.”

“That will be lovely. We’ll have to break them in to start with, though.”

The men discussed how they would get their guests to become subservient creatures fulfilling all their tie-up cravings. The talk went on accompanied by snacks and drinks. Eventually, they put their hoods back on and walked upstairs.

They worked in silence, imprinting their will through gestures. They would handle the patients in turns, starting with Cody and Darren. They got the prisoners released from their pole-tie and locker, and then harnessed, hobbled, chained, and tended to their needs. A short stop at the bathroom and a quick intake of food and water took place in complete silence. The two guests cooperated fully.

Troy and Brandon followed suit. They joined their peers inside a locker, though they all got a different one, at least. They’d been provided with two pairs of pullups, which didn’t bode well for their situation’s brevity.

Once the prisoners had all been processed and locked in for the night—muzzled and with their limbs immobilized to prevent knocking on the wall to communicate—Derek and Russell could leave.

“You’ve obeyed,” Derek says in a low, confident voice. “You might save yourselves some punishment.”

He switched the light off. The slamming door resounded in the empty space, shy moans of comfort rising among the imprisoned young men.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

31. Shaun Feels Good



While Darren and his friends were discovering the fate Derek had in mind for them for the weeks to come, peace and order reigned in Shaun’s manor once again. Herbert ran the shows, which relieved Ted and Bill from hands-on duties; they could help with Shaun’s last days of shooting. TJ gave Herbert a hand and played the role of the hooded executioner who worked as the schoolmaster’s assistant, sticking the reluctant bodies across the sawhorse and giving them a flogging to remind them of discipline.

Ted and Bill worked behind the scenes; in the evenings, they communicated with the most enthusiastic site members, who were keen on seeing their wishes fulfilled and pleased to see their money well spent. The young men’s fandom had quite detailed requests for outfits and accessories.

They made up storylines to justify outrageous costumes and predicaments, which Herbert gleefully enacted. The crowd loved the outcomes. The three-day drama following Paul and Josh as Herbert’s pupils was a hit. Any mistake or failure in the ‘academic’ tasks they had to perform yielded a stay in a tight tie-up.

The posture-training lessons had the two sexy captives display their charms, their uniform’s thin, shiny fabric layers making their bums and rods obscener than nudity. The audience helped with quizzes and gave ideas for trials, some of them very detailed and with penalties.

“Paul’s performance only rated at 4.7 and Josh’s at 4.8. It’s an improvement, but it isn’t sufficient to bypass the remediating treatment,” Herbert assessed.

He let TJ take the lads from their desks to the spanking bench and stand. TJ had Paul lean against the bench—actually trestles with a thick leather cushion topping it at Paul’s waist’s height. The boy had to fold in two, and TJ linked his wrists and ankles to the bench’s legs.

Josh stood in front of a small frame screwed on a platform. At both ends, a tube was fixed which ran up to bend and make a horizontal bar at Josh’s hips’ level. TJ surprised him by binding his ankles together, threading the rope through a ring in a platform, and pinning him to the floor.

His captor slid a thin board, at least three feet in length, between his arms and his back. It reached a few inches above his head; Josh heard a click, and he felt the slat being locked to the back of his collar; he’d spotted numerous hooks fixed onto the board. His hands were palm to palm, his wrists cuffed in rope, and TJ linked them to the board, too.

Herbert came with a silk scarf folded into a neat four-inch-wide band, which he used to perfect the packing, taping, and bandage already silencing his pupil. Having tied a square knot on his nape, he used the long ends to make another one behind the board.

“He’s got a flogging to take. Let’s be kind and save him from annoying us with screams and protests.”

The many layers of silk even covered Josh’s nose, making breathing tougher and mechanically limiting his noise level; he started picking on the devious men’s customs. The nipple being twisted to check the silencing work was another annoying habit, which, this time, got him to cast a muffled pained protest just as intended.

“He’s not going to complain. Time for the real fun,” Herbert said, grabbing an end of rope dangling from a pulley ten feet above. He tied the end to the same hook the wrists were connected to and tied a tight square knot. He sat back at the desk.

Josh saw him fiddling with his laptop and understood the evil teacher used it to trigger a winch that slowly tugged the rope upwards.

“Mmmrbbl?!” Josh quizzically exclaimed, bringing smiles to TJ’s and Herbert’s lips. The boy leaned forward, folding at the waist, resting on the round tube bar. TJ had a small piece of wire ending with rings. When Josh had bent down so his nose was close to his knees, his captor snapped the carabiner to a ring at the board’s end, above the boy’s head, and moored the wire’s other end to the rope wrapped around his ankles.

“You can’t escape your punishment now,” Herbert gloated. Josh suspected he was fiddling with the cameras, probably getting close-ups of his captives’ bums, sticking out and up, wrapped in tight, gleaming fabric. Josh didn’t know whether he should be disgusted by his captors or relish their attention. His arms pulled upright and his head two inches from his knees would make the stay uncomfortable quickly.

Herbert used a riding crop to administer the ass-whacking. Josh held on, prepared for each blow and keeping as still as possible, motion being painful in his tight predicament. Paul got his fifty blows next. Josh was grateful when Herbert sat back at his desk. TJ removed the wire cable forcing him to split in two and let his arms down until they were parallel to the floor.

“You’ll stay in penance longer,” Herbert stated, taking two leather hoods out from a drawer. “We’ll keep you from outside disturbances.”

The fiendish educator slid earplugs before he put on the hoods and laced them tight. Josh was second to get blinded and deafened, so he was able to watch how the slender, bony fingers stuck the thin, black hide to Paul’s hair and skin. Herbert removed Josh’s scarf binding his head to the board, stuck plugs in his ears’ canals, and slid the headwear on; Josh felt totally helpless, lost in darkness and silence.

He was left in this void for an eternity. Occasionally, the riding crop fell on his buttocks and stung briefly; he then was left for another lonely period.

His arms coming down foretold his release from the punishment setting. The hood’s grip loosened and he recovered his sight before Herbert removed the foam from his ears.

“I hope we’ll see improvements in your behaviour from this castigation, young men,” Herbert said. “Stay put. We’re not done deciding what you’ve earned for the evening.”



Shaun was watching the scene from the Aladdin bedroom. He’d mummified Zack in silk and fixed him to the bedpost. Herbert’s video stream showed on a large screen; the evil director relished having his special pet watch his friend’s torments.

“I let your eyes free so you’d enjoy your friend’s acting skills. He made for a genuine boy in distress when hooded, didn’t he? We have time before joining the others for dinner. Why not have you experience your friend’s position?”

Zach grunted in reply, eager not to antagonize his foe. Shaun came with fetters and locks in hand. Zach still was on the lookout for a wrongly run routine that would give him leeway and time to flee. His captor was more careful than ever, though, and the unwrapping from his silk shroud and his release from the post coincided with the addition of cuffs and locks, thwarting any unwanted move from his pet.

Shaun left his model wearing his underwear only, dark grey silk briefs that cupped the handsome lad’s bum close, the reflections making the mounds more desirable to the fetish director. Shaun didn’t use a board like his cronies; he had Zach bound facing the post, his hands palm to palm, his wrists and elbows united.

His legs were bound in silk ropes, too. Shaun put his hand between Zack’s shoulder blades and forced him to bend down. He grabbed the boy’s wrists, tied them to the pole, and added ropes to bind his legs together and keep them two inches from the pole. Folded in two, pressed against the beam, the poor lad was as helpless as his friend indeed.

“Your bum looks great in these cute knickers,” Shaun assessed, letting his hands glide on the exposed behind. “You’ve behaved today, but do these cute mounds yearn for a whipping?”

Zach grunted twice to deny his derriere would benefit from stimulation.

“Ha! I’ll use reverse psychology. You say ‘no’ but you’re a masochist. You really want to be spanked. I’m not going to grant your wish. I’ll have a shower, and you stay here and think about what Josh is undergoing at the hands of Herbert, since you can’t see the screen.”

Zach was left in his predicament for much too long to his taste; he still could hear his friend’s moans and Herbert’s scolding, which didn’t improve his mood. He endured, and his abductor was eventually back.

“Anything of interest?” he asked rhetorically, looking at the screen. “They seem to be done with the lesson. Let’s get you downstairs. You must be hungry, and so am I.”

Zach felt sore from his strenuous pole-tie; his captor kept a close watch anyway. Shaun had him don silk shorts and a waistcoat to come down in character. The walk was short and uneventful; Zach was back with his fellow-prisoners. His eyes crossed Josh’s, who smiled under his gag, not wanting to break down in front of his friends.

The boys sat and got restrained by their keepers. The meal was quiet, Herbert diverting his fellow-diners with anecdotes about training reluctant young men. The guests eventually got food and water, one by one, under the silence rule’s strict enforcement.


TBC
Windrunner
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 132
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by Windrunner »

Words fail me. In the last two chapters, you've managed to push just about every fetish button I have, and add a couple to the list. This is just a wonderfully hot, sexy, delicious story, and I would enjoy finding myself in the role of almost any of the characters in it! Thank you so much!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Windrunner[/mention] Thanks a ton for the comment. I started posting stories depicting my own fetishes and kinks knowing that somewhere out there, people sharing them would get a big kick out of reading them. Thanks for making it known!
Jb99
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 115
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Jb99 »

Another excellent chapter. Can't help thinking that one (or more) of the newbies might have some sort of tracker implanted or swallowed so that they might be traced/rescued, but I also think that quite a few of the captives wouldn't mind staying that way!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Jb99[/mention] Salvation will have to come one way or the other.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

32. Life is Sweet


“Marty and Sean are scheduled to provide this evening’s entertainment. The patent leather fetish pageant is a great idea for our video stars,” Shaun announced to the audience.

The orderlies took care of the boys and fed them. Their two models received food and water in satisfying quantity without rush. The gloved hands keeping them handgagged while they chewed didn’t make it a gourmet moment.

Herbert and Ted took the models to the bathroom while Bill went to the library to make sure the video equipment worked. Half an hour later, he welcomed the audience and the actors who’d climbed the two flights of stairs. Herbert and Ted brought Marty and Sean forward while Bill sat the others. The two models were nude except for the harness, muzzles, and chains fettering them.

“Don’t they look perfect?” Shaun commented, walking around the chained pair and enjoying the show his guest provided. Their figures had improved since they’d arrived, and they made the landlord proud. “We sent your reviewed measurements for today’s costumes. Let’s find out how you look in this new gear.”

With the audience strapped to their seats, Bill joined his acolytes to get the livestream going. Marty and Sean stood facing the camera. From the moment they were online, the chat box filled with comments appreciative of their physique. Their genitals got praises; though usually prominently displayed, they were usually covered by Lycra, leather, or rubber.

“Some members are surprised by Marty’s hair,” Herbert said, looking at the chat box.

“We haven’t waxed him in a while. It’s a good reminder. We’ll take care of this and we’ll dress the little blighter up so he doesn’t offend the audience further,” Ted explained.

Bill undid Marty’s leg’s chains to put dark green silk briefs on him. He brought it up slowly, knowing the feel of the fabric on Marty’s skin would trigger his boner. The rod was growing horizontally when he reached the middle of the thighs, and Bill accompanied the upwards motion until he pulled the fabric and trapped the aroused genitals within its soft, gleaming confines.

Herbert saw to Sean’s decency with similar underwear; they had the models turn around to show how finely tailored the briefs were and how they cupped the bottoms delicately. The round mounds’ muscles showed through reflections.

Two lacing bars came down from the ceiling. The henchmen removed Marty’s cuffs, Ted twisting an arm while Bill slid an elbow-length black leather glove up the other one. Bill laced the glove all the way up; the thin, supple material wrapped perfectly, to Marty’s wonder. His arm was then cuffed to one end of the bar. The other arm received its glove, and Marty stood waiting, his arms raised in a V.

The shorts that came next concealed none of the thighs, but they went up to their navels. The cut and stays within the thin layer of black hide compressed their waists, making their bottoms look bigger. Herbert pressed a button to have the lacing bars spin so the lads could show their good looks from all angles.

Next, Bill was in charge of the footwear: high-heeled boots going way above the knees, which would make the wearer’s gait interesting. As days went by, Bill became more and more aroused by booting his charges. The lacing took place at the front, and he caught frequent looks to the calves as he laced up the boots, admiring how the cleverly designed accessory wrapped them.

They did the hood next. When the tape and scarves gag fell off and Ted offered his palm, Marty spat the socks stuffing his gob. He drank water from a bottle, but the dirty stockings didn’t come back.

“We’ll start silencing our model with a mouthpiece cut to his measurements. We got a cast imprint of his mouth, and our wonderful makers worked their magic,” Herbert gleefully told the viewers.

The rubber or silicone mass was big and meant to keep Marty’s teeth slightly apart. But the front of his mouth had no space left—his tongue was trapped. The harness Ted used to keep it in was a novelty. Three thin leather bands held a chin cup and a panel on Marty’s mouth. They were cut to his size and clipped shut. One went around his forehead, and two pulled the mouth-shutting apparatus in place.

It took Bill’s assistance to clip all the straps; they weren’t adjustable and didn’t give much leeway, requiring skills in pulling the ends together. Marty shook his head when they were done, but the harness hampered its motion. It held his jaws together and condemned him to silence.

The hood doubled as a corset mouth, holding his neck in an unrelenting grip. Ted let Bill lace it up, since his accomplice was better at it: his nimbler fingers pulled more slack and got a finer result. Marty’s nose and eyes stuck out of the black coating covering his head.

Ted and Bill released his wrists and pulled his arms behind him, using double straps to unite his wrists and elbows. They spun him around and did an extra half-turn to have his arms showing to the camera.

The sexy gloves were topped by a single glove, which

they slid up Marty’s bound arms, tugging and tucking to get his fingers at the very bottom. A set of straps was attached at the glove’s top, pulling the item up and keeping it that way thanks to a shoulder and chest harness. It took two tries to get it settled, but Ted and Bill were satisfied with their handiwork when they watched it from six feet away. The audience appreciated the gear but also the captors’ efforts to get a great visual outcome.

“Stand still. We’ll have your companion ready and you can exercise these fine legs of yours,” Ted said, patting Marty’s calves as he buckled his ankles in a thin leather strap. He buckled another one above his knees and left the scoundrel turning his back to the audience.

Ted and Bill gave another great show, stung by the audience’s appreciative comments. With each passing day, they loved their job more and more. Their ginger captive got as much attention as his friend, the two fiends wrapping him in the enticing matching outfit.

“Don’t they look pretty?” Ted asked the camera, grinning. The chat box swarmed with praise for the young men’s looks and requests to see them parade. Ted and Bill manacled the boys’ legs at the knees only, leaving four inches of chain between the thighs.

Sean and Marty strutted, minced, and pranced under their instructors’ guidance. They stayed close, a possible loss of balance threatening serious injury. Both models managed to keep upright and didn’t require their guards’ intervention.

The audience next voted for having the young men rid of their single gloves and have their wrists up in the air. The lacing bars came back down; Ted and Bill removed the gloves and linked their wrist cuffs to the bars.

Herbert adjusted their height, bringing them up to the point where the high heels would lift off the floor.

“Their calves look better if they’re almost on tiptoe,” Herbert explained his accomplices. They approved, and the chat box got agreeing opinions. The sight of the leather-clad bums triggered a flurry of new requests, which made TJ spring into action.

He used a leather paddle to thwack the boys’ behinds; the thin strip made loud smacks as it crashed on the leather, triggering grunts, which had the on-site audience snigger and the online one send smilies in the chat box.

The rest of the evening was spent fulfilling the online requests. Some members wanted to see Sean and Marty wearing their single gloves and walk with their legs strapped together.

Shaun watched the show from an armchair, appeased by his goons’ mastery and the comfort and reassurance their dedication provided. Everyone in his crew smiled and seemed happy playing with the captives. The good mood persisted through the rest of the presentation and the preparations for the night.

After greeting their audience, the boys got changed into their nightwear—Speedos—and were brought back to TJ’s cells except for Zach, whom Shaun brought to his suite. Getting him in his new silk sleeping bag was on the agenda, and the sleeves, straps, and buckles daintily sewn around the solidly sewn item made it a formidable restraining tool. The straps around the mattress made it easy to pin Zack onto his back, and the tightening belts and laces ensconced the lithe body in a manner that made Shaun act tenderly.

He slipped in his sheets and cuddled with his captive, his relaxed state bringing him to a deep, reviving sleep soon.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

33. What’s the Long Game?



Cody watched Ted and Bill hogtie Marty. Every coil laid out and every knot tied was detailed by the camera’s high-definition zooming lens. He was sitting himself, as were his three companions, for a screening of Ted and Bill’s best works. They had spent long stretches of time this way since brought inside their dungeon.


The room featured surprises besides its visible furniture, one of which was the overhead projector that turned a wall into a movie screen. Concealed doors led to a large bathroom and a storage room, which they also used to separate the group at moments.


Their captors had spent time with them but seldom speaking, and the men had kept their balaclavas on with sunglasses, so their features were still unknown. Cody was growing familiar with their smell of expensive, tasteful male cologne and their touch. Their fingers prodded and caressed more brazenly each day when the men tended to his intimate hygiene.





Dressing up took up even more time; the captors remained careful not to leave a dead angle triggering an escape attempt, but Cody felt the weight and the interest the digits had for his supple flesh; they adjusted his underwear and shorts and had no qualms lingering on and caressing.


The meals were scarce but filling enough. They had to swallow the bottles of porridge the kidnappers stuck in their mouths before gagging them again in what always felt a crueller way.


They’d graduated to sleeping on bunk beds, at least. But Cody longed for interactions, which the fiendish abductors deprived him from. The glances he traded with his fellow-prisoners didn’t convey much beyond basic feelings, and time seemed to pass slower and slower.


This morning, the two men took wheelchairs out where the four prisoners got settled in one by one, their limbs restrained against the armrests, the seats, and the footrests. When the prisoners’ heads got pinned to the headrests after being gagged to the men’s standards, the men left the prisoners on their own.


The video ended on the screen, the credits rolling after Marty had been stuck in a crate. The post-credits scene hinted at a sequel in which Ted and Bill wonder about what to do with their boxed guest. Cody expected another feature to start. During daytime, they’d been fed a stream of male bondage videos; most had young, twinky victims trained to obey by young men, usually more muscular. Ted and Bill were heavily featured. Only Darren could identify the actors, whom he’d handled during his brief undercover sting. His friends got acquainted with the boys nonetheless, since they were forced to watch hours of each of Shaun’s captives undergoing various trials.


The main door opened, though. Their masked abductors were back.


“How have you been doing?” the taller one asked. The voice was processed through an electronic gizmo he set in front of his mouth, which made the greeting sound sinister.


“We’re moving to a new stage, and one of you will get to train as a servant. We’ve got an idea, but my colleague thinks we should have a competition to pick out our most deserving guest.”


Cody expected the worst; whenever Ted and Bill suggested a trial to test their victims’ stamina, it brought the poor lads a strenuous ordeal. What would the new abductors get them through?


“Stage one of the trial will have you exercise.”


The two men removed Cody’s and Brandon’s wheelchairs’ brakes and pushed them outside. It was the first time they went out the room. The hall was clean, modern, tidy, and impersonal. They entered a room at its end: a small gym with exercise machines but also a sawhorse, wall bars, and frames that could be used for tie-ups.


While the men fetched their fellow-captives, Cody and Brandon traded looks. The latter tried to get a message across through his gag, which got his younger cousin perplex. Was he apologizing? Had he spotted a flaw in their restraints they could exploit? Cody looked around, as much as the straps allowed, only to spot the exercise machines had fixtures to restrain the users to.


The kidnappers were back soon, and Brandon stopped moaning.


“You’ll spend half an hour on each station. Don’t do anything stupid while we get you to your next exercise,” the distorted voice instructed.


The two men were busy during the many hours that followed. Each of their captives spent time on the interior bikes, the rowing machine, the treadmill, and the bar to do pull-ups. The kidnappers turned into exercise coaches, spending their time getting their customers from one spot to the next.


Derek and Russell had talked at length in the morning of the need not to become complacent and watch their charges carefully. With four of them, any escape would have dire consequences, being two to fight back.


They had the four lads work out hard, warning in one of few vocal instructions that failure to give one hundred percent would compromise the final ranking. The youthful bodies launched into physical exercise, all reliving after their days in immobilizing bondage.


The temperature and humidity rose in the room as hours went by. The trainees got an energy drink during a change, the plug gags being easy to remove or replace. The lads enjoyed their physical activities; sweating and feeling their muscles work made them feel alive.


It was mid-afternoon and close to four hours in the gym when they were done. The session ended with a sandwich and water before the prisoners were put in a chain gang, fettered to each other one foot apart at the most. Cody was behind Troy, and he could smell that the young man had worked out.


They all wore sneakers and track suits. Their hands cuffed behind them, they got flight masks blindfolding them.


“You’ll get outdoors time now.”


Darren was first in line and felt the leash linked to his collar tugging him forward. He got going, checking the ones behind had picked up on the start. He took small steps, aware of the short hobbles linking his knees. His fellow-prisoners followed, and they went out to the hall. They turned into another one, which felt smaller, though he couldn’t see. A flight of stairs and tiles at the bottom. Then the door opening on the garden, or at least it smelled like outdoors.


They walked on a lawn and stopped. The boys were unlinked, but their leashes were fixed to a point above their heads.





Their blindfolds fell, revealing a lawn, surrounded by trees, hedges, and foliage. No building in sight. They were following each other, in a circle around a pole. At its top, a wheel hosted their leashes’ ends. Their hobbles were lengthened by three links.


“A good walk will end your exercise. Don’t dawdle. A counter tallies your turns, and you’ll be done when you’ve gone ten miles.”


Grunts of displeasure rose in reply.


“Get going!”


The four athletes obeyed. Cody couldn’t tell who led the way, but one of his companions wanted to be done fast. They progressed in the sun, wearing their dark nylon tracksuits. The little breeze on their foreheads was welcome.


One of the guards came and checked on them; the boys looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would tell them they were done.


“You’re barely halfway through. Hurry up, or there’ll be consequences.”


The bound walkers increased their pace, all keeping an eye on their teammates to make sure no one fell and got hanged. But they walked faster, and Cody realized after a while that their breathings synchronized. Brandon, the gym rat, made noise through his nose, letting air in and out. Cody followed, as his peers did, and they treaded the lawn for what felt like hours. They were dripping with sweat; Cody’s feet were drenched, and he longed for fresh water. At long last, the duo was back. They didn’t say anything, having them stop with a hand raised. Shorter hobbles, blindfolds, and chains between their collars came back, and their guards walked them back to the room they’d spent the week in.


Darren got put in bed first, but they all received the same treatment: the replacement of the cuffs and chains with a harness set over their tracksuits, leaving them standing, arms pinned to the sides and legs welded together, wrapped in cling film and then stuck in a sleeping bag. They laid him on a cot and strapped the helpless sausage.


Cody’s turn came last, and when they wrapped him in plastic film, he felt this was going to become unpleasant. They hadn’t even removed his shoes!


“Good night,” the spooky voice croaked before darkness fell on the young men. Cody felt sticky, and the sleeping bag was warm; he snoozed, but came back to his senses dripping wet, his clothing soaked, and the plastic film keeping the moisture in. He slowly faded back to sleep. His night wasn’t resting; he awoke to realize each time he was trapped in clammy bedding.


The door opened and the light switched on. The two men did what they’d done ten hours previous in reverse, getting the boys in a chain gang after quickly having them release their bladders and bowels. No shower or change of clothes, though. Once the film layers were torn off, musky smells developed, though soon they were outdoors, blindfolded. They had to repeat the walk around the wheel. The blindfolds stayed on this time, and they were warned to pay attention to their steps to prevent an unfortunate accident.


“Time isn’t an issue this morning. You just need to complete the ten miles.”


Derek plugged Cody’s and Troy’s ears. Russell deafened Brandon and Darrell. A pat on Brandon’s butt gave the start.


TBC
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

34. Time to Move On

The captors kept close; they sat in a tree’s shade and removed their masks. Taking a break meant talking. They’d grown used to using non-verbal language when taking care of their guests, but they relished discussing the boys who were taking such an important part in their lives. Having agreed with Shaun to keep the prisoners in long-term captivity, they were required to prevent escape attempts. Their guests were expected to give them as much trouble as possible, as genuine kidnap victims would.
Russell and Derek had experienced tie-up activities that went on over several days before. Running the household, tending to their prisoners, and editing the videos they shot of their unaware models meant the days went by fast. Sitting on the lawn and watching the slaves walk in circles was a welcome break.
“They look hot, don’t they? We should remind them that there’s an end goal to their trial,” Russell suggested.
“Do we need to?” Derek wondered. “There really isn’t. We’ve picked the winners already. It’s just a matter of taking turns for them. We’re going to get four obedient and hard-working valets.”
“And play toys. I’m OK starting with Brandon. Do you like having the twinky swimmer for yourself?”

Derek couldn’t help watching Cody from a few tens of feet away; the sun lit up lithe young man’s figure in his tight tracksuit.
“I’ll have lots of fun with him. We’ve got to try their wrestling singlets on, and I have an idea for an original chair-tie.”
He pictured the young man kneeling on a chair, facing its back. His knees stuck out at the back of the chair, and his Spandex-clad bum rested on the balls of his feet. What wasn’t to like in such a display?
“Cody’s a cutie. I can’t wait to turn him into a bondage maid and have him strut around in fetters.”

The friends went on adding details or trying to come up with better scenarios. They were getting all the clothes and accessories they needed, so they could start making more ambitious videos.
Derek and Russell had worked together doing private tie-up videos and knew of each other’s talents and leanings. In their childhood, they had played together in their suburban neighborhood wrestling and capture the flag. They both preferred being on the giving end of bondage.
The handsome kid in high school, Russell attracted the gay crowd in their SoCal area. They lured and screened prospective tie-up game partners since they were thirteen. They met Kyle, who was a year older but smaller than they were. His upturned nose, freckles, big brown eyes, and long eyelashes made him a pretty boy. Russell knew him from track; horsing around with other athletes was common and a good way to find like-minded boys.
Russel had felt a distinct boner when he’d pinned Kyle down to the ground, holding his wrists and sitting on his stomach, ordering him to surrender and admit defeat. His mate fought but Russell held on. It was an epiphany for the budding bully. He straightened up to dominate the prey he’d caught in the locker in his underwear.
Russell’s bum brushed against a rigid rod barely kept in check by Kyle’s dark Speedos. He turned the older boy around and got him in an armlock and a handgag, which truly sealed the deal.
Kyle had longed for being tied up by other boys and kept incommunicado. Then there he was, his hot teammate pinning him down, humping him, and whispering in his ear how much he would have to pay as a prisoner.

Russell released him soon; their embrace couldn’t last with other boys around. The glance Kyle gave Russell as he stood up was a signed agreement. The next weekend, Russell invited Kyle over to spend the afternoon.

Derek also was a guest, but Kyle found out only when a Spiderman assisted Russell in wrestling him to the ground and trussing him up. They held him fast and roped him up quickly. They also stuffed his mouth and used bandanas on top. The Spandex-wearing henchman removed his mask and set his glasses on his nose to admire his handiwork.

Kyle had to play the vanquished villain all afternoon, and he never got out of his bonds and gags the whole time. It was the first of many games Russell and Derek played with Kyle, who was the first of their many guests. It set a pattern and their leanings. Now they had a whole troop, which promised brilliant scenarios and enticing displays.

Derek’s phone vibrated to alert him the four lads had walked the ten miles. The sun was high in the sky now, and their captives sweated profusely in their tracksuits. He and Derek released the prisoners from the carousel and brought them back inside.

Deprived of sight, hearing, and speech, none of the quartet showed reluctance. The men undressed them, put their clothes aside, and showered the bodies that now smelled ripe before dressing them up in their wrestling singlets.

Only when they were back in their quarters were they rid of the layers covering their heads. The plug gag was the only impediment left. They blinked, trading looks and mumbling softly in sympathy. Strapped to their wheelchairs, Brandon faced Cody, and Troy was six feet in front of Darren, the four of them making a cross’s ends.
As soon as the men left the room, the grumbling and fighting grew furious. The strap pinning their skulls against the headrests were just one of the countless ones welding their limbs to the metal, each bringing special discomfort.
Darren tried to convince his peers to fight against their oppressors, but the others took the garbled message as an attempt to apologize for bringing them into this mess. They weren’t sure whether the limited interaction made time go by faster or their captors were in a hurry, as the key turned into the lock soon.

The men rearranged the chairs so they all faced the wall used for screenings. One of them launched a video from his phone. Shaun’s face appeared: closely shaved and his hair carefully combed.

“Hello, my sweets! I’m sure you’re enjoying your stay. I’ve recorded this video to let you know the stakes of complying with my friend Derek’s instructions. You’ve been hired for several videos, and he’s agreed to helping out with method acting. You’ll have spent a few days as real kidnap victims.”

Darren knew six days had passed, which felt awfully long. And what new fib had Shaun come up with ?
“Your restraints will remain on for the next stage in your training. This phase aims at having you develop modelling skills. We strongly believe in costumes, and you’ll wear different ones to experience how your costume influences your acting. Rejoice! We’re planning to make you into cute bundles, and you should be grateful for the time and taste your dressmakers put into enhancing your appetizing shapes.”

The picture faded to a montage featuring Zach, Marty, and Sean dressed up in various garments. The initial Lycra sportswear got additions as the scenes fly by, the shots never lasting more than a handful of seconds. Accessories appeared as the boys shifted to a new setting. It ended in Marty wearing a custom-made sissy outfit with satiny panels revealing the writhing flesh underneath. The elaborate set made him look sexy with his arms in an arm binder while he strutted back and forth.
Cody felt weird; he was unaware of the mix of mild sedatives and mood enhancers Derek and Russell fed them. He had experienced bouts of exhilaration from the treatment he received or from seeing his friends being turned into tight packages by their keepers. The display of sexy flesh swathed in close-cut textile had him aroused.

The video cut to Shaun again. “I’ll interrupt this lovely show to show you what happens to poor performers.”

A new montage appeared, less dazzling and fast-paced than the previous one and with long travelling shots on the restrained bodies. Paul in his gibbet cage, Marty on a rack, Josh bent over a sawhorse—a litany of punishments. Cody’s underwear bulged; he blushed. The four captives were treated to half an hour of Shaun’s guests in punishing bondage. Some scenes featuring bum whacking, TJ’s arm turning out to please the camera and pacing the video as he administered the paddle smacks.
This long scene was the one before last. The bound audience watched a final Shaun incipit wishing them a productive first lesson in posture training and deportment.
The men handled the captives one by one; the whole afternoon would have proved tedious had Cody not felt the stirring in his loins. The abductors used words, short ones, to give orders or have them move to get dressed up: in super shiny shorts at first, then with arm binders, sophisticated pieces that got them totally helpless—and which Cody found sexy as he witnessed the puffed-up chests of his companions and their sheathed hands gliding along their nylon-clad butt cracks.


End of Endless Plight
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic