My name is John and I am a 19 year old guy. I live with my father, aged thirty six, in a small village; my mother died in a car accident when I was five. I am nearly 185cm tall, have short blond hair, blue eyes and I work out often so I am quite well built as well. My father is even taller than me, short dark hair, pale blue eyes and in a good shape too.
Me and my dad got along quite well, he was actually more of a friend than a father. Nevertheless I have never dared to tell him my deepest secret: that I liked bondage. I have fantasized about being kidnapped, bound, gagged and kept like that for a long time. The sex of the kidnapper was actually not important.
From time to time I got really desperate about it and sometimes was very close to ask my father to tie me up, but I could never find enough courage to do it. I was scared he would think I am a weirdo or something…
Anyway, my dad works for a big company, and now and then he has to go on business trips. They never last long, but when he was away I used to stay at Mr. Thomson, our neighbor. He was a little younger than my father and worked as a construction worker. He lived alone in a small house, and as far as I could tell he was never married and had no children. He was a tall, muscular man with I like him a lot and have always enjoyed staying at his small house.
One Monday in August my father returned from work a little early and told me that he had been sent for a business trip that would last a little longer than usual. Probably for several days. He didn’t want me to be alone, so he suggested that I stayed at Mr. Thomson for the time. Now, I was already sixteen and thought that I was too old to bother our neighbor to take care of me, but eventually I gave up.
My dad was to leave on Friday, so before that day he had talked to Mr. Thomson and asked him if it was ok if I stayed with him for several days. Naturally he agreed and said he could take some days off at work. On Friday morning my dad ordered a taxi to take him to the airport and told me to behave and not to cause any trouble to Mr. Thomson. We shook hands and he left. I grabbed some of my stuff and headed to my “babysitter”.
“Come on in, mate.” I heard him when I knocked at his front door. I opened and came in.
“It’s been a while since I was last babysitting you.” He said with a grin on his face.
“Yeah, it was. I hope it’s not a problem. I didn’t want to bother you with all this, but you know how stubborn can my dad be..” I replied.
“No problem at all, mate. Grab your stuff and let’s go to your room.”
Suddenly I strange thought came to my mind. Maybe I should ask HIM to tie me up? First of all, I trusted him and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. But what if he refuses, and, what would be much worse, decides to tell my father about it? I was thinking rapidly, when suddenly words came out of my mouth.
“Mr. Thomson…?” I began but when I realized what I was going to say I stopped. He looked at me, puzzled.
“Go on, mate. Ask whatever you want.” He said in encouraging tone. I sighed and finally asked:
“Could you tie me up?”
I stood there both scared and full of hope. Mr. Thomson didn’t say a word for a while, but finally he replied:
“Why do you want to be tied up?” There was not a sign of anger in his voice. I calmed a bit.
“I just want to see how it feels to be all trussed up and helpless. I wanted to ask my dad to do it, but I was scared what he would think. If you don’t want to do it, then don’t; just don’t tell my father about it.” It was all I managed to say.
“I didn’t say anything yet. I just think it’s strange for a teenage guy to want to be tied up. You sure you wanna try?” He asked and I could swear I noticed a faint smile on his face.
“I surely do.”
“Then ok. If you want it, I’ll tie you up. But once you get tied it’s up to me when to release you.”
“That’s exactly what I want.” I said happily.
“Very well. After dinner I’ll go to a store to buy some supplies. Rope, tape and stuff.”
I was so happy, I could barely believe it! I was about to be bound by my neighbor and left to struggle for God knows how long! My dreams would finally come true…
After we had finished dinner Mr. Thomson went to do the shopping and I did the washing up. He came back after nearly an hour, with the trunk of his car filled with rope and several rolls of heavy duty duct tape.
“Ready?” He asked. I nodded with excitement. I had already prepared and now I was wearing light blue jeans with wide, black belt, a grey T-shirt and cleats. He was wearing nearly the same stuff that I was, only instead of cleats he had his construction boots on.
“Ok, then bring the chair from the kitchen and sit on it.” He commanded.
When I did as I was told he went behind me. When I felt him force my hands behind the back of the chair I immediately got a hard-on. Mr. Thomson crossed my wrists and bound them securely and tightly with a piece of rope. Then he tied them to the chair, so I couldn’t move my hands. Then came the upper arms, which he tied to the chair as well. I was in heaven and so turned on. When my arms were useless to me, Mr. Thomson took two long coils of rope and tied my torso to the chair with one, and my stomach with the other.
“How does it feel, mate?” He asked. “Seems you like it.” He added when he saw a big bulge in my pants. I was ashamed at this point, but he just laughed and patted me gently on the cheek.
Once my arms and torso were securely bound to the chair Mr. Thomson started to tie my legs. First he took a length of rope, put the middle of it to my left ankle and wound it around my leg two times and made a knot. Then he moved my leg next to the chair, took the rope and circled the leg of the chair two times and with the remaining piece he tied my ankle to it. He did the same thing just below my knee, making all the horizontal moves of my leg completely impossible. Next he proceeded to my right leg, and after a short while I could barely move. But Mr. Thomson was a perfectionist, and spotted a flow in his work. He took another two pieces of rope, pressed it perpendicularly to my thighs and tied them separately to the seat of the chair, further immobilizing me. Now I couldn’t even move my legs vertically either.
“Now the gag.” He said and went behind me.
He told me to open my mouth, which I did willingly. He pushed some material into my mouth taking his time to do it properly. It tasted awful, but it didn’t matter. When the whole wad was behind my teeth my he made me close my mouth and took the duct tape. He unwound some, tore a long piece with his teeth and pressed it against my lips. Then he told me to wait a second and went to another room. After a while he was back, holding a baseball cap in his hand. He put it on my head, grabbed the tape and unwound some. He plastered it below my chin, and circled it from my chin to the top of my head slowly and firmly seven times, so I couldn’t move my jaw at all. Next, he unwound another piece of tape, plastered on my already taped mouth and circled it behind my head five times, making sure that my gag stays where it was supposed to stay.
“Try to say something.” He ordered when he finished his job. I did my best to make any sound, but everything that came out were barely audible grunts. The gag was flawless.
“There you go, buddy. Enjoy.” Mr. Thomson said with a grin. I was in heaven….
A helpful neighbour (M/M)
A helpful neighbour (M/M)
Last edited by squirrel 3 years ago, edited 2 times in total.
Now that I was securely bound, gagged and totally helpless, Mr. Thomson checked all the knots to make sure they were tight and out of my reach. Satisfied with his job, he left the room I was bound in, leaving me all alone. Now I could finally struggle and see how well I was bound. After only a few minutes it was clear that without help it would be impossible for me to escape. The way I was tied the only part of my body I could move was my head and fingers. An expert tying.
After some time Mr. Thomson came back to the room and, without even looking at me, he sat behind his desk and started writing something on his computer. I tried to attract his attention, but he had gagged me perfectly and all that came out were very muffled grunts and squeaks. I thought they were loud enough so that he could hear them, but even if I was right, Mr. Thomson ignored me and carried on with his stuff. So I gave up and decided to wait what would happen.
“OK, all settled.” I heard my neighbor speak after an hour.
He got up, moved his chair in front of me and sat. Ha had a faint smile on his face; he kept looking at me for some time, then finally asked:
“Are you gay, John?”
To be honest I was expecting that question; it’s not too common for a teenage guy to ask another guy to tie him up. But I was straight; I had a girlfriend and I liked her a lot. Yet, I have never had the courage to tell her about the bondage thing. I looked at Mr. Thomson and shook my head no.
“Then I presume you were too scared to ask her to bind you. Nothing that I can’t understand, actually. You think it would freak her out, don’t you?” I nodded and he continued:
“Got it. Now, you may not be gay, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re aroused as hell. The bulge in your pants is clearly visible even through the jeans.”
I flushed and he smiled; he was totally right. I was hard as a rock and I wanted to be jerked off… badly. I think Mr. Thomson was well aware of this, but he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he went to a chest of drawers, took out a cigar, and returned to his chair. He lit it, took a deep drag and blew the smoke out.
“Now, you see, unfortunately we’ve got some slight complications here. Every now and then my buddies from work come to my place to drink some beers, watch a match on TV, or have a game of poker. And, what a coincidence, they want to come today. You understand, that I couldn’t refuse; they will arrive shortly, so it means I have to hide you in the cellar. We don’t want anyone to see you like this, do we buddy?” He said and smiled.
I didn’t like the idea of being tied up in my neighbor’s basement, especially if he and his pals were to drink for God knows how long. Besides I was getting hungry and tried to tell him about it, but the tight gag made all my pleas faint grunts. I was sort of my own prisoner now…
“Let’s get you ready, buddy.” Mr. Thomson said with the cigar between his teeth, a roll of duct tape in one hand and coils of rope in the other. Now this wasn’t something I had expected…
After some time Mr. Thomson came back to the room and, without even looking at me, he sat behind his desk and started writing something on his computer. I tried to attract his attention, but he had gagged me perfectly and all that came out were very muffled grunts and squeaks. I thought they were loud enough so that he could hear them, but even if I was right, Mr. Thomson ignored me and carried on with his stuff. So I gave up and decided to wait what would happen.
“OK, all settled.” I heard my neighbor speak after an hour.
He got up, moved his chair in front of me and sat. Ha had a faint smile on his face; he kept looking at me for some time, then finally asked:
“Are you gay, John?”
To be honest I was expecting that question; it’s not too common for a teenage guy to ask another guy to tie him up. But I was straight; I had a girlfriend and I liked her a lot. Yet, I have never had the courage to tell her about the bondage thing. I looked at Mr. Thomson and shook my head no.
“Then I presume you were too scared to ask her to bind you. Nothing that I can’t understand, actually. You think it would freak her out, don’t you?” I nodded and he continued:
“Got it. Now, you may not be gay, but it’s pretty obvious that you’re aroused as hell. The bulge in your pants is clearly visible even through the jeans.”
I flushed and he smiled; he was totally right. I was hard as a rock and I wanted to be jerked off… badly. I think Mr. Thomson was well aware of this, but he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he went to a chest of drawers, took out a cigar, and returned to his chair. He lit it, took a deep drag and blew the smoke out.
“Now, you see, unfortunately we’ve got some slight complications here. Every now and then my buddies from work come to my place to drink some beers, watch a match on TV, or have a game of poker. And, what a coincidence, they want to come today. You understand, that I couldn’t refuse; they will arrive shortly, so it means I have to hide you in the cellar. We don’t want anyone to see you like this, do we buddy?” He said and smiled.
I didn’t like the idea of being tied up in my neighbor’s basement, especially if he and his pals were to drink for God knows how long. Besides I was getting hungry and tried to tell him about it, but the tight gag made all my pleas faint grunts. I was sort of my own prisoner now…
“Let’s get you ready, buddy.” Mr. Thomson said with the cigar between his teeth, a roll of duct tape in one hand and coils of rope in the other. Now this wasn’t something I had expected…
Mr. Thomson put the rope and the duct tape on my thighs and went behind my back. I felt him undo some of the knots, and soon my hands and torso were free. Except for my wrist, of course; they remained bound really well and, as far as I could tell, were supposed to stay like that for a long time. Next my neighbor untied my legs and told me to stand up, which I did willingly, taking an opportunity to stretch my legs a little bit. I looked at Mr. Thomson and gave some muffled grunts; I hoped he would take my gag off, too.
“Not a chance, buddy. The gag stays on.” He said with a grin on his face. I grunted in disapproval.
“Hey, it was you who wanted to be tied up and gagged, so stop complaining.” He said in a rough voice, and added: “Besides, you’re doing a great job cleaning my jockstrap at the moment. And you know what? I have a lot more laundry to do, so I guess you’ll have to be gagged until your father returns.”
Now I was pissed off and started to struggle and shout through the gag. It was true that this whole stuff was my idea, but it didn’t mean that he could use me as some kind of a living washing machine. I thrashed furiously, looking angrily at Mr. Thomson, cursing him and demanding to be untied. But it just made him laugh at me; he was smoking his cigar calmly, waiting for me to settle don a bit.
“You done?” He asked and took a deep drag. I was panting heavily, but remained quiet.
“Good, then move.” He said, put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me.
When we reached the door he opened it and told me to get inside. I did as I was ordered and after a few steps we were in his basement. It was a really messy place filled with various building tools and stuff. I have never been there before so I kept looking around, while Mr. Thomson went upstairs to gather the rope and duct tape.
“You like this place, buddy? I hope you do, ‘cos you’re gonna stay here for a while. Now, I don’t know how long the poker game will last, but after we’re done up there, I’ll come here to feed you and have some fun with you. If you behave, that is.” He said and laughed.
“Now, enough of this. Turn around.” He added and put his cigar between his teeth.
I did as I was told and soon I felt Mr. Thomson forcing my elbows together and tying them together tightly. Next he bound my arms to my torso; he took a long coil of rope, tied one end to my left arm, wound the rope several times around my chest, then tied the loose end my the right arm. My arms were totally useless again.
“On the ground.” He said and helped me to lay down.
He used three coils of rope to bound my legs together at the angles, just below the knees, and the thighs. When he was done, he bent my legs, and used another piece of rope to connect my thighs to my ankles. Next, he tied my wrists to my ankles, effectively hogtying me, and making sure that there would be no chance for me to reach any knot with my fingers. Then he rolled my on my side.
“Nice and tight, just the way you like it, buddy." Mr. Thomson said with his cigar clenched between his teeth.
Then I heard his doorbell ring...
“Not a chance, buddy. The gag stays on.” He said with a grin on his face. I grunted in disapproval.
“Hey, it was you who wanted to be tied up and gagged, so stop complaining.” He said in a rough voice, and added: “Besides, you’re doing a great job cleaning my jockstrap at the moment. And you know what? I have a lot more laundry to do, so I guess you’ll have to be gagged until your father returns.”
Now I was pissed off and started to struggle and shout through the gag. It was true that this whole stuff was my idea, but it didn’t mean that he could use me as some kind of a living washing machine. I thrashed furiously, looking angrily at Mr. Thomson, cursing him and demanding to be untied. But it just made him laugh at me; he was smoking his cigar calmly, waiting for me to settle don a bit.
“You done?” He asked and took a deep drag. I was panting heavily, but remained quiet.
“Good, then move.” He said, put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me.
When we reached the door he opened it and told me to get inside. I did as I was ordered and after a few steps we were in his basement. It was a really messy place filled with various building tools and stuff. I have never been there before so I kept looking around, while Mr. Thomson went upstairs to gather the rope and duct tape.
“You like this place, buddy? I hope you do, ‘cos you’re gonna stay here for a while. Now, I don’t know how long the poker game will last, but after we’re done up there, I’ll come here to feed you and have some fun with you. If you behave, that is.” He said and laughed.
“Now, enough of this. Turn around.” He added and put his cigar between his teeth.
I did as I was told and soon I felt Mr. Thomson forcing my elbows together and tying them together tightly. Next he bound my arms to my torso; he took a long coil of rope, tied one end to my left arm, wound the rope several times around my chest, then tied the loose end my the right arm. My arms were totally useless again.
“On the ground.” He said and helped me to lay down.
He used three coils of rope to bound my legs together at the angles, just below the knees, and the thighs. When he was done, he bent my legs, and used another piece of rope to connect my thighs to my ankles. Next, he tied my wrists to my ankles, effectively hogtying me, and making sure that there would be no chance for me to reach any knot with my fingers. Then he rolled my on my side.
“Nice and tight, just the way you like it, buddy." Mr. Thomson said with his cigar clenched between his teeth.
Then I heard his doorbell ring...
I was laying on my side in Mr. Thomson’s basement, tightly hogtied. My hands were bound behind my back at wrists and elbows, my knees were roped in three places, and the wrists were connected with a short coil of rope with my ankles. A gag, made of Mr. Thomson’s jockstrap and many layers of wide duct tape, prevented me from making too much noise.
While I was laying all trussed up like an animal my captor knelt beside me. I had a chance to watch his masculine silhouette, his muscle arms, his jeans, shirt, boots and belt; everything looked perfectly on him. The smell of his cigar, mixed with his own gentle scent made me feel a little dizzy. I wanted the moment to last for as long as possible… Unfortunately the doorbell made it impossible.
“Now excuse me, but I have guests to attend to.” Mr. Thomson said, took a deep drag on his cigar, blew the smoke out right into my face, stood up and left.
I looked at him walking to the door, shutting it and then I heard the door being locked from the other side. I was on my own now, completely tied up and gagged. The minute Mr. Thomson had left I tried to struggle and seize any knot. I wiggled as much as my bonds allowed, but nothing came loose, and the only effect of my squirming was a pool of sweat I was now laying in. I thought I might try my luck with the gag, do I scratched my head against the floor to create a little slack between the tape and my skin; again, all my efforts were futile. So now the only thing I could do was to wait, and I didn’t have to wait too long.
After a few more doorbells and what seemed like half an hour I heard the door to my prison being unlocked and a few guys went into the basement; the last one was that came into was Mr. Thomson. Each of his pals, five of them, roared with laughter when they saw me; two of them even took out their cell phones and took a picture of me. I tried to break through the bonds and shout through my gag, but all that came out was barely audible grunts; Mr. Thomson has made a nice and flawless gag.
“Holy shit, dude, you really did it!” One of them said. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, with a wide black belt, a black leather jacket and a casual shoes.
“His father is out of town and he asked me to take care of his son. So I did; I tell you guys, it’s a perfect way to keep him out of trouble.” Mr. Thomson answered with a huge grin on his face. It was obvious that he had much fun at the moment.
All of the guys came closer to me to examine my bonds. They rolled me from side to side, checked if I could reach the knots and if my circulatory was fine. One of them tried to tickle my ribs to find out how effective my gag was. I was extremely ticklish, so the second his fingers touched my ribs I started to trash wildly and scream, but the jockstrap in my mouth muffled it greatly.
“Fuck, man, you really don’t want him to get out.” Said one the guys after he had checked his buddies handwork.
“If you do something, do it right.” Mr. Thomson answered, put his cigar between his teeth and added: “You guys go upstairs and prepare our game. We’ll join you in a minute.”
When all of the guys disappeared behind the basement door, Mr. Thomson knelt beside me, rolled me on my side, grabbed my jaw and, looking directly at me, said:
“You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Well, I decided it would be a nice change in our poker game if, for once, we played for an award. And you know what? You’re gonna be the award. The guy who wins the game simply gets you for 24 hours. Any questions?”
I looked at him in disbelief. I was panting heavily and tried to say something, but the gag prevented me from saying anything understable. I stared at him while he was calmly puffing on his cigar.
“Now, I know that it’s not what you asked for, so if you want, you can simply refuse and go home.” He added with a smile on his face. I remained silent and didn’t move a muscle.
“I knew you’d agree. Besides, you didn’t tell me that you don’t want to be seen by other people.” Mr. Thomson added and started to undo the hogtie…
While I was laying all trussed up like an animal my captor knelt beside me. I had a chance to watch his masculine silhouette, his muscle arms, his jeans, shirt, boots and belt; everything looked perfectly on him. The smell of his cigar, mixed with his own gentle scent made me feel a little dizzy. I wanted the moment to last for as long as possible… Unfortunately the doorbell made it impossible.
“Now excuse me, but I have guests to attend to.” Mr. Thomson said, took a deep drag on his cigar, blew the smoke out right into my face, stood up and left.
I looked at him walking to the door, shutting it and then I heard the door being locked from the other side. I was on my own now, completely tied up and gagged. The minute Mr. Thomson had left I tried to struggle and seize any knot. I wiggled as much as my bonds allowed, but nothing came loose, and the only effect of my squirming was a pool of sweat I was now laying in. I thought I might try my luck with the gag, do I scratched my head against the floor to create a little slack between the tape and my skin; again, all my efforts were futile. So now the only thing I could do was to wait, and I didn’t have to wait too long.
After a few more doorbells and what seemed like half an hour I heard the door to my prison being unlocked and a few guys went into the basement; the last one was that came into was Mr. Thomson. Each of his pals, five of them, roared with laughter when they saw me; two of them even took out their cell phones and took a picture of me. I tried to break through the bonds and shout through my gag, but all that came out was barely audible grunts; Mr. Thomson has made a nice and flawless gag.
“Holy shit, dude, you really did it!” One of them said. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, with a wide black belt, a black leather jacket and a casual shoes.
“His father is out of town and he asked me to take care of his son. So I did; I tell you guys, it’s a perfect way to keep him out of trouble.” Mr. Thomson answered with a huge grin on his face. It was obvious that he had much fun at the moment.
All of the guys came closer to me to examine my bonds. They rolled me from side to side, checked if I could reach the knots and if my circulatory was fine. One of them tried to tickle my ribs to find out how effective my gag was. I was extremely ticklish, so the second his fingers touched my ribs I started to trash wildly and scream, but the jockstrap in my mouth muffled it greatly.
“Fuck, man, you really don’t want him to get out.” Said one the guys after he had checked his buddies handwork.
“If you do something, do it right.” Mr. Thomson answered, put his cigar between his teeth and added: “You guys go upstairs and prepare our game. We’ll join you in a minute.”
When all of the guys disappeared behind the basement door, Mr. Thomson knelt beside me, rolled me on my side, grabbed my jaw and, looking directly at me, said:
“You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Well, I decided it would be a nice change in our poker game if, for once, we played for an award. And you know what? You’re gonna be the award. The guy who wins the game simply gets you for 24 hours. Any questions?”
I looked at him in disbelief. I was panting heavily and tried to say something, but the gag prevented me from saying anything understable. I stared at him while he was calmly puffing on his cigar.
“Now, I know that it’s not what you asked for, so if you want, you can simply refuse and go home.” He added with a smile on his face. I remained silent and didn’t move a muscle.
“I knew you’d agree. Besides, you didn’t tell me that you don’t want to be seen by other people.” Mr. Thomson added and started to undo the hogtie…
I was laying in Mr. Thomson’s basement waiting for my neighbor to undo my hogtie. I could hardly believe what was going on; he and his poker buddies decided I would be an award in their game. The winner would simply own me for 24 hours, like I was a slave or something. The more I was thinking about this whole situation, the less I liked it and the more frustrated I became. I couldn’t allow them to put their sick plan into effect, so the moment Mr. Thomson released me from my hogtie, I started to thrash like wild animal and shout through the gag. I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to be tied any more, tried to ask him to untie, but it all came out as completely unintelligible grunts.
“Stop squirming, kiddo. It’s not gonna work.” He said calmly with his cigar between his teeth.
But I didn’t; the line has been crossed and I was now in rage. Nothing Mr. Thomson would say or do could make me calm down; I was rolling from side to side, wiggling my fingers in a futile attempt to reach any knot, kicking the air with my bound legs and making as much noise as my thick gag would allow.
“Fuck, if you don’ stop, I’ll make it far worse for you.” I heard Mr. Thomson say, but I didn’t pay any attention to him at the moment; I was entirely focused on my attempts to break the bonds free.
“Fucking moron, if you want it the hard way, then so be it.” He said angrily and shouted: “Jeff, Frank! Help me with this little brat here, would you?”
They appeared almost immediately; Jeff was about 190cm tall, well built, short blond hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a casual T-shirt and black jeans with a wide brown belt. He had taken his shoes off, so now he was only in his black ankle socks. And Frank occurred to be the guy in the leather jack; now he also was smoking a cigar.
“It seems he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to be tied up anymore.” Frank said.
“Doesn’t matter what he wants. When I win this asshole, he’ll regret..” He said in a stern voice.
“You wish…” Mr. Thomson answered and added: “Let’s get this fucker upstairs and strap him to some chair.”
The three of them grabbed me and stood me up; Jeff was holding me by my arms firmly, while Mr. Thomson was untying my legs. I was still shouting into my gag, so Frank came close to me, slapped me painfully in my face and said:
“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’ll make you pay….” He said in an ice cold voice. I gulped and calmed down a bit.
“Good, now move your ass.” He added when my legs were finally free.
I climbed up the stairs and after a few moments I was in Mr. Thomson’s living room again. The other guys had already prepared everything for the game; the card table was ready for them to begin and on a small table by the wall there were bottles of whisky, vodka and other alcohols. In fact, two of the guys already had glasses with some sort of drinks in their hands.
“Now, be a good boy and sit. Or else…” I heard Frank say and I did as I was told. I understood that I couldn’t stand a chance against six adult guys, so I decided that the best thing to do was to wait for an opportunity to escape.
“Frank, Ron, tie his legs to the legs of the chair and I’ll take care of his hands.” Mr. Thomson said.
I was watching as the guys were binding me; Ron seemed to be a nice guy; he was about 180cm tall, had a one-day growth, green eyes and dark black short hair. He was wearing a brown sweatshirt and sweatpants.
When my legs were finally secured to the legs of the chair I felt Mr. Thomson undo the bonds on my hands. I didn’t have much time to enjoy ma part-freedom, because Frank and Ron grabbed my arms immediately and put them on the armrests of the chair. Then they started to fasten them to the armrest with two coils of rope; they went from the wrists up to the elbows. When they cinched the knots, my arms were totally useless for me.
“Man, what the hell did you gag him with?” Asked Ron when he taking care of my left arm and looked at my taped face more closely.
“Just my jockstrap. I’d been wearing it for some time, and even shot my load in them once or twice, so I guess they need some extra cleaning.” Mr. Thomson answered. I cast him an angry look; the taste in my mouth became suddenly even more bitter than before.
“George, give me a long coil of rope and a duct tape. I wanna make sure this fucking brat won’t cause us any trouble.” Frank said when he was done with my right arm.
Mr. Thomson did as he was asked; Frank took his cigar between his teeth and went behind me. I saw him wound the rope around my torso and the back of the chair, tightening it after each wrap, pinning me to the chair surprisingly well. He then took the duct tape, unwound some, and started to tape my fingers together and then to the armrest. Now I was truly helpless, but Frank wasn’t done yet. He went behind me again and wrapped more duct tape over my already gagged face, smoothing it after each wrap.
“Just saw the adhesive loosen a bit. This little fucker just got what he asked for.” He said when he was finally satisfied with my binding, took a deep drag on his cigar and blew the smoke right into my face. I remained silent; he just smirked, slapped me and walked away to his seat.
“Let’s move him to the table, so he can see who his new Master will be.” Suggested one of the guys whom I didn’t yet know by name.
They agreed and soon the seven of us were sitting beside the table. The game was about to begin…
“Stop squirming, kiddo. It’s not gonna work.” He said calmly with his cigar between his teeth.
But I didn’t; the line has been crossed and I was now in rage. Nothing Mr. Thomson would say or do could make me calm down; I was rolling from side to side, wiggling my fingers in a futile attempt to reach any knot, kicking the air with my bound legs and making as much noise as my thick gag would allow.
“Fuck, if you don’ stop, I’ll make it far worse for you.” I heard Mr. Thomson say, but I didn’t pay any attention to him at the moment; I was entirely focused on my attempts to break the bonds free.
“Fucking moron, if you want it the hard way, then so be it.” He said angrily and shouted: “Jeff, Frank! Help me with this little brat here, would you?”
They appeared almost immediately; Jeff was about 190cm tall, well built, short blond hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a casual T-shirt and black jeans with a wide brown belt. He had taken his shoes off, so now he was only in his black ankle socks. And Frank occurred to be the guy in the leather jack; now he also was smoking a cigar.
“It seems he’s changed his mind and doesn’t want to be tied up anymore.” Frank said.
“Doesn’t matter what he wants. When I win this asshole, he’ll regret..” He said in a stern voice.
“You wish…” Mr. Thomson answered and added: “Let’s get this fucker upstairs and strap him to some chair.”
The three of them grabbed me and stood me up; Jeff was holding me by my arms firmly, while Mr. Thomson was untying my legs. I was still shouting into my gag, so Frank came close to me, slapped me painfully in my face and said:
“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’ll make you pay….” He said in an ice cold voice. I gulped and calmed down a bit.
“Good, now move your ass.” He added when my legs were finally free.
I climbed up the stairs and after a few moments I was in Mr. Thomson’s living room again. The other guys had already prepared everything for the game; the card table was ready for them to begin and on a small table by the wall there were bottles of whisky, vodka and other alcohols. In fact, two of the guys already had glasses with some sort of drinks in their hands.
“Now, be a good boy and sit. Or else…” I heard Frank say and I did as I was told. I understood that I couldn’t stand a chance against six adult guys, so I decided that the best thing to do was to wait for an opportunity to escape.
“Frank, Ron, tie his legs to the legs of the chair and I’ll take care of his hands.” Mr. Thomson said.
I was watching as the guys were binding me; Ron seemed to be a nice guy; he was about 180cm tall, had a one-day growth, green eyes and dark black short hair. He was wearing a brown sweatshirt and sweatpants.
When my legs were finally secured to the legs of the chair I felt Mr. Thomson undo the bonds on my hands. I didn’t have much time to enjoy ma part-freedom, because Frank and Ron grabbed my arms immediately and put them on the armrests of the chair. Then they started to fasten them to the armrest with two coils of rope; they went from the wrists up to the elbows. When they cinched the knots, my arms were totally useless for me.
“Man, what the hell did you gag him with?” Asked Ron when he taking care of my left arm and looked at my taped face more closely.
“Just my jockstrap. I’d been wearing it for some time, and even shot my load in them once or twice, so I guess they need some extra cleaning.” Mr. Thomson answered. I cast him an angry look; the taste in my mouth became suddenly even more bitter than before.
“George, give me a long coil of rope and a duct tape. I wanna make sure this fucking brat won’t cause us any trouble.” Frank said when he was done with my right arm.
Mr. Thomson did as he was asked; Frank took his cigar between his teeth and went behind me. I saw him wound the rope around my torso and the back of the chair, tightening it after each wrap, pinning me to the chair surprisingly well. He then took the duct tape, unwound some, and started to tape my fingers together and then to the armrest. Now I was truly helpless, but Frank wasn’t done yet. He went behind me again and wrapped more duct tape over my already gagged face, smoothing it after each wrap.
“Just saw the adhesive loosen a bit. This little fucker just got what he asked for.” He said when he was finally satisfied with my binding, took a deep drag on his cigar and blew the smoke right into my face. I remained silent; he just smirked, slapped me and walked away to his seat.
“Let’s move him to the table, so he can see who his new Master will be.” Suggested one of the guys whom I didn’t yet know by name.
They agreed and soon the seven of us were sitting beside the table. The game was about to begin…
After Mr. Thomson and Ron had moved the chair I was bound to towards the table, the game began. The whole situation was sort of ridiculous. My neighbor and his buddies were about to have their usual poker game and, to make it more exciting, I was supposed to be the award. They agreed that the winner would simply own me for the next 24 hours, like I was a slave or something.
My arms, legs and torso were tightly tied to the chair I was sitting in, and the only part of my body I could move was my head. I couldn’t even speak, because I was gagged with Mr. Thomson’s sweaty jockstrap and lots of wraps of duct tape. One of his pals, Frank, took care of that. He seemed to be the meanest of them all; I prayed silently he wouldn’t win.
I was now gagged for several hours so I it started to be a bit painful and uncomfortable. Besides I was hungry and thirsty. I tried to talk to Jeff, who was sitting to my left, but all my attempts to attract his attention were fruitless. I began to struggle and squirm again; at first nobody paid attention to that, but after some shouting through the gag Jeff turned his head to me.
“I’d stay still if I were you. If you don’t, we’ll make your predicament a lot more severe. I’m sure Frank would be delighted to use his heavy belt on your ass…” He said in a cold voice.
I looked at Frank and gulped. The guy was in a particularly good mood; his pile of poker chips was impressive. He had his cigar between his teeth and was gathering another chips from the table. When he spotted I was looking directly at him, a devilish smile appeared on his face. He took a deep drag on his cigar, blew out the smoke and licked his lips. He definitely wanted to win… and, what was worst, he was on the best way to do so.
I decided to calm down and wait to see what would happen. Throughout the game the guys seemed to take no notice of me; like having someone bound and gagged amongst them was something perfectly natural. However from time to time Mr. Thomson peeked at me to see If I was all right. I tried to give him a sign with my eyes that I have had enough and I wanted to be released, but, even if he understood me, he completely ignored it.
The game went on for several hours and long after it got dark it was about to be finished. Only Frank and one other guy had any poker chips left. Frank wasn’t so happy at that moment; he had lost some deals in a row and now his and his opponent’s piles were almost equal. The last deal would be crucial; who wins it, wins the whole game.
Everyone, including me, was extremely eager to know the results. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was panting heavily. I watched Frank reveal his hand: a full house, kings over queens. His head was covered in small bids of sweat and his hand was shaking a bit; God, the man wanted to win so much!
Now everyone’s eyes were turned to his opponent. The guy looked like he was a bit absent; he seemed not to take care about the whole poker game, and he didn’t say much during the evening. He was quite tall, something around 180cm, clean-shaved with short black hair. He was wearing only a light blue jeans with a military belt, and military shoes. Shortly after the poker had began he decided it was too hot, took off his grey T-shirt and he stayed that way.
It was time for him to reveal his hand. I was so curious that my eyes nearly popped out of my eye sockets. Finally I saw his cards: four sixes. A four of a kind! I let out a deep sigh of relief; Mr. Thomson and his buddies, even Frank, were congratulating the winner; all of them were now drinking, chatting and some of them were smoking. For a brief moment I thought that this whole ‘award thing’ was only a joke, some kind of a silly prank. Soon I found out I was mistaken.
“Now, it seems you’re all mine.” I heard the winner say.
I looked directly at him. He had the same distant look on his face; he came closer to me and for the first time looked more carefully at me. I remained silent and didn’t move a muscle. He kept examining my bonds for a few minutes and while he was doing it I saw that the other guys were gathering their stuff and prepared to leave. Suddenly my new owner put his hand on my shoulder.
“I suppose it’s time for me to decide what to do with you. So be it then. My first order is…”
My arms, legs and torso were tightly tied to the chair I was sitting in, and the only part of my body I could move was my head. I couldn’t even speak, because I was gagged with Mr. Thomson’s sweaty jockstrap and lots of wraps of duct tape. One of his pals, Frank, took care of that. He seemed to be the meanest of them all; I prayed silently he wouldn’t win.
I was now gagged for several hours so I it started to be a bit painful and uncomfortable. Besides I was hungry and thirsty. I tried to talk to Jeff, who was sitting to my left, but all my attempts to attract his attention were fruitless. I began to struggle and squirm again; at first nobody paid attention to that, but after some shouting through the gag Jeff turned his head to me.
“I’d stay still if I were you. If you don’t, we’ll make your predicament a lot more severe. I’m sure Frank would be delighted to use his heavy belt on your ass…” He said in a cold voice.
I looked at Frank and gulped. The guy was in a particularly good mood; his pile of poker chips was impressive. He had his cigar between his teeth and was gathering another chips from the table. When he spotted I was looking directly at him, a devilish smile appeared on his face. He took a deep drag on his cigar, blew out the smoke and licked his lips. He definitely wanted to win… and, what was worst, he was on the best way to do so.
I decided to calm down and wait to see what would happen. Throughout the game the guys seemed to take no notice of me; like having someone bound and gagged amongst them was something perfectly natural. However from time to time Mr. Thomson peeked at me to see If I was all right. I tried to give him a sign with my eyes that I have had enough and I wanted to be released, but, even if he understood me, he completely ignored it.
The game went on for several hours and long after it got dark it was about to be finished. Only Frank and one other guy had any poker chips left. Frank wasn’t so happy at that moment; he had lost some deals in a row and now his and his opponent’s piles were almost equal. The last deal would be crucial; who wins it, wins the whole game.
Everyone, including me, was extremely eager to know the results. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was panting heavily. I watched Frank reveal his hand: a full house, kings over queens. His head was covered in small bids of sweat and his hand was shaking a bit; God, the man wanted to win so much!
Now everyone’s eyes were turned to his opponent. The guy looked like he was a bit absent; he seemed not to take care about the whole poker game, and he didn’t say much during the evening. He was quite tall, something around 180cm, clean-shaved with short black hair. He was wearing only a light blue jeans with a military belt, and military shoes. Shortly after the poker had began he decided it was too hot, took off his grey T-shirt and he stayed that way.
It was time for him to reveal his hand. I was so curious that my eyes nearly popped out of my eye sockets. Finally I saw his cards: four sixes. A four of a kind! I let out a deep sigh of relief; Mr. Thomson and his buddies, even Frank, were congratulating the winner; all of them were now drinking, chatting and some of them were smoking. For a brief moment I thought that this whole ‘award thing’ was only a joke, some kind of a silly prank. Soon I found out I was mistaken.
“Now, it seems you’re all mine.” I heard the winner say.
I looked directly at him. He had the same distant look on his face; he came closer to me and for the first time looked more carefully at me. I remained silent and didn’t move a muscle. He kept examining my bonds for a few minutes and while he was doing it I saw that the other guys were gathering their stuff and prepared to leave. Suddenly my new owner put his hand on my shoulder.
“I suppose it’s time for me to decide what to do with you. So be it then. My first order is…”
Everyone in Mr. Thomson’s living room was waiting for the guy to give me his first order. I was tightly bound to a chair with rope and duct tape and he was standing next to me, with his hand on my shoulder. I was now supposed to be his trophy for winning a poker game with his buddies. Even the three guys, who were about to leave Mr. Thomson’s place, were anxious to see what would happen. But the guy just stood there, with a distant look on his face; like he didn’t know what to do, or how to behave. I must say I couldn’t blame him for that; not often one wins a teenager in a poker game.
“Oh come on, man, spit it out!” One of the leaving guys said impatiently.
“Well… I don’t know… I guess I don’t want him.” Came the reply after a short while.
I let out a deep sigh of relief. The whole sick situation was finally about to finish; the guys would leave and Mr. Thomson would untie me at last. I looked at them; they all seemed to be a little disappointed with my new owner’s decision, but couldn’t do anything about it. Soon some of the guys left, and I was left with Mr. Thomson, Frank, and the one who won me, but whom I didn’t know by the name.
“You know what, Frank?” I heard him say. I didn’t like the tone of his voice… “You take him.” He added.
Now, that wasn’t something I would expect. It was bad enough that Mr. Thomson humiliated me by making me an award in their poker game. But this?! When I cast a glance at Frank he looked really excited. He had a devilish look on his face, mixed with a hint of disbelief.
“You sure, Bill? You wanna give him to me?” Frank asked.
“I won him, so I can do whatever I want with him. And I have no time to play with him anyway, do I think it’s best if someone else gets him. Besides, I don’t like brats like him.” Came Bill’s answer. His voice was no longer distant; now it was stern and strong. As if two different people lived inside him.
“Fuck, man, awesome! You’re the best!” Frank said, totally excited.
I couldn’t believe my ears; I was so close to the end of this shit, and now I was supposed to be a prisoner to that Frank! I absolutely hated the idea of being his toy, and I definitely wanted to show him my discontent. I began to shout through my gag and struggle to free myself. But being tied up the way I was made all my efforts futile; the only result of my squirming was new bids of sweat on my forehead. And what was worse, neither of the guys paid attention to me.
“Struggle all you want, kiddo. I have a perfect way to calm you down. Just sit and wait a while.” Frank said and I didn’t like what he said.
He, Mr. Thomson and Bill chatted for another few minutes and soon my former owner said goodbye and left. I was alone with my neighbor and his pal from work. I was tired of all the struggling, and I wanted to be untied; I needed to use the bathroom and I was getting really hungry. I tried to plead with my eyes and made muffled grunts, but the guys ignored me completely. I saw them whispering about something, and soon Mr. Thomson went to another room. Frank came closer to me.
“We’re gonna have so much fun together, kiddo. Well, at least I am.” He said with an evil grin on his face and added: “Now, you understand, that I hate spoilt and unruly brats, so I have to make sure you behave properly.”
I looked Frank in the eyes; I was really scared. Then I heard Mr. Thomson came back, holding something in his hand.
“I found it.” He said and gave it to Frank. It was a cell phone.
“Now, let’s have a little photo session, shall we?” Frank said and took a picture of me.
Again, that was something beyond belief. That asshole was photographing me, God knows for what purpose! It really made me angry and I started to struggle and squirm. Again. And again Mr. Thomson’s bonds were too tight and I could do nothing. While I was tussling with the rope and tape Frank was taking more and more photos from different angles. He was laughing nearly all the time.
“Time for the next step, George. You have the shoe?” Frank asked after a while.
“And the tape to fix it.” Mr. Thomson replied; I could tell he was enjoying himself as well.
“Awesome, dude!” I heard the reply.
Frank took the supplies from his buddy, came to me and sat on my thighs. He took the shoe, a normal cleat, and forced it to my face! Now I had to smell the intense smell from inside the shoe. I tried to move my head, but it was no good. Frank unwound some duct tape from the roll with his teeth and soon he was taping the shoe to my face. When he was done I tried to shake my head to get rid of the cleat, but the tape held it firmly. God, what a humiliation!
“Nice work, man. I hope he likes the stench; I’ve been jogging in this for some time now.” I heard Mr. Thomson say and they both laughed.
Frank took some more photos with the cell phone and then they took the shoe from my face. I was looking at them with fury and disgust. They ignored me.
“Now, stage three.” Frank said.
He unzipped my jeans and took my penis out! I looked at him, totally surprised and scared. I tried to tell him to stop, to put it back, but the gag was really good, and all my pleads came out as unintelligible squeaks. Frank took another set of photos, and, to my great relief, he put my penis back and zipped the jeans up again.
“Now, the last step.” He said.
He and Mr. Thomson laid the chair I was tied to on the floor. I was now looking directly at the ceiling. I was wondering what would happen; soon I found out. Frank stood over me and put his right booted foot on my chest, like I was his prey after the hunting. He had his cigar between his teeth and his arms were folded on his chest. Mr. Thomson took even more photos. After they were satisfied with the amount of photos they had taken they put the chair back on its legs.
“I told you I don’t like spoilt kids. So here is the deal.” I heard Frank speak again.
“I’m gonna turn this phone off and put it into your jeans pocket. If you don’t cause any trouble, after your slavery time I’ll give you the pin number to it and you’ll delete all the photos we’ve just made. If you disobey any order, or try something stupid, I’ll send the pictures to some people: your girlfriend, your buddies, your father. I doubt they would be happy to see you, trussed up like this.” He said.
He did as he told me and he took the phone off. Then he put it into my front jeans pocket and took the duct tape. He ripped long pieces and taped the pocket shut to make sure the phone doesn’t slip out.
“George, help me get him ready. It’s late and I should go back home.” Frank said. I looked at my neighbor and pleaded with my eyes again. Nothing.
They untied from the chair and made me stand. I moved my arms to my face to get rid of the gag, but Frank forced them immediately behind my back and began to tie them, wrists crossed. Next, he tied my elbows together and bound my arms to me chest.
“Move.” I heard Mr. Thomson say as he pushed me.
We went to the garage, where Frank’s car was. He opened the trunk and waited for his buddy to finish tying my legs together. After my ankles and thighs were wrapped with rope they put me in the trunk. Before they shut it they had hogtied me very tightly. I whimpered but it only made them smirk. Soon they shook hands and I saw Mr. Thomson walk away. Frank leaned over me.
“Now, fucker, you’re all mine.” He said and slapped me hard on my face and added: “See you in some time, you fucking brat.”
Then I heard the trunk being shut….
“Oh come on, man, spit it out!” One of the leaving guys said impatiently.
“Well… I don’t know… I guess I don’t want him.” Came the reply after a short while.
I let out a deep sigh of relief. The whole sick situation was finally about to finish; the guys would leave and Mr. Thomson would untie me at last. I looked at them; they all seemed to be a little disappointed with my new owner’s decision, but couldn’t do anything about it. Soon some of the guys left, and I was left with Mr. Thomson, Frank, and the one who won me, but whom I didn’t know by the name.
“You know what, Frank?” I heard him say. I didn’t like the tone of his voice… “You take him.” He added.
Now, that wasn’t something I would expect. It was bad enough that Mr. Thomson humiliated me by making me an award in their poker game. But this?! When I cast a glance at Frank he looked really excited. He had a devilish look on his face, mixed with a hint of disbelief.
“You sure, Bill? You wanna give him to me?” Frank asked.
“I won him, so I can do whatever I want with him. And I have no time to play with him anyway, do I think it’s best if someone else gets him. Besides, I don’t like brats like him.” Came Bill’s answer. His voice was no longer distant; now it was stern and strong. As if two different people lived inside him.
“Fuck, man, awesome! You’re the best!” Frank said, totally excited.
I couldn’t believe my ears; I was so close to the end of this shit, and now I was supposed to be a prisoner to that Frank! I absolutely hated the idea of being his toy, and I definitely wanted to show him my discontent. I began to shout through my gag and struggle to free myself. But being tied up the way I was made all my efforts futile; the only result of my squirming was new bids of sweat on my forehead. And what was worse, neither of the guys paid attention to me.
“Struggle all you want, kiddo. I have a perfect way to calm you down. Just sit and wait a while.” Frank said and I didn’t like what he said.
He, Mr. Thomson and Bill chatted for another few minutes and soon my former owner said goodbye and left. I was alone with my neighbor and his pal from work. I was tired of all the struggling, and I wanted to be untied; I needed to use the bathroom and I was getting really hungry. I tried to plead with my eyes and made muffled grunts, but the guys ignored me completely. I saw them whispering about something, and soon Mr. Thomson went to another room. Frank came closer to me.
“We’re gonna have so much fun together, kiddo. Well, at least I am.” He said with an evil grin on his face and added: “Now, you understand, that I hate spoilt and unruly brats, so I have to make sure you behave properly.”
I looked Frank in the eyes; I was really scared. Then I heard Mr. Thomson came back, holding something in his hand.
“I found it.” He said and gave it to Frank. It was a cell phone.
“Now, let’s have a little photo session, shall we?” Frank said and took a picture of me.
Again, that was something beyond belief. That asshole was photographing me, God knows for what purpose! It really made me angry and I started to struggle and squirm. Again. And again Mr. Thomson’s bonds were too tight and I could do nothing. While I was tussling with the rope and tape Frank was taking more and more photos from different angles. He was laughing nearly all the time.
“Time for the next step, George. You have the shoe?” Frank asked after a while.
“And the tape to fix it.” Mr. Thomson replied; I could tell he was enjoying himself as well.
“Awesome, dude!” I heard the reply.
Frank took the supplies from his buddy, came to me and sat on my thighs. He took the shoe, a normal cleat, and forced it to my face! Now I had to smell the intense smell from inside the shoe. I tried to move my head, but it was no good. Frank unwound some duct tape from the roll with his teeth and soon he was taping the shoe to my face. When he was done I tried to shake my head to get rid of the cleat, but the tape held it firmly. God, what a humiliation!
“Nice work, man. I hope he likes the stench; I’ve been jogging in this for some time now.” I heard Mr. Thomson say and they both laughed.
Frank took some more photos with the cell phone and then they took the shoe from my face. I was looking at them with fury and disgust. They ignored me.
“Now, stage three.” Frank said.
He unzipped my jeans and took my penis out! I looked at him, totally surprised and scared. I tried to tell him to stop, to put it back, but the gag was really good, and all my pleads came out as unintelligible squeaks. Frank took another set of photos, and, to my great relief, he put my penis back and zipped the jeans up again.
“Now, the last step.” He said.
He and Mr. Thomson laid the chair I was tied to on the floor. I was now looking directly at the ceiling. I was wondering what would happen; soon I found out. Frank stood over me and put his right booted foot on my chest, like I was his prey after the hunting. He had his cigar between his teeth and his arms were folded on his chest. Mr. Thomson took even more photos. After they were satisfied with the amount of photos they had taken they put the chair back on its legs.
“I told you I don’t like spoilt kids. So here is the deal.” I heard Frank speak again.
“I’m gonna turn this phone off and put it into your jeans pocket. If you don’t cause any trouble, after your slavery time I’ll give you the pin number to it and you’ll delete all the photos we’ve just made. If you disobey any order, or try something stupid, I’ll send the pictures to some people: your girlfriend, your buddies, your father. I doubt they would be happy to see you, trussed up like this.” He said.
He did as he told me and he took the phone off. Then he put it into my front jeans pocket and took the duct tape. He ripped long pieces and taped the pocket shut to make sure the phone doesn’t slip out.
“George, help me get him ready. It’s late and I should go back home.” Frank said. I looked at my neighbor and pleaded with my eyes again. Nothing.
They untied from the chair and made me stand. I moved my arms to my face to get rid of the gag, but Frank forced them immediately behind my back and began to tie them, wrists crossed. Next, he tied my elbows together and bound my arms to me chest.
“Move.” I heard Mr. Thomson say as he pushed me.
We went to the garage, where Frank’s car was. He opened the trunk and waited for his buddy to finish tying my legs together. After my ankles and thighs were wrapped with rope they put me in the trunk. Before they shut it they had hogtied me very tightly. I whimpered but it only made them smirk. Soon they shook hands and I saw Mr. Thomson walk away. Frank leaned over me.
“Now, fucker, you’re all mine.” He said and slapped me hard on my face and added: “See you in some time, you fucking brat.”
Then I heard the trunk being shut….
After Frank shut the trunk of his car imprisoning me inside, I heard him unlock the door and get in. Soon he started the engine and a few moments later I felt the car move. It was a weird feeling: I was bound, gagged, helpless on some other guy’s mercy. I have always dreamt about being tied up by someone, but I’ve hoped that it would be done by someone I know and trust. And now I was on my way to be a slave to some dude I have never met before.
At the very same moment Frank shut the trunk I tried as best as I could to wiggle out of my bonds, or at least to loosen them a bit. Not a chance; he and my neighbor did a very good job tying me. The bonds were tight and secure, and the knots were far beyond the reach of my fingers. Nevertheless I kept struggling and grunting into my thick gag, but all I achieved was some sweat.
At last I gave up and decided to wait and see what would happen. I assumed that I would need all my strength later so I just laid there, trying to rest a little. Of course, it’s not easy to rest or relax when you are hogtied and have a cum stained jockstrap in your mouth, but I had to do my best.
We drove for some time, but I had no idea for how long exactly; it could be an hour or a quarter. Finally we stopped and I heard Frank open the garage; drove in and close it. When he opened the trunk and I looked at him he had a huge smile on his face. He was obviously delighted by the whole situation. I grunted and made some unintelligible sounds through my gag, but it only made his smile even bigger.
“Fuck, this is gonna be a great weekend, kiddo.” He said and leaned forward to me to undo the hogtie.
When he was done and I could stretch my legs I let out a sigh of relief. Frank grabbed me by my shoulders and helped he out of the trunk. He shut it down and placed my bound body on his shoulder, as if I was a sack of potatoes or something.
We went up from the garage to his living room, and then to one of the rooms in the other side of the house. When we entered I saw there was bed, a small table, a desk with computer on it, and a wheelchair. It figured it must have been his home office. Frank made me sit on the bed, stood over my with his both hands on my shoulder and said:
“Now listen, asshole. I’m gonna take the gag off and feed you. If you struggle, squirm, shout or even speak one word, I’ll make you regret it. Is that clear?”
I looked him in the eye; there was no sympathy in them. I had no choice and nodded my head.
“Good. Remember: one word or false move and you’re gonna pay.” He replied and moved to take the gag off.
First he unwound the tape that went from below my chin to the top of my head, then he took care of the strips that were over my mouth. When he tore off the last piece of duct tape and I was finally able to spit out my neighbor’s jockstrap I was more than happy. My jaw ached a little, but the most important thing for me at the time was that the gag was out. Frank told me not to move and left the room, locking the door behind him. I was too afraid to do anything so I just sat there and waited for him to return.
A few minutes later I heard the door unlock and Frank came in with a bowl in one hand and a gym bag in the other. As soon as I saw steam over the bowl I remembered how hungry I was. I gulped loudly and prayed silently that whatever was in that bowl, was for me.
“Seems to me you’re hungry, kiddo. Open up.” He commanded and I complied willingly.
Frank fed me with a hot porridge and for the first time since I have met him, I was grateful to him. He kept feeding me until I have eaten everything and then put the empty bowl on the desk.
“Now, sit on the bed with your legs on it.” He ordered.
I watched him open the gym bag and took two coils of rope out of it. He placed them on the bed, took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. A familiar smell of smoke filled my nostrils. Frank put it between his teeth and came to me.
“I’ll untie your hands now. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll remain still and do as I say.” He said.
We both knew at that time that I actually had no choice but to comply. So I watched as he tied one coil of rope to my left wrist, and the other coil to the right one. Then he made me lay down on the bed on my back, and tied the loose ends of the rope to the corners above my head. Then he did the same thing to my legs. By the time he was done I was stretched on his bed in an x position with very little possibilities to move.
“Comfortable?” He asked and took a deep drag on his cigar and added: “Sorry kid, but I have to make sure you won’t cause any trouble, so open your mouth.”
I knew perfectly well what he intended so I shook my head violently and tried to plead with him with my eyes. It was useless; Frank grabbed my jaw and forced it open. He pushed some wet material behind my teeth; God, the taste was horrible. When the whole gag was inside my mouth, Frank took a roll of extra wide duct tape from his bag and tore a piece. He placed it over my mouth. Next he put my baseball cap back on my head and wound the tape several times from the top of my head to below my chin. My jaw was clamped again. Then he plastered an unwound piece of tape over my mouth and went all the way behind my back six times, making sure the gag was flawless.
“Nice and quiet. If you’re wondering, I’ve just put a fresh spit and cum drenched jockstrap in there.”He pointed at my mouth and added: “While the porridge was getting ready I found my old jockstrap and… let’s say that I juiced it up a little. And I added some of my saliva to give it a special taste of a masculine guy. Hope you like it asshole.”
When the meaning of his words came to me I got furious. I squirmed and struggled with all strength I had in me, but the ropes didn’t allow me for much. Frank watched me thrash like wild animal and smoked his cigar calmly. When I got exhausted and calmed down a bit he said:
“I know you like it. In fact, I have something more for you.”
I looked at him in disbelief. He reached for his bag and took out an old cleat. Even from my position I could tell it was filthy and sweaty. Frank open it and placed it right over my face forcing my nose inside his training cleat. I inhaled his sweat and odor from the shoe and almost puked. It was the most disgusting thing I have aver smelled. I heard Frank tear off a piece of duct tape and soon I had the cleat taped to my face nice and tight. I moaned and grunted but it only made Frank laugh.
“Fuck, this is awesome! Sleep well kiddo and enjoy your new Master’s scent.” He said and went out of the room. I heard him lock the door.
What the fuck did I get myself into?!
At the very same moment Frank shut the trunk I tried as best as I could to wiggle out of my bonds, or at least to loosen them a bit. Not a chance; he and my neighbor did a very good job tying me. The bonds were tight and secure, and the knots were far beyond the reach of my fingers. Nevertheless I kept struggling and grunting into my thick gag, but all I achieved was some sweat.
At last I gave up and decided to wait and see what would happen. I assumed that I would need all my strength later so I just laid there, trying to rest a little. Of course, it’s not easy to rest or relax when you are hogtied and have a cum stained jockstrap in your mouth, but I had to do my best.
We drove for some time, but I had no idea for how long exactly; it could be an hour or a quarter. Finally we stopped and I heard Frank open the garage; drove in and close it. When he opened the trunk and I looked at him he had a huge smile on his face. He was obviously delighted by the whole situation. I grunted and made some unintelligible sounds through my gag, but it only made his smile even bigger.
“Fuck, this is gonna be a great weekend, kiddo.” He said and leaned forward to me to undo the hogtie.
When he was done and I could stretch my legs I let out a sigh of relief. Frank grabbed me by my shoulders and helped he out of the trunk. He shut it down and placed my bound body on his shoulder, as if I was a sack of potatoes or something.
We went up from the garage to his living room, and then to one of the rooms in the other side of the house. When we entered I saw there was bed, a small table, a desk with computer on it, and a wheelchair. It figured it must have been his home office. Frank made me sit on the bed, stood over my with his both hands on my shoulder and said:
“Now listen, asshole. I’m gonna take the gag off and feed you. If you struggle, squirm, shout or even speak one word, I’ll make you regret it. Is that clear?”
I looked him in the eye; there was no sympathy in them. I had no choice and nodded my head.
“Good. Remember: one word or false move and you’re gonna pay.” He replied and moved to take the gag off.
First he unwound the tape that went from below my chin to the top of my head, then he took care of the strips that were over my mouth. When he tore off the last piece of duct tape and I was finally able to spit out my neighbor’s jockstrap I was more than happy. My jaw ached a little, but the most important thing for me at the time was that the gag was out. Frank told me not to move and left the room, locking the door behind him. I was too afraid to do anything so I just sat there and waited for him to return.
A few minutes later I heard the door unlock and Frank came in with a bowl in one hand and a gym bag in the other. As soon as I saw steam over the bowl I remembered how hungry I was. I gulped loudly and prayed silently that whatever was in that bowl, was for me.
“Seems to me you’re hungry, kiddo. Open up.” He commanded and I complied willingly.
Frank fed me with a hot porridge and for the first time since I have met him, I was grateful to him. He kept feeding me until I have eaten everything and then put the empty bowl on the desk.
“Now, sit on the bed with your legs on it.” He ordered.
I watched him open the gym bag and took two coils of rope out of it. He placed them on the bed, took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it. A familiar smell of smoke filled my nostrils. Frank put it between his teeth and came to me.
“I’ll untie your hands now. But if you know what’s good for you, you’ll remain still and do as I say.” He said.
We both knew at that time that I actually had no choice but to comply. So I watched as he tied one coil of rope to my left wrist, and the other coil to the right one. Then he made me lay down on the bed on my back, and tied the loose ends of the rope to the corners above my head. Then he did the same thing to my legs. By the time he was done I was stretched on his bed in an x position with very little possibilities to move.
“Comfortable?” He asked and took a deep drag on his cigar and added: “Sorry kid, but I have to make sure you won’t cause any trouble, so open your mouth.”
I knew perfectly well what he intended so I shook my head violently and tried to plead with him with my eyes. It was useless; Frank grabbed my jaw and forced it open. He pushed some wet material behind my teeth; God, the taste was horrible. When the whole gag was inside my mouth, Frank took a roll of extra wide duct tape from his bag and tore a piece. He placed it over my mouth. Next he put my baseball cap back on my head and wound the tape several times from the top of my head to below my chin. My jaw was clamped again. Then he plastered an unwound piece of tape over my mouth and went all the way behind my back six times, making sure the gag was flawless.
“Nice and quiet. If you’re wondering, I’ve just put a fresh spit and cum drenched jockstrap in there.”He pointed at my mouth and added: “While the porridge was getting ready I found my old jockstrap and… let’s say that I juiced it up a little. And I added some of my saliva to give it a special taste of a masculine guy. Hope you like it asshole.”
When the meaning of his words came to me I got furious. I squirmed and struggled with all strength I had in me, but the ropes didn’t allow me for much. Frank watched me thrash like wild animal and smoked his cigar calmly. When I got exhausted and calmed down a bit he said:
“I know you like it. In fact, I have something more for you.”
I looked at him in disbelief. He reached for his bag and took out an old cleat. Even from my position I could tell it was filthy and sweaty. Frank open it and placed it right over my face forcing my nose inside his training cleat. I inhaled his sweat and odor from the shoe and almost puked. It was the most disgusting thing I have aver smelled. I heard Frank tear off a piece of duct tape and soon I had the cleat taped to my face nice and tight. I moaned and grunted but it only made Frank laugh.
“Fuck, this is awesome! Sleep well kiddo and enjoy your new Master’s scent.” He said and went out of the room. I heard him lock the door.
What the fuck did I get myself into?!
The minute Frank left the room I started to struggle again, but there was little I could do about my predicament. My arms and were tied to four corners of the bed I was lying on, and a little while before I had been cruelly gagged. My captor put his cum and saliva soaked into my mouth and secured it with several wraps around my head, making it impossible for me to spit the gag out. What was even more frustrating, he taped his old cleat to my face, forcing me to breathe through it; with every single breath I had to inhale his sweat. Of course I tried to shake my head to get rid of the damned shoe, but the tape held it firmly. After some time I finally gave up and calmed a little bit. Soon I dozed off.
I was awoken several hours later by the sound of the door being unlocked. A few moments later I heard Frank open it and enter the room. I started to moan to attract his attention, but he seemed to pay no attention to my pleas. I felt him sit on the bed and reach to my face; he told me not to move and cut the duct tape securing his cleat off. When he removed the cursed shoe I was finally able to breathe fresh air, which I did gladly.
I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the bright sunlight; it was a nice and sunny Saturday morning. When I got used to the light I looked at Frank. He was still sitting on the bed looking at me with his cold eyes. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a cowboy belt, and a grey T-shirt. He had sunglasses, too. I tried to ask him to remove my gag, but he just smirked.
“Hope you slept well, kiddo. We’re gonna spend some time together, so let’s settle some rules now, ok boy?” He asked. I did nothing but stared at him.
“So, the rules are as follows: I’m your Master now, so you’ll address me as ‘Sir’ every time I ask you a question. When the gag is off, you’re not allowed to speak unless spoken to. You’ll obey my orders to the detail and if you don’t to as I say you’ll get punished. For the first disobedience I’ll spank you five times with my belt. With every next disobedience I’ll double the number of smacks, so I’d be careful if I were you. And if I see you try to even touch the phone in your pocket I’ll make a good use of those photos. Understood?” He finally asked and waited for my response.
I couldn’t believe it; that sick bastard really wanted to make me his slave! I kept staring at him; after a while Frank added something more:
“And if you don’t agree to the rules, I’ll simply keep you here until Sunday evening. Bound and gagged, with nothing to eat and drink. Now, I know that this isn’t something you expected, but what the hell! You’re in no position to do anything about it, are you kiddo?” He smiled and added:
“So, do you agree to the rules?”
I thought for a while; being left alone and not having to deal with that asshole was extremely tempting. On the other hand, I was sick of having his jockstrap in my mouth, and, what was even more important to me, I was getting really hungry and thirsty. So after considering all the pros and cons I slowly nodded my head.
“Yeah, I knew you would agree.” He said.
I was hoping that he would now remove the gag, but instead I saw him reach to the back pocket in his jeans and take a pair of handcuffs out. Where the hell did he get that?! I watched him put the cuff on my left wrist. Then he untied my both hands from the bedposts and cuffed them in front. When he let go of them I moved them to my face to get rid of the gag, but Frank grabbed my hands with his left hand and my jaw with the other. He
“Don’t you even dare to touch that, fucker. I decide if, and when to take it off. Do you understand?!” He yelled at me and I nodded my head.
“Good. Now stand still.” He barked.
I tried to calm down when Frank was untying my legs from the bed. When he was done he ordered me to stand up and follow him. I complied and soon we were in his kitchen. Frank sat in the chair and took a cigar from a drawer and cut the tip. I watched him as he put the cigar between his teeth and lit it; he dragged a few times and blew the smoke out.
“Here is your breakfast.” He said pointing at a plate with four sandwiches on it. I gulped and begand walking towards the plate when I heard:
“ Not now! First you must do the washing up.”
I turned my head towards the sink; there was a pile of dirty plates, glasses, cups, forks ,etc, etc. I moaned into my gag, which caused Frank to laugh. He was obviously enjoying the situation. Resigned, I
plodded on to the sink. While I was washing the dishes Frank was smoking lazily and from time to time he looked at me with delight.
“Come here, sit in the chair.” Frank said when I was finally done. It took me about half an hour to clean everything.
He took the handcuffs off and told me to put my hands around the back of the chair, where he recuffed them. Ha took a coil of rope from the drawer and tied my legs together at my ankles. With another piece he bound my calves. Next, he took yet another coil and tied it to my ankles, went behind the chair and tied the loose end to my cuffed wrists. I was now hogtied effectively again. When Frank was satisfied with the way I was restrained he came in front of me and leaned, so his face was just next to mine.
“Before I take the tape off, I want to ask you one question. And I want an honest answer.” He said in a stern voice.
“Do you like the being gagged with my jockstrap?” He asked.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Of course, I did NOT like the gag, so I shook my head no. He took a deep drag on his cigar, and blew the smoke into my face; I caught but he didn’t bother.
“Well then, I guess I must keep you gagged a bit more, until you like your Master’s taste. Is half an hour enough?” He asked devilishly. He was so enjoying my predicament.
When I heard what he said I started squirming and shouting through the gag; I was hungry, my jaw ached from being gagged for so long, and now I was furious. I struggled as much as my bonds allowed, which made captor laugh even more.
“All right, all right, if it’s too short, I’ll let you have it for an hour, no need to get angry.” He said with a huge grin on his face.
I was panting heavily; it was obvious that the more I would protest the longer I would be gagged and without food. So I just sat there, waiting for his reaction.
“Glad you calmed down, kiddo. Now, just sit here, and enjoy my jockstrap. I’ll feed you in an hour, and then we’ll have even more fun.” He said and patted me on the cheek. Then he took a newspaper, sat in another char and began to read, puffing on his cigar. I was so screwed… and it was only ten o’clock in the morning….
I was awoken several hours later by the sound of the door being unlocked. A few moments later I heard Frank open it and enter the room. I started to moan to attract his attention, but he seemed to pay no attention to my pleas. I felt him sit on the bed and reach to my face; he told me not to move and cut the duct tape securing his cleat off. When he removed the cursed shoe I was finally able to breathe fresh air, which I did gladly.
I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to the bright sunlight; it was a nice and sunny Saturday morning. When I got used to the light I looked at Frank. He was still sitting on the bed looking at me with his cold eyes. He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans with a cowboy belt, and a grey T-shirt. He had sunglasses, too. I tried to ask him to remove my gag, but he just smirked.
“Hope you slept well, kiddo. We’re gonna spend some time together, so let’s settle some rules now, ok boy?” He asked. I did nothing but stared at him.
“So, the rules are as follows: I’m your Master now, so you’ll address me as ‘Sir’ every time I ask you a question. When the gag is off, you’re not allowed to speak unless spoken to. You’ll obey my orders to the detail and if you don’t to as I say you’ll get punished. For the first disobedience I’ll spank you five times with my belt. With every next disobedience I’ll double the number of smacks, so I’d be careful if I were you. And if I see you try to even touch the phone in your pocket I’ll make a good use of those photos. Understood?” He finally asked and waited for my response.
I couldn’t believe it; that sick bastard really wanted to make me his slave! I kept staring at him; after a while Frank added something more:
“And if you don’t agree to the rules, I’ll simply keep you here until Sunday evening. Bound and gagged, with nothing to eat and drink. Now, I know that this isn’t something you expected, but what the hell! You’re in no position to do anything about it, are you kiddo?” He smiled and added:
“So, do you agree to the rules?”
I thought for a while; being left alone and not having to deal with that asshole was extremely tempting. On the other hand, I was sick of having his jockstrap in my mouth, and, what was even more important to me, I was getting really hungry and thirsty. So after considering all the pros and cons I slowly nodded my head.
“Yeah, I knew you would agree.” He said.
I was hoping that he would now remove the gag, but instead I saw him reach to the back pocket in his jeans and take a pair of handcuffs out. Where the hell did he get that?! I watched him put the cuff on my left wrist. Then he untied my both hands from the bedposts and cuffed them in front. When he let go of them I moved them to my face to get rid of the gag, but Frank grabbed my hands with his left hand and my jaw with the other. He
“Don’t you even dare to touch that, fucker. I decide if, and when to take it off. Do you understand?!” He yelled at me and I nodded my head.
“Good. Now stand still.” He barked.
I tried to calm down when Frank was untying my legs from the bed. When he was done he ordered me to stand up and follow him. I complied and soon we were in his kitchen. Frank sat in the chair and took a cigar from a drawer and cut the tip. I watched him as he put the cigar between his teeth and lit it; he dragged a few times and blew the smoke out.
“Here is your breakfast.” He said pointing at a plate with four sandwiches on it. I gulped and begand walking towards the plate when I heard:
“ Not now! First you must do the washing up.”
I turned my head towards the sink; there was a pile of dirty plates, glasses, cups, forks ,etc, etc. I moaned into my gag, which caused Frank to laugh. He was obviously enjoying the situation. Resigned, I
plodded on to the sink. While I was washing the dishes Frank was smoking lazily and from time to time he looked at me with delight.
“Come here, sit in the chair.” Frank said when I was finally done. It took me about half an hour to clean everything.
He took the handcuffs off and told me to put my hands around the back of the chair, where he recuffed them. Ha took a coil of rope from the drawer and tied my legs together at my ankles. With another piece he bound my calves. Next, he took yet another coil and tied it to my ankles, went behind the chair and tied the loose end to my cuffed wrists. I was now hogtied effectively again. When Frank was satisfied with the way I was restrained he came in front of me and leaned, so his face was just next to mine.
“Before I take the tape off, I want to ask you one question. And I want an honest answer.” He said in a stern voice.
“Do you like the being gagged with my jockstrap?” He asked.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Of course, I did NOT like the gag, so I shook my head no. He took a deep drag on his cigar, and blew the smoke into my face; I caught but he didn’t bother.
“Well then, I guess I must keep you gagged a bit more, until you like your Master’s taste. Is half an hour enough?” He asked devilishly. He was so enjoying my predicament.
When I heard what he said I started squirming and shouting through the gag; I was hungry, my jaw ached from being gagged for so long, and now I was furious. I struggled as much as my bonds allowed, which made captor laugh even more.
“All right, all right, if it’s too short, I’ll let you have it for an hour, no need to get angry.” He said with a huge grin on his face.
I was panting heavily; it was obvious that the more I would protest the longer I would be gagged and without food. So I just sat there, waiting for his reaction.
“Glad you calmed down, kiddo. Now, just sit here, and enjoy my jockstrap. I’ll feed you in an hour, and then we’ll have even more fun.” He said and patted me on the cheek. Then he took a newspaper, sat in another char and began to read, puffing on his cigar. I was so screwed… and it was only ten o’clock in the morning….
There I was; sitting in a chair and unable to move. My hands were cuffed behind the back of the chair and my legs were bound with rope and connected to the handcuffs, effectively hogtying me. My captor was in front of me, reading a newspaper and enjoying his cigar. I tried to talk to him and ask him to untie me and let me eat my breakfast ( God, I was starving at the time! ), but his jockstrap, stuffed into my mouth and held there with layers of duct tape, prevented me from making too much noise. But the worst of all was the fact, that I ended up in that very chair sort of on my own request.
I looked at the wall clock: it was a quarter past ten in the morning and, according to my captor, Frank, I was supposed to be untied and fed at eleven. So after a few minutes of struggling I finally gave up and decided to wait calmly; though it wasn’t easy: from time to time Frank cast me a glance and teased me saying that I looked so well tied up that he might never let me go. I hated every single second of that.
After what seemed like eternity to me the clock struck eleven. But Frank didn’t seem to care about that and carried on reading his newspaper. I began struggling and yelling at him through my gag again; it only made him laugh at me and smirk.
“Shut up, asshole. I’ll feed you when I want and no sooner than that.” He said with a devilish grin on his face.
So what was I supposed to do? I sat there, hating him with every cell of my body. Finally, when he was done reading, he stood up and came behind me.
“I’ll remove the tape and take the gag out. If you say anything the gag goes back in and no breakfast for you. If you say anything after breakfast, I’ll gag you for the next twenty for hours. The decision is up to you, understood?” He asked.
I nodded my head in agreement and Frank began to unwind the tape. After he had torn the last layer from my mouth I could finally spit out my gag. My jaw hurt a lot when I moved it. But it didn’t matter; after so much time with that filthy rag in my mouth I was finally able to breathe through my mouth and hope that the foul taste would soon be gone. In the meantime Frank took his chair and placed it next to mine and sat on it.
“Now, I don’t actually now what you like, so I just did several different sandwiches for you. At least some of them should be fine.” He said and he gave me a ham sandwich.
Something wasn’t right there; Frank was way too nice for me. I thought he would simply stuff some simple foot into my mouth barking at me and ordering to eat up fast. On the contrary, he was gentle and even friendly in some strange way. I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out what he had in his mind. I even wondered if I could speak, but decided it wouldn’t be wise; first, I kind of liked being fed by a friendly guy, and second: I didn’t want to spend the next twenty four hours gagged.
When the breakfast was over ( I ate seven different sandwiches, most of them really delicious ) Frank a glass to my lips and told me to drink. I did and soon I felt warm tea in my mouth; wonderful feeling. I drank everything and Frank wiped my lips with some paper towel he had prepared earlier.
“Now listen carefully. I have some work to do and I don’t want you to cause any trouble. So I’m going to leave you in this chair, and if you promise to behave I’ll undo the hogtie.” He said while he was putting the plate and the glass into the sink.
“Of course, you can always choose not to cooperate, but then I will have to truss you up like an animal and leave you hogtied in the basement. How would you like that?” He added, this time more sternly. It seemed that there were two different persons in one body…
I looked him in the eye and shook my head no. A little smile appeared on his face.
“Good, then let’s make you a bit more comfortable.” He said and came behind me.
Soon I felt the rope connecting my tied ankles to my wrists loosen and in a few moments I could stretch my legs again. I sighed thankfully in relief. Frank came then in front of me and knelt. He untied my legs, moved them to the legs of the chair and retied them at the ankles and calves. When he was done he took a very long coil of rope and fastened my thighs to the seat of the chair. Satisfied with his work he went to another room and came back with a roll of duct tape in his hand. I gulped loudly.
“Sorry mate, but you know how it goes; you aren’t properly tied unless you’re gagged. But I’ll go easy on you this time. If you promise to be perfectly quiet I won’t stuff your mouth. But if I hear ANY sound from you, you’ll regret it. So, will you stay quiet?” He asked.
What choice did I have? I was to be gagged anyway, so it was better to only have my lips sealed. So I nodded and Frank unwound the tape. He pressed the unwound piece firmly on my mouth and wrapped my lower face several times, smoothing the tape after each wrap. Soon I was securely gagged again.
“Remember kid, one whimper and I’ll stuff your mouth for good.” He warned; I nodded silently.
But Frank wasn’t done yet. He tore one more piece from the tape and placed it over my eyes. I heard him tear another piece, and then another one. All of them were plastered over my eyes, effectively blindfolding me.
“There you go, nice and quiet. I have a little surprise for you. Just be patient, and don’t even try to free yourself. I’ll know if you try, and I won’t hesitate to punish you for disobedience.” He warned me once more and I heard him walk away.
I sat there perfectly still, not daring to move or utter a sound….
I looked at the wall clock: it was a quarter past ten in the morning and, according to my captor, Frank, I was supposed to be untied and fed at eleven. So after a few minutes of struggling I finally gave up and decided to wait calmly; though it wasn’t easy: from time to time Frank cast me a glance and teased me saying that I looked so well tied up that he might never let me go. I hated every single second of that.
After what seemed like eternity to me the clock struck eleven. But Frank didn’t seem to care about that and carried on reading his newspaper. I began struggling and yelling at him through my gag again; it only made him laugh at me and smirk.
“Shut up, asshole. I’ll feed you when I want and no sooner than that.” He said with a devilish grin on his face.
So what was I supposed to do? I sat there, hating him with every cell of my body. Finally, when he was done reading, he stood up and came behind me.
“I’ll remove the tape and take the gag out. If you say anything the gag goes back in and no breakfast for you. If you say anything after breakfast, I’ll gag you for the next twenty for hours. The decision is up to you, understood?” He asked.
I nodded my head in agreement and Frank began to unwind the tape. After he had torn the last layer from my mouth I could finally spit out my gag. My jaw hurt a lot when I moved it. But it didn’t matter; after so much time with that filthy rag in my mouth I was finally able to breathe through my mouth and hope that the foul taste would soon be gone. In the meantime Frank took his chair and placed it next to mine and sat on it.
“Now, I don’t actually now what you like, so I just did several different sandwiches for you. At least some of them should be fine.” He said and he gave me a ham sandwich.
Something wasn’t right there; Frank was way too nice for me. I thought he would simply stuff some simple foot into my mouth barking at me and ordering to eat up fast. On the contrary, he was gentle and even friendly in some strange way. I looked at him carefully, trying to figure out what he had in his mind. I even wondered if I could speak, but decided it wouldn’t be wise; first, I kind of liked being fed by a friendly guy, and second: I didn’t want to spend the next twenty four hours gagged.
When the breakfast was over ( I ate seven different sandwiches, most of them really delicious ) Frank a glass to my lips and told me to drink. I did and soon I felt warm tea in my mouth; wonderful feeling. I drank everything and Frank wiped my lips with some paper towel he had prepared earlier.
“Now listen carefully. I have some work to do and I don’t want you to cause any trouble. So I’m going to leave you in this chair, and if you promise to behave I’ll undo the hogtie.” He said while he was putting the plate and the glass into the sink.
“Of course, you can always choose not to cooperate, but then I will have to truss you up like an animal and leave you hogtied in the basement. How would you like that?” He added, this time more sternly. It seemed that there were two different persons in one body…
I looked him in the eye and shook my head no. A little smile appeared on his face.
“Good, then let’s make you a bit more comfortable.” He said and came behind me.
Soon I felt the rope connecting my tied ankles to my wrists loosen and in a few moments I could stretch my legs again. I sighed thankfully in relief. Frank came then in front of me and knelt. He untied my legs, moved them to the legs of the chair and retied them at the ankles and calves. When he was done he took a very long coil of rope and fastened my thighs to the seat of the chair. Satisfied with his work he went to another room and came back with a roll of duct tape in his hand. I gulped loudly.
“Sorry mate, but you know how it goes; you aren’t properly tied unless you’re gagged. But I’ll go easy on you this time. If you promise to be perfectly quiet I won’t stuff your mouth. But if I hear ANY sound from you, you’ll regret it. So, will you stay quiet?” He asked.
What choice did I have? I was to be gagged anyway, so it was better to only have my lips sealed. So I nodded and Frank unwound the tape. He pressed the unwound piece firmly on my mouth and wrapped my lower face several times, smoothing the tape after each wrap. Soon I was securely gagged again.
“Remember kid, one whimper and I’ll stuff your mouth for good.” He warned; I nodded silently.
But Frank wasn’t done yet. He tore one more piece from the tape and placed it over my eyes. I heard him tear another piece, and then another one. All of them were plastered over my eyes, effectively blindfolding me.
“There you go, nice and quiet. I have a little surprise for you. Just be patient, and don’t even try to free yourself. I’ll know if you try, and I won’t hesitate to punish you for disobedience.” He warned me once more and I heard him walk away.
I sat there perfectly still, not daring to move or utter a sound….
I was sitting perfectly still, bound to a chair and unable to move. My mouth was duct taped shut, and although it wasn’t stuffed with anything, I didn’t dear to make a sound. I was blindfolded, so I couldn’t tell where my captor was, and I decided that I would be wise not to anger him. I guess the only thing I could do at the moment was to sit and wait for Frank’s big “surprise”. But I have to admit, that the more I was thinking about it, the more anxious I got.
The time was plodding on incredibly slowly; the minutes seemed to last like hours, and the hours were like months. Soon I completely lost the track of time. Sometimes I could hear some noises from different parts of the house; Frank was didn’t pay any attention to me. But I think that I could sense him once, while he was checking on my bonds, making sure I stayed tied tightly.
Suddenly I heard a doorbell ring; I jumped on my chair as much as my bonds allowed. After a short while I heard Frank go to the door and open it. He greeted someone, and soon I could hear two sets of footsteps approaching. I was panting heavily and my heart was racing in my chest. Who the hell was the new guy?! I sensed him go around me, watch my handcuffed hands and my gag. He didn’t speak a word while doing that.
“Lets’ leave him here and have a beer. You must be tired after your flight.” I heard Frank say and a few moments later they were gone, and I was alone again. God, what have I done to deserve this? Were they some sort of kidnappers? What are going to do with me? My mind was racing and I began to sweat from fear.
After what seemed like half an hour I heard Frank and his guest come to me again. One of them took the tape from my eyes and I could finally see the other guy. When my eyes adjusted to the light I looked at the new guy and, if it wasn’t for the duct tape around my mouth, my jaw would have dropped. Standing before me was my own father. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie. But what the hell was he doing here? I started to shout through the gag.
“Calm down, son, it’s all right. If you stop screaming, I’ll explain everything.” He said calmly. I stared at him and at Frank, who was beaming. Finally I nodded my head slowly.
“Good, now listen. After I had left you with Mr. Thomson and set to the airport I had a phone from him. He told me that you asked him to tie you up, and he asked me what he should do. I told him to do it and make sure you get what you want. But then we both got the idea to mess with you for a while, so I came up with the idea for you to be the poker award. I know the guys for several years, so I knew that they wouldn’t hurt you. Even Frank here, who likes to be in control of other people.”
I kept staring at them in disbelief. So this was all made up to make fun of me?
“I just wish you’d told me about this stuff John; sons shouldn’t have any secrets from their fathers”. He added and took the tape from my mouth. I stretched my jaw a bit.
“Dad, why are you home so early?” I asked, I don’t know why exactly.
“Well, the business meeting was shorter than I thought it would be, so there was no point in staying there. Besides, I definitely wanted to see you tied up like this.” He said and grinned.
“Hey, dude, you want one?” I heard Frank say and looked at him.
He was handing my dad one of his cigars. My father took it and they both lit them. Soon I could smell the familiar smoke. They chatted for a while longer, and my father said that we should be going home soon. God, finally I’ll be free – I thought to myself. But I was wrong.
My dad put his suitcase on the table and took something dark from it. He put his cigar between his teeth and came behind my back.
“Now, Frank told you not to make a sound when you were gagged, and you didn’t comply. As I understand it, he was to stuff your mouth for twenty four hours if you didn’t obey, right? So I’m sorry son, but you broke my friend’s rule, and you have to face the consequences.” He said.
When I wanted to protest, I felt him push some material into my mouth. He tossed my head and took his time pushing the whole material behind my teeth. When he was done, my mouth was completely stuffed and my tongue was pressed down. I started to push the material out, but my father clamped his hand over my mouth, making all my efforts futile.
“Frank, get me some help here, would you?” My dad asked his buddy.
“Sure thing, mate.” Frank replied and handed my father a roll of duct tape.
After a while I could hear the familiar noise of the tape being unrolled. I tried to scream and beg them not to gag me again, but there was nothing I could do. My dad pressed the tape on my cheek and wrapped the tape around my mouth seven times, making sure the tape sticks to my face perfectly.
“You got some rope?” I heard my dad ask.
“Yeah, lots of it.” Came the reply.
“Good, give me some.”
I felt my father take a coil of rope and tie my elbows together. I was quite flexible, so it wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, but I definitely didn’t like being trussed up like an animal again. But being bound as I already was, there was little I could do to prevent that from happening. Soon my elbows were bound, the cuffs were gone, and my wrists were crossed and tied tightly again.
While my dad was binding my arms, Frank was busy tying up my legs together. He wrapped rope around my ankles, calves and thighs VERY tightly. When I gasped, he just smiled and tied the knot.
After they had secured me, they moved me from the chair to the floor. Frank held my arms still, and my father bent my legs so that my heels nearly touched my butt and sat on them. I groaned, but they ignored me. I felt my father bind my legs with another piece of rope and connect the loose ends to the rope binding my elbows. Soon there was another piece of rope; this one went from my tied ankles to my wrist. I was hogtied, very securely and inescapably.
But this wasn’t over yet. I heard my dad grab the duct tape and unwind it a little. He then grabbed my hands and wrapped them from wrists to the tips of my fingers with duct tape.
“Just to make sure you won’t try anything funny, John.” I heard him say. He rolled me on my side, knelt beside me and added:
“Now, for shouting while gagged, when Frank told you not to, you’ll spend the next twenty four hours gagged with my socks. And for not telling me about this whole tie up stuff you’re gonna spend the time hogtied. Hope you enjoy it, son.”
He took a deep drag on his cigar and stood up. I was soooooo screwed…..
The time was plodding on incredibly slowly; the minutes seemed to last like hours, and the hours were like months. Soon I completely lost the track of time. Sometimes I could hear some noises from different parts of the house; Frank was didn’t pay any attention to me. But I think that I could sense him once, while he was checking on my bonds, making sure I stayed tied tightly.
Suddenly I heard a doorbell ring; I jumped on my chair as much as my bonds allowed. After a short while I heard Frank go to the door and open it. He greeted someone, and soon I could hear two sets of footsteps approaching. I was panting heavily and my heart was racing in my chest. Who the hell was the new guy?! I sensed him go around me, watch my handcuffed hands and my gag. He didn’t speak a word while doing that.
“Lets’ leave him here and have a beer. You must be tired after your flight.” I heard Frank say and a few moments later they were gone, and I was alone again. God, what have I done to deserve this? Were they some sort of kidnappers? What are going to do with me? My mind was racing and I began to sweat from fear.
After what seemed like half an hour I heard Frank and his guest come to me again. One of them took the tape from my eyes and I could finally see the other guy. When my eyes adjusted to the light I looked at the new guy and, if it wasn’t for the duct tape around my mouth, my jaw would have dropped. Standing before me was my own father. He was dressed in a dark suit and tie. But what the hell was he doing here? I started to shout through the gag.
“Calm down, son, it’s all right. If you stop screaming, I’ll explain everything.” He said calmly. I stared at him and at Frank, who was beaming. Finally I nodded my head slowly.
“Good, now listen. After I had left you with Mr. Thomson and set to the airport I had a phone from him. He told me that you asked him to tie you up, and he asked me what he should do. I told him to do it and make sure you get what you want. But then we both got the idea to mess with you for a while, so I came up with the idea for you to be the poker award. I know the guys for several years, so I knew that they wouldn’t hurt you. Even Frank here, who likes to be in control of other people.”
I kept staring at them in disbelief. So this was all made up to make fun of me?
“I just wish you’d told me about this stuff John; sons shouldn’t have any secrets from their fathers”. He added and took the tape from my mouth. I stretched my jaw a bit.
“Dad, why are you home so early?” I asked, I don’t know why exactly.
“Well, the business meeting was shorter than I thought it would be, so there was no point in staying there. Besides, I definitely wanted to see you tied up like this.” He said and grinned.
“Hey, dude, you want one?” I heard Frank say and looked at him.
He was handing my dad one of his cigars. My father took it and they both lit them. Soon I could smell the familiar smoke. They chatted for a while longer, and my father said that we should be going home soon. God, finally I’ll be free – I thought to myself. But I was wrong.
My dad put his suitcase on the table and took something dark from it. He put his cigar between his teeth and came behind my back.
“Now, Frank told you not to make a sound when you were gagged, and you didn’t comply. As I understand it, he was to stuff your mouth for twenty four hours if you didn’t obey, right? So I’m sorry son, but you broke my friend’s rule, and you have to face the consequences.” He said.
When I wanted to protest, I felt him push some material into my mouth. He tossed my head and took his time pushing the whole material behind my teeth. When he was done, my mouth was completely stuffed and my tongue was pressed down. I started to push the material out, but my father clamped his hand over my mouth, making all my efforts futile.
“Frank, get me some help here, would you?” My dad asked his buddy.
“Sure thing, mate.” Frank replied and handed my father a roll of duct tape.
After a while I could hear the familiar noise of the tape being unrolled. I tried to scream and beg them not to gag me again, but there was nothing I could do. My dad pressed the tape on my cheek and wrapped the tape around my mouth seven times, making sure the tape sticks to my face perfectly.
“You got some rope?” I heard my dad ask.
“Yeah, lots of it.” Came the reply.
“Good, give me some.”
I felt my father take a coil of rope and tie my elbows together. I was quite flexible, so it wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, but I definitely didn’t like being trussed up like an animal again. But being bound as I already was, there was little I could do to prevent that from happening. Soon my elbows were bound, the cuffs were gone, and my wrists were crossed and tied tightly again.
While my dad was binding my arms, Frank was busy tying up my legs together. He wrapped rope around my ankles, calves and thighs VERY tightly. When I gasped, he just smiled and tied the knot.
After they had secured me, they moved me from the chair to the floor. Frank held my arms still, and my father bent my legs so that my heels nearly touched my butt and sat on them. I groaned, but they ignored me. I felt my father bind my legs with another piece of rope and connect the loose ends to the rope binding my elbows. Soon there was another piece of rope; this one went from my tied ankles to my wrist. I was hogtied, very securely and inescapably.
But this wasn’t over yet. I heard my dad grab the duct tape and unwind it a little. He then grabbed my hands and wrapped them from wrists to the tips of my fingers with duct tape.
“Just to make sure you won’t try anything funny, John.” I heard him say. He rolled me on my side, knelt beside me and added:
“Now, for shouting while gagged, when Frank told you not to, you’ll spend the next twenty four hours gagged with my socks. And for not telling me about this whole tie up stuff you’re gonna spend the time hogtied. Hope you enjoy it, son.”
He took a deep drag on his cigar and stood up. I was soooooo screwed…..
I watched my father stand up, go to his buddy and leave the room. From my position I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but I was sure it wasn’t anything good for me. Being left to myself I decided to try my bonds, although from the very beginning I was quite sure I wouldn’t be able to undo any knot; especially with my fingers cruelly duct taped. I had to try though. Of course, all my efforts were futile, and soon I was sweating and panting heavily. There was absolutely nothing I could do to free myself.
Suddenly I realized that my hard-on was back. I suppose that when I no longer felt endangered I could again enjoy being tied up; ropes on my body felt absolutely amazing and being unable to utter a word was even a greater turn on. Even though I knew it was impossible to wiggle my hands from the rope I kept struggling and wiggling.
After what it seemed like hours, but was probably no longer than a few minutes, my dad and Frank returned; Frank was holding some blanket in his hands. I tried to attract their attention, tell them I was sore and that I wanted to be untied. The only result of my muffled cries was that they both smirked.
“Come on, mate. Grab his legs, and I’ll take the arms.” My dad said.
“Sure thing.” Frank replied and said to me: “Boy, if you don’t want us to drop you, you’d better stop squirming.”
I immediately became still. I definitely didn’t want to hit the floor the way I was bound. The guys picked me up like a sack of potatoes and walked to Frank’s garage. When we got there I saw my dad’s car; one of the doors was opened.
“Now be careful, I know he can be a pain in the ass, but he is my son, and I don’t want him to get hurt. Too much, at least.” I heard me dad say and both of them laughed.
I grunted angrily, but none of them took any notice of that. They put me in the backseat of our car and Frank covered my body with the blanket. I suppose they didn’t want anybody to see me all trussed up like that. After they had buckled me up with the seatbelts and made sure I was safe, I heard the car door shut. After a short while my dad got in as well, and started the engine.
“I wish you had told me about this tie up stuff, you know.” I heard my father speak.
I tried to turn my head towards him, but buckled and bound as I was, it wasn’t that easy. But after a little bit of struggling and grunting into my gag I finally managed to position myself. When I stopped moving my dad carried on.
“You’re not the only one who likes being tied up, you know. When I was at your age I used to play tie up games with my buddies a lot. I liked to tie them up, gag them, and see who could escape. At first it didn’t take much time for them to free themselves, but in time I got better and better, and no one could escape my ropework.”
I listened to my father and couldn’t believe what he was saying. How come he never mentioned that before? I had hundreds of questions, but my dad’s sock in my mouth prevented me from asking them. I looked at my father as he took a drag on his cigar; when he blew the smoke out he continued:
“When I was in the military we had a deal with other guys. Whenever there was any kind of competition between us the looser had to sleep hogtied and gagged with the winner’s socks. If anyone could free himself he could tie the guy who tied him up for the whole day. Now, most of them hated getting bound, but I guess they were too proud to say that aloud. And I bet that some guys wanted to loose and get hogtied.
When George called me and told me you asked him to tie you up I was really disappointed, son. I thought you could tell me everything, but obviously I was wrong. But never mind, we’ll have plenty of time to… bond with each other.”
When he finished talking he took another drag on his cigar. The rest of the way home we spent in silence. I never imagined that my own dad liked tying other guys up. If I had known this I would have asked him to tie me up, but how the hell was I supposed to know all that stuff?
Finally we got home. My father drove the car into the garage and shut it down. Then he got out of the car, and opened the door to the back seat. He unbuckled me and released my hogtie. I sighed in relief. He then dragged me out and put me on his shoulder. I grunted in disapproval, but he ignored me. He took me upstairs, to his bedroom and put me on the floor. Then he left the room and I was alone for some time.
Obviously I started struggling to free myself, but after a short while my dad came into the room again.
“Not a chance, buddy. Don’t even try to untie yourself, you’ll only get more tired. See, the whole idea of being tied up is about being totally helpless and on someone else’s mercy. And when I tie someone up, he stays tied up.”
He knelt beside, rolled me on my side, looked me in the eye and said:
“It doesn’t matter if you want to be released. You got yourself into this, so be a man and face the consequences. It’s nearly six now; I told you at Frank’s that you would stay 24 hours hogtied and you will. And if you misbehave I can make it longer, so cooperate if you know what’s good for you.”
Having said that, my father rolled me onto my stomach and took two coils of rope. He made me bent me legs and with the short piece of rope he connected my wrists to my ankles. Then he took the long rope and tied my ankles to the rope binding my elbows together. I was totally stuck again, and there was I could do about it.
My father checked the knots and when he was satisfied he simply stood up and left the room. I was alone again and I surely had a lot to think about. For instance, was my dad angry with me? Why did he want me to tell him about this weird stuff anyway? Was it really usual for guys at my age to like this tie up thing? I just lay on the floor, unable to move or speak and thought about what dad had told me.
After several hours my dad entered the bedroom again; he was now wearing only his boxers.
“Comfy, son?” He asked in a teasing manner.
“I need to get some sleep, and since you’re as you’re now, I thought it would be wise to have you around, just in case. If you don’t stay quiet and calm, I’ll make your 24 hours of punishment very miserable. So just lie there and sleep. Goodnight.”
It took him no time at all to fall asleep. I knew that it would be better for me if I didn’t cause any trouble so I simply lay there as I was told to, and soon I dozed off.
Suddenly I realized that my hard-on was back. I suppose that when I no longer felt endangered I could again enjoy being tied up; ropes on my body felt absolutely amazing and being unable to utter a word was even a greater turn on. Even though I knew it was impossible to wiggle my hands from the rope I kept struggling and wiggling.
After what it seemed like hours, but was probably no longer than a few minutes, my dad and Frank returned; Frank was holding some blanket in his hands. I tried to attract their attention, tell them I was sore and that I wanted to be untied. The only result of my muffled cries was that they both smirked.
“Come on, mate. Grab his legs, and I’ll take the arms.” My dad said.
“Sure thing.” Frank replied and said to me: “Boy, if you don’t want us to drop you, you’d better stop squirming.”
I immediately became still. I definitely didn’t want to hit the floor the way I was bound. The guys picked me up like a sack of potatoes and walked to Frank’s garage. When we got there I saw my dad’s car; one of the doors was opened.
“Now be careful, I know he can be a pain in the ass, but he is my son, and I don’t want him to get hurt. Too much, at least.” I heard me dad say and both of them laughed.
I grunted angrily, but none of them took any notice of that. They put me in the backseat of our car and Frank covered my body with the blanket. I suppose they didn’t want anybody to see me all trussed up like that. After they had buckled me up with the seatbelts and made sure I was safe, I heard the car door shut. After a short while my dad got in as well, and started the engine.
“I wish you had told me about this tie up stuff, you know.” I heard my father speak.
I tried to turn my head towards him, but buckled and bound as I was, it wasn’t that easy. But after a little bit of struggling and grunting into my gag I finally managed to position myself. When I stopped moving my dad carried on.
“You’re not the only one who likes being tied up, you know. When I was at your age I used to play tie up games with my buddies a lot. I liked to tie them up, gag them, and see who could escape. At first it didn’t take much time for them to free themselves, but in time I got better and better, and no one could escape my ropework.”
I listened to my father and couldn’t believe what he was saying. How come he never mentioned that before? I had hundreds of questions, but my dad’s sock in my mouth prevented me from asking them. I looked at my father as he took a drag on his cigar; when he blew the smoke out he continued:
“When I was in the military we had a deal with other guys. Whenever there was any kind of competition between us the looser had to sleep hogtied and gagged with the winner’s socks. If anyone could free himself he could tie the guy who tied him up for the whole day. Now, most of them hated getting bound, but I guess they were too proud to say that aloud. And I bet that some guys wanted to loose and get hogtied.
When George called me and told me you asked him to tie you up I was really disappointed, son. I thought you could tell me everything, but obviously I was wrong. But never mind, we’ll have plenty of time to… bond with each other.”
When he finished talking he took another drag on his cigar. The rest of the way home we spent in silence. I never imagined that my own dad liked tying other guys up. If I had known this I would have asked him to tie me up, but how the hell was I supposed to know all that stuff?
Finally we got home. My father drove the car into the garage and shut it down. Then he got out of the car, and opened the door to the back seat. He unbuckled me and released my hogtie. I sighed in relief. He then dragged me out and put me on his shoulder. I grunted in disapproval, but he ignored me. He took me upstairs, to his bedroom and put me on the floor. Then he left the room and I was alone for some time.
Obviously I started struggling to free myself, but after a short while my dad came into the room again.
“Not a chance, buddy. Don’t even try to untie yourself, you’ll only get more tired. See, the whole idea of being tied up is about being totally helpless and on someone else’s mercy. And when I tie someone up, he stays tied up.”
He knelt beside, rolled me on my side, looked me in the eye and said:
“It doesn’t matter if you want to be released. You got yourself into this, so be a man and face the consequences. It’s nearly six now; I told you at Frank’s that you would stay 24 hours hogtied and you will. And if you misbehave I can make it longer, so cooperate if you know what’s good for you.”
Having said that, my father rolled me onto my stomach and took two coils of rope. He made me bent me legs and with the short piece of rope he connected my wrists to my ankles. Then he took the long rope and tied my ankles to the rope binding my elbows together. I was totally stuck again, and there was I could do about it.
My father checked the knots and when he was satisfied he simply stood up and left the room. I was alone again and I surely had a lot to think about. For instance, was my dad angry with me? Why did he want me to tell him about this weird stuff anyway? Was it really usual for guys at my age to like this tie up thing? I just lay on the floor, unable to move or speak and thought about what dad had told me.
After several hours my dad entered the bedroom again; he was now wearing only his boxers.
“Comfy, son?” He asked in a teasing manner.
“I need to get some sleep, and since you’re as you’re now, I thought it would be wise to have you around, just in case. If you don’t stay quiet and calm, I’ll make your 24 hours of punishment very miserable. So just lie there and sleep. Goodnight.”
It took him no time at all to fall asleep. I knew that it would be better for me if I didn’t cause any trouble so I simply lay there as I was told to, and soon I dozed off.
When I finally woke up in the morning the sun was already high in the sky. I I squirmed for a while and looked at my dad’s bed; he was still sleeping. I tried to struggle a little bit and wiggle anything from my bonds, but my father did nice work tying me up. After only a few moments I realized that there was absolutely no way out for me. I sighed in resignation and gave up.
I was sore, stiff and I wanted out. I wanted to shout through the gag to wake my dad up, but I knew perfectly well that it wouldn’t be wise to anger him. After all, he was the one to decide how long I would stay hogtied. He said I would be tied for twenty four hours, but who knows whether he would keep his promise…
I was still and trying to make my position a little bit more comfortable when I saw my father sit on the bed and look at me. I looked him in the eye begging him silently to release me, but he ignored me completely, stood up and left the room. Soon I could hear water going in our bathroom; my father was about to take a shower. The sound of water made me sleepy and I thought I would doze off again when the water was off.
Soon my father walked back into the room and knelt beside me. He was wearing pale blue jeans with a brown leather belt, cleats and a grey T-shirt. He rolled me on my side and said:
“I guess you need to use the bathroom, right?” I nodded vigorously and he continued. “I thought so. I’ll release you from the hogtie and untie your legs. You’ll have 15 minutes to do what you have to do in there. Then you’ll walk downstairs to the living room, where I’ll hogtie you so you can finish your punishment.”
I moaned in disapproval, but there was nothing I could do. My dad helped me stand up and waited a while so I could stretch my legs a bit. When we were near the bathroom I looked first at him, then at behind my back and tried to ask him to untie my hands. He just smiled
“No way, mate. Your hands remain tied where they are, and the gag stays on too.” He said and pushed me into the toilet.
When he closed the door behind me I tried to figure out how on earth was I supposed to piss while tied up like that. After a lot of struggling I finally managed to put my trousers and boxers down. I tried as best as I could to piss into the toilet and not around it, and somehow I managed. With some effort I put my boxers and jeans back on and looked in the mirror. All I could see was layers of tape wrapped around my mouth. I sighed…
After 15 minutes passed my father opened the door and walked me out. He made me go downstairs and laid me on the carpet in front of the sofa. He made me lie on my stomach and proceeded to retie the hogtie. I squirmed and screamed into my gag, begging him not to tie me up again, but it was useless. And what was the worst part of this I could only blame myself for this! If only I hadn’t asked Mr. Thomson to tie me up I wouldn’t be in this shit right now.
My father fastened the knots tightly making my legs bent once more. It was really getting uncomfortable, but whining and complaining about it wasn’t the best idea. After all my dad could decide not to untie me until the morning and that was something I definitely wanted to avoid. So I decided to lie calmly and wait until six, when my punishment would be over.
The time passed slowly and painfully for me. I was sore, starving, and my mouth was so dry from the gag. When it was just before 5 o’clock I heard the doorbell. I squirmed; I didn’t want anyone to see me trussed up like this. I hoped my father would ignore the bell, but soon I saw him hurrying to the door and opening it
“Hey mate, glad you could come, come on in!” I heard him say.
“Guess John is still tied up, he?” The familiar voice said.
Yes, it was Frank, my father’s buddy. The guy who tormented and teased me greatly. He came to me and knelt nearby. He ruffled my hair and made fun of me. I was furious with him, so I shouted at him as much as my gag allowed, but it made him laugh even more. Then he stood up.
“Dude, I need to use the bathroom.” I heard him talk to my dad.
“Sure thing, it’s upstairs, second door to the left.” My father replied.
Then he came closer to me and said:
“I invited Frank for a game today. I won’t finish until 9, so I guess you’ll have to stay tied up like that for a while longer than I intended. But never mind. You are in no position to argue, so just be a man and take it.”
Now that was unexpected. My freedom was so close and now again so far… But my dad was right: I could do nothing to prevent them from keeping me bound for several more hours and I had to endure that.
When Frank came back to the living room I heard them rummaging around the room. I turned my head and saw them move a small coffee table next to the couch. They moved me away and put the table where a moment ago I had been. Then they picked me up and put me on the table. I looked at them questioningly, but they just laughed and positioned me in the center of the table. My dad took some rope from his jeans pocket and started tying me to the table. I moaned in desperation…
“Sorry son, but we kind a footstool, and it seems you’re perfect for that.” My father said.
After they had tied me securely to the table and made sure I wouldn’t fall off, they took cold beers from the fridge and sat and the couch. In no time at all I felt them put their feet on my back. I groaned angrily, but one of them turned the TV on, and my moans were soon barely audible. I looked at them furiously, but they ignored me and each of them lit a cigar. Soon the room was filled with smoke and the smell of beer.
Just as my dad had predicted, the game wasn’t finished until half past nine. A while after that Frank went home and my dad FINALLY started untying me. First he untied me from the table, then released the hogtie. Next went ankles, knees, elbows and wrists. When I was about to take the gag off, my dad grabbed my wrists.
“Wait. Before you take that off I want you to remember that it was you who wanted to be tied up.
Mr. Thomson, Frank and I only granted that wish. So I believe that next time you want something you’ll think twice before you ask for it.” He said in a serious voice.
I looked him in the eye. He wasn’t disappointed or angry; I had a feeling he was a little concerned. I nodded that I understood.
“Good. Now take that off and go take a shower and brush your teeth. In the meanwhile I’ll prepare some supper for us.” He added and winked.
During that evening we talked a lot about this whole tying up thing. I told him that it was quite fun not to be able to do anything and to be at the mercy of someone else. Someone who I trust, obviously. From that night my father tied me up several more times. Especially when my girlfriends was out of town me and my dad spend some quality time together, “bonding” with each other.
The end
I was sore, stiff and I wanted out. I wanted to shout through the gag to wake my dad up, but I knew perfectly well that it wouldn’t be wise to anger him. After all, he was the one to decide how long I would stay hogtied. He said I would be tied for twenty four hours, but who knows whether he would keep his promise…
I was still and trying to make my position a little bit more comfortable when I saw my father sit on the bed and look at me. I looked him in the eye begging him silently to release me, but he ignored me completely, stood up and left the room. Soon I could hear water going in our bathroom; my father was about to take a shower. The sound of water made me sleepy and I thought I would doze off again when the water was off.
Soon my father walked back into the room and knelt beside me. He was wearing pale blue jeans with a brown leather belt, cleats and a grey T-shirt. He rolled me on my side and said:
“I guess you need to use the bathroom, right?” I nodded vigorously and he continued. “I thought so. I’ll release you from the hogtie and untie your legs. You’ll have 15 minutes to do what you have to do in there. Then you’ll walk downstairs to the living room, where I’ll hogtie you so you can finish your punishment.”
I moaned in disapproval, but there was nothing I could do. My dad helped me stand up and waited a while so I could stretch my legs a bit. When we were near the bathroom I looked first at him, then at behind my back and tried to ask him to untie my hands. He just smiled
“No way, mate. Your hands remain tied where they are, and the gag stays on too.” He said and pushed me into the toilet.
When he closed the door behind me I tried to figure out how on earth was I supposed to piss while tied up like that. After a lot of struggling I finally managed to put my trousers and boxers down. I tried as best as I could to piss into the toilet and not around it, and somehow I managed. With some effort I put my boxers and jeans back on and looked in the mirror. All I could see was layers of tape wrapped around my mouth. I sighed…
After 15 minutes passed my father opened the door and walked me out. He made me go downstairs and laid me on the carpet in front of the sofa. He made me lie on my stomach and proceeded to retie the hogtie. I squirmed and screamed into my gag, begging him not to tie me up again, but it was useless. And what was the worst part of this I could only blame myself for this! If only I hadn’t asked Mr. Thomson to tie me up I wouldn’t be in this shit right now.
My father fastened the knots tightly making my legs bent once more. It was really getting uncomfortable, but whining and complaining about it wasn’t the best idea. After all my dad could decide not to untie me until the morning and that was something I definitely wanted to avoid. So I decided to lie calmly and wait until six, when my punishment would be over.
The time passed slowly and painfully for me. I was sore, starving, and my mouth was so dry from the gag. When it was just before 5 o’clock I heard the doorbell. I squirmed; I didn’t want anyone to see me trussed up like this. I hoped my father would ignore the bell, but soon I saw him hurrying to the door and opening it
“Hey mate, glad you could come, come on in!” I heard him say.
“Guess John is still tied up, he?” The familiar voice said.
Yes, it was Frank, my father’s buddy. The guy who tormented and teased me greatly. He came to me and knelt nearby. He ruffled my hair and made fun of me. I was furious with him, so I shouted at him as much as my gag allowed, but it made him laugh even more. Then he stood up.
“Dude, I need to use the bathroom.” I heard him talk to my dad.
“Sure thing, it’s upstairs, second door to the left.” My father replied.
Then he came closer to me and said:
“I invited Frank for a game today. I won’t finish until 9, so I guess you’ll have to stay tied up like that for a while longer than I intended. But never mind. You are in no position to argue, so just be a man and take it.”
Now that was unexpected. My freedom was so close and now again so far… But my dad was right: I could do nothing to prevent them from keeping me bound for several more hours and I had to endure that.
When Frank came back to the living room I heard them rummaging around the room. I turned my head and saw them move a small coffee table next to the couch. They moved me away and put the table where a moment ago I had been. Then they picked me up and put me on the table. I looked at them questioningly, but they just laughed and positioned me in the center of the table. My dad took some rope from his jeans pocket and started tying me to the table. I moaned in desperation…
“Sorry son, but we kind a footstool, and it seems you’re perfect for that.” My father said.
After they had tied me securely to the table and made sure I wouldn’t fall off, they took cold beers from the fridge and sat and the couch. In no time at all I felt them put their feet on my back. I groaned angrily, but one of them turned the TV on, and my moans were soon barely audible. I looked at them furiously, but they ignored me and each of them lit a cigar. Soon the room was filled with smoke and the smell of beer.
Just as my dad had predicted, the game wasn’t finished until half past nine. A while after that Frank went home and my dad FINALLY started untying me. First he untied me from the table, then released the hogtie. Next went ankles, knees, elbows and wrists. When I was about to take the gag off, my dad grabbed my wrists.
“Wait. Before you take that off I want you to remember that it was you who wanted to be tied up.
Mr. Thomson, Frank and I only granted that wish. So I believe that next time you want something you’ll think twice before you ask for it.” He said in a serious voice.
I looked him in the eye. He wasn’t disappointed or angry; I had a feeling he was a little concerned. I nodded that I understood.
“Good. Now take that off and go take a shower and brush your teeth. In the meanwhile I’ll prepare some supper for us.” He added and winked.
During that evening we talked a lot about this whole tying up thing. I told him that it was quite fun not to be able to do anything and to be at the mercy of someone else. Someone who I trust, obviously. From that night my father tied me up several more times. Especially when my girlfriends was out of town me and my dad spend some quality time together, “bonding” with each other.
The end
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Barefoot99
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 130
- Joined: 6 years ago
(M/m) added by Admin.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
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sniffingyoursocks
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 246
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Switzerland
- Contact:
Clearly one of my favourite stories from you, Squirrel.
Hope to read lots more stories from you soon!
Hope to read lots more stories from you soon!
Wow. Amazing story.
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Blakenome1999
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 83
- Joined: 6 years ago
As always, love your stories!! Hope there’s a lot more from you!! 
I’m young and impressionable, I need someone to guide me through this world... preferably on a leash... and then tie me up afterwords... or before... and I guess a gag could be used as well...
Great job with the suspense and constant tension untill the last two parts, which weakens it a little for me.
The weird neighbor taking his chance and his pals being rough and mostly just scaring the kid would have made your point and stayed rather plausible ( with the blackmail element ) without being too dark... Such an understanding relative on top of that makes it somewhat less believable to me.
All that to say I found it perfect untill the last two parts, hope you didn't add the final trick on an afterthougt, like you were afraid of appearing too wicked
To me it would have been the perfect balance between playing with danger and being too trashy.
So for a really complete review: could have been a 9 out of 10 on my ( very) personal scale, but the end really bugs me...
Gotta check your other stuff now, cause most of it was real good...
EDIT: gave some spoilers before editing that post, sorry
The weird neighbor taking his chance and his pals being rough and mostly just scaring the kid would have made your point and stayed rather plausible ( with the blackmail element ) without being too dark... Such an understanding relative on top of that makes it somewhat less believable to me.
All that to say I found it perfect untill the last two parts, hope you didn't add the final trick on an afterthougt, like you were afraid of appearing too wicked
To me it would have been the perfect balance between playing with danger and being too trashy. So for a really complete review: could have been a 9 out of 10 on my ( very) personal scale, but the end really bugs me...
Gotta check your other stuff now, cause most of it was real good...
EDIT: gave some spoilers before editing that post, sorry
Last edited by LK3869 6 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
don't run ! I'm friendly ...
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stormchaser1
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 22
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Columbia SC
Great story.
I like the idea of the teenager being passed around by his father's friends; glad you were able to make a good story out of it.
I’m normqlly not into m/m but you did a fantastic job describing the bondage which is always a huge plus
For my stories I haven't gotten around to posting here: https://gagfan.wordpress.com/
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Gagman
Awesome story! I love the idea of being the bound and gagged prize for a bunch of older guys. Especially when gagged with a used jockstrap and a bunch of tightly wrapped duct tape, and and then effectively kidnapped!
Not really into the twist with the dad, but thats just personal preference. Still great storytelling.
Very well done!
Not really into the twist with the dad, but thats just personal preference. Still great storytelling.
Very well done!
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RopingRingers
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 488
- Joined: 4 years ago
I feel OP is Australian lol gotta say though, if my dad set up that Frank ass, shit would be getting real lol.
