Homebound M/m Complete - March 28th, 2022
Great chapter! It’s gonna be interesting how he uses the boys without the eyes of those benefactors.
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]Bradstick[/mention] Mike will indeed be able to show creativity!
Love the way this is going - wonder if Sebastian might join the boys for a few days?
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cstone5725@gmail.com
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 48
- Joined: 3 years ago
Mum just loved reading this other chapter always great
One thing is the lads have been bound 24 7 for quite a while
How many days us ut now lol
Longest I've been kept is a week non stop minus loo and food breaks
One thing is the lads have been bound 24 7 for quite a while
How many days us ut now lol
Longest I've been kept is a week non stop minus loo and food breaks
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]Jb99[/mention] Here comes another episode!
[mention]cstone5725@gmail.com[/mention] It's a long-term detention, that's it. I hope the further episodes will please you too.
Chapter 23. Catching a Break
Mike left the stall, which he didn’t lock. Brian moved in his bonds; his legs could move more than usual, and the cuffs weren’t pulled overly tight. His left foot slid out; was there enough slack to get it off its stirrup?
He turned to Lester, who was squirming and making the same assessment. The boys eventually both pulled a foot out.
“Mrggrmmmpph!”
“Grmmgrmmmmmmmm!”
The gagged shouts of triumph energized the captives. For the first time in days, they had a serious shot at escaping. Brian kept twisting and rubbing his shorted bum on the smooth saddle. The restraints at his knees were loosening. He kept grumbling and trading looks of hope with Lester, who first had one of his legs free. The two lads fought hard, growing hot as they moved forward and backward, progressively overcoming the bonds’ resistance.
Lester helped Brian, and both prisoners managed to get off the saddle ten minutes later. Their arms were held tight in the single gloves, and speech was still impossible, but at least they could move, and if they found help outside, their restraints would be removed easily.
Brian took the lead. The main gates, a couple of hundreds of yards away, were open most of the time. Brian decided to follow the outside wall, sheltered by trees and away from sight if Mike went on a chase to catch them.
The hood covered his ears, but he tried hard to detect any suspicious sound. Lester imitated him and remained on the lookout for Mike, ready to crouch. No one in sight.
The last hundred yards didn’t allow for cover: they walked on the lawn with the high wall behind them. Brian noticed the gates were indeed open. The boys jogged, cautious not to fall while eager to reach freedom at last.
Brian looked outside the gates. The road was empty of cars and passersby. But a small van was parked on the mud road facing the gates leading into the forest. Brian crossed the road, followed by Lester. It was empty, but if someone had come to pick wood or take a walk, they could be back soon.
Their inability to speak impaired the two friends. Many courses of action were available, but they found it impossible to discuss their merits and pick the best one. Thankfully, a man appeared around the curve tens of yards ahead walking towards them: six feet tall, greying hair, in his late thirties, wearing a light green jacket and a pair of tans.
Lester and Brian wiggled and called for assistance, but the stranger didn’t pick on their call. He walked faster as soon as he identified the boys’ weird accessories and their striking demeanour.
He was breathless and wide-eyed when he caught up with them. The boys realized how weird they had to look. The man just mumbled ‘oh, my, oh my,’ and looked at their hoods and gloves. He went for Brian’s hood without a word, fumbling with the back to remove it. The lock made this impossible.
The man, dressed in casual country chic, headed to the back of the van. For tools, the boys thought.
“Come!” he waved at Lester and Brian. and opened the van’s back doors. The man grabbed a bag, but he didn’t pull out a saw or pliers. He held coils of rope. Brian and Lester saw the danger too late! The man had his hands between their shoulder blades, and he pushed them forward, sending them on their bellies on the van’s floor. Lester kicked and squirmed longer than his friend, but only because the man took care of Brian first. Their ankles were wrapped in rope soon, the end of which was tied to their gloves, effectively hogtying them.
After this new assailant slammed the back doors shut, he climbed in the driver’s seat and glided the car slowly down the alley. The man crossed the road carefully and drove into the estate.
“Mike told me of the challenge he’s put you lads through, and I’m impressed you’re up to it!”
The prisoners recognized the voice: it was Chatham, the pervy stalking creep who’d bound and gagged his teenage neighbour.
“Fooling you was funny. The prank is a bit mean, I confess, but we don’t want you to meet anyone dressed like this, do we?”
The van stopped at the back of the mansion. Chatham pulled them out of the vehicle and had them on their feet. Mike appeared in the doorframe.
“They jumped in your arms, Severin! I told you you could fool them easily! Come on, lads, hop to Uncle Mike!”
Brian and Lester traded puzzled looks but complied. Mike helped them climb the three steps leading to the kitchen door.
“Welcome back, boys! Glad you took the opportunity. You’ve met Severin, who’s come to visit for a couple days. He came with Sebastian, of course, because we thought you’d all benefit from spending time with boys your age who enjoy your hobby.”
Mike and Chatham worked on replacing the ropes on the boys’ legs with chains. Mike led the group to the living room. Sebastian was there already, sitting on a wheelchair to which he was strictly restrained. He wore a tracksuit, and his lower face disappeared behind layers of tightly wrapped fabric, the ends sticking from each side at the back of his head. His big blue eyes were locked on the newcomers.
“Here they are in the flesh, Seb,” Chatham said. “My neighbour was impressed by your performance, boys, and I talked to Mike about it. Sebastian was glad that you could spare some time for him and postpone your personal plans. I told you he had issues finding people his age to play with. You might have understood from what I told that I had him spend three weeks as a kidnap victim; being imprisoned with peers should make his captivity lighter to bear, at least for a moment. And getting acquainted with tie-up game players may be good in the future. Who knows, if you lads hit it off, you may have other sessions on your own when school starts over.”
Brian’s mind reeled. He was left in the dark on Mike’s plans, at least his goal, and here was another dubious character who could have actually kidnapped this—cute—boy Sebastian and pretended he was ‘helping’ him.
Mike looked at the three bound and gagged captives, smirking.
“I like the idea, Severin. Experiencing adversity together helps build character. We should make the most of these few days and have the lads roleplay the helpless prisoners. I have more ideas of escape challenges, Severin. We may have them all hold a part of the solution to their escape problem, having to cooperate to make it work fully. We shouldn’t be mollified into treating them lightly but do our best that they get the prisoner experience. The gags add to their distress, don’t they? Though distress didn’t prevent our two scoundrels from walking away from the stables.”
“We’re going to see that they can’t do it again,” Mr. Chatham suggested.
“Exactly. Three poor abducted boys under the watch of careful, professional keepers—this is the scenario they all want to enact!”
The garrulous men went on chit-chatting, though they didn’t fail to act. Mike had prepared leather harnesses that they set over Lester’s and Brian’s shoulders and torso. The abductors linked the straps attached between their shoulder blades to Sebastian’s wheelchair so they could pull it behind them.
“You’ll pull your new friend to the classroom. I’m sure he longs to be in there and check for himself.”
Mike opened the door and closed it back after the carriage went through. The ‘horses’ drew the wheelchair at a steady pace while Chatham and Mike followed leisurely.
“Having them so well restrained is pure genius, Mike: teenage boys are prone to do stupid and dangerous things, especially during the summer, and I doubt these three boys will be up to any mischief.”
“No run-ins with the law or substance abuse either,” Mike added.
Brian and Lester fumed but they kept pulling as the two men babbled about how better bonds would lead to better behaviour.
Once at the guest house, the men removed the harnesses and released Sebastian from his chair, cuffing him and hobbling his knees with three inches of chain. Mike opened the door, waving the boys in. They complied and crossed the entry hall to climb upstairs to the classroom.
The two men looked at their charges.
“Brian and Lester, you’re going to welcome your fellow-prisoner by binding him to his desk in ropes. To prove your respect, you’ll perform a perfect tie-up; if Sebastian escapes your bonds, you’ll have failed. By the way, you could get off the trestles at the stable because I made it possible. If Sebastian manages release within an hour, I’ll take it you wanted him to escape and you’ll spend a night ball-tied in a trunk.”
Lester and Brian obeyed and picked the coils of rope available one at a time. After they had the newbie sit down, they trussed him up to the desk one limb at a time. Sebastian didn’t make their job difficult. Both binders noticed how inflated his tracksuit pants were when they bound his legs.
They turned to Mike and Chatham, showing they were done; the two men inspected their job.
“The knots look sturdy, Mike.”
“They do, but the only valid test is to check it holds the prisoner for at least an hour. Meanwhile, you may give me a hand in binding these two to their poles so they can watch their friend while they undergo the penalty for getting caught in their escape attempt.”
The two friends grew used to the treatment; they’d spent a good part of their days tied to these poles already. The novelty was the talk between Mike and Chatham, who was always most willing to ask questions and get tips from the charismatic gardener.
Once they had them bundled to the metal bars with rope, Mike called tea time. He went to get a pitcher of water; Chatham went along and came back with a vanity case. Brian and Lester got their glass of water and their biscuit first, which were the prelude to a new gag. Mike made clear it had to be silencing and punishing so they wouldn’t fail next time. Brian hadn’t intended to fail, and if he were to succeed, the man would end up behind bars!
“I have Sebastian’s socks to stuff their mouths. He’d worn them for three days. Hopefully he didn’t sweat too much …”
“Don’t be soft on them, Severin. They like it strong and harsh.”
“True. It’s a good way to get acquainted, anyway.”
The devious kidnappers joined forces for the feeding and the gagging. Brian never got a chance to disprove any of Mike’s lies. The smelly sock invaded his mouth, prodded by four hands’ worth of fingers. The large garments seemed at first they couldn’t fit fully, but pressure and perseverance ensured they all went in. Brian’s jaws were stretched open, his cheeks filled. The bandage Chatham used next made the socks compact and pulled the boy’s lips against the fabric.
Mike handed his new companion a swimming cap, which Chatham slid over Brian’s skull, stretching it with his strong, nimble fingers. He had a nice touch adjusting the strands in the silicone layer as he capped him, Brian thought, unlike Mike. Mike filmed the performance; Chatham didn’t disappoint. He grabbed a roll of surgical tape and smiled. Resorting to wide gestures, he placed long strips with precision and skill to encircle his charge’s head, overlapping on a couple of inches to make a tape ring.
The man varied angles and added shorter strips across Brian’s lower face, making a web that imprisoned his jaws. Mike’s smirk annoyed Brian, but his attempt at protest died immediately, the packing making his attempt unpleasant. He had to endure being mocked by the cameraman.
TBC
[mention]cstone5725@gmail.com[/mention] It's a long-term detention, that's it. I hope the further episodes will please you too.
Chapter 23. Catching a Break
Mike left the stall, which he didn’t lock. Brian moved in his bonds; his legs could move more than usual, and the cuffs weren’t pulled overly tight. His left foot slid out; was there enough slack to get it off its stirrup?
He turned to Lester, who was squirming and making the same assessment. The boys eventually both pulled a foot out.
“Mrggrmmmpph!”
“Grmmgrmmmmmmmm!”
The gagged shouts of triumph energized the captives. For the first time in days, they had a serious shot at escaping. Brian kept twisting and rubbing his shorted bum on the smooth saddle. The restraints at his knees were loosening. He kept grumbling and trading looks of hope with Lester, who first had one of his legs free. The two lads fought hard, growing hot as they moved forward and backward, progressively overcoming the bonds’ resistance.
Lester helped Brian, and both prisoners managed to get off the saddle ten minutes later. Their arms were held tight in the single gloves, and speech was still impossible, but at least they could move, and if they found help outside, their restraints would be removed easily.
Brian took the lead. The main gates, a couple of hundreds of yards away, were open most of the time. Brian decided to follow the outside wall, sheltered by trees and away from sight if Mike went on a chase to catch them.
The hood covered his ears, but he tried hard to detect any suspicious sound. Lester imitated him and remained on the lookout for Mike, ready to crouch. No one in sight.
The last hundred yards didn’t allow for cover: they walked on the lawn with the high wall behind them. Brian noticed the gates were indeed open. The boys jogged, cautious not to fall while eager to reach freedom at last.
Brian looked outside the gates. The road was empty of cars and passersby. But a small van was parked on the mud road facing the gates leading into the forest. Brian crossed the road, followed by Lester. It was empty, but if someone had come to pick wood or take a walk, they could be back soon.
Their inability to speak impaired the two friends. Many courses of action were available, but they found it impossible to discuss their merits and pick the best one. Thankfully, a man appeared around the curve tens of yards ahead walking towards them: six feet tall, greying hair, in his late thirties, wearing a light green jacket and a pair of tans.
Lester and Brian wiggled and called for assistance, but the stranger didn’t pick on their call. He walked faster as soon as he identified the boys’ weird accessories and their striking demeanour.
He was breathless and wide-eyed when he caught up with them. The boys realized how weird they had to look. The man just mumbled ‘oh, my, oh my,’ and looked at their hoods and gloves. He went for Brian’s hood without a word, fumbling with the back to remove it. The lock made this impossible.
The man, dressed in casual country chic, headed to the back of the van. For tools, the boys thought.
“Come!” he waved at Lester and Brian. and opened the van’s back doors. The man grabbed a bag, but he didn’t pull out a saw or pliers. He held coils of rope. Brian and Lester saw the danger too late! The man had his hands between their shoulder blades, and he pushed them forward, sending them on their bellies on the van’s floor. Lester kicked and squirmed longer than his friend, but only because the man took care of Brian first. Their ankles were wrapped in rope soon, the end of which was tied to their gloves, effectively hogtying them.
After this new assailant slammed the back doors shut, he climbed in the driver’s seat and glided the car slowly down the alley. The man crossed the road carefully and drove into the estate.
“Mike told me of the challenge he’s put you lads through, and I’m impressed you’re up to it!”
The prisoners recognized the voice: it was Chatham, the pervy stalking creep who’d bound and gagged his teenage neighbour.
“Fooling you was funny. The prank is a bit mean, I confess, but we don’t want you to meet anyone dressed like this, do we?”
The van stopped at the back of the mansion. Chatham pulled them out of the vehicle and had them on their feet. Mike appeared in the doorframe.
“They jumped in your arms, Severin! I told you you could fool them easily! Come on, lads, hop to Uncle Mike!”
Brian and Lester traded puzzled looks but complied. Mike helped them climb the three steps leading to the kitchen door.
“Welcome back, boys! Glad you took the opportunity. You’ve met Severin, who’s come to visit for a couple days. He came with Sebastian, of course, because we thought you’d all benefit from spending time with boys your age who enjoy your hobby.”
Mike and Chatham worked on replacing the ropes on the boys’ legs with chains. Mike led the group to the living room. Sebastian was there already, sitting on a wheelchair to which he was strictly restrained. He wore a tracksuit, and his lower face disappeared behind layers of tightly wrapped fabric, the ends sticking from each side at the back of his head. His big blue eyes were locked on the newcomers.
“Here they are in the flesh, Seb,” Chatham said. “My neighbour was impressed by your performance, boys, and I talked to Mike about it. Sebastian was glad that you could spare some time for him and postpone your personal plans. I told you he had issues finding people his age to play with. You might have understood from what I told that I had him spend three weeks as a kidnap victim; being imprisoned with peers should make his captivity lighter to bear, at least for a moment. And getting acquainted with tie-up game players may be good in the future. Who knows, if you lads hit it off, you may have other sessions on your own when school starts over.”
Brian’s mind reeled. He was left in the dark on Mike’s plans, at least his goal, and here was another dubious character who could have actually kidnapped this—cute—boy Sebastian and pretended he was ‘helping’ him.
Mike looked at the three bound and gagged captives, smirking.
“I like the idea, Severin. Experiencing adversity together helps build character. We should make the most of these few days and have the lads roleplay the helpless prisoners. I have more ideas of escape challenges, Severin. We may have them all hold a part of the solution to their escape problem, having to cooperate to make it work fully. We shouldn’t be mollified into treating them lightly but do our best that they get the prisoner experience. The gags add to their distress, don’t they? Though distress didn’t prevent our two scoundrels from walking away from the stables.”
“We’re going to see that they can’t do it again,” Mr. Chatham suggested.
“Exactly. Three poor abducted boys under the watch of careful, professional keepers—this is the scenario they all want to enact!”
The garrulous men went on chit-chatting, though they didn’t fail to act. Mike had prepared leather harnesses that they set over Lester’s and Brian’s shoulders and torso. The abductors linked the straps attached between their shoulder blades to Sebastian’s wheelchair so they could pull it behind them.
“You’ll pull your new friend to the classroom. I’m sure he longs to be in there and check for himself.”
Mike opened the door and closed it back after the carriage went through. The ‘horses’ drew the wheelchair at a steady pace while Chatham and Mike followed leisurely.
“Having them so well restrained is pure genius, Mike: teenage boys are prone to do stupid and dangerous things, especially during the summer, and I doubt these three boys will be up to any mischief.”
“No run-ins with the law or substance abuse either,” Mike added.
Brian and Lester fumed but they kept pulling as the two men babbled about how better bonds would lead to better behaviour.
Once at the guest house, the men removed the harnesses and released Sebastian from his chair, cuffing him and hobbling his knees with three inches of chain. Mike opened the door, waving the boys in. They complied and crossed the entry hall to climb upstairs to the classroom.
The two men looked at their charges.
“Brian and Lester, you’re going to welcome your fellow-prisoner by binding him to his desk in ropes. To prove your respect, you’ll perform a perfect tie-up; if Sebastian escapes your bonds, you’ll have failed. By the way, you could get off the trestles at the stable because I made it possible. If Sebastian manages release within an hour, I’ll take it you wanted him to escape and you’ll spend a night ball-tied in a trunk.”
Lester and Brian obeyed and picked the coils of rope available one at a time. After they had the newbie sit down, they trussed him up to the desk one limb at a time. Sebastian didn’t make their job difficult. Both binders noticed how inflated his tracksuit pants were when they bound his legs.
They turned to Mike and Chatham, showing they were done; the two men inspected their job.
“The knots look sturdy, Mike.”
“They do, but the only valid test is to check it holds the prisoner for at least an hour. Meanwhile, you may give me a hand in binding these two to their poles so they can watch their friend while they undergo the penalty for getting caught in their escape attempt.”
The two friends grew used to the treatment; they’d spent a good part of their days tied to these poles already. The novelty was the talk between Mike and Chatham, who was always most willing to ask questions and get tips from the charismatic gardener.
Once they had them bundled to the metal bars with rope, Mike called tea time. He went to get a pitcher of water; Chatham went along and came back with a vanity case. Brian and Lester got their glass of water and their biscuit first, which were the prelude to a new gag. Mike made clear it had to be silencing and punishing so they wouldn’t fail next time. Brian hadn’t intended to fail, and if he were to succeed, the man would end up behind bars!
“I have Sebastian’s socks to stuff their mouths. He’d worn them for three days. Hopefully he didn’t sweat too much …”
“Don’t be soft on them, Severin. They like it strong and harsh.”
“True. It’s a good way to get acquainted, anyway.”
The devious kidnappers joined forces for the feeding and the gagging. Brian never got a chance to disprove any of Mike’s lies. The smelly sock invaded his mouth, prodded by four hands’ worth of fingers. The large garments seemed at first they couldn’t fit fully, but pressure and perseverance ensured they all went in. Brian’s jaws were stretched open, his cheeks filled. The bandage Chatham used next made the socks compact and pulled the boy’s lips against the fabric.
Mike handed his new companion a swimming cap, which Chatham slid over Brian’s skull, stretching it with his strong, nimble fingers. He had a nice touch adjusting the strands in the silicone layer as he capped him, Brian thought, unlike Mike. Mike filmed the performance; Chatham didn’t disappoint. He grabbed a roll of surgical tape and smiled. Resorting to wide gestures, he placed long strips with precision and skill to encircle his charge’s head, overlapping on a couple of inches to make a tape ring.
The man varied angles and added shorter strips across Brian’s lower face, making a web that imprisoned his jaws. Mike’s smirk annoyed Brian, but his attempt at protest died immediately, the packing making his attempt unpleasant. He had to endure being mocked by the cameraman.
TBC
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Chapter 24 Group Therapy
Brian then witnessed Lester sharing his fate: the same treatment, the same food, and the same ‘dessert,’ which he had to feed his friend. The stockings weren’t large, but an additional piece of underwear ensured a proper wadding. Chatham was keen on mummifying his victims’ heads; his frank, happy smile upset Brian. A pang of guilt struck the bound viewer, moved by the creepy man gagging his roommate.
“You’ve got a knack for this, Severin,” Mike praised as Chatham stepped back and checked his work’s symmetry.
“I’ve always enjoyed good work, and I try binding my prisoners accordingly. Sebastian would testify to it, were he not gagged so thoroughly.”
“If he’s making any progress with his escape, it doesn’t show.”
The two men decided to have a beverage downstairs, whereas the boys were admonished to try and escape, or else. Brian and Lester felt no slack in their bonds, the ropes gripping them so strongly they couldn’t twist their wrists at all. They gave up soon after testing their ropework, captivated by the show in front of them; they watched the new boy squirm. Lester hoped the boy would manage to free himself and remove their gags. They would then be able to tell him they’d been abducted.
Brian feared a victory from the newcomer would mean more penalties for them. Prideful, he also wished he’d bound the cute young man solidly enough to trap him. Sebastian’s eyes really caught Brian’s attention. In turn, the newcomer watched Lester and Brian and told them stuff that the gag muffled. He looked mad, shaking and trying to get rid of his gag, but the ropes held and the tens of minutes he spent squirming led nowhere.
When Mike and Chatham came back, Sebastian was red and sweaty, acting furious about his inability to loosen his bonds.
“Your new friends tie a mean knot, Seb,” Chatham taunted, “or maybe you like being bound and gagged so much you gave up on purpose.”
“In both cases he gets a penalty,” Mike said.
“What do you have in mind?” Chatham asked.
“He should join his punished classmates. There are enough poles to handle several unruly boys at once; this facility was designed with groups in mind.”
Brian felt more guilt as the two men framed Sebastian and moved him from the desk to the pole. The twink in his tight tracksuit looked small and frail in the hands of the two large men. He gave a fight, which gave Lester hope, but Mike twisted the captive’s arm, causing a gagged grunt of pain.
“He’s feisty, Severin, but leave him to me a couple days and I’ll tame the little beast!”
“You heard, boy. Behave!” Chatham rejoiced.
The roping-up made the two fiends cheerful; they applied coil after coil, immobilizing his limbs against the hard metal. Chatham asked Mike to take care of Sebastian’s head. The gardener put a swimming cap on the boy’s skull to start with, less delicately than his counterpart. Mike’s big fingers were precise nonetheless, and the tape strips that followed didn’t crease. Soon the latest pupil enrolled in his class wore the official headwear: a white helmet.
“The three classmates will get acquainted further. It’s teatime, and I’ve got great scones. We’re safe with these scoundrels; they’re not going to flee any time soon.”
Mike and Chatham disappeared downstairs, loudly praising each other for their kidnapping feat. The three prisoners traded faint Morse messages. Brian thought hard before he spelled a word in the event the cameras and mikes were activated. He stayed noncommittal with the newbie, enquiring on simple facts as his age or whether his bonds were too tight.
Sebastian wiggled in them gleefully; from Brian’s point of view, the ropes were loosening and losing their neatness. He tried his own bonds, pumping his muscles and flexing his joints, moving his limbs around. He was gaining slack, but it felt like another trick from the abductors.
Brian looked at his fellow-prisoners. At least, none of their heads were taped to the pole. He could turn to either side, being in the middle with another bound boy five feet away. All three boys experienced the same positive outcome from their shaking and wriggling. Sebastian, for his part, displayed an obscene bulge on his tracksuit’s front.
Brian’s mind reeled. Was the teen boy enjoying a bondage vacation? Or was Chatham’s story just a cover-up for an actual abduction as in Mike’s case? He went on squirming in the hope he would get rid of his bonds and gag in time to explain Sebastian what was really going on. He noticed Lester had a boner too, and he felt he wasn’t faring any better from watching the nylon they tented with their hard cocks.
The three escape artists all hit a snag at roughly the same time; their bonds had been woven and knotted with built-in slack, which was limited and insufficient to slide out of them. The moves got more desperate, the efforts grew, the faces reddened, and sweat drenched their sports outfits as the prisoners couldn’t gain further loosening.
Tea lasted a while, but the abductors’ steps from the staircase foretold their coming. Mike and Chatham entered, dressed as a construction worker and a lumberjack.
“Our silly snoops are staying still,” Chatham hissed.
“Yes, too bad they came upon our smuggling ring. Taking walks in the woods can be dangerous. One should not poke his nose into other people’s business …”
“Now we’ll have to keep them with us for a few days. They can go only once our business is done and we’re far away.”
The two men had prepared their act, which mesmerized their captive audience.
“I know of a place to have them spend the night. It’s out of sight and we’ll keep them gagged well to make sure they can’t warn a soul of their presence. We could have them there longer. It’s remote and no one ever checks the place.”
Chatham enjoyed the prospect of moving the boys to another secluded location. In no time, the prisoners trio stood in front of the cottage, Brian and Lester harnessed to the wheelchair on which Sebastian sat strapped.
Mike’s instructions led the carriage to his own dwelling, which was the gamekeeper’s lodge in his tale. He drew a key out of his pocket and brandished it.
“The gamekeeper’s on vacation, but I have the only other key, so you’ll stay locked in,” he said, walking past the captives to open the door. He let them in, pulling the chair up the step with Chatham. With everyone in, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
The men removed the reins, and Mike dragged the prisoners to the bedroom at the back of the small cottage. He opened a large wardrobe, which Brian knew and whose inside had been redone. Rings, straps, and bars had been fixed at many points, and not randomly. It looked like four captives could be crammed in this medieval holding cell. Three would do for now, their captors being motivated in trying out the facility.
“You’re going to spend some time in here, so we’ll prepare you,” Mike sternly announced.
One after the other, the three teenage boys were rid of their current bonds to be dressed up, pulled inside the wardrobe, arms stretched above their heads, their ankles and knees held in rings inside the wardrobe.
The dressing-up was memorable; Brian witnessed how Sebastian was being immobilized inside the wardrobe and got him worried. The boy fought, but the two kidnappers had practiced together: they twisted his arms subtly, refraining from inflicting pain, unless of course their charge decided not to cooperate.
Chatham had handled Sebastian before, and it was clear to Brian the boy role-played. He trusted his playmate. They stripped him off his tracksuit. The jacket was first, his arms temporarily held with rope around his elbows pulling them behind his back.
Mike shucked off the boy’s pants. The lad wore black silk panties underneath, with a pouch cut to host his eight inches of manhood. He’d grown less turgid from the men’s announcement, realizing that his fantasy coming reality could have him in over his head. He held on, reassured by the two other players. Brian and Lester were a treat for him to watch, and he wanted to prove his bravery.
Chatham pulled a bag from the side of the bed, a large piece of luggage which he set on a chair.
“As we’re going to store you away for a while, we’ll save you from any unsavoury outcome. You’ll be protected.”
Brian realized with horror what the gear he took out from the bag was for: putting them in nappies! As they took care of Sebastian, pulling down his underwear and having him lie on his back on the bed, sticking the nappy along his loins, closing the tabs and leaving him with a padded middle. They had PVC pants to cover the thick nappy.
“This will solve any leaking problem,” Mr. Chatham stated.
The crinkly layer felt humiliating to Sebastian. They removed the endless lengths of bandage and tape around his head until at last his lips were free and the odious packing crammed in his mouth for so long pulled out. He had big, crimson lips that improved his looks; they didn’t stay in sight long, as a baby bottle’s teat was crammed in his mouth.
“As told, you need to be prepared,” Mike said, having crossed the young masochist’s look.
Once he fed Sebastian, Mike slid a rubber dummy’s fat bulb through the boy’s lips. Two wide straps buckled over his nape to keep the formidable mass in, the plate covering a wide area around his lips.
“It’s milder but it should keep you reasonably quiet,” he commented, padlocking the buckle shut.
They put him in a bright yellow onesie. It was satiny silk and made-to-measure. They slid his legs in first, and then his hands through the sleeves. They mittened him before they cuffed his hands together. Chatham slid the zip up his back, locking him into the gleaming layer, which also fitted him like a glove.
The efforts to immobilize him inside the wardrobe were minimal. They lifted him, linked his hands in cuffs to a bar running at the top, used the six straps to pin him to the back of the storage place, and they were done.
They repeated the process with Lester, and Brian’s turn came last. The porridge was lukewarm if not cold, but he got fruit juice afterwards. The nappy was thick and compressed his groin, his cock drowned in the cellulose mass.
The mittens were evil; each finger slid through rings that tightened as he pushed his hands in and kept them as one, thumbs folded inside the palms. The men were experts in control and prevented any act of resistance before it happened.
It took one hour, but the three kidnap victims had been put away for good.
“Meddling snoops should be more cautious and pick safe investigations. Your choice to annoy us has consequences, but you may go a full twenty-four hours inside your closet without us being bothered by the boy-detectives. Have a good night, Hardy Boys!”
The two doors closing plunged the boys into darkness.
“Enjoy your stay, you won’t be bound and gagged like this for more than a week!”
Brian thought he heard the entrance door being shut; the latch was loud and removed all doubt. They were stuck. Leather cuffs at all joints were linked to rings in the back. A short wire length pulled them against it. Straps had anchoring points on each side of their bodies, and the men had used straps that were three inches wide. There were seven of them.
The boys started grunting. It took them three minutes to decide who would start emitting, but eventually the conversation kicked off. It was mainly insults towards their captors or words of comfort. Hours went by with their exchanges petering down until they fell deeply asleep.
TBC
Brian then witnessed Lester sharing his fate: the same treatment, the same food, and the same ‘dessert,’ which he had to feed his friend. The stockings weren’t large, but an additional piece of underwear ensured a proper wadding. Chatham was keen on mummifying his victims’ heads; his frank, happy smile upset Brian. A pang of guilt struck the bound viewer, moved by the creepy man gagging his roommate.
“You’ve got a knack for this, Severin,” Mike praised as Chatham stepped back and checked his work’s symmetry.
“I’ve always enjoyed good work, and I try binding my prisoners accordingly. Sebastian would testify to it, were he not gagged so thoroughly.”
“If he’s making any progress with his escape, it doesn’t show.”
The two men decided to have a beverage downstairs, whereas the boys were admonished to try and escape, or else. Brian and Lester felt no slack in their bonds, the ropes gripping them so strongly they couldn’t twist their wrists at all. They gave up soon after testing their ropework, captivated by the show in front of them; they watched the new boy squirm. Lester hoped the boy would manage to free himself and remove their gags. They would then be able to tell him they’d been abducted.
Brian feared a victory from the newcomer would mean more penalties for them. Prideful, he also wished he’d bound the cute young man solidly enough to trap him. Sebastian’s eyes really caught Brian’s attention. In turn, the newcomer watched Lester and Brian and told them stuff that the gag muffled. He looked mad, shaking and trying to get rid of his gag, but the ropes held and the tens of minutes he spent squirming led nowhere.
When Mike and Chatham came back, Sebastian was red and sweaty, acting furious about his inability to loosen his bonds.
“Your new friends tie a mean knot, Seb,” Chatham taunted, “or maybe you like being bound and gagged so much you gave up on purpose.”
“In both cases he gets a penalty,” Mike said.
“What do you have in mind?” Chatham asked.
“He should join his punished classmates. There are enough poles to handle several unruly boys at once; this facility was designed with groups in mind.”
Brian felt more guilt as the two men framed Sebastian and moved him from the desk to the pole. The twink in his tight tracksuit looked small and frail in the hands of the two large men. He gave a fight, which gave Lester hope, but Mike twisted the captive’s arm, causing a gagged grunt of pain.
“He’s feisty, Severin, but leave him to me a couple days and I’ll tame the little beast!”
“You heard, boy. Behave!” Chatham rejoiced.
The roping-up made the two fiends cheerful; they applied coil after coil, immobilizing his limbs against the hard metal. Chatham asked Mike to take care of Sebastian’s head. The gardener put a swimming cap on the boy’s skull to start with, less delicately than his counterpart. Mike’s big fingers were precise nonetheless, and the tape strips that followed didn’t crease. Soon the latest pupil enrolled in his class wore the official headwear: a white helmet.
“The three classmates will get acquainted further. It’s teatime, and I’ve got great scones. We’re safe with these scoundrels; they’re not going to flee any time soon.”
Mike and Chatham disappeared downstairs, loudly praising each other for their kidnapping feat. The three prisoners traded faint Morse messages. Brian thought hard before he spelled a word in the event the cameras and mikes were activated. He stayed noncommittal with the newbie, enquiring on simple facts as his age or whether his bonds were too tight.
Sebastian wiggled in them gleefully; from Brian’s point of view, the ropes were loosening and losing their neatness. He tried his own bonds, pumping his muscles and flexing his joints, moving his limbs around. He was gaining slack, but it felt like another trick from the abductors.
Brian looked at his fellow-prisoners. At least, none of their heads were taped to the pole. He could turn to either side, being in the middle with another bound boy five feet away. All three boys experienced the same positive outcome from their shaking and wriggling. Sebastian, for his part, displayed an obscene bulge on his tracksuit’s front.
Brian’s mind reeled. Was the teen boy enjoying a bondage vacation? Or was Chatham’s story just a cover-up for an actual abduction as in Mike’s case? He went on squirming in the hope he would get rid of his bonds and gag in time to explain Sebastian what was really going on. He noticed Lester had a boner too, and he felt he wasn’t faring any better from watching the nylon they tented with their hard cocks.
The three escape artists all hit a snag at roughly the same time; their bonds had been woven and knotted with built-in slack, which was limited and insufficient to slide out of them. The moves got more desperate, the efforts grew, the faces reddened, and sweat drenched their sports outfits as the prisoners couldn’t gain further loosening.
Tea lasted a while, but the abductors’ steps from the staircase foretold their coming. Mike and Chatham entered, dressed as a construction worker and a lumberjack.
“Our silly snoops are staying still,” Chatham hissed.
“Yes, too bad they came upon our smuggling ring. Taking walks in the woods can be dangerous. One should not poke his nose into other people’s business …”
“Now we’ll have to keep them with us for a few days. They can go only once our business is done and we’re far away.”
The two men had prepared their act, which mesmerized their captive audience.
“I know of a place to have them spend the night. It’s out of sight and we’ll keep them gagged well to make sure they can’t warn a soul of their presence. We could have them there longer. It’s remote and no one ever checks the place.”
Chatham enjoyed the prospect of moving the boys to another secluded location. In no time, the prisoners trio stood in front of the cottage, Brian and Lester harnessed to the wheelchair on which Sebastian sat strapped.
Mike’s instructions led the carriage to his own dwelling, which was the gamekeeper’s lodge in his tale. He drew a key out of his pocket and brandished it.
“The gamekeeper’s on vacation, but I have the only other key, so you’ll stay locked in,” he said, walking past the captives to open the door. He let them in, pulling the chair up the step with Chatham. With everyone in, he slammed the door shut and locked it.
The men removed the reins, and Mike dragged the prisoners to the bedroom at the back of the small cottage. He opened a large wardrobe, which Brian knew and whose inside had been redone. Rings, straps, and bars had been fixed at many points, and not randomly. It looked like four captives could be crammed in this medieval holding cell. Three would do for now, their captors being motivated in trying out the facility.
“You’re going to spend some time in here, so we’ll prepare you,” Mike sternly announced.
One after the other, the three teenage boys were rid of their current bonds to be dressed up, pulled inside the wardrobe, arms stretched above their heads, their ankles and knees held in rings inside the wardrobe.
The dressing-up was memorable; Brian witnessed how Sebastian was being immobilized inside the wardrobe and got him worried. The boy fought, but the two kidnappers had practiced together: they twisted his arms subtly, refraining from inflicting pain, unless of course their charge decided not to cooperate.
Chatham had handled Sebastian before, and it was clear to Brian the boy role-played. He trusted his playmate. They stripped him off his tracksuit. The jacket was first, his arms temporarily held with rope around his elbows pulling them behind his back.
Mike shucked off the boy’s pants. The lad wore black silk panties underneath, with a pouch cut to host his eight inches of manhood. He’d grown less turgid from the men’s announcement, realizing that his fantasy coming reality could have him in over his head. He held on, reassured by the two other players. Brian and Lester were a treat for him to watch, and he wanted to prove his bravery.
Chatham pulled a bag from the side of the bed, a large piece of luggage which he set on a chair.
“As we’re going to store you away for a while, we’ll save you from any unsavoury outcome. You’ll be protected.”
Brian realized with horror what the gear he took out from the bag was for: putting them in nappies! As they took care of Sebastian, pulling down his underwear and having him lie on his back on the bed, sticking the nappy along his loins, closing the tabs and leaving him with a padded middle. They had PVC pants to cover the thick nappy.
“This will solve any leaking problem,” Mr. Chatham stated.
The crinkly layer felt humiliating to Sebastian. They removed the endless lengths of bandage and tape around his head until at last his lips were free and the odious packing crammed in his mouth for so long pulled out. He had big, crimson lips that improved his looks; they didn’t stay in sight long, as a baby bottle’s teat was crammed in his mouth.
“As told, you need to be prepared,” Mike said, having crossed the young masochist’s look.
Once he fed Sebastian, Mike slid a rubber dummy’s fat bulb through the boy’s lips. Two wide straps buckled over his nape to keep the formidable mass in, the plate covering a wide area around his lips.
“It’s milder but it should keep you reasonably quiet,” he commented, padlocking the buckle shut.
They put him in a bright yellow onesie. It was satiny silk and made-to-measure. They slid his legs in first, and then his hands through the sleeves. They mittened him before they cuffed his hands together. Chatham slid the zip up his back, locking him into the gleaming layer, which also fitted him like a glove.
The efforts to immobilize him inside the wardrobe were minimal. They lifted him, linked his hands in cuffs to a bar running at the top, used the six straps to pin him to the back of the storage place, and they were done.
They repeated the process with Lester, and Brian’s turn came last. The porridge was lukewarm if not cold, but he got fruit juice afterwards. The nappy was thick and compressed his groin, his cock drowned in the cellulose mass.
The mittens were evil; each finger slid through rings that tightened as he pushed his hands in and kept them as one, thumbs folded inside the palms. The men were experts in control and prevented any act of resistance before it happened.
It took one hour, but the three kidnap victims had been put away for good.
“Meddling snoops should be more cautious and pick safe investigations. Your choice to annoy us has consequences, but you may go a full twenty-four hours inside your closet without us being bothered by the boy-detectives. Have a good night, Hardy Boys!”
The two doors closing plunged the boys into darkness.
“Enjoy your stay, you won’t be bound and gagged like this for more than a week!”
Brian thought he heard the entrance door being shut; the latch was loud and removed all doubt. They were stuck. Leather cuffs at all joints were linked to rings in the back. A short wire length pulled them against it. Straps had anchoring points on each side of their bodies, and the men had used straps that were three inches wide. There were seven of them.
The boys started grunting. It took them three minutes to decide who would start emitting, but eventually the conversation kicked off. It was mainly insults towards their captors or words of comfort. Hours went by with their exchanges petering down until they fell deeply asleep.
TBC
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Chapter 25. Field Trip
Boisterous laughter woke up Brian, Lester, and Sebastian, pulling them out of intense fetish dreams of tight captivity with abductors interested in their young, healthy cocks. Coming to their senses, they saw Mike and Chatham’s merry faces as they blinked.
“It is eight already, but given the narcotic in the fruit juice, I’m sure you all slept well. See, boys like you can adapt. That’s good. Some of you benefitted from the protection down there, judging by the smell,” Chatham said, ogling the three vulnerable boys. Brian and Sebastian had peed in their nappies.
The two men pulled the boys out of the wardrobe one after the other, giving them a baby bottle’s worth of porridge before they cleaned them up and put clothes on them.
The three boys were bound to chairs in Mike’s kitchen, all dressed in schoolboy uniforms. Their short shorts, tight silk shirts, and satiny jackets made their shoulders look broader and cinched their waists. The dummies didn’t match the outfits nor the white cotton rope that nailed the boys to the chairs.
Chatham and Mike traded the silicone silencers for scarves, abundant and effective substitutes. At least the plentiful fabric stuffed in their mouths was clean this time. The thin silk cords that pulled the initial packing in were pulled gradually, tightened to hold the mass in place. Additional bands crushed their jaws and lips around the silk ball.
Both captors hovered over their preys, waving their phones around to film the symmetry and skill that restrained these young men.
“You look spiffy, lads, and ready for your journey. We have to move you to another location, as we’ve heard of a possible police raid and we’ve got to move our merchandise. You’re part of our loot!”
Brian protested Mike’s taunt to no avail. The men disappeared. They heard steps going away outside, but someone was still downstairs. After ten or fifteen minutes, an engine’s low roar faded in until it stopped in front of the cottage.
Chatham came to pick their “students” one by one, summarily binding their wrists behind their backs and dragging them downstairs and out the door. Brian was first; he saw the small van, its tinted windows reflecting his bound and gagged figure. Chatham used a remote and a side door opened, gliding back. The van featured four cushy seats with straps and buckles that the kidnap victim identified immediately.
They sat Brian on the other side of the door, buckling straps going under his armpits, plexus, and waist to pin him to the curved, body-shaped seat. His arms, forearms, and thighs all benefited from similar straps, easy to fix and dreadfully sturdy once buckled and locked against the armrests and footrests.
Sebastian joined him to his right; eventually Lester was strapped in front of Brian too. The seats made them feel as tightly immobilized as ever. Chatham ended his job sliding eye masks to blindfold their passengers.
“You can’t be allowed to see where we take you. It’s for your own protection, understand?”
The fiends climbed in the van; Chatham drove. Brian heard the vehicle rolling on the gravel, then on the mud road, then the concrete alley, then gravels again, and they were outside the estate. But the turns and twists of this endless drive had him lost soon. He didn’t know the whereabouts so well beyond the first mile or so. There were lots of paths and secondary roads within a ten-mile radius that he’d never trodden.
The seats were comfortable indeed, especially since the car was going around bends and turning all the time, Chatham enjoying a brisk pace. The passengers were properly maintained.
“Doing OK back there?” Mike asked. “We’ll get to your new detention centre soon. Don’t grow too impatient.”
The tight gags censored the feisty replies, and the drive went on peacefully. The vehicle stopped after rolling on gravels again. The passengers were unloaded in the reverse order of their boarding. Their blindfolds stayed on throughout.
Brian waited for his turn; his companions were picked from the van within ten minutes of each other. The two men took him inside a building and bound his legs before freeing his arms and torso. His jacket went away, and they slid his arms in two silk-lined sleeves that turned out to be a straitjacket. The long arms were thick canvas contrasting with the soft lining. The straps ending the sleeves pulled his hands far back on his ribs. The sleeves had more straps that held his elbows and shoulders rigid as one block.
His legs were freed from the ropes first and then from his clothing, the shorts and underwear sliding down his ankles. Brian felt a new bulky nappy clutching his middle and PVC bloomers trapping it under a waterproof layer. Mike—Brian knew his touch—wrapped a leather collar around his neck, making space among the scarves’ knots to buckle it shut.
They walked him upstairs still blind. They entered a room with metal walls on each side, and Brian was lifted, his feet landing on a hard surface. A karabiner snapped on the D-ring on his neck. His minder removed his blindfold; Brian blinked.
“This place was designed to keep meddlers away for a long time if needed. We’ve adopted more sanitary measures with your pull-up protections, but the cage has drains to collect waste, so it can be cleaned from the outside. I know you wish you weren’t gagged so you could thank us. Don’t squirm around too much. Your collar is fixed to the top—don’t hang yourselves. Enjoy and meditate on how silly it is to get too inquisitive about people without being cautious.”
Chatham shut the narrow doors of the cage that had five boxes to hold prisoners separated by large steel plates, but with bars in front. Brian could see the room outside. It was a generic attic. They were under a roof with no insulation, so it was warm already in the morning.
“We’ll keep you locked so you don’t run to the police, but it’s also for protection. No one can harm you now, can they?”
Chatham’s sanctimonious tone had Brian’s hair rise on his head.
“We’ve got stuff to do, and we need to know no issue will arise from you. Keeping you in cages is a good way. You’re all locked now. We can get busy, Mike.”
Brian couldn’t see the staircase but heard them climb it down. He couldn’t see his fellow-prisoners, but he grunted to inquire about them. They exchanged in Morse, censoring themselves in case their abductors had bugged the room. The setting seemed vaguely familiar to Brian, but he’d been to many places, visited many estates where his friends lived, sometimes exploring them, playing hide and seek or cops and robbers. He’d been in many attics.
The hours went by; Brian grew hot. The captors hadn’t changed his gag, so he felt dry and thirsty. The straitjacket made any hope for self-liberation frivolous.
Brian dozed off picturing himself in a crib along with Lester and Sebastian. They had shrunk, and when Chatham appeared, a rubber apron over his headmaster suit, he was three times as tall as they were.
He came to his senses as if a wasp stung him. His forehead was dripping with sweat. He suspected they’d really spiked the fruit juice, and that he was still feeling the effects of whatever narcotic these fiends had them ingest.
He got two or three similar fits as the stuffy atmosphere had him nod on and off. Eventually, the real culprits faced them. An electric light was on, illuminating their captors’ jolly faces.
“I hope you enjoy staying in the coop, my little roosters. It’s a convenient place to store you in, and it looks like it worked: you stayed away from trouble, and you didn’t cause any trouble from what we see.”
The room had cooled down, and the light coming through the skylight faded down too. Chatham and Mike took them out of their lockers drenched in sweat and wobbly. Their legs were freed from the leather straps keeping them together, though a length remained, preventing overly long steps and making kicking impossible.
The boys were linked by their collars, eight inches of steel chain keeping Sebastian away from Brian, the same length keeping Lester trailing. The staircase was steep and Chatham stood at the bottom, ready to prevent a catastrophe. The three captives worked together and moved their limbs in sync; they reached the bottom trouble-free.
Brian had another feeling he knew the location; Chatham led them outside, through a door at the end of the room the staircase landed in. They’d been kept in the ward’s lodge, at the estate! Mike had driven them around only to come back to his starting point. Brian felt fooled; Mike faced him outside the building, picking on his displeasure.
“Wasn’t it a good prank, Bri? My good friend Severin told me of Sebastian’s taste for stories with prisoners being moved around in vehicles, smuggled out to remote locations like a secluded barn, where they could be held and kept incommunicado for days or even weeks!”
“Sebastian loves reading stories on the internet that deal with young men being abducted. He’s linked many of them to me, and I’ve read them and talked with him about them, to understand what he likes best,” Chatham confided, walking around the chained trio to check the restraints were adequate.
The ward’s lodge was next to the gates, but they were closed this time, and they couldn’t be seen from the road. They headed to the left, towards the stables. Brian’s mind tried to anticipate what Mike had in mind. Pony training? He knew enough pervs to give him such ideas.
The procession walked to the back of the stables. A small pasture lied in front, and Brian saw the old stone and brick building the stables leaned on: the bake house. He was right, and they entered the old, cool building, the sun setting behind them and lighting the large, austere room in a warm glow, their shadows projecting on the back wall.
The bake house dated several centuries; Brian’s father was glad it still worked. Every year, villagers would come and light it up during a festival, and bake cakes and pies would be brought back to the commons, a few miles away, where the village celebrated.
Brian got a pang of anxiety. He’d read about vore fetishes, and he pictured the two abductors as cannibals about to cook them.
“Calm down, Brian. The oven isn’t on. We’ve heard some of your colleagues are on your trail, and better safe than sorry, no? We’ll hide you somewhere nobody can find you!”
Sebastian was overwhelmed with arousal, shaking and trembling as his fantasy came true. Brian saw the leatherware, the sleeping bags, and the oven’s open door, and he understood.
Single boots completed the straitjackets, coming up mid-thighs and uniting their lower limbs. Their gags were removed, another bottle of sweet liquid put to their lips, and plug gags put back in. They stood in the sleeping bags, which were pulled up to their necks and strapped at five points.
One by one, the helpless prisoners were stuck inside the oven. Lester was set on the right, Sebastian on the left, and Brian in the middle, their heads on the door’s side. The floor was cold brick, and the ceiling was three inches above their eyes. Sebastian loved it, and Lester didn’t mind. Brian, on the other hand, wondered whether he was claustrophobic. He didn’t like the cramped space. He could feel his companions, but once again he had to admit he would be in this predicament for a while, the dreadful Mike having found an accomplice, and possibly a boy who’d schemed to get the man to enact his fantasies.
“It’s a perfect temperature to keep meddlers at: not too warm, not too cold, and think how remote this place is. And the door is thick, the space so scarce that your gagged attempts will remain unheard, even from someone in the room,” Chatham announced gleefully.
The heavy door closed slowly, raking against the brick. The latch clattered, sealing the opening shut. The three boys were entombed, without any idea of the duration the fiendish captors had in mind. Brian and Lester traded words in Morse, soon joined by their new acquaintance. The exchange was frustrating, and the feedback Sebastian provided was disconcerting. Kept prisoner in his own home, the young landlord wasn’t sure his spelling ‘abducted, really kidnapped Mike Chatham kidnappers’ and other similar strings got the message through. Sebastian replied with words like ‘tied gag for long time great.’
TBC
Boisterous laughter woke up Brian, Lester, and Sebastian, pulling them out of intense fetish dreams of tight captivity with abductors interested in their young, healthy cocks. Coming to their senses, they saw Mike and Chatham’s merry faces as they blinked.
“It is eight already, but given the narcotic in the fruit juice, I’m sure you all slept well. See, boys like you can adapt. That’s good. Some of you benefitted from the protection down there, judging by the smell,” Chatham said, ogling the three vulnerable boys. Brian and Sebastian had peed in their nappies.
The two men pulled the boys out of the wardrobe one after the other, giving them a baby bottle’s worth of porridge before they cleaned them up and put clothes on them.
The three boys were bound to chairs in Mike’s kitchen, all dressed in schoolboy uniforms. Their short shorts, tight silk shirts, and satiny jackets made their shoulders look broader and cinched their waists. The dummies didn’t match the outfits nor the white cotton rope that nailed the boys to the chairs.
Chatham and Mike traded the silicone silencers for scarves, abundant and effective substitutes. At least the plentiful fabric stuffed in their mouths was clean this time. The thin silk cords that pulled the initial packing in were pulled gradually, tightened to hold the mass in place. Additional bands crushed their jaws and lips around the silk ball.
Both captors hovered over their preys, waving their phones around to film the symmetry and skill that restrained these young men.
“You look spiffy, lads, and ready for your journey. We have to move you to another location, as we’ve heard of a possible police raid and we’ve got to move our merchandise. You’re part of our loot!”
Brian protested Mike’s taunt to no avail. The men disappeared. They heard steps going away outside, but someone was still downstairs. After ten or fifteen minutes, an engine’s low roar faded in until it stopped in front of the cottage.
Chatham came to pick their “students” one by one, summarily binding their wrists behind their backs and dragging them downstairs and out the door. Brian was first; he saw the small van, its tinted windows reflecting his bound and gagged figure. Chatham used a remote and a side door opened, gliding back. The van featured four cushy seats with straps and buckles that the kidnap victim identified immediately.
They sat Brian on the other side of the door, buckling straps going under his armpits, plexus, and waist to pin him to the curved, body-shaped seat. His arms, forearms, and thighs all benefited from similar straps, easy to fix and dreadfully sturdy once buckled and locked against the armrests and footrests.
Sebastian joined him to his right; eventually Lester was strapped in front of Brian too. The seats made them feel as tightly immobilized as ever. Chatham ended his job sliding eye masks to blindfold their passengers.
“You can’t be allowed to see where we take you. It’s for your own protection, understand?”
The fiends climbed in the van; Chatham drove. Brian heard the vehicle rolling on the gravel, then on the mud road, then the concrete alley, then gravels again, and they were outside the estate. But the turns and twists of this endless drive had him lost soon. He didn’t know the whereabouts so well beyond the first mile or so. There were lots of paths and secondary roads within a ten-mile radius that he’d never trodden.
The seats were comfortable indeed, especially since the car was going around bends and turning all the time, Chatham enjoying a brisk pace. The passengers were properly maintained.
“Doing OK back there?” Mike asked. “We’ll get to your new detention centre soon. Don’t grow too impatient.”
The tight gags censored the feisty replies, and the drive went on peacefully. The vehicle stopped after rolling on gravels again. The passengers were unloaded in the reverse order of their boarding. Their blindfolds stayed on throughout.
Brian waited for his turn; his companions were picked from the van within ten minutes of each other. The two men took him inside a building and bound his legs before freeing his arms and torso. His jacket went away, and they slid his arms in two silk-lined sleeves that turned out to be a straitjacket. The long arms were thick canvas contrasting with the soft lining. The straps ending the sleeves pulled his hands far back on his ribs. The sleeves had more straps that held his elbows and shoulders rigid as one block.
His legs were freed from the ropes first and then from his clothing, the shorts and underwear sliding down his ankles. Brian felt a new bulky nappy clutching his middle and PVC bloomers trapping it under a waterproof layer. Mike—Brian knew his touch—wrapped a leather collar around his neck, making space among the scarves’ knots to buckle it shut.
They walked him upstairs still blind. They entered a room with metal walls on each side, and Brian was lifted, his feet landing on a hard surface. A karabiner snapped on the D-ring on his neck. His minder removed his blindfold; Brian blinked.
“This place was designed to keep meddlers away for a long time if needed. We’ve adopted more sanitary measures with your pull-up protections, but the cage has drains to collect waste, so it can be cleaned from the outside. I know you wish you weren’t gagged so you could thank us. Don’t squirm around too much. Your collar is fixed to the top—don’t hang yourselves. Enjoy and meditate on how silly it is to get too inquisitive about people without being cautious.”
Chatham shut the narrow doors of the cage that had five boxes to hold prisoners separated by large steel plates, but with bars in front. Brian could see the room outside. It was a generic attic. They were under a roof with no insulation, so it was warm already in the morning.
“We’ll keep you locked so you don’t run to the police, but it’s also for protection. No one can harm you now, can they?”
Chatham’s sanctimonious tone had Brian’s hair rise on his head.
“We’ve got stuff to do, and we need to know no issue will arise from you. Keeping you in cages is a good way. You’re all locked now. We can get busy, Mike.”
Brian couldn’t see the staircase but heard them climb it down. He couldn’t see his fellow-prisoners, but he grunted to inquire about them. They exchanged in Morse, censoring themselves in case their abductors had bugged the room. The setting seemed vaguely familiar to Brian, but he’d been to many places, visited many estates where his friends lived, sometimes exploring them, playing hide and seek or cops and robbers. He’d been in many attics.
The hours went by; Brian grew hot. The captors hadn’t changed his gag, so he felt dry and thirsty. The straitjacket made any hope for self-liberation frivolous.
Brian dozed off picturing himself in a crib along with Lester and Sebastian. They had shrunk, and when Chatham appeared, a rubber apron over his headmaster suit, he was three times as tall as they were.
He came to his senses as if a wasp stung him. His forehead was dripping with sweat. He suspected they’d really spiked the fruit juice, and that he was still feeling the effects of whatever narcotic these fiends had them ingest.
He got two or three similar fits as the stuffy atmosphere had him nod on and off. Eventually, the real culprits faced them. An electric light was on, illuminating their captors’ jolly faces.
“I hope you enjoy staying in the coop, my little roosters. It’s a convenient place to store you in, and it looks like it worked: you stayed away from trouble, and you didn’t cause any trouble from what we see.”
The room had cooled down, and the light coming through the skylight faded down too. Chatham and Mike took them out of their lockers drenched in sweat and wobbly. Their legs were freed from the leather straps keeping them together, though a length remained, preventing overly long steps and making kicking impossible.
The boys were linked by their collars, eight inches of steel chain keeping Sebastian away from Brian, the same length keeping Lester trailing. The staircase was steep and Chatham stood at the bottom, ready to prevent a catastrophe. The three captives worked together and moved their limbs in sync; they reached the bottom trouble-free.
Brian had another feeling he knew the location; Chatham led them outside, through a door at the end of the room the staircase landed in. They’d been kept in the ward’s lodge, at the estate! Mike had driven them around only to come back to his starting point. Brian felt fooled; Mike faced him outside the building, picking on his displeasure.
“Wasn’t it a good prank, Bri? My good friend Severin told me of Sebastian’s taste for stories with prisoners being moved around in vehicles, smuggled out to remote locations like a secluded barn, where they could be held and kept incommunicado for days or even weeks!”
“Sebastian loves reading stories on the internet that deal with young men being abducted. He’s linked many of them to me, and I’ve read them and talked with him about them, to understand what he likes best,” Chatham confided, walking around the chained trio to check the restraints were adequate.
The ward’s lodge was next to the gates, but they were closed this time, and they couldn’t be seen from the road. They headed to the left, towards the stables. Brian’s mind tried to anticipate what Mike had in mind. Pony training? He knew enough pervs to give him such ideas.
The procession walked to the back of the stables. A small pasture lied in front, and Brian saw the old stone and brick building the stables leaned on: the bake house. He was right, and they entered the old, cool building, the sun setting behind them and lighting the large, austere room in a warm glow, their shadows projecting on the back wall.
The bake house dated several centuries; Brian’s father was glad it still worked. Every year, villagers would come and light it up during a festival, and bake cakes and pies would be brought back to the commons, a few miles away, where the village celebrated.
Brian got a pang of anxiety. He’d read about vore fetishes, and he pictured the two abductors as cannibals about to cook them.
“Calm down, Brian. The oven isn’t on. We’ve heard some of your colleagues are on your trail, and better safe than sorry, no? We’ll hide you somewhere nobody can find you!”
Sebastian was overwhelmed with arousal, shaking and trembling as his fantasy came true. Brian saw the leatherware, the sleeping bags, and the oven’s open door, and he understood.
Single boots completed the straitjackets, coming up mid-thighs and uniting their lower limbs. Their gags were removed, another bottle of sweet liquid put to their lips, and plug gags put back in. They stood in the sleeping bags, which were pulled up to their necks and strapped at five points.
One by one, the helpless prisoners were stuck inside the oven. Lester was set on the right, Sebastian on the left, and Brian in the middle, their heads on the door’s side. The floor was cold brick, and the ceiling was three inches above their eyes. Sebastian loved it, and Lester didn’t mind. Brian, on the other hand, wondered whether he was claustrophobic. He didn’t like the cramped space. He could feel his companions, but once again he had to admit he would be in this predicament for a while, the dreadful Mike having found an accomplice, and possibly a boy who’d schemed to get the man to enact his fantasies.
“It’s a perfect temperature to keep meddlers at: not too warm, not too cold, and think how remote this place is. And the door is thick, the space so scarce that your gagged attempts will remain unheard, even from someone in the room,” Chatham announced gleefully.
The heavy door closed slowly, raking against the brick. The latch clattered, sealing the opening shut. The three boys were entombed, without any idea of the duration the fiendish captors had in mind. Brian and Lester traded words in Morse, soon joined by their new acquaintance. The exchange was frustrating, and the feedback Sebastian provided was disconcerting. Kept prisoner in his own home, the young landlord wasn’t sure his spelling ‘abducted, really kidnapped Mike Chatham kidnappers’ and other similar strings got the message through. Sebastian replied with words like ‘tied gag for long time great.’
TBC
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
No comments for two weeks in a row? Low page views? Did this story lose its appeal to the readership? Should I post the final episode next week? 
Chapter 26. Dastardly Plans
The inside of the oven was warm and dark. Brian hoped venting ensured an intake of air somewhere. He wished Lester and Sebastian good night; the bondage allowed for sleep, and drowsiness overcame him. He dove into sleep, his brain stimulated by his predicament and the narcotic he’d imbibed.
Was it also an aphrodisiac? He was surrounded by half-clad bodies and boners popped up everywhere. He pictured Lester, Andrew, Percy, and even Sebastian all wearing skimpy clothing, gagged, and bound with rope that encircled their limbs and wrapped the gleaming fabrics around their bodies.
Bulges got kneaded by leather-gloved hands, buttocks brushed against thighs, chests pressed chests—Brian’s mind was overcome by lust. The three boys writhed and moaned vivid dreams running through them, unleashing their strongest fetish fantasies.
Brian awoke, aware of the cold between his legs. The nappy limited the dampness feeling, yet he couldn’t ignore he’d wet himself. The bodies at his sides stirred slowly after a while. He felt maybe Sebastian would be more receptive to his plea now, but Mike and Chatham came to thwart another attempt.
The gust of fresh air and the shrieking hinges of the door opening came unannounced.
“Rise and shine, boys! Time to get up. Your friend Sebastian is leaving today, and we want you to enjoy one last moment with him.”
The abductees let the two men handle them. They all had wet their diapers and got shamed for it before being set naked in the tub, chained, and scrubbed.
The routine went flawlessly. In the end, a quick bite preceded the inflatable muzzle gags. Then, dressed in their tight, shiny uniforms and hobbled in chains, the trio was led outside and down to the gazebo.
It was still an hour before the sun would be up, but the men could see clearly enough to apply their skills with the bounty of cordage they had at hand. Each boy was treated with care as the two men discussed the best way to restrain their victims in pole-ties that would enhance their looks and talent.
The three boys were made to feel like objects, pretty things that would be paraded in a pageant for nasty, ill-minded sadists who relished humiliating young men with ridiculous outfits and bizarre restraints. The loops surrounded their limbs around their joints and pulled them tight against the beams. The painted wood was hard but bearable. At least it wasn’t cold.
Chatham seemed to pick up on designing and applying crotch ropes. He wrapped belts of cord around the boys’ waists to anchor other coils that wedgied them, pulling their underwear and shorts tights against their cocks and balls. Binding the ends at the back of the beam kept the prisoners on tiptoe. Brian’s and Sebastian’s arms were stuck along the beam, whereas Lester’s were pulled across the small of his back.
Once done, the two captors gloated and congratulated each other for their hard work while making videos of the outcome.
“I’ll have to come back soon. It’s a pleasure to take care of these youths with someone like you.”
The devious gardener pricked up his ears, always eager glad to get praise.
“You’re thorough and passionate,” Chatham continued. “Considering the amount of work enacting a tie-up fantasy, it’s a great gift for Brian and Lester. And getting them access to gear to make their dreams come true—I’m sure they’ll remember you forever.”
The compliments beefed up Mike’s ego. The men filmed the knots in close-up, checking them and tightening two they deemed weak. The two men left their preys.
They came back half an hour later, pushing a large flight case with video gear in it. Each captive got his own tripod and camera while the goons used handheld ones with lighter tripods for experimenting with angles and distance. Mike was developing a knack for taking good pictures.
He tried funny angles and played with his camera’s settings. The models writhed and squirmed upon the videographers’ requests. The bonds had them standing tall, chests puffed out; their gagged moans made for great footage.
The two men tried all points of view before they put down their cameras. The sun had been up for a while, and they left for breakfast. The cameras on their tripods had red LEDs on; Brian refrained from trying again to get his warning and call for help across to Sebastian. The merry tie-up lover kept struggling and trying out his gag.
Brian endured, standing in the shade of the luxurious gazebo, held fast though relatively comfortable. He cast glances at his artfully trussed-up friends dressed in their tight gleaming shorts, wearing their precious shirts, waistcoats, jackets, and neckties. He was getting used to the stringent bonds himself. It beat the previous night in the tight and frightening oven.
The warm breeze had Brian enjoy the fleeting moment. He heard the sound of an engine in the distance. The van appeared behind a coppice, rolling slowly on the gravel alleys that were barely wide enough for cars. It parked in front of the gazebo, letting the two kidnappers out.
“You didn’t go anywhere, Sebastian. Good for you!” Chatham said. “You’ll get a snack before we get you on board for another move. I’m afraid you’re going to part with your new friends.”
“We’ll do our best to get news through video calls so our friends don’t lose contact,” Mike reassured.
Chatham carried a large bag he set on the floor. He unzipped it briefly so the lanky boy wouldn’t see its content and pulled a baby bottle out. Mike removed Sebastian’s inflatable gag and Chatham stuck the rubber teat between the pole-tied boy’s lips. He sucked and pumped, ingesting the liquid much fast. Mike had a second bottle ready when the boy emptied the first.
The second bottle went down slower. Chatham was in ambush, moving in with bundled socks when Mike pulled the bottle out.
“It would be nice if you took something from your new friends for the journey. Mike gave me the socks they wore yesterday and overnight: you’ll be sucking on them on the way back. I hope you’ll be grateful for the gift.”
Sebastian nodded sheepishly and took the large sock ball in.
“I’ll tape his lips up to show respect,” Mike said.
That was a euphemism for mummifying the boy’s head with a swimming cap and many rolls of tape.
“This one has great eyes. Isn’t it striking how beautiful they are when they’re the only part of his head not swathed in tape?”
“He’s a handsome fellow,” Chatham confirmed. “That’s another advantage of having him spend the summer playing the prisoner: we keep him away from view and he won’t seduce anyone. He could get girls pregnant.”
Brian wondered about the boy’s sexual orientation, having assumed he was gay. Chatham could be telling anything he wanted anyway, knowing he wouldn’t be rebutted.
“I’ll give him a ride back. And don’t fret, Mike. I’ll store him away. He won’t be found and he won’t snitch on us.”
They gathered around their prey and released him from the pole, chaining and then marching him to the van. Through the windows, Brian saw them strapping him to one of the seats. He looked at Lester, grunting, to share his feelings of doubt and puzzlement as to this boy’s real status.
Brian wondered whether Chatham knew they hadn’t volunteered to play with Mike. At no point during their stay had the noisy neighbour acknowledged their plight.
The obsequious man came to wish them good-bye.
“I hope you stay nice and quiet and that you’ll be willing to have Sebastian visit again. If Mike tells me you behave, who knows? We could have you less strenuously tied up so you enjoy each other’s company more.”
He’d talked as a matchmaker more than once, which Brian found creepy. Mike walked Chatham to the van tens of feet away; they spoke not to be heard, which made Brian and Lester wary. The malevolent beings were all smiles and joy even if they couldn’t hear what they were saying. They were rid of Chatham after another five minutes.
Mike climbed the three steps back up to the platform.
“It all went fine. I hope you’ll be grateful for making new acquaintances. You can’t say I had you spend a lonely summer, Brian. I’m sure you loved the wimpy lad Chatham brought along. Fascinating tale, huh? The kind neighbour, who looks like a predator if you ask me, and the frustrated teenage kinkster who gets a helping hand.”
Mike went to get a plastic armchair in the storage space below and sat comfortably facing his prisoners. He had a camera in one hand, a lit cigar in the other, and he took his sweet time having the boys give replies; he’d tell them of their lines and have them practice until he got a convincing performance.
He put the camera down and got a laptop out of the bag.
“I’m also glad to have found support. I’m sure you love having wealthy benefactors too. The wardrobe in my house, the cages in the ward’s lodge … all these great toys you get to play with! You lads must be living the adventure of a lifetime. You didn’t grow soft all this time I filmed you. The zoom made it obvious.”
Brian and Lester endured the taunts. They stayed mum.
“Talking to all these people gave me an idea. I’m sure you’ll love it, Bri. Getting a ransom from your parents would mean fleeing after freeing you. I like staying better. But days go by, and I have to make a choice. We have time but need to move fast. We just had a trial run, and now we’re going to do it for real!”
The cryptic words raised Brian and Lester’s attention. Mike laid it all out bare in front of them for the next half hour. Had their jaws not been secured solidly, they'd have dropped as Mike presented his scheme to them. It all made sense, and with the heavy conditioning they’d undergone for over a week, the boys took his tale’s conclusions as inescapable.
Mike saw the defeat in their eyes. Maybe he would go easy on them this evening.
TBC
Chapter 26. Dastardly Plans
The inside of the oven was warm and dark. Brian hoped venting ensured an intake of air somewhere. He wished Lester and Sebastian good night; the bondage allowed for sleep, and drowsiness overcame him. He dove into sleep, his brain stimulated by his predicament and the narcotic he’d imbibed.
Was it also an aphrodisiac? He was surrounded by half-clad bodies and boners popped up everywhere. He pictured Lester, Andrew, Percy, and even Sebastian all wearing skimpy clothing, gagged, and bound with rope that encircled their limbs and wrapped the gleaming fabrics around their bodies.
Bulges got kneaded by leather-gloved hands, buttocks brushed against thighs, chests pressed chests—Brian’s mind was overcome by lust. The three boys writhed and moaned vivid dreams running through them, unleashing their strongest fetish fantasies.
Brian awoke, aware of the cold between his legs. The nappy limited the dampness feeling, yet he couldn’t ignore he’d wet himself. The bodies at his sides stirred slowly after a while. He felt maybe Sebastian would be more receptive to his plea now, but Mike and Chatham came to thwart another attempt.
The gust of fresh air and the shrieking hinges of the door opening came unannounced.
“Rise and shine, boys! Time to get up. Your friend Sebastian is leaving today, and we want you to enjoy one last moment with him.”
The abductees let the two men handle them. They all had wet their diapers and got shamed for it before being set naked in the tub, chained, and scrubbed.
The routine went flawlessly. In the end, a quick bite preceded the inflatable muzzle gags. Then, dressed in their tight, shiny uniforms and hobbled in chains, the trio was led outside and down to the gazebo.
It was still an hour before the sun would be up, but the men could see clearly enough to apply their skills with the bounty of cordage they had at hand. Each boy was treated with care as the two men discussed the best way to restrain their victims in pole-ties that would enhance their looks and talent.
The three boys were made to feel like objects, pretty things that would be paraded in a pageant for nasty, ill-minded sadists who relished humiliating young men with ridiculous outfits and bizarre restraints. The loops surrounded their limbs around their joints and pulled them tight against the beams. The painted wood was hard but bearable. At least it wasn’t cold.
Chatham seemed to pick up on designing and applying crotch ropes. He wrapped belts of cord around the boys’ waists to anchor other coils that wedgied them, pulling their underwear and shorts tights against their cocks and balls. Binding the ends at the back of the beam kept the prisoners on tiptoe. Brian’s and Sebastian’s arms were stuck along the beam, whereas Lester’s were pulled across the small of his back.
Once done, the two captors gloated and congratulated each other for their hard work while making videos of the outcome.
“I’ll have to come back soon. It’s a pleasure to take care of these youths with someone like you.”
The devious gardener pricked up his ears, always eager glad to get praise.
“You’re thorough and passionate,” Chatham continued. “Considering the amount of work enacting a tie-up fantasy, it’s a great gift for Brian and Lester. And getting them access to gear to make their dreams come true—I’m sure they’ll remember you forever.”
The compliments beefed up Mike’s ego. The men filmed the knots in close-up, checking them and tightening two they deemed weak. The two men left their preys.
They came back half an hour later, pushing a large flight case with video gear in it. Each captive got his own tripod and camera while the goons used handheld ones with lighter tripods for experimenting with angles and distance. Mike was developing a knack for taking good pictures.
He tried funny angles and played with his camera’s settings. The models writhed and squirmed upon the videographers’ requests. The bonds had them standing tall, chests puffed out; their gagged moans made for great footage.
The two men tried all points of view before they put down their cameras. The sun had been up for a while, and they left for breakfast. The cameras on their tripods had red LEDs on; Brian refrained from trying again to get his warning and call for help across to Sebastian. The merry tie-up lover kept struggling and trying out his gag.
Brian endured, standing in the shade of the luxurious gazebo, held fast though relatively comfortable. He cast glances at his artfully trussed-up friends dressed in their tight gleaming shorts, wearing their precious shirts, waistcoats, jackets, and neckties. He was getting used to the stringent bonds himself. It beat the previous night in the tight and frightening oven.
The warm breeze had Brian enjoy the fleeting moment. He heard the sound of an engine in the distance. The van appeared behind a coppice, rolling slowly on the gravel alleys that were barely wide enough for cars. It parked in front of the gazebo, letting the two kidnappers out.
“You didn’t go anywhere, Sebastian. Good for you!” Chatham said. “You’ll get a snack before we get you on board for another move. I’m afraid you’re going to part with your new friends.”
“We’ll do our best to get news through video calls so our friends don’t lose contact,” Mike reassured.
Chatham carried a large bag he set on the floor. He unzipped it briefly so the lanky boy wouldn’t see its content and pulled a baby bottle out. Mike removed Sebastian’s inflatable gag and Chatham stuck the rubber teat between the pole-tied boy’s lips. He sucked and pumped, ingesting the liquid much fast. Mike had a second bottle ready when the boy emptied the first.
The second bottle went down slower. Chatham was in ambush, moving in with bundled socks when Mike pulled the bottle out.
“It would be nice if you took something from your new friends for the journey. Mike gave me the socks they wore yesterday and overnight: you’ll be sucking on them on the way back. I hope you’ll be grateful for the gift.”
Sebastian nodded sheepishly and took the large sock ball in.
“I’ll tape his lips up to show respect,” Mike said.
That was a euphemism for mummifying the boy’s head with a swimming cap and many rolls of tape.
“This one has great eyes. Isn’t it striking how beautiful they are when they’re the only part of his head not swathed in tape?”
“He’s a handsome fellow,” Chatham confirmed. “That’s another advantage of having him spend the summer playing the prisoner: we keep him away from view and he won’t seduce anyone. He could get girls pregnant.”
Brian wondered about the boy’s sexual orientation, having assumed he was gay. Chatham could be telling anything he wanted anyway, knowing he wouldn’t be rebutted.
“I’ll give him a ride back. And don’t fret, Mike. I’ll store him away. He won’t be found and he won’t snitch on us.”
They gathered around their prey and released him from the pole, chaining and then marching him to the van. Through the windows, Brian saw them strapping him to one of the seats. He looked at Lester, grunting, to share his feelings of doubt and puzzlement as to this boy’s real status.
Brian wondered whether Chatham knew they hadn’t volunteered to play with Mike. At no point during their stay had the noisy neighbour acknowledged their plight.
The obsequious man came to wish them good-bye.
“I hope you stay nice and quiet and that you’ll be willing to have Sebastian visit again. If Mike tells me you behave, who knows? We could have you less strenuously tied up so you enjoy each other’s company more.”
He’d talked as a matchmaker more than once, which Brian found creepy. Mike walked Chatham to the van tens of feet away; they spoke not to be heard, which made Brian and Lester wary. The malevolent beings were all smiles and joy even if they couldn’t hear what they were saying. They were rid of Chatham after another five minutes.
Mike climbed the three steps back up to the platform.
“It all went fine. I hope you’ll be grateful for making new acquaintances. You can’t say I had you spend a lonely summer, Brian. I’m sure you loved the wimpy lad Chatham brought along. Fascinating tale, huh? The kind neighbour, who looks like a predator if you ask me, and the frustrated teenage kinkster who gets a helping hand.”
Mike went to get a plastic armchair in the storage space below and sat comfortably facing his prisoners. He had a camera in one hand, a lit cigar in the other, and he took his sweet time having the boys give replies; he’d tell them of their lines and have them practice until he got a convincing performance.
He put the camera down and got a laptop out of the bag.
“I’m also glad to have found support. I’m sure you love having wealthy benefactors too. The wardrobe in my house, the cages in the ward’s lodge … all these great toys you get to play with! You lads must be living the adventure of a lifetime. You didn’t grow soft all this time I filmed you. The zoom made it obvious.”
Brian and Lester endured the taunts. They stayed mum.
“Talking to all these people gave me an idea. I’m sure you’ll love it, Bri. Getting a ransom from your parents would mean fleeing after freeing you. I like staying better. But days go by, and I have to make a choice. We have time but need to move fast. We just had a trial run, and now we’re going to do it for real!”
The cryptic words raised Brian and Lester’s attention. Mike laid it all out bare in front of them for the next half hour. Had their jaws not been secured solidly, they'd have dropped as Mike presented his scheme to them. It all made sense, and with the heavy conditioning they’d undergone for over a week, the boys took his tale’s conclusions as inescapable.
Mike saw the defeat in their eyes. Maybe he would go easy on them this evening.
TBC
-
Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Chapter 27 – The more, the merrier …
Andrew was excited when he got a text message from Brian. They were good friends from school and had shared their summer plans; both would be home at the same time, and since they lived fifteen miles away, they could plan a sleepover or a day of games at Brian’s.
Andrew had been invited to his friend’s place before. The large estate allowed for privacy even if Brian’s parents were home. The boy had turned all his dorm buddies into TUG players and even converted some to his hobby. Most of them had been invited to spend time at the Fitzcharles’ manor, where they’d ended up bound and gagged in secluded locations.
Brian told Andrew to come over for an entire week. His parents wouldn’t be there at first, which guaranteed TUGs. In the evening, Andrew’s mom told him of Brian’s father’s call. She didn’t mind: she was on her summer break, and a seventeen-year-old hanging out in the house all the time was growing annoying. She even offered Andrew a ride.
In the evening, Andrew packed a bag with equipment that would prove useful for TUGs. He pictured Brian bound with his blue cotton rope and gagged with duct tape, trapping a sock or a bandana inside his gob.
Andrew’s heart beat fast: he was quite aroused when he went to bed that evening. Emotions streamed through his blood, keeping him hard and euphoric. He had bold feelings towards his roommates. The boy lay in bed and released the pressure with a good wank; after cumming, he smiled to himself, his mind making up more wonderful plans for days of erotic fun with Brian and possibly other friends—he’d used a ‘we’ in one of his messages. Lester, maybe? Lester was hot, and he had a sexy tracksuit that didn’t leave Andrew cold.
The boy slipped into slumber, his lips curled into an angelic smile.
Thirty miles away, Percy was still up and sharing Andrew’s state of mind. He was putting the final touch to his luggage. The tall, wiry black boy was looking forward to another stay at Brian’s too. He’d always had lots of fun with so much space to play tie-up games: trees in secluded places, barns, and attics … and his friend managed to keep him kidnapped and incommunicado, which felt great.
They’d talked about spending some time together, and Percy’s heart beat faster when he got Brian’s invitation on his phone. He quickly agreed and exchanged messages on what he should bring and when he should arrive.
Elated, Percy packed for a week, taking his nicest sportswear along. Summer and spending time outdoors would make his shorts and tracksuits adequate and sexy clothing. Percy pictured his friends and Brian binding them all; this got the lad all worked up. He took ropes and tape also: it was considered good manners at Brian’s to come equipped.
He went to bed and wanked several times to work out his lustful feelings and calm down. He hoped Brian would get him to cum, but his twisted mate tended to keep them eager for all sorts of releases and to ignore their bulges. Percy eventually went to sleep after honouring his wank rag a third time.
The next morning, Andrew woke up at dawn, had breakfast, showered, and dressed up in his light tracksuit—with Speedos underneath, to please Brian. He loaded his bags on his bike and said goodbye to his mom, who was getting up.
Andrew relished riding his bike in the still fresh air, which cooled him down as he paddled eagerly, swallowing the road that separated him from his friend’s estate. It took a solid hour, but he reached the Fitzcharles’ property and texted Brian as he passed the open gates.
He rode down the alley that wound through trees and coppices to the main building. The door opened and Brian showed up at the top of the small stone staircase. Andrew set his bike down and took his bag. His friend let him in. A video camera on a tripod stood in the middle of the hall.
“Stay still,” Brian ordered.
A shiver ran down Andrew’s spine; he froze. His roommate stood behind him and grabbed him, pulling his arms behind his back. Andrew didn’t fight the steel cuffs that ensnared his wrists.
“When I catch meddlers, I handle them right. You’re going to stay here until I’ve straightened you out.”
The double entendre had Andrew chuckle until a palm crushed his lips.
“Not a sound! Meddlers aren’t allowed to talk,” Brian hissed.
He picked a sock from his football shorts’ back pocket and crammed it inside his prey’s mouth. He clamped his hand on Andrew’s lips again and bent down to open the bag, forcing the prisoner on his knees.
“Mmmrggrmmbllmm!”
“I’ll find something to make sure you can’t spit the sock out. I’ve worn it only two days, be grateful.”
Brian found a roll of duct tape inside, which gave an obvious immediate solution. He unrolled the end with his thumb and stuck the two inches on Andrew’s cheek. The teenage captor lowered his hand to Andrew’s chin and clamped his friend’s jaws around the wadding while he spun the roll four times around the head.
“This should shut you up. Now you’ve walked into the lion’s den, you’ll have to enjoy his company.”
Brian was so good at playing the villain. Andrew swooned. His friend was threading cuffs around his thighs, just above his knees.
“Your bag is full of kidnapping equipment! So you intended to abduct me?”
Andrew denied, shaking his head and moaning in his gag.
“I thwarted your plan. Now you’re under my control. I can’t keep you here, but I have a place where no one will find you. Cooperate, or I will enforce unpleasant conditions.”
One hand on Andrew’s shoulder, the bag in the other, Brian led the way. They crossed the hall, the kitchen, and went out the back. Andrew wondered where Brian was taking him: the gazebo? Or the guest house? They’d played in both.
The sun cast warm rays as they walked through the estate, Brian keeping mum and Andrew in no condition to make conversation. The guest house it was, as they took on the left at the fork. Andrew had fantasized about this place since he’d first been brought there the autumn before. Even though it was remote and had trees around, Brian kept his prisoners in closed spaces and gagged nonetheless.
It had impressed Andrew’s young mind, and he relished feeling helpless in the depth of the woods. The hobbles slowed him down, which helped to conceal the boner tenting his Speedos.
Brian briefly let go of Andrew’s shoulder to open the door to the house. He led his captive upstairs, staying behind and enjoying the show offered by Andrew’s legs and bottom wrapped in the shiny fabric. He stepped in front on the landing and opened the door to what Andrew knew as the playroom: a bedroom large enough to run an electric train or build a fort with plastic bricks.
Andrew noticed the change straight away, at the same time he noticed Lester. The room had been turned into an old-time classroom, featuring poles on the podium, to which one of his other dormmates was tightly trussed up. His eyes were drawn to the body, wrapped in sexy clothes and sculpted by the ropes binding him cruelly to the pole. Lester looked at him wide-eyed, mumbling in his gag. His lower face was swathed in white tape, and no doubt his mouth was packed full underneath.
“I caught a pilferer in the orchard, and I’ve got this place to detain him. He’s going to be punished with a long detention, and so will you!”
Brian helped his friend up on the platform, where a small table brimmed with coils of rope. One of the poles had seven tied to them with a technique Brian had used before. He removed the captive’s cuffs and locked them back with the chain behind the pole.
Brian performed a methodical job, wrapping and tightening each of the seven ropes in turn from Andrew’s shoulders to his ankles, each pulling him closer and tighter to the metal bar.
“Nice start,” he said, taking a step back to assess his handiwork, “but we can do better.”
He used more coils to cinch and tighten the setup, even adding a crotch rope that pulled the tracksuit’s front to give his Speedos ample space to develop if needed––which it did.
“The trespassers have to pay for their misdeed!” Brian announced. “I’ve got two of you to watch, but I’m confident you’re safe here. No escape is possible. I’ll go get some stuff to torment you. Time will pass quicker for you if I torture you, won’t it?”
Brian disappeared outside, closing the door behind him. Andrew could turn his head, and he crossed looks with Lester. Andrew found the bulge in his fellow-prisoner’s fancy, dark gleaming bloomers sexy.
Andrew hadn’t come around to learning Morse, so the gag talk was limited, though Andrew found it super-hot hearing Lester try to say stuff. He wriggled in his bonds; the ropes held, and since Brian let the steel cuffs on, even if he got rid of the web, he would remain stuck to the pole.
Andrew wasn’t good at tracking time, but it didn’t seem very long when he heard heavy steps climbing the stairs. Brian was back for fun. The door opened, and his friend appeared in the frame.
“Mrrmggrmph?!”
Andrew let out a long cry of surprise. It was Brian—he recognized his friend’s eyes—but the rest of his face was hidden under a layer of kid leather. The leather shorts and the high-heeled boots gave his friend a bizarre look. Andrew had seen such costumes in kinky videos online, but he’d never seen one in real life.
Brian being made into a fetish doll was striking enough, but the presence of a guard behind him was more troubling. Andrew was vaguely acquainted with his features. He soon realized the bulky man dressed in summer countryside chic was the gardener. What was this man doing taking Brian prisoner?
His friend strutted through the room, the man on his heels. The bulky man picked him up by the waist and lifted him onto the platform like a feather. He leaped behind.
“Welcome to our little house in the woods, Andrew. I know a lot about you through Brian. I’m sure you’ll like your stay here. Now, Brian is trying out a new outfit, which he ordered on the internet. He asked me if I could give him a hand, and he’s let me know about your coming, so we decided to play a little trick.”
The man went to the desk and opened a side cabinet.
“Some more accessories to try out,” he said, pushing Brian against the pole. He put a neck brace around the boy’s throat. It wasn’t a medical one but a leather type covering a hard shell of plastic. It had rings attached, and that’s where Mike’s accessories came into play.
“See,” he told Andrew, “Brian’s glove makes it difficult to bind him in ropes to the pole, and these puppies should make him immobile in no time.
Mike had steel fixtures that clamped on the pole; a rod stuck out, ending in a ring that made an anchoring point. Mike used three at first: one at Brian’s neck, rigidly fixed to the posture collar, one to his wrists sewn to the glove, and one featuring two prongs for each ankle.
Mike jumped down to have a look.
“Go ahead, Bri, try and get out!”
Brian complied; the simple setup was effective. Motion was limited, and escape, unimaginable. His knees could move, though.
“I’ll fix the legs, I’ve got more.”
Mike wrapped leather cuffs above Brian’s knees, and both were kept an inch from the pole at the back thanks to the devious fixtures.
“What about now?”
Four anchoring points were enough. Brian was defeated.
“You’ll be quiet while I talk to our new guest. Let me first check you did a good job.”
Andrew was inspected closely, puzzled by this twist. First, Lester was there too, now this man …
“You must be wondering what it’s all about, Andrew,” Mike said. “Brian wanted to play a little trick on his friends. He surprised you with his outfit. He’s got one more guest who’ll come later on who’s a friend of yours too, I assume. You know Percy, don’t you?”
Andrew nodded. Brian had set up a group event, with the gardener’s help? It wasn’t what he expected, but it could be even better. Lester and Percy were both hot. He had spent time in captivity with them before, an event he remembered fondly.
“Brian didn’t botch his knots, which is good.”
The bulky man stepped down from the platform. He paced back and forth in front.
“You all look bound well. I can’t hear you make much sense with these thick gags of yours.”
A phone buzzed inside Mike’s breast pocket. He took it out, looked at the screen, and started texting.
“Brian and Lester like challenges, Andrew. They’ve proved it over the last couple days. Now, with a new guest coming, I can give you a challenge and make sure the stakes are important enough. Now, I’ve texted your friend Percy some directions. He’s going to come here on his own and join you. If one of you manages to get freed within two minutes, you win. Otherwise, you all spend the rest of the day bound to your poles. I hope you’ll do your best. I don’t like winning just because my opponents give up.”
TBC
Andrew was excited when he got a text message from Brian. They were good friends from school and had shared their summer plans; both would be home at the same time, and since they lived fifteen miles away, they could plan a sleepover or a day of games at Brian’s.
Andrew had been invited to his friend’s place before. The large estate allowed for privacy even if Brian’s parents were home. The boy had turned all his dorm buddies into TUG players and even converted some to his hobby. Most of them had been invited to spend time at the Fitzcharles’ manor, where they’d ended up bound and gagged in secluded locations.
Brian told Andrew to come over for an entire week. His parents wouldn’t be there at first, which guaranteed TUGs. In the evening, Andrew’s mom told him of Brian’s father’s call. She didn’t mind: she was on her summer break, and a seventeen-year-old hanging out in the house all the time was growing annoying. She even offered Andrew a ride.
In the evening, Andrew packed a bag with equipment that would prove useful for TUGs. He pictured Brian bound with his blue cotton rope and gagged with duct tape, trapping a sock or a bandana inside his gob.
Andrew’s heart beat fast: he was quite aroused when he went to bed that evening. Emotions streamed through his blood, keeping him hard and euphoric. He had bold feelings towards his roommates. The boy lay in bed and released the pressure with a good wank; after cumming, he smiled to himself, his mind making up more wonderful plans for days of erotic fun with Brian and possibly other friends—he’d used a ‘we’ in one of his messages. Lester, maybe? Lester was hot, and he had a sexy tracksuit that didn’t leave Andrew cold.
The boy slipped into slumber, his lips curled into an angelic smile.
Thirty miles away, Percy was still up and sharing Andrew’s state of mind. He was putting the final touch to his luggage. The tall, wiry black boy was looking forward to another stay at Brian’s too. He’d always had lots of fun with so much space to play tie-up games: trees in secluded places, barns, and attics … and his friend managed to keep him kidnapped and incommunicado, which felt great.
They’d talked about spending some time together, and Percy’s heart beat faster when he got Brian’s invitation on his phone. He quickly agreed and exchanged messages on what he should bring and when he should arrive.
Elated, Percy packed for a week, taking his nicest sportswear along. Summer and spending time outdoors would make his shorts and tracksuits adequate and sexy clothing. Percy pictured his friends and Brian binding them all; this got the lad all worked up. He took ropes and tape also: it was considered good manners at Brian’s to come equipped.
He went to bed and wanked several times to work out his lustful feelings and calm down. He hoped Brian would get him to cum, but his twisted mate tended to keep them eager for all sorts of releases and to ignore their bulges. Percy eventually went to sleep after honouring his wank rag a third time.
The next morning, Andrew woke up at dawn, had breakfast, showered, and dressed up in his light tracksuit—with Speedos underneath, to please Brian. He loaded his bags on his bike and said goodbye to his mom, who was getting up.
Andrew relished riding his bike in the still fresh air, which cooled him down as he paddled eagerly, swallowing the road that separated him from his friend’s estate. It took a solid hour, but he reached the Fitzcharles’ property and texted Brian as he passed the open gates.
He rode down the alley that wound through trees and coppices to the main building. The door opened and Brian showed up at the top of the small stone staircase. Andrew set his bike down and took his bag. His friend let him in. A video camera on a tripod stood in the middle of the hall.
“Stay still,” Brian ordered.
A shiver ran down Andrew’s spine; he froze. His roommate stood behind him and grabbed him, pulling his arms behind his back. Andrew didn’t fight the steel cuffs that ensnared his wrists.
“When I catch meddlers, I handle them right. You’re going to stay here until I’ve straightened you out.”
The double entendre had Andrew chuckle until a palm crushed his lips.
“Not a sound! Meddlers aren’t allowed to talk,” Brian hissed.
He picked a sock from his football shorts’ back pocket and crammed it inside his prey’s mouth. He clamped his hand on Andrew’s lips again and bent down to open the bag, forcing the prisoner on his knees.
“Mmmrggrmmbllmm!”
“I’ll find something to make sure you can’t spit the sock out. I’ve worn it only two days, be grateful.”
Brian found a roll of duct tape inside, which gave an obvious immediate solution. He unrolled the end with his thumb and stuck the two inches on Andrew’s cheek. The teenage captor lowered his hand to Andrew’s chin and clamped his friend’s jaws around the wadding while he spun the roll four times around the head.
“This should shut you up. Now you’ve walked into the lion’s den, you’ll have to enjoy his company.”
Brian was so good at playing the villain. Andrew swooned. His friend was threading cuffs around his thighs, just above his knees.
“Your bag is full of kidnapping equipment! So you intended to abduct me?”
Andrew denied, shaking his head and moaning in his gag.
“I thwarted your plan. Now you’re under my control. I can’t keep you here, but I have a place where no one will find you. Cooperate, or I will enforce unpleasant conditions.”
One hand on Andrew’s shoulder, the bag in the other, Brian led the way. They crossed the hall, the kitchen, and went out the back. Andrew wondered where Brian was taking him: the gazebo? Or the guest house? They’d played in both.
The sun cast warm rays as they walked through the estate, Brian keeping mum and Andrew in no condition to make conversation. The guest house it was, as they took on the left at the fork. Andrew had fantasized about this place since he’d first been brought there the autumn before. Even though it was remote and had trees around, Brian kept his prisoners in closed spaces and gagged nonetheless.
It had impressed Andrew’s young mind, and he relished feeling helpless in the depth of the woods. The hobbles slowed him down, which helped to conceal the boner tenting his Speedos.
Brian briefly let go of Andrew’s shoulder to open the door to the house. He led his captive upstairs, staying behind and enjoying the show offered by Andrew’s legs and bottom wrapped in the shiny fabric. He stepped in front on the landing and opened the door to what Andrew knew as the playroom: a bedroom large enough to run an electric train or build a fort with plastic bricks.
Andrew noticed the change straight away, at the same time he noticed Lester. The room had been turned into an old-time classroom, featuring poles on the podium, to which one of his other dormmates was tightly trussed up. His eyes were drawn to the body, wrapped in sexy clothes and sculpted by the ropes binding him cruelly to the pole. Lester looked at him wide-eyed, mumbling in his gag. His lower face was swathed in white tape, and no doubt his mouth was packed full underneath.
“I caught a pilferer in the orchard, and I’ve got this place to detain him. He’s going to be punished with a long detention, and so will you!”
Brian helped his friend up on the platform, where a small table brimmed with coils of rope. One of the poles had seven tied to them with a technique Brian had used before. He removed the captive’s cuffs and locked them back with the chain behind the pole.
Brian performed a methodical job, wrapping and tightening each of the seven ropes in turn from Andrew’s shoulders to his ankles, each pulling him closer and tighter to the metal bar.
“Nice start,” he said, taking a step back to assess his handiwork, “but we can do better.”
He used more coils to cinch and tighten the setup, even adding a crotch rope that pulled the tracksuit’s front to give his Speedos ample space to develop if needed––which it did.
“The trespassers have to pay for their misdeed!” Brian announced. “I’ve got two of you to watch, but I’m confident you’re safe here. No escape is possible. I’ll go get some stuff to torment you. Time will pass quicker for you if I torture you, won’t it?”
Brian disappeared outside, closing the door behind him. Andrew could turn his head, and he crossed looks with Lester. Andrew found the bulge in his fellow-prisoner’s fancy, dark gleaming bloomers sexy.
Andrew hadn’t come around to learning Morse, so the gag talk was limited, though Andrew found it super-hot hearing Lester try to say stuff. He wriggled in his bonds; the ropes held, and since Brian let the steel cuffs on, even if he got rid of the web, he would remain stuck to the pole.
Andrew wasn’t good at tracking time, but it didn’t seem very long when he heard heavy steps climbing the stairs. Brian was back for fun. The door opened, and his friend appeared in the frame.
“Mrrmggrmph?!”
Andrew let out a long cry of surprise. It was Brian—he recognized his friend’s eyes—but the rest of his face was hidden under a layer of kid leather. The leather shorts and the high-heeled boots gave his friend a bizarre look. Andrew had seen such costumes in kinky videos online, but he’d never seen one in real life.
Brian being made into a fetish doll was striking enough, but the presence of a guard behind him was more troubling. Andrew was vaguely acquainted with his features. He soon realized the bulky man dressed in summer countryside chic was the gardener. What was this man doing taking Brian prisoner?
His friend strutted through the room, the man on his heels. The bulky man picked him up by the waist and lifted him onto the platform like a feather. He leaped behind.
“Welcome to our little house in the woods, Andrew. I know a lot about you through Brian. I’m sure you’ll like your stay here. Now, Brian is trying out a new outfit, which he ordered on the internet. He asked me if I could give him a hand, and he’s let me know about your coming, so we decided to play a little trick.”
The man went to the desk and opened a side cabinet.
“Some more accessories to try out,” he said, pushing Brian against the pole. He put a neck brace around the boy’s throat. It wasn’t a medical one but a leather type covering a hard shell of plastic. It had rings attached, and that’s where Mike’s accessories came into play.
“See,” he told Andrew, “Brian’s glove makes it difficult to bind him in ropes to the pole, and these puppies should make him immobile in no time.
Mike had steel fixtures that clamped on the pole; a rod stuck out, ending in a ring that made an anchoring point. Mike used three at first: one at Brian’s neck, rigidly fixed to the posture collar, one to his wrists sewn to the glove, and one featuring two prongs for each ankle.
Mike jumped down to have a look.
“Go ahead, Bri, try and get out!”
Brian complied; the simple setup was effective. Motion was limited, and escape, unimaginable. His knees could move, though.
“I’ll fix the legs, I’ve got more.”
Mike wrapped leather cuffs above Brian’s knees, and both were kept an inch from the pole at the back thanks to the devious fixtures.
“What about now?”
Four anchoring points were enough. Brian was defeated.
“You’ll be quiet while I talk to our new guest. Let me first check you did a good job.”
Andrew was inspected closely, puzzled by this twist. First, Lester was there too, now this man …
“You must be wondering what it’s all about, Andrew,” Mike said. “Brian wanted to play a little trick on his friends. He surprised you with his outfit. He’s got one more guest who’ll come later on who’s a friend of yours too, I assume. You know Percy, don’t you?”
Andrew nodded. Brian had set up a group event, with the gardener’s help? It wasn’t what he expected, but it could be even better. Lester and Percy were both hot. He had spent time in captivity with them before, an event he remembered fondly.
“Brian didn’t botch his knots, which is good.”
The bulky man stepped down from the platform. He paced back and forth in front.
“You all look bound well. I can’t hear you make much sense with these thick gags of yours.”
A phone buzzed inside Mike’s breast pocket. He took it out, looked at the screen, and started texting.
“Brian and Lester like challenges, Andrew. They’ve proved it over the last couple days. Now, with a new guest coming, I can give you a challenge and make sure the stakes are important enough. Now, I’ve texted your friend Percy some directions. He’s going to come here on his own and join you. If one of you manages to get freed within two minutes, you win. Otherwise, you all spend the rest of the day bound to your poles. I hope you’ll do your best. I don’t like winning just because my opponents give up.”
TBC
Feeding time will take a while with 4 (at least) captives to feed....
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cstone5725@gmail.com
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 48
- Joined: 3 years ago
Oh my favorite story posts is still so hot and keeps us all wanting more.
Had been away for a week or two so hadn't had chance to post feedback.
Even being kept bound and gagged for a few days myself
I showed my top this story and ideas were used on me some over 24 hrs
Keep up the great work love it
Thank you
Had been away for a week or two so hadn't had chance to post feedback.
Even being kept bound and gagged for a few days myself
I showed my top this story and ideas were used on me some over 24 hrs
Keep up the great work love it
Thank you
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blackbound
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 1125
- Joined: 6 years ago
Percy sounds like a supremely horny lad. Looking forward to seeing what happens when his fantasy collides with this reality.
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
Three comments! Christmas has come early this year.
[mention]Jb99[/mention] That's the price of having so many captives. With proper training, one or two can be turned into maids if needed.
[mention]cstone5725@gmail.com[/mention] I'm glad you got ideas from the story, though of course you should be careful, or watched closely. But I'm glad you enjoy this tale as an inspiration. Not a handbook for tugs or relationships, obviously.
[mention]blackbound[/mention] He's bound to find out quickly!
[mention]Jb99[/mention] That's the price of having so many captives. With proper training, one or two can be turned into maids if needed.
[mention]cstone5725@gmail.com[/mention] I'm glad you got ideas from the story, though of course you should be careful, or watched closely. But I'm glad you enjoy this tale as an inspiration. Not a handbook for tugs or relationships, obviously.
[mention]blackbound[/mention] He's bound to find out quickly!
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] anonymous rubber gimps forced to be maids does it for me - especially if commands are given through a set series of vibrations administered via a Bluetooth butt plug!
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]Jb99[/mention] I think Mike might learn to enjoy such a setting.
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] tight rubber corsets to improve posture are also useful and do go some way to stop 'sudden movements' by the wearers.
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]Jb99[/mention] Idea noted for further installments!
Epilogue
Percy’s phone beeped as he passed the gates in the car his brother drove. His older sibling was always happy to drive the family car, for being a taxi driver had its perks, such as being able to visit his own friends too. He drove to the mansion and dropped Percy with his large sports bag containing stuff for a ten-day stay.
“Brian texted me he was at the guest house. I’ll walk down there, thanks. I’ll text you next week if I need a ride.”
Percy’s brother agreed, eager to leave: he’d planned a day of video games with a friend who lived ten minutes away. And he had the car for himself, no witness who would report his ‘sports’ driving as reckless.
Percy walked along the mansion’s right side and took the paths leading to the property’s back. From Brian’s cryptic texts, he’d guessed other friends were invited. The ten-minute walk had the perky lad’s mind wander, thinking of being Brian’s prisoner or being bound facing Lester as he’d been once. They had both soiled their silk briefs.
Percy entered the guest house and ran upstairs to the playroom where Brian was waiting for him. He called out as he climbed the stairs and opened the door hearing no response. Was Brian even there?
He dropped his bag as he took in the scene inside the room. Three immobile boys bound to poles squirmed and called out, their alert hampered by the muzzling setups they were fitted with. He looked around the empty room, and his gaze caught a detail on Brian’s left: an ice cube dangling at the end of a string.
Percy crossed the room and jumped onto the platform.
“Hi, Brian!”
“Mrrgrrmbbllmmph!!!”
Lester and Andrew added to the chorus of gagged wails. The handsome black lad smiled and took his time to assess the situation, being in no hurry to free anyone. He went from one boy to the other, inspecting their pole-ties, checking how thorough the gags were, pulling hair or squeezing nipples through shiny fabric. He pushed the bucket under the ice block to have the water drops fall in the middle.
“I get it, Brian,” he eventually said. “You want me to take control. I know how to handle non-verbal communication! Your getting in self-bondage in high-end fetish gear for me makes the message clear. Nice safety touch, this bucket, in case I didn’t come.”
He picked a pair of scissors from the desk and cut the string, dropping the ice block in the bucket.
“Rejoice, lads. I’m going to take good care of you.”
The gagged grunts didn’t stop.
“My, my, we’ve got feisty pupils. I’m sure Brian challenged you, my friends, and that you need to convince me to free you, or maybe just remove your gag. Let’s say I’ve grown used to his methods, so I won’t be fooled easily.”
Percy stepped down from the platform. A video camera on its tripod was focused on Lester. The lanky lad set his eye in the viewfinder and started moving the camera to film his agitated friends, who squirmed and grew louder and louder.
“You like acting, don’t you?” he commented as he framed Andrew down to the top of his thighs, noticing how big of a bulge stood out.
The three boys were desperate. They yelled, made SOS sounds, and tried to convey to Percy he was in danger. The door opened slowly, which had them try even harder. He kept filming, taunting them for being wimps.
The realization something was up came much too late. Surprise was complete for Percy when he felt two strong arms pull him away from the camera. The man’s left arm embraced his arms and chest; the left one covered his mouth.
The man lowered Percy to the floor slowly, on his knees at first. Then he had him lie down and sat on his butt, keeping the boy’s wrists tight in just one hand. The hand that gagged him took off only to come back with a ball of fabric that he crammed inside Percy’s mouth. Mike was amazed at the boy’s docility, but these pervs must consider good manners to let a friend cram socks or undies in your gob. Mike used a silk necktie to cleave-gag the boy before binding his wrists, his elbows, his knees, and his ankles.
“Welcome, Percy! I’m Mike. I give Brian a hand in playing games with his friends. He did challenge Andrew and Lester, who were supposed to convince you to let them speak. They lost, and you’re all going to spend the day in this classroom. See, Percy, there’s one more pole waiting for a guest!”
The half hour Mike needed to get Percy solidly tied to the pole and perfect his gag got the boy wondering. His friends couldn’t move their heads and couldn’t even trade looks, so he had no clue what the deal was, and he felt frustrated not being able to talk.
“I’ll improve on your gag and make sure you can’t move your head; then I’ll let you spend some quiet time with your friends.”
Percy had to yield to the man, who would mummify his head no matter what. It would be taxing, which was part of the game. A more sophisticated one, thanks to his friend Brian, who’d cleverly recruited the gardener as a game partner. Percy wished he had the use of his hands; his boner was begging for caresses and was ignored by the staff.
He was with his friends, playing the games he loved, in a perfect setting. How could he not be looking forward to his stay?
The End
Epilogue
Percy’s phone beeped as he passed the gates in the car his brother drove. His older sibling was always happy to drive the family car, for being a taxi driver had its perks, such as being able to visit his own friends too. He drove to the mansion and dropped Percy with his large sports bag containing stuff for a ten-day stay.
“Brian texted me he was at the guest house. I’ll walk down there, thanks. I’ll text you next week if I need a ride.”
Percy’s brother agreed, eager to leave: he’d planned a day of video games with a friend who lived ten minutes away. And he had the car for himself, no witness who would report his ‘sports’ driving as reckless.
Percy walked along the mansion’s right side and took the paths leading to the property’s back. From Brian’s cryptic texts, he’d guessed other friends were invited. The ten-minute walk had the perky lad’s mind wander, thinking of being Brian’s prisoner or being bound facing Lester as he’d been once. They had both soiled their silk briefs.
Percy entered the guest house and ran upstairs to the playroom where Brian was waiting for him. He called out as he climbed the stairs and opened the door hearing no response. Was Brian even there?
He dropped his bag as he took in the scene inside the room. Three immobile boys bound to poles squirmed and called out, their alert hampered by the muzzling setups they were fitted with. He looked around the empty room, and his gaze caught a detail on Brian’s left: an ice cube dangling at the end of a string.
Percy crossed the room and jumped onto the platform.
“Hi, Brian!”
“Mrrgrrmbbllmmph!!!”
Lester and Andrew added to the chorus of gagged wails. The handsome black lad smiled and took his time to assess the situation, being in no hurry to free anyone. He went from one boy to the other, inspecting their pole-ties, checking how thorough the gags were, pulling hair or squeezing nipples through shiny fabric. He pushed the bucket under the ice block to have the water drops fall in the middle.
“I get it, Brian,” he eventually said. “You want me to take control. I know how to handle non-verbal communication! Your getting in self-bondage in high-end fetish gear for me makes the message clear. Nice safety touch, this bucket, in case I didn’t come.”
He picked a pair of scissors from the desk and cut the string, dropping the ice block in the bucket.
“Rejoice, lads. I’m going to take good care of you.”
The gagged grunts didn’t stop.
“My, my, we’ve got feisty pupils. I’m sure Brian challenged you, my friends, and that you need to convince me to free you, or maybe just remove your gag. Let’s say I’ve grown used to his methods, so I won’t be fooled easily.”
Percy stepped down from the platform. A video camera on its tripod was focused on Lester. The lanky lad set his eye in the viewfinder and started moving the camera to film his agitated friends, who squirmed and grew louder and louder.
“You like acting, don’t you?” he commented as he framed Andrew down to the top of his thighs, noticing how big of a bulge stood out.
The three boys were desperate. They yelled, made SOS sounds, and tried to convey to Percy he was in danger. The door opened slowly, which had them try even harder. He kept filming, taunting them for being wimps.
The realization something was up came much too late. Surprise was complete for Percy when he felt two strong arms pull him away from the camera. The man’s left arm embraced his arms and chest; the left one covered his mouth.
The man lowered Percy to the floor slowly, on his knees at first. Then he had him lie down and sat on his butt, keeping the boy’s wrists tight in just one hand. The hand that gagged him took off only to come back with a ball of fabric that he crammed inside Percy’s mouth. Mike was amazed at the boy’s docility, but these pervs must consider good manners to let a friend cram socks or undies in your gob. Mike used a silk necktie to cleave-gag the boy before binding his wrists, his elbows, his knees, and his ankles.
“Welcome, Percy! I’m Mike. I give Brian a hand in playing games with his friends. He did challenge Andrew and Lester, who were supposed to convince you to let them speak. They lost, and you’re all going to spend the day in this classroom. See, Percy, there’s one more pole waiting for a guest!”
The half hour Mike needed to get Percy solidly tied to the pole and perfect his gag got the boy wondering. His friends couldn’t move their heads and couldn’t even trade looks, so he had no clue what the deal was, and he felt frustrated not being able to talk.
“I’ll improve on your gag and make sure you can’t move your head; then I’ll let you spend some quiet time with your friends.”
Percy had to yield to the man, who would mummify his head no matter what. It would be taxing, which was part of the game. A more sophisticated one, thanks to his friend Brian, who’d cleverly recruited the gardener as a game partner. Percy wished he had the use of his hands; his boner was begging for caresses and was ignored by the staff.
He was with his friends, playing the games he loved, in a perfect setting. How could he not be looking forward to his stay?
The End
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cstone5725@gmail.com
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 48
- Joined: 3 years ago
Oh no is this right the end ?? I hope it is not this is far the best story on this site .
Plenty of bondage with a great story dint let this end please
Plenty of bondage with a great story dint let this end please
Great story, the ending caught me out though!
Really hope we find out if Percy does enjoy his stay and how the dyamic will work between the 4 of them, the captor(s) (and maybe Sebastian as well).
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] respect - I wrote a story on another site that ended up with 4 main characters and sort of stopped as I struggled to work out the plotlines and scenes ( a MM/mm rubber bondage story if anyone's interested) Thinking about revisiting it having read some of the excellent work on here, so I really appreciate the effort that you've gone to write such an excellent, detailed, multi part, multi character story.
Really hope we find out if Percy does enjoy his stay and how the dyamic will work between the 4 of them, the captor(s) (and maybe Sebastian as well).
[mention]Bondwriter[/mention] respect - I wrote a story on another site that ended up with 4 main characters and sort of stopped as I struggled to work out the plotlines and scenes ( a MM/mm rubber bondage story if anyone's interested) Thinking about revisiting it having read some of the excellent work on here, so I really appreciate the effort that you've gone to write such an excellent, detailed, multi part, multi character story.
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 575
- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]cstone5725@gmail.com[/mention] Thanks for the praise. A sequel is possible. If you haven't read it yet, you may still have another look at A Lad in Distress, which has another kidnapping plot. A sequel to Zach's adventures is coming soon.
[mention]Jb99[/mention] I'm flattered and I rejoice if my stories get others into telling theirs! I might add to Homebound, though there's some writing planned already. The sequel to a Lad in Distress, a conclusion to the Great Tournament, a Simon story ... I'll keep you posted.
[mention]Jb99[/mention] I'm flattered and I rejoice if my stories get others into telling theirs! I might add to Homebound, though there's some writing planned already. The sequel to a Lad in Distress, a conclusion to the Great Tournament, a Simon story ... I'll keep you posted.
I finally found some time to continue reading. Well... I have absolutely no time for it but I wanted to read a bit to distract myself a bit from other things. I guess I'll leave a comment now and then as I'm progressing through your story. I finished part 6. It's interesting to see Brian wanting to have his friend join him whike at the same time not wanting it 
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Bondwriter
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 6 years ago
[mention]Killua[/mention] Glad you got some entertainment from the story! I apologize if it caused you to miss a deadline.