Dark Fantasies (M/Mish)

[slider40337]

So these are my kink fantasies that I know are pretty much unrealistic, but I write them anyhow to get all my thoughts organized. They’re usually in the 2nd person, which is why the gender tag is an "ish" as one can easily picture their chosen identity for the captor/captive (though I def wrote them imagining M/M). Each post will be a new story so consider these somewhat of an anthology!

I’m in a full soccer uniform with jersey, shorts, shin guards, socks, and cleats, having been snatched & chloroformed on my way home from a game (too tired to fight back after running for 90 minutes straight). As I come to, I see you tying my wrists together with the middle of a very long rope, leaving both ends hanging off about 10 feet. Then you stand me up on a crate (still groggy) and tie those ends up over my head so the knots are out of reach.

You tie ankles and knees together to secure my legs, then yank out the crate so I fall down and am stuck on my tip toes with the wrist knots way above. You then stuff a rag in my mouth and wrap tape around my head a bunch to seal it in.

“Here’s the deal,” you say, “You escape by morning or there’s a consequence.”

I look up at the knots a couple feet from my bound hands and moan into the gag, but start working the rope with my fingers as best as I can. “Can’t make it you easy, on you,” you say, using the tape to wrap both my hands up into fists.

You then depart with me squirming against the restraints, starting to sweat in my soccer uniform.

In the morning you come back to find me still there, exhausted. I see you and perk up, anticipating release from my stressful position. You come close and tickle me a bit first. “Looks like you still failed to escape…and I gave you all night! Guess you get your real consequence now,” you say.

You untie my legs and unsecure my hands from above, but leave them tied in front and in the tape mitts. You keep me gagged too as you lead me through a door and down dark stairs into a musty basement where ropes and chains of all types hang from hooks all over the wall. The ceiling has various eyebolts everywhere and a few winches mounted, and the wall has some winches as well. You lead me over to metal pole that runs from floor to ceiling…obviously very sturdy and likely structural support for the building.

You take off my soccer cleats, socks, and shin guards, leaving me barefoot, before you clamp irons around my ankles. The chain is looped around the pole so I can’t move my legs more than a couple inches in any direction. With my legs now locked, you untie the rope binding my wrists. You take my soccer jersey off then, leaving me in just the uniform shorts and Under Armour compression shorts underneath.

Then my wrists are pulled behind me around the pole and locked into heavy cuffs, definitely more serious than normal police handcuffs. The mitts are left on, however, as you do something I can’t see with the handcuffs. A moment later I hear the clicking of the winch and feel my hands pulled back toward the wall behind me. You stop, leaving my hands a couple inches away from the post and making me fully helpless.

“We need a better gag than this,” you say, coming around in front of me and cutting the tape but leaving it stuck on still.

You disappear and return with a double-sided sports mouth guard filled and covered with some kind of putty, and the mouth guard has a rubber tube running through the center of it. You rip the tape from my head and yank out the rag, quickly replacing it with the mouth guard. The putty squishes as you force my jaw closed down on the mouth guard. You then put a ratchet strap under my chin around the top of my head and tighten it so I can’t open my jaw.

As I stand there with my jaw held shut, I feel the putty start to stiffen, eventually hardening and freezing my jaw into place. “They use this to make impressions for braces,” you say, “You’d work it free…if you could open your mouth…but that’s not going to happen. See…the consequence for failing to escape is that you don’t get to leave. You get to stay here as my little helpless captive until I decide I’m done with you.”

You then pull out a tube of superglue and squeeze it onto my lips, holding them together as the glue seals my mouth around the tube. I can only make faint moans as the severe gag keeps even my tongue from moving about too much. A couple minutes later the glue is set, and I’m totally gagged for at least several days. “If you’re good, then you can get some liquid food after a day or two,” you say, tugging at the tube a bit.

You tie my waist and thighs to the pole so I can’t move those at all. “Looks like you’re all set,” you say, stepping back, “I’ll be back in a day or two and we’ll see how cooperative you’ll be. Perhaps you’ll be good and let me move you to a new position after thirty or so hours like this.”

I scream into the gag and try to shake my head, indicating that I just want out, but you just pull out some duct tape and wrap around my head and the pole, holding it in place there. A few more clicks of the winch behind me pulls my hands back farther, and then I can see you from the corner of my eye going up the stairs. Even my loudest screams emerge only as faint moans as the light clicks off and the door shuts.

[Boocola]

If I am going to tie you up, it will be more vicious and humiliating, don't know if you'll like it, don't even care, if I am going to be me it will be for my pleasure, oh well good story.

[MaxRoper]

Quite dark, but well done. Nice and short with no excess.
More, please.

[slider40337]

Number 2 incoming! I won't churn these out all the time, mostly because I don't want them all to end up the same (they'll generally have some similar themes and ideas anyhow).

It all starts innocently enough. I arrive in the soccer uniform or tennis uniform of your choice for a few days of rope games and hanging out. After a couple days of easy escapes (which cause me to assume you have poor rope skills) and going around the city, you have me change back into the uniform I arrived in for my final game (as I fly out the next morning). You lead me over to a vertical pole about 15 cm (6 inches) in diameter in the hot evening-time garage…something obviously structural and sturdy.

You start with my hands, tying them behind me around the pole (so my back is up against it), crossing the wrists 90 degrees and securing them together…not too tight but obviously pretty secure. You then tie my knees and ankles together, and follow up by securing them to the post as well. More rope emerges and my waist and chest are soon also tied to the pole, securing my body fairly well in place. Then some upper arm ties, done carefully to not cut off circulation but to keep me from moving my elbows outward and effectively struggling against my wrist restraints too hard. Suddenly the looser wrist bindings feel much more secure.

You then put my double-sided guard in my mouth, as we agreed upon for my gag, then wrap a bunch of tape around my head to seal it in. You do the same over my eyes. You forget to tie a sock over first but my gagged complaints about the tape on skin & hair go unheard. You then push my head against the post and wrap tape both over the gag and my eyes around head and post, securing my head tightly in place.

I feel you stop and hear you step back, figuring it’s time to start struggling. This is far better than any of the previous ties and I wonder if you’d been holding back on me. I feel an earplug go into my right ear and then hear you whisper into my left. “Here’s your final challenge,” you say, “If you want to get on your plane tomorrow, then get out by morning. Otherwise, I’ll leave you here while I go to work and we’ll find even more fun ways to tie you in the weeks and months ahead.”

With that, a matching earplug goes into my left ear, silencing the world. As my fingers start searching for knots, I feel tape on my hands. You quickly tape up each hand into a fist. I think I might hear you laughing as the vibrations in the floor indicate you walking away…I know I’m stuck with my taped up hands. My gagged screams don’t seem to make a difference though.

[bondagefreak]

[mention]there is no sam[/mention] and [mention]Scottstud94[/mention] should definitely appreciate this given their predispositions towards severe bondage and irreversible gag scenarios.

Very enjoyable [mention]slider40337[/mention]
Well written and brutal, yet not overly so.

This is a nice contrast to the lighter themes presented by authors like [mention]Xtc[/mention], [mention]cj2125[/mention] and [mention]ricktied[/mention]. There truly is something on here for everyone.

[Scottstud94]

Ah yes very excellent. Love the superglue touch

[there is no sam]

nice writing, it’s detailed to the point you can really picture the scene.

[Tsuhaya]

Although this kind of "brutal" bondage isn't my favorite reading, it's still something I appreciate, congratulations on the good work

[slider40337]

Number three below! It bears enough similarities to the previous two that I might take a break for awhile to let fresh ideas percolate!

We meet at a leather bar, a good spot for a first meetup in public where we can still discuss tying up and such. I’m in the white soccer shorts you wanted me to wear with a t-shirt and some low socks & sneakers, with a matching white hat on my head. Because I have no pockets, I’m awkwardly carrying my ID and phone. You nicely offer to hold them so I don’t have to and you have pockets. “I remember you wanting to see my roping skills?” you say, “How about a little game here?”

I agree and you get a good length of rope (probably 25 feet) from the backpack at your feet, as you also slip my ID and phone into it. You have me remove my shirt, which also goes into the bag. You make me cross my wrists behind me and then get to lashing them together, crossed at 90 degrees so my hands can’t work together to do anything. You then move the rope up and do an upper arm tie, having loops above and below my elbows to really limit my ability to struggle.

A few minutes later and the rest of the rope has been used up. I’m not sure where the final knots on it are, but I’m pretty sure they’re somewhere between my shoulder blades. “Ok, so how about we hang out and you can try to get out. Say 30 minutes? If you don’t get out, I get to tape your hands and gag you and tie you to one of those columns and have all the fun I want,” you say, indicating one of the support pillars in the bar.

I agree again, after you scribble out what you’d just said on a napkin and I sign it with some difficulty…it sounds fun and I like a rope challenge so I get to work. I soon find that I’m not making much progress…or any at all really. We chat about our tie-up experiences and such as I try to work and eventually your phone sounds. “That was the timer,” you say, “Looks like you failed.”

Next thing I know, you’ve pulled a roll of duct tape from your bag along with two squishy balls. You have each hand grip a ball, then you wrap each hand individually in duct tape, making my fingers completely useless. You then open a small plastic case and pull out a serious sports mouth guard…the double-sided kind that boxers and MMA fighters use. You put that in my mouth and proceed to wrap the duct tape 10 times around my head, sealing it in. You turn my cap backwards and do another 10 wraps, going under my chin and over top of my head to keep my jaw clamped onto the guard. Another few wraps horizontally around my head follow for good measure.

Before I even get to start testing the severe gag, you shove me down sitting against a pillar and tie a bit of rope around my neck, which you then secure to the pillar. You then cross my ankles out in front of me and tie them together like my hands are tied, in such a way that I doubt I could stand.

“This is definitely going to be fun,” you say, approaching me with the tape.

Suddenly you’re wrapping it around my head over my eyes, fully blinding me with a blindfold more secure than a bandanna ever could be. I hear your voice a bit away, likely talking to somebody else. “Don’t worry,” you say as you get closer, “He’s really into kidnap scenes so he’ll like this.”

What? I think as my neck gets untied from the pillar. I’m roughly picked up and moved. A few seconds later I feel fresh air and hear the outside city sounds. The night air is cold but I can’t do anything about it as find myself dumped into rough carpet somewhere. It has that distinctive rubbery smell…it’s a car trunk! Unable to resist, I just squirm as my ankles are roughly pulled up toward my hands and tied for a secure hogtie. “Don’t worry,” I hear you say, “It’s not too long of a ride…just a couple hours.”

I try protesting but my attempts only come out as quiet moans. I think about trying to work the gag off but the mouth guard fully blocks off my tongue from being able to work the tape off my lips. The trunk closes and I hear the engine start. I try flexing my hands to break the tape, or yanking on my wrists to see if I can pull them free from the rope, but you knew too well what you were doing and neither of those work at all.

It indeed feels like a couple hours, including quite awhile on a freeway, before I feel the car stop and hear the engine shut off. The trunk opens and I feel the rope hogtying me loosen. My ankles also slowly get untied, though it seems to take awhile, and I’m pulled out to stand. I try to aim a kick in what I think is your direction, but my foot doesn’t make it too far as my ankles are tied together with a foot or so of rope between them. “Nice try,” you say, “But you know I’d have thought of that.”

I’m walked somewhere into a warmer house and down some stairs into a musty and chilly basement. With just my soccer shorts, under armour, and socks & sneakers for warmth I don’t have much insulation. I’m stood somewhere in the room…likely the middle from the sounds of echoing footsteps. I then feel the rope still around my neck jerking a bit as it’s tied off, which I soon realize is up overhead. I have to stand up straight to keep it from pulling. I yank at my wrist bindings and try to protest again, but you just laugh and tickle me a bit. Struggling is hard as you tickle, because any attempt to lean forward just gets stopped by my neck rope.

“One last touch, I think,” you say.

I feel something buckle around each ankle and the rope securing my legs together is untied. I try to bring my ankles together but they’re tied off to each side so I can only get them a few inches apart. Then I hear the terrible sound of winch clicking behind me. The ankle restraints slowly pull apart, forcing my legs to spread more and more. After a bit my legs are spread enough to be really uncomfortable, and I’m also having to push myself onto my toes to get slack in the neck rope (as spreading my legs lowered me a bit). “This looks good,” you say.

You remove my shoes and socks, an easy task given my restrained legs. “So…you agreed to let me have all the fun I want, and you signed off on it,” you say, “And the fun I want is a bound boy to keep and put into different positions as I desire, knowing you have no way out and no say in the matter. This will be your introductory night, and if you’re lucky and compliant in the morning then I may consider moving you to something less stressful before I go to work. But if you fight me, I will just add some nipple clamps and leave. Do you understand?”

I moan with a mixture of defeat and sadness as I nod. Your footsteps recede and I start to focus on what will be my activity for the next 8 hours: staying up on my tip toes as much as possible.

[bondagefreak]

Number three below! It bears enough similarities to the previous two that I might take a break for awhile to let fresh ideas percolate!

Nuh uh, sorry mate, that doesn't cut it for me.

You can't just leave us hanging like that!
That third scenario you wrote has the potential of being an awesome opening chapter to a multi-part story.
I'm sure others will agree!

You CAN'T just leave that poor soccer boi all bound up and mouth guard gagged/duct tape gagged in that cold, dark basement. Unacceptable

[Deleted User 1370]

Very good stories so far! I have also needed to take a break on my stories. Hopefully more will be showing up soon. Keep up the good work!

[slider40337]

Number 4 below! Note that these are fantasies and I acknowledge the safety issues here...obviously I'd not do this in real life!

We’re hiking out along some costal trails in the mid-afternoon, having gotten off the beaten path and onto a secluded beach. It’s not hot, but the workout has been enough that my shirt is off and in my pack so I’m just wearing my pocket-less athletic shorts and hiking shoes with my pack. You suggest taking a break next to an old small boat dock, clearly unused for a long time. Not more than a couple seconds after I set my pack down, I feel myself roughly tackled and pinned down. Before I know what’s going on, you’ve cuffed my hands behind my back.
You’re strong enough that even without cuffs I’ve little chance of resisting, but now have no hope. You pull me over to the old dock and sit me against a post, first tying my neck to the post before unlocking my hands only long enough to recuff them behind me around the post. You finish off by tying my legs together securely with some rope. I start to protest but you shove a rag into my mouth and wrap tape around a bunch so I can’t spit it out or do any talking. I see you grab some 2x4s from near the dock but you walk outside of my vision and the neck rope keeps me from turning my head to see what you’re doing.

I hear some sounds of sand moving around for awhile before you come back. You uncuff my hands but leave my neck and legs tied so trying to fight would be useless. You attach a rope to each wrist, tying in the middle so both ends of each rope are hanging off for a few feet. I think I know where it’s going so I try to get the ropes off but you just grab my wrists and separate them, holding my arms apart until I give up and stop struggling.

Then my neck gets untied and you pull me over to what I now see are the 2x4s buried deep, only sticking out about 10 inches from the sand and all angled away from each other about 8 feet square. You push me down in the middle of all them and start tying one wrist rope to one of the 2x4s. I try to start crawling with my tied feet but you just come back and pin me down, making me helpless until I give up trying to fight. Realizing that I’m not going anywhere, I cooperate and let you tie each arm toward a 2x4, then repeat with each foot until I’m stretched out into an X on the sand. I’m starting to get chilly as the warmth from exercise is fading but you’d not let me get my shirt back on, or my hoodie that’s in my pack either.

You step back and watch me struggle and test the ropes, but they’re tied tight enough that I’m stretched a bit so I can’t get any slack to attempt to work out of the ropes. After awhile, I give up and relax but you don’t move to do anything. A few minutes later, I figure out why as cold water hits my feet. The tide is coming in and the waves are getting higher. I start struggling hard again but still can’t budge the sunken 2x4s or get the ropes off. I wonder how high you’ll let the water get before letting me out, as the waves start getting to my waist.

[MaxRoper]

Very dark, very well written, and while it was definitely worth the wait I'd rather you don't make us wait quite so long for the next one.

I'm a fan of short stories and vignettes and these are great. Any of them would make a good introduction to a longer story, but I also like them just as they are.

[bondagefreak]

[mention]slider40337[/mention] Damn! Bound up and left to be dealt with by the incoming tide.
Haha! That's dark, man

I'm thinking our resident artist [mention]LK3869[/mention] could feed off your ideas to fuel some future "dark" works when the need for inspiration hits him.

[slider40337]

**This is a continuation of the 3rd story above, where a rope challenge in a leather bar turned into a kidnapping.**

I lose track of how long I’m standing, and all I can really focus on is the combination of my fatigue and the burning in my exhausted leg muscles. I don’t know how much longer I can hold myself up, but the neck rope doesn’t give me an option. After what seems like forever, I hear footsteps approaching. I start making sounds into the gag…I can’t take this anymore. “I’m going to let you lay down,” your voice says, “But don’t try anything or you just go back here.”

The threat was enough. I felt the neck rope go slack and then your arms lowering me to being facedown on the ground. I lay quietly and relished the relief on my legs. A moment later, I feel cold metal around my neck and hear the click of a lock. Soon another click follows. “I locked your collar to the floor,” you say, “Just to make sure you stay here and get your rest. I have to go to work, so don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

I moan a bit as you leave. It’s not like I can get up to anything. I do my best to settle into the position, laying facedown with spread legs and arms tied behind me. Eventually the exhaustion wins out and I fall asleep.

I must have dozed off and on all day. I remembered some struggling to see if I could get my arms out, but also wake up as you’re poking my side. “Looks like you got some rest,” you say, “That’s good because you’ll need it this evening.”

I hear you unlock the collar from the floor and then I feel padded leather buckled around each wrist and then the rope begins pulling. After a few minutes I feel my arms fall to my sides, finally free of rope. I try to move them, but they’re slow and weak. You have me put my hands, still taped into fists, on the floor and push myself up onto my knees. You grab me and stand me up, my legs still secured spread apart. You then take each arm and attach it above and out, leaving me in a standing X spread eagle position. “Don’t worry,” you say, “No neck rope this time.”

The winch clicks and pulls my wrists tight. Stuck fully helpless, I can’t do anything as you tickle me. Only able to laugh into the gag and squirm a bit, there’s nothing I can do. You eventually stop. “I’m going to ungag you for some food and water,” you say, “If you’re good, then you get to lay down again for the night. If not, then I’ll make your current position worse and maybe leave you there for the day tomorrow as well. So the rule is this…saying a single word gets you punished. You’ll stop getting fed and the gag will go back, then I’ll make sure you learn not to talk.

I nod slowly and then feel the tape around my mouth being cut. The gag finally comes off and you take out the mouth guard. I try to control myself and calmly take bites of some kind of energy bar and sips of water through a straw. After a few minutes, I can’t help myself. “When are you goi—” is about as much as I get out before your hand clamps over my mouth.

“Big mistake,” you say before removing your hand to push in the mouth guard.

You start wrapping tape around, then under my chin and over my head as before. It feels like you’ve used even more tape this time, and there’s definitely no way I’m getting that gag off without my hands. I hear a winch clicking and am worried you’re stretching me out even worse for the night, but instead I feel my legs getting slack. Once my ankles can touch, you pull my ankle cuffs together and click a lock to keep me from separating my legs. I feel you doing something else to my cuffs and figure it out when you start turning a winch again. My legs at first are dragged behind me and eventually off the floor. You keep going until my feet are about as high as my waist, but my body is also pulled back so I’m at an angle to the floor.

The muscle stretching is awful, and I try struggling against the wrist cuffs, but they’re secured and locked and my hands are still useless taped balls. I can’t twist my body or move my legs to hang in any other position. “This should teach you,” you say.

You get into tickling me again, and my struggling is even weaker than before. Eventually you stop and I here the sound of receding footsteps as I can only hang and endure.

[slider40337]

Number 5...a very short one!

I wake up on a hard, cold floor. I’m just wearing my lined running shorts, remembering that I was running and then it went to black. I’m on my back and try to sit up and then notice a few things. First, my arms are restrained in leather cuffs spread apart by a 3 foot metal bar. The cuffs and bar are all locked and connected with padlocks. Even if I could get my hands together, I couldn’t get my wrists out. Second, my legs are similarly restrained with a bar spreading cuffed ankles. Third, both of these bars are connected with thin metal cables to opposite walls. I look around and up to see the cables go through pulleys in the ceiling and over to a hand-crank winch. The cables go from my bars to opposite walls, so I can’t get my hands to my feet. The eyebolts in the walls are about 5 feet up as well, so I’m pulled slightly upward.

You start clicking the winch, and I try to talk but notice that my mouth has something stuffed inside and what feels like half a roll of duct tape around my head to seal it in. There’s nothing I can do as I’m pulled tight, then up off the ground, suspended in an X shape and stretched to the max. I squirm feebly, wondering why I'm here and what you plan to do. You say nothing except a simple "have a good night, see you in the morning" as you walk out of the room and close the door.

[slider40337]

Been awhile since I added here...so moving these to adult since they feature non-consensual scenes.