[A friend once suggested I write out some of the fantasies I had as an adolescent. An excellent idea. Most of them aren't suitable for this venue, but I think this one is PG enough to warrant inclusion here. Of course it's been modified from the original boyhood fantasy but the basic plot was a favorite of mine.]
Max was a slender thirteen year-old newspaper carrier. Every morning he delivered the paper and every month he went door-to-door collecting from his customers. He was familiar with everyone on his route and took pride in his service. He was often rewarded with tips.
A warm Friday evening found him at the door of the Crawford residence. He pushed the doorbell and listened to it echo inside the house. No answer. He gave it another jab and was turning to leave when he heard a strange thumping noise followed by a muffled voice.
There was a wavy glass panel next to the door which didn’t allow him to see much. He stepped off the porch and worked his way behind some shrubbery to look in one of the ground floor windows. He could see a large men standing and a smaller person lying on the floor.
The person on the floor was Danny Crawford. He was wearing shorts, a tee shirt, and crew socks. And he was tied up. Wrists behind, ankles crossed, wrists and ankles pulled together at his butt, and something was tied into his mouth. Bound and gagged!
Max stared in awe at his hogtied classmate, noticing every detail, completely intrigued with the way Danny looked as he squirmed in his restraints. In a moment the man spotted him and started for the door.
Max struggled to extricate himself from the bushes as the door flew open and the man stepped onto the porch.
“And what might we have here?” he inquired, slapping a meaty paw on each of Max’s shoulders.
“Umm, collecting? For the paper?” Max stammered. ”Maybe I’m at the wrong address?”
The man smiled. “I’ll say you are. But as long as you’re here, I think you oughta come inside.”
Max was pulled through the door. His wrists were quickly bound behind his back. The man then pushed him to the floor and proceeded to tie his ankles, then folded his legs back and attached his ankles to his wrists, just like Danny.
Max struggled and protested until a dish towel was forced into his mouth and knotted at the back of his neck. He could still make noise but the man pressed his booted foot gently against the captive’s ribs.
“Take it easy, kid,” he suggested. "I don't wanna hurt you."
The bruiser gave Max a pat on the shoulder and left him next to his similarly bound chum.
Max wondered what he’d stumbled into. He knew the Crawfords owned a jewelry store. Maybe this was some sort of holdup. But where were the older Crawfords?
He looked over at Danny who shrugged. The boys squirmed a bit, then settled down. The ropes were tied tightly. This wasn't like games with other kids and jump ropes. This was the real thing with no easy escape. A little scary, but quite exciting.
Eventually the Crawfords returned in the company of two shifty-looking men. Mrs Crawford attempted to run toward her son but was held firm. The two adults were soon tied to sturdy wooden chairs across the room from the boys.
One of the new arrivals had an attache case.
“Wanna see what we got?” he asked the thug who’d remained at the house.
“Nix,” said his companion. “Not now. Let’s blow.”
They left.
All four captives struggled futilely at their bindings. The elder Crawfords weren't gagged. Mr Crawford turned to where the boys were lying.
“Can one you lads manage to get to that end table? If you could knock it over, there’s a letter opener with a sharp edge inside the drawer…”
Max was closest. He rolled onto his side and started inching across the floor. He turned his back to the table and pulled until it fell sideways. He found the drawer pull and dumped the contents out, fishing blindly until he found the letter opener.
“Be careful!” Mrs Crawford cried as Max slid the blade under his wrist rope and started sawing.
Within ten minutes all the captives were freed and the police had been summoned. Max was called a hero, but he didn’t think so. He knew he’d have been able to summon help sooner if he hadn’t spent so much time staring, mesmerized by the sight of Danny all tied up.
Wrong Time MMM/mmFM
Wrong Time MMM/mmFM
Last edited by MaxRoper 6 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
Nice story, short but enthertaining! Can empathize with that fantasy, I think many of us have at some point fantasized with being involved in a robbery or kidnapping, specially with our friends or family.
Well told. Thanks for sharing.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
but little Speedos always rule.
Thanks xtc and cj2125! There's one more of these that I may be able to make acceptable for this site. Your comments are just what I need to get going on it.
The last sentence of this made me smile. I probably would have felt the same way.