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

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

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

Post by Bondwriter »

Hey. I posted a few chapters of this story on the old forum. It's in the adult section because of the themes and the length, though it's not very smutty. Nicholas edited it fairly recently, so this is the first posting of this improved version. Thanks to Jeremy who helped getting the story going a few years back, providing ideas and lots of input for it.

A Lad in Distress

by Bondwriter and Jeremy

Edited by Nicholas H.

Chapter 1 – A lifelong obsession



“Once I’m done adjusting this, you won’t give me any cheek, Marty. And you‘ll be under proper conditions to train for your role.”

Shaun tugged on the corset puller. The restricting garment he was putting on Marty didn’t tighten around the waist. Instead, it tightened around his mouth. The kid leather apparatus was designed to encase the wearer’s whole neck and lower face. A lace at the back pulled it all together. As in a real corset, there were stays, flat and invisible, following the contours of his face. They framed Marty’s Adam’s apple and went over his chin. The metal reinforcement ensured that, once the contraption was laced, his jaws would be solidly locked, his lips concealed by the gleaming lamb hide.

Shaun liked sturdy gags; the mouth corset was only the tip of the iceberg. Marty’s mouth was filled with a good amount of balled-up silk; his lips were swathed in the usual crisscross of fine two-inch surgical tape. Shaun found it convenient and effective to make good gags. Two turns around the prisoner’s head ensured a finer posture once all the layers were finally applied.

“So, Marty, are you getting into character? The gag is tight, and you can’t speak a word, can you?”

“Mmmmm mmm mphmm …”

Marty played along. He was strapped to a chair, wearing only a pair of nylon shorts, thin white socks, and tight kid leather boots. Shaun had spent forty-five minutes gagging him. Marty had spent the last thirty-six hours learning about Shaun’s fancies while being a guest in his Washington State property.

The mansion impressed Marty when he passed the gate after the thirty-minute drive from the airport. The house was modelled after grey stone abbeys or manors found in Ireland or Brittany. It wasn’t gothic, really, but it looked spectacular overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and the trees showed they were beaten by the winds.

Marty was there testing for a project Shaun was working on—or so Shaun said.

Shaun was born in Hollywood. His mom was an actress and his father a ‘suit’ in a big studio. He had a budding career as a director. He’d been assistant director on three movies and took a break when he got to direct number five in a franchise that many would have deemed ‘torture porn.’ It was about a super evil and clever serial killer who restrained his victims and instilled fear before ending them violently, except for an unlikely survivor who managed to escape during the final scene. The killer managed to elude the law at the end of each the franchise’s movie. The next one would involve ever more devious, over-the-top plots to satisfy the target audience.

Shaun’s version was the most successful in the series. Thanks to his twisted mind, he had managed to make the script even creepier than previous episodes. His taste in gags had helped. Most of the time, the killer’s traps featured heavy, tight restraints; Shaun always came up with nefarious games emphasizing the fact victims could not speak. Of course, the movie included the classic seizing of the wannabe rescuer who falls into a trap.

A significant part of the audience found some scenes unsettling, such as when the killer spoke through a speaker and listed all the gruesome things in store for his victim. Gagged with lots of layers and heavy wadding, he was forced to repeat them.

This film got Shaun into other action or horror projects and provided him with a stream of requests from actors. His liking for bondage was no secret, and some aficionados who had acting ambitions started hitting on him. Shaun would have them as guest for trials.

Marty was the twelfth in eighteen months. Shaun’s parents’ manor up north was a wonderful playpen for tie-up activities. So here he was, having an eventful weekend with a handsome twink very appreciative of his fetish.

“Good, Marty! Gather yourself, we’re going to shoot the scene. I hope you remember your lines.”

As the restrained cutie mumbled his response, Shaun went to the window and stared at the ocean; from the top of the cliff where the mansion was perched, he could see far to the west. The sky was grey, mirroring Shaun’s state of mind. All the young men he’d brought here had provided fun times, but after a while, he realized the playmate wasn’t his Chosen One. He was waiting for the special young man he had longed for years.

Shaun’s mind drifted to his first intense memory of bondage. He had gone to his grandparents over Thanksgiving weekend, a small town in Northern California. At seven, he always got mildly boring when he went there. His grandmother had to entertain him in the ways the countryside offered. One was a movie theatre, an old style venue, featuring one screen only, very different from the multiplexes Shaun had gone to before.

The building’s exotic architecture was the first sign this would be no ordinary experience. A new Disney movie had been playing for a couple weeks. Shaun loved cartoons, of course, and he relished the prospect of going out with his grandmother all for himself.

That’s when he saw Aladdin for the first time. For a seven-year-old boy, the experience was mind-blowing. The songs were great, and the funny Genie amused Shaun. The villains scared him. When he thought the movie was over as Aladdin kissed the princess, thunder struck.

Aladdin, then under the guise of Prince Ali Ababwa, was vanishing thanks to the magic carpet. That’s when it happened. The seconds that followed, seen countless times since, were imprinted in his brain forever.

Jafar’s guards seized Aladdin and swiftly bound and gagged him. He had a wide scarf trapping his lower face, so all he could do was utter muffled groans. The young Shaun felt a weird tingle. Aladdin was completely helpless when Jafar uttered his ominous sentence: “I believe you’ve worn out your welcome, Prince Abooboo.” Aladdin kept trying to talk, to no avail. Jafar ordered his guards to dispose of Aladdin, which made Shaun very afraid.

Aladdin was thrust from the cliff into the sea with a chain ball around his ankle. The ordeal fascinated Shaun as much as it frightened him. As Aladdin drowned slowly, trying to get to the lamp to make the Genie appear, Aladdin grunted in despair, but he couldn’t utter a word.

The Genie didn’t need to be called with the magic formula. Aladdin rubbed the lamp as he was about to die, and the Genie saved the day. The rest of the movie, with its grandiose finale, had somehow distracted the seven-year-old Shaun; but as soon as he stepped outside the theatre, his mind had wandered back to that scene.

Back at his grandparents’, he tried to gag himself with a bandana. He soon discovered that though the gag looked good in the bathroom mirror, it didn’t hold and neither prevented him much from making noise.

He added a hankie the next time he was home alone. From there, he explored different household materials: masking tape, duct tape, cling film … He found various ways to fill his mouth so his tongue couldn’t move.

He was one of the first to get Aladdin’s VHS upon release. He got copies of the film in all subsequent formats. Of course, the VHS tape bore the signs of Shaun’s leanings, as it was difficult to watch the scene.

Then came Chris Wilde, four years later. Chris, who was eighteen months older than Shaun, played the lead role in a drama/sitcom show Shaun’s mom was in. Because Chris was from the Midwest, when the second season was shot, it was arranged he would live with the Wainworths—his parents couldn’t move to Los Angeles.

Shaun got along with Chris. One evening, Shaun managed to get the conversation rolling about tie-ups. An episode in the show featured Chris’s character having a dream in which the kids he was supposed to babysit the next day tied him to a chair and gagged him with a bandana. Of course, he woke up, and in the final shots of the episode, the actual kids bombed him with eggs and flour.

It was silly, but this episode had been one of Shaun’s favorites. At eleven, soon to be twelve, Shaun felt a very special tingle ‘down there’ when he thought about other boys gagged. So he brought the conversation as casually as he could. To make it easier, he had first managed to get Chris to watch Aladdin.

Shaun knew how to control himself when the scene played. Looking from the corner of his eye, he could see a very slight smirk. Once the scene was over, Shaun shifted. He said very detachedly, “This is a cartoon, with just a scarf he could call for help.”

Shaun counted to five in his head before making a remark: he wanted to sound thoughtful.

“Didn’t you get gagged with a bandana in the show, Chris?”

“Yeah, but it was pretend. And the shooting didn’t last more than twenty minutes. I agree, Shaun, just a bandana doesn’t work. I had to say ‘mm mm’ with my lips closed.”

Silence. To Shaun’s amazement, the older boy broke it.

“Why, Shaun? Do you think you could tie me up and gag me good enough I can’t escape or call for help?”

Shaun was flabbergasted. He was eager not to let such an opportunity pass.

“Uh … sure, that would be a cool game.”

“I dare you, then!”

Shaun jumped to his feet.

“Stay right here. I’ll go grab some stuff.”

There were ropes in the entrance pantry. Tape was in the bathroom, and Shaun went to his bedroom to get hankies and items he’d collected for his private games.

When he came back, Chris stood from the couch. He was wearing a tight tracksuit, which suited Shaun because it made the boy look good. Plus, clothes would not be getting in his way.

Soon, Chris was standing bound hand and foot. That’s when he let his younger friend know in a not too subtle manner that he shared similar interests.

“I’m gonna call out! Your parents will free me and you’ll get punished.”

Shaun pushed Chris back onto the couch, hands tied behind his back. He sat next to the older boy and clamped a hand over his mouth.

“I doubt you will, Mr. Superstar, because I’m really kidnapping you. The studio will pay a nice ransom for you!”

Shaun removed his hand only to cram in a medium-sized silk handkerchief. Shaun then added a golf ball inside Chris’s mouth and stuck an X over his lips. The scarf that topped the tape was tightly knotted behind Chris’s head.

“Mmmmpphhh! Mmmmm! Mmmmblmmmm!” he tried, unsuccessfully.

“Ha! I doubt you can call for help now.”

Shaun added three coils of rope at Chris’s knees, waist, and chest so the bonds would look more impressive.

He fetched his digital camera.

“Smile for the ransom pic!”

The boy nodded eagerly. The teenage star had weird dreams, too.

The game went on for three hours; the prisoner was moved around, fed, and gagged again. Shaun took pictures in many different settings.

He experimented many tie-ups with Chris. Though they both somehow acknowledged the erotic nature of such activities, they were always just challenges or games. They kept their clothes on.

As he looked at the ocean, Shaun couldn’t help but think that what he really wanted was his own diamond in the rough, as Aladdin was called in the movie: someone with perfect body and looks. For now, he would do with what was available.

“So, Marty, in this scene, you have to answer the questions of a devious criminal who thinks you’re responsible for the arson that killed his family ten years ago. You remember what you have to reply? I have all evening, and even all night.”

“MMMMh!”

Marty didn’t know whether Shaun was serious, but he needed a part. He would be paid for the test, which was unusual; he had to deliver. He dove inside, as he’d been taught in acting classes, tapping into the character’s emotions to give the most convincing performance. This would be his big break!

“Mmmbbllm! Mmm! Mmmph!”

TBC
Last edited by Bondwriter 1 year ago, edited 66 times in total.
User avatar
Xtc
Site Admin
Site Admin
Posts: 3428
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Not deep enough into the Forest

Post by Xtc »

It's good to see a 'new' piece from you.
They all say boxer shorts are cool,
but little Speedos always rule.
User avatar
TayDay95
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 755
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Australia

Post by TayDay95 »

Can’t wait to read more!
User avatar
george_bound
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 330
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Ontario, Canada

Post by george_bound »

Hey mate, I've been following this story on DeviantArt and love where it's gone thus far... excited to read more :twisted:
FOR A LIST OF ALL MY STORIES, CLICK HERE:
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=67283#p67283
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

All my favorite Bondwriter things are here. Looking forward to this ride.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Xtc[/mention] [mention]george_bound[/mention] [mention]TayDay95[/mention] [mention]blackbound[/mention]
Thanks for the comments, I seldom get this many! Here is chapter 2; I'll post twice or three times a week to catch up with the story already posted on DA.

Chapter 2 – Breaking up



As he stirred from a deep slumber, Zach felt the warmth of the other body inside his bed. The hot smell of bodies in the morning was something he always enjoyed waking up to, like steaming coffee and cinnamon rolls.

He dragged himself out of bed. Taylor, Zach’s boyfriend, was driving him to a casting call: a commercial for waffles needed the perfect young husband. Although he looked too young to play the part, one never knew.

They ate the breakfast Taylor had cooked and chitchatted about the weekend. Zach was mildly annoyed when Taylor told him he would not be going to his friend’s party that evening. Zach had longed for a little privacy, like the night before, to indulge in his kinky interest, which his boyfriend deeply frowned upon.

Taylor was very straight-acting. His traditional upbringing made him despise fringe behaviours; whereas he had overcome his gayness easily, not feeling much shame for getting hard at the sight of a bulge in other men’s pants, he had a profound distaste for cross-dressers, flamers, and BDSM people.

When Zach had revealed his liking for bondage, Taylor had been adamant he would not join these fantasies.

As Zach got out from his shower, he spotted Taylor looking at an email on his laptop. No! He hadn’t locked the session last night when Taylor came home.

The lean and wiry man of almost nineteen stepped cautiously behind, his towel wrapped around his waist. His lush hair fell down his neck; a quick towelling got it to full volume anew.

Taylor was most grateful to have found such a lovely boy. Everybody turned their eyes to them when they walked down around the Palisades. Zach’s jet-black hair, his dark complexion, and his lovely smile got both men and women to pay attention.

Zach’s stomach churned as he looked over Taylor’s shoulder. He had not only opened a PDF file with the weekly comic Zach collected from an online group, but also instant messages from an acquaintance with whom Zach had discussed the issue at length.

Taylor was poring over the comic, a long saga depicting the adventures of a young man in the 1930s who had been struck with an ancient curse that led him to be in bondage peril all the time. And there was no shortage of villains to undertake the task of keeping him bound and gagged in the harshest ways.

Zach liked the cartoonish aspect and found such stories titillating; there was a thrill watching young men in peril. Zach would have loved to be tied up to see how it felt. But Taylor wouldn’t have taken it too kindly if he’d tried. For that matter, Taylor turned out to be really pissed.

“So, Zach, you still read these perverted stories? I thought we’d put all this behind us. Wasn’t I clear?”

Being the son of a Lutheran pastor meant Taylor was intractable about monogamy and decency, despite living in Sin City. And he was jealous.

Taylor jumped to his feet.

“I’ll go to a diner; you’re on your own to get to the audition. I want you out of the apartment tomorrow; I won’t be sleeping here tonight, after all.”

Zach had to admit he had been warned. Still, he thought his fantasy was harmless. The door slammed shut. Zach’s most pressing issue was to get to Burbanks on his own. He checked his pockets. The two twenties were supposed to take him to the middle of next week. How to get more money would have to wait. He called the cab company.

As the streets, ramps, and freeways of the City of Angels passed in front of his eyes, his mind wandered to his fetish. He’d been interested in tie-ups and kidnapping situations from a tender age, but he’d had few occasions to play with like-minded people. He vividly recalled of being seven and having to endure a penalty after a game of cards with his cousins, all female and older than him.

That time, his thirteen-year-old cousin Sherry decided he had to stand with his hands on his head for ten minutes. When she noticed Zach moved his feet, she bound his ankles. As he was fidgeting, she declared it was necessary to tie his wrists behind his back.

She eventually added a scarf over his lower face. He relished the way the three girls praised his cuteness; his helplessness made him feel queasy, but in a nice way. Ten minutes later, he was freed.

When he grew older, he tried some self-bondage and gags before wanking. He had always been unlucky at finding partners. His online connections never got anywhere. Either pervs wanted to put him through gruesome ordeals or he was turned down as soon as he’d sent a pic, people wanting nothing to do with a minor—which he was not, but he could not convince them.

The cab stopped. He had to forget about his sorrows: what mattered was getting the part. He knew he could get the cash he desperately needed in Hollywood. He couldn’t go back to his hometown; his family had thrown him out of the house eighteen months before. He had been told never to show up again; time would maybe mend things, but not yet.

He entered the studio’s gates and walked up to the warehouse indicated on the map displayed on his phone. The hall was already full of handsome young men ranging from eighteen to thirty. What a mouth-watering display!

The wait in the large hall was likely to last. Zach grabbed his phone. It got good network access. He launched an app for a fetish site he’d used to find people to chat with. He sent messages to people he knew and lived in LA. He could meet them now that he no longer had to refuse because of his boyfriend. This would give him something to look forward too; knowing Taylor, there would be no forgiving. Even if he regretted his words in a few days, Taylor would be too proud to admit it. He would make no attempt at fixing what he had broken.

Zach was eventually called after he sent cheerful messages to three guys from the area. Zach stood; he mustered courage to prove he deserved the part.

They didn’t use a product sample—the waffles were a binder full of papers—but to Zach it was the real thing. He was to bring the binder to a table where the casting staff sat. They were supposed to be the cheerful family he was living with.

The thought of this moment had kept him going through the morning. After repeating the scene twice, as his performance was grabbing attention, he was dismissed.

He felt weak; the buildup to this performance had prevented him from thinking about Taylor. Now he realized the blond surfer boy was gone. The cute butt, the firm thighs, the big green eyes: all gone. And he had to find a place to stay.

He leaned against the wall and sighed. As he eventually dragged himself outside, the phone in his pocket rang with the notification of an app message. He hadn’t turned it off! At least it had not rung during the audition.

Josh, a bartender Zach had talked to a couple of times, was interested. He was a writer trying to get his script picked up by a studio. Zach sat, and after a few back-and-forth messages, they decided he would visit Josh in the evening. By a stroke of luck, it was one of the few weeks Josh wasn’t working on a Saturday evening.

Zach went home, showered, and changed to ride his bike to the guy’s place; he only lived two and a half miles away. He packed some clothing; Zach was lean and had a toned body, but he was not a gym rat. He liked shiny, smooth sportswear and how it could enhance other boys’ bodies.

This was one of the things he’d told Josh, so he stuffed Speedos and black polyamide running shorts in his bag; they made his butt stick out a little, but he was proud of his perfect round buns, and he wasn’t against showing his thighs. He hoped this would fit Josh’s sports-clothing fetish.

He rang. Josh opened the door; he looked better than his profile pic. His green eyes lingered on Zach with interest. He had cropped light brown hair with shades of red and a great smile. Zach was glad he’d hooked up with someone he was attracted to for his first bondage session. Josh was dressed in a shiny tracksuit that looked great.

“Come in, Zach!”

Zach had barely entered the flat when Josh clamped his hand over Zach’s mouth.

“I guess someone shouldn’t have meddled in my business.”

A cartoonish kidnap role-play had been decided. Zach moaned and wriggled around but didn’t really put up a fight.

“Mmmmmh!”

“Sorry, but you’ll have to stay here. We can’t have you go around calling the cops or messing up my plans.”

Josh pulled Zach towards a chair, next to which were piled coils of white rope. Some had already been anchored to the rustic kitchen chair.

Josh held on fast to the cutest bike rider he had ever seen. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was worth all the trouble he’d gone through to make this happen when he’d gotten Zach’s message earlier.

The bike rider outfit Zach wore was all Lycra. Feeling the cute little buttocks all wrapped in the shiny material made Josh’s manhood grow in his own Speedos underneath the tracksuit. He didn’t want to scare such a promising prospect of bondage pleasure. As Zach had stated “not too sexual” in their exchanges, he would go slow and have him beg for orgasm.

He dragged Zach to the chair and forced him to sit down. Josh took his time to decide which rope to use. He worked over his bonds with gleeful enthusiasm.

Eventually, Zach was trussed to the chair. He squirmed and twitched, but there was no way he’d escape such rigorous bonds. The fear he’d felt when Josh handgagged him had subsided. Josh was a fun playmate; the “I guess I can’t let you call out for help, now, can I?” he uttered meant gagging would come next.

Josh grabbed a long strip of cotton and used it to cleave-gag Zach. The small knot in its middle was more for show, as he could get rid of the scarf with some head motion.

“Hard to be smart mouth now, huh? You’ll stay quiet while we get the goods!”

They had not discussed details of the scenario, but being in the hands of a bunch of thieves appealed to Zach tremendously. For his first tie-up ever, saving self-experiments, it was great. Zach pretended to be silenced, grunting with his mouth closed, as the scarf between his teeth didn’t hinder speech much.

Josh kept him like this for almost an hour. He regularly came to check on him and inform on how the whole post-heist activities were going. He pointed out repeatedly how helpless Zach was and couldn’t resist poking him here and there. Josh was still impressed by Zach’s beauty and didn’t want to be rude, so he didn’t knead him as he’d have done with other play partners.

The great evening went on. Josh changed Zach into some nice nylon shorts before restraining him spread-eagled on the bed with soft cuffs attached to the frame.

Josh leaned over with a white silk scarf he was folding in a wide bandage. He removed the thinner one tied between Zach’s teeth. The boy tried to call out for help. The handgag was back.

“Oh no, you won’t! I’m gonna gag you nice and tight for the night.”

He wrapped Zach’s lower face in the smooth material. With Josh straddling him, Zach could feel his captor’s hardness through the shorts.

More intimate activities ensued; Zach got wanked in his shorts a few times, and his hand was freed to reciprocate the favour.

After tons of further fun, Zach stayed overnight, though in his own bed. They had a quick extra tie-up in the morning before real-life obligations forced Josh to leave. With his hands bound behind his back, Zach got a final wank from Josh.

Elated, Zach rode back to his boyfriend’s apartment; he grabbed his things, which two bags were enough to pack. He booked into a motel; it was not exactly upscale, but he couldn’t afford much luxury. The rest of the Sunday was uneventful; Taylor came to his mind a few times over the day, triggering some guilt. Yet, he glowed from his first bondage experience and slept very peacefully that night.

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

Post by Bondwriter »

Chapter 3 – Breaking out


Zach got a call the following Tuesday. He would audition again on Thursday for the waffle commercial, having been picked from the first pool. The next two days saw lots of hope, heavy preparation, and repetition of his eighty-four words.

Zach dressed in his finest ‘elegant casual’ to be in character. He took the bus and got there on time. Everything went fine, except that he still wasn’t told if he got the part. He would have to wait longer. He left the room feeling more upbeat than the first time, nonetheless.

As he exited the door, a tall man entered. This guy was dressed in a modern suit tailored in a style reminding of late nineteenth-century Victorian elegance. The man’s poise was impressive; as Zach stepped outside, he realized he knew that long face with the jet-black hair and the short, pointy goatee. It was Shaun Wainworth, the torture-movies director. To be fair, he’d directed action movies too. Crossing path with celebrities was an LA thing that still stunned Zach.

Inside the building, Shaun froze. His gaze was turned towards the outside; his eyes had followed the young man. His beautiful face was replaced with a view from behind. It didn't disappoint Shaun. The tight buns encased inside the close-fitting slacks made for a great complement to the front view. Shaun was so mesmerized by the apparition of this real-life Aladdin that he lost his way. When he came to his senses and ran outside to talk to the young man, Zach was gone.

Shaun went back inside; he saw two casting auditions on the entrance posting board, one of them for his own project. Both were conducted by agencies he’d worked with. From there, it took less than thirty minutes for Shaun to get the young man’s contact information.

His dream had come true.

Now all he had to do was make it happen with this Zach fellow. Shaun didn’t believe in subtlety. Still, he couldn’t just call the young man out of the blue if he intended to get away with his Aladdin scheme.

Back at the office, Shaun decided to call Zach’s agency. Shaun was shooting a music video the following week, and he needed some particular faces for close-ups. The female assistant he talked to sent him links of several actor pages fitting his requirements: slightly Middle Eastern, lean, black-haired. The third link was Zach. He gazed at the face and the smile. He hadn’t been fooled by his senses.

He was about to hang up when he thought of asking right away about Zach. The assistant obliged. Shaun heard the keyboard rattling as she picked up the boy’s file from her computer. Zach, she told him, had not been picked for the waffle advertising. Good, he would be more likely to accept the offer.

He told the woman he’d keep in touch and that he would let her know if he needed to see the young man. Shaun’s mind wandered as he imagined his long-hatched plan could finally be set in motion. He smiled.

***

Zach didn’t take it too well the following day when he got the call from the agency. He got the good news about Shaun’s audition before he was given the bad ones, though. He wrote down the hotel’s address where it would take place and agreed to show up the following morning.

The place was one of these impersonal places for business people and executive events. He was to go to the Ivory Lounge, suitably named after its light beige painting.

Zach had been told the video director would be at the audition. He recognized Shaun Wainworth straight away; he smiled at the coincidence, which happened to him often. Shaun was accompanied by another man with cameras. It was a small audition, Zach thought.

It turned out to be more of a photo shoot. A photographer took pics of Zach walking, sitting, portraits. Videoing took place too. The audition lasted longer than the previous one. When it was over, Zach was told straight away he was hired.

The photographer who worked for Shaun gave the young actor a card with an appointment for costumes the next day. He handed him a signed copy of a legitimate contract.

Zach came out from the venue in an ecstatic mood. The gig wasn’t exactly acting, but he would be paid—better than nothing. From what Shaun told him as they talked, the music video was for a twenty-something pop-country artist who composed a ballad about how people are different yet yearn for the same thing. It would feature people of different ethnicities and looks. Zach felt glad to be part of such a project.

Songs that were meant to be global hits like this one made Shaun good money. Of course, his name had to be changed to preserve his horror-movie directing credibility. Another thing he liked about these gigs was large castings; the bigger the pool to draw from, the more chances he had to find potential targets.

Zach walked out the room with appointments and a promise of modest income coming in shortly.

Shaun gave a last look at Zach’s behind set in motion by two wonderful thighs. This was his Aladdin. He had to have Zach—no, keep him in the family mansion up north.

He had developed that plan over fifteen years, no more than a childhood fantasy at first. As he grew, his representation of Aladdin’s gag scene had changed. Whereas in the beginning he imagined being the boy in distress, he grew to take Jafar’s place. The games with Chris Wilde confirmed his preference. Their taste for silencing gags had grown on them, and as they experimented with various ways to fill a mouth and seal lips, Shaun identified more and more with the villain.

When he turned thirteen, he imagined being Jafar and saying his ominous words, “Make sure he’s never found.” In the movie, the hefty guards put Aladdin in a trunk and carried him to Jafar’s palace, where they were to fulfil the order.

Jafar kept Aladdin incommunicado in a dungeon. As years went by and Shaun discovered other depictions of male bondage, this peculiar fantasy played in hundreds of ways in his head. He started to think how to make these scenarios happen when he began earning money. His family’s holiday home would be the perfect place to enact them.

These fantasies intensified as he lost his first tie-up partner. For Chris, being older than Shaun, the games had become more explicitly erotic. Although he couldn’t really ask young Shaun to help in this department, Chris still counted on his friend’s tendency to develop restraining tie-ups and thorough gags.

For their final game, they planned a special role-play. Shaun had told Chris of his cartoon fascination many times. Chris offered to dress up as Aladdin to pique the interest of his younger friend. Shaun liked the prospect very much and sorted out his ropes and scarves carefully.

Chris made his own Aladdin costume. He had some eggshell basketball shorts he’d gotten when he was thirteen and that were becoming a tight fit to the maturing teenage boy. They had a pleasant gloss and would do. He used a red silk scarf as a belt and a tight purple waistcoat, completing the costume.

Shaun cast the 'spell' that would start their game. It turned Chris into a statue; even in their fictional world, the spell didn’t last forever. Shaun tackled the restraining quickly. After two minutes, the spell was off. With his wrists and forearms so snugly bound behind him, Chris couldn’t fight his smaller kidnapper off.

To make sure Chris would never be found in the house’s recreation room, Shaun knew how to gag to near perfect silence. He’d put several pieces of paper towel into a knee-high stocking he’d stolen from his mom’s drawers. Chris opened wide and took the whole thing inside. Shaun cleave-gagged him with three turns of cotton rope. He liked how it pulled the corners of Chris’s mouth. His friend could no longer say a word. Shaun then added a wide white cotton bandage over the muffling setup.

Chris was in seventh heaven. Being marched to the basement was not so easy, considering the boner he’d sprouted throughout the ordeal. The next two hours were a delight for him. Not being able to wank when he would have liked it so much was intensely frustrating, but Shaun’s stories and comments compensated for this.

He was bound to a metal chair, then to a concrete pole, and into a hogtie. His gag was removed for a quick drink before being replaced and made even tighter.

All good things come to an end, alas! Shaun’s mom got back home three hours earlier than planned. Shaun rushed upstairs when he heard her come; he had to divert her attention and make sure she wouldn’t ask about Chris. After ten minutes chatting, he grew impatient to get downstairs and free Chris, who was getting worried on his own.

What got him caught was not any call for help but Shaun’s conspicuous ways. His mom suspected he was up to no good and followed him; she was horrified to find the boy she was supposed to care for trussed up like a sausage and screaming behind the gag. It didn’t look like child’s play to her. She freed him swiftly and let Shaun know they were to 'have a conversation.'

The tie-up games were over. Shaun got a long motherly talk on his behaviour and how nasty it was to kidnap someone. It turned out Chris, thinking long-term about his career, let all the blame fall back on Shaun. For the first time, Shaun experienced betrayal.

By the time Shaun turned eighteen, his parents had lost interest in going to the Washington State manor. They didn’t mind their son spending lots of time there, though. They thought he had a taste for the landscape and the estate’s quasi-gothic feel, given his interest in horror movies. Of course, they suspected some kinky stuff could be going on there too, but who were they to judge?

So Shaun made the manor his second home. The young actors brought up there helped him test the improvements he’d made in a few rooms: some inspired by old fifties horror films, some more the result of Shaun’s fertile imagination. They made it easy to keep young men restrained and gagged for days.

And now the time for the big plan had come. Shaun could not forget Zach’s smiling brown eyes and his round and firm buns above his slender thighs.

TBC
User avatar
bondagefreak
Honorary Member
Honorary Member
Posts: 5477
Joined: 6 years ago
Location: Québec
Contact:

Post by bondagefreak »

Very glad to see a new tale from you [mention]Bondwriter[/mention]
Anxious to catch up to this one.

Don't forget to gender-tag, mate!
FOR A LIST OF ALL MY WRITTEN WORKS, CLICK HERE: BONDAGEFREAK'S STORIES

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

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]bondagefreak[/mention] Thanks for the comment and appreciation! I'll tag properly indeed.

Chapter 4 – More auditions

Zach entered the studio half an hour early on the day of the shooting. The week before, he’d visited the costume designers, who measured him thoroughly; he had never been so closely inspected. When the seamstress was done, she knew the size of all his body parts. Only his genitals had been spared, though she did ask how big he was down there; blushing, Zach answered he thought he was six inches at rest. His embarrassed tone made her laugh. She didn’t ask about his size when erect; he sighed.

After registering at the entrance, Zach went to the makeup room; then he waited for his turn on set. The basic idea for the day was to shoot the actors in front of a green screen; they would then be set into various adapted settings thanks to digital imagery.

The crew fitted him in his costume. For once, Zach’s Middle Eastern appearance had been a blessing; his Persian prince look came out even better than expected. All the actors and models signalled diversity, which was the point of the video.

His outfit was an off-white colour made in the finest taffeta and silk, complete with a cape and matching turban. Once he was dressed with the cape hanging over his shoulders, he looked at himself, satisfied with the sight. The costume looked familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it reminded him of. His shooting time barely lasted half an hour. He had to walk, move around as requested, and then vaguely interact with other actors; they hugged, they exchanged smiles. Everything went fast, and Zach marvelled at how busy everyone was.

Shaun Wainworth seemed very concerned with every detail on set, in particular what was happening in front of the green screen. Zach noticed how intensely he looked at actors—at him.

Zach left after getting his makeup removed and changing clothes; he hoped his performance would trigger further jobs. Everyone had seemed to admire his looks. Zach knew he was attractive, but he’d never really thought much of it. Now these movie people were voicing their admiration, Zach puffed up his chest.

Shaun also felt good. Zach’s image played over and over in his mind well after he finished the rest of the shooting. He fought hard not to let anything out of the ordinary transpire to the crew working around him. For his plan to work, no one had to spot his interest in Zach.

That evening, he relaxed on the couch watching the rushes, playing those shots of Zach in his Prince Ababwa costume repeatedly. The more he watched, the more he knew this encounter was no stroke of luck. His destiny was coming to fulfilment. Work remained to be done, but he knew how and who could help him.

“Make sure he’s never found …” he whispered before exploding into a laughter that frightened the young costume-designer apprentice he’d brought in for the evening and who now was ball-tied and hooded at his feet.

In the following week, investigations were performed, costumes and accessories ordered, henchmen summoned. As he ticked off his to-do list, he relished seeing Zach again soon. Shaun’s schedule for the next three weeks was light, with few appointments. Nowhere as time-consuming as filming a movie.

Simplicity characterized the scheme. Zach’s abduction would happen in a place with no video surveillance. He would be lured into a trap, bound, gagged, put inside a vehicle equipped for such an endeavour, and driven up north by Shaun himself, who’d planned the sixteen-hour drive in detail. Shaun knew the road and all the places to avoid from the many times he’d driven there with his parents or on his own.

On the following Friday morning, Shaun made a single call from an untraceable prepaid phone. He even drove a short distance to be sure the cell towers picking up the signal could not be linked to his living location.

“Shaun Wainworth calling. I’m working on a movie project. An adventure movie, and I’m still wondering about the lead. You fit the character perfectly.”

Shaun could hear the excitement on the other end of the line.

“Sure! When do you need me?”

“That’s why I called you straight away and not the agency. You see, I’m leaving tomorrow to scout for locations, and I’m afraid if we don’t meet today the studio will pick an actor who won’t be the right fit. You did great in the video, but this is a speaking part, and I can’t fight the suits without being sure you can act.”

“Okay. Where can we meet?”

“I’ve booked the same hotel room where you auditioned for the video. There will be other people; I want to audition a couple of actors for other parts. Still, it’s low-key because there’s tension with the producers, and I don’t want to feed the rumour-mill. So, keep it hush-hush, will you?”

“No problem, Sir,” Zach replied.

He knew how a project could flounder in Hollywood if the wrong person got wind of it.

“Can you be there at noon?”

Zach had nothing scheduled except for a short visit to the gym in the afternoon. He was to meet with Josh again, but not before Monday, as he would be busy working all weekend.

The next two hours flew by. Zach didn’t know what this movie was about but he tried to prepare psychologically nonetheless. After shaving, showering, and dressing up with a polo shirt and a jacket, Zach left for the appointment. His sunglasses made him feel like a movie star trying to escape paparazzi.

When he reached the Ivory Lounge, he found an inkjet-printed notice on the door: 'Audition in room 212.' A last-minute change? Zach took the stairs, which saved him crossing the lobby to reach the lifts.

He knocked. Wainworth himself opened the door of room 212.

“Zach! You made it! I wasn’t sure, you didn’t sound too—”

“Oh no, Mr. Wainworth, I’m thrilled!”

“Good, good. Come in.”

Zach entered a big living room with a couch and armchairs; there were doors to what had to be a bedroom and certainly a bathroom. Two men were sitting on the couch already.

Zach greeted them, and they cheerfully replied.

“Ted and Bill. They’re here to audition for another part. You might even have a reading together. My idea to try you for this role came from the video shoot. I got the costume you had on. It’s not ideal for our try, but it’ll do. It’s in the bedroom. Let’s get you dressed.”

Zach knew the outfit enhanced his good looks. He followed Shaun to a bedroom at the end of the suite. His previous costume lay on the bed. Shaun helped Zach put it on. He noticed the director staring at him. He was getting used to being ogled by older men, and if it could land him a part in a major motion picture, it was a small price to pay.

They went back to the suite. Ted and Bill looked at him; once again, he saw admiration in their eyes.

“OK, people, we’re going to try a simple scene. The character has memories of a movie that impressed him as a kid. You all must have seen Aladdin.”

The three applicants nodded.

“So, at the beginning of our movie, the lead character—that’s your part, Zach—has a dream after seeing the Aladdin scene on cable one night. He dreams he is being kidnapped by you two, Ted and Bill, who will play the vizier’s henchmen. Later on in the movie, the hero’s antagonists turn out to be the thugs he has a run-in with.”

Zach could picture the scene. Considering his own fantasies, he felt a shiver running down his spine. This Aladdin scene was hot. He remembered it had scared him as a child, but when he watched it again, years later, knowing the character was eventually rescued, he’d gone to liking it a lot. The bound and gagged cartoon hero fuelled his tie-up dreams.

“What we’re checking with this test is how you look and act when thrown into action. There isn’t any dialogue, but we’ll try other scenes later on.”

Zach had heard rumours about Shaun Wainworth’s liking for bondage. Well, if looking good tied up earned him a lead role, as he was apparently being tested for, all the better.

“Zach, you will stand facing the camera. Look up and behind, like you’re looking at a starry sky. Then Ted and Bill will grab you from behind. Ted, you handgag him while Bill grabs his wrists. Then you both bring him down to the floor. Bill, you shackle him while Ted gags Zach with a white scarf.”

This seemed straightforward enough. Zach wondered whether it would be as much fun as with Josh. Shaun took a couple more minutes to explain the scene again, indicating the length of each movement.

“You should work as a team, people. What the camera records is what matters, so work together to make it convincing.”

Shaun stepped behind the large, high-range professional digital camera, which had convinced Zach the whole setup was legit. The young man stood proudly dressed in his Persian prince costume; he had chops for acting, Shaun thought. Being able to stand in front of a camera and pretend no one was there wasn’t a thing he got from all his actors.

Zach stood there looking at an imaginary sky while the two goons closed in on him. Ted and Bill had rehearsed too. Their timing was perfect. Ted clamped a big hand over the boy’s mouth, who opened his eyes wide as they pushed him to the floor. Bill was skilled with restraints, and Zach only pretended his arms were flailing. His wrists were quickly chained behind his back, and Ted gagged him. Very aroused, Zach was glad he wore briefs rather than boxers.

Once Bill had pretended to knock him out with a blow to the back of his head, Zach lay on his belly.

“Cut! Not bad for a first try, gentlemen. You’re convincing.”

Zach lifted his head, looking at them. The faint praise pleased him.

“Let’s do it again. This time, more surprise and indignation from you, Zach, and more villainy looks on your faces, Ted and Bill. Then we can move on to the next scene.”

Ted and Bill unshackled Zach, who pulled down the mock gag they’d bound across his mouth. He handed the white scarf to Ted.

“Everybody gets back in position.”

Zach prepared to cast pleading looks once he would be seized. This time, the assault was swifter, and Zach didn’t need to pretend that he couldn’t call. Try as he might, his attempts at shouting were thwarted by Ted’s big, sweaty hand.

Zach was on his belly, Bill restraining his wrists. But contrary to the instructions, they changed the sequence. While he was still being handgagged by Ted, Bill shackled his ankles also.

“Mmm?”

“Not a move and not a sound, Prince Abooboo, if you know what’s good for you,” Ted whispered into his ear.

Something wasn’t going according to plan. Zach squirmed, but the chains and cuffs were no toys. Bill joined Ted. The hand left Zach’s face. They were ruining the scene! He opened his mouth to protest, but a ball of slippery material glided between his lips, filling his mouth. The scarf that had been tied across his mouth now cleave-gagged him.

“Mmmmm! Mmmmbllmmmph?!”

Zach wondered what was going on. A smirk from Shaun gave the real plot away.

“Much, much better, boys,” he said, addressing Ted and Bill. “Why don’t you give our friend a seat so he can enjoy what’s up next.”

Zach kept grunting and grumbling, but his muffled attempts got him anything but laughter.

“As you please, boss,” Bill said, a chuckle in his voice.

TBC
User avatar
KidnappedCowboy
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 959
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: USA
Contact:

Post by KidnappedCowboy »

Love this story so far, [mention]Bondwriter[/mention]! :D

I am familiar with the comic story that Zach was reading. It was a great series. So sorry when the Yahoo groups disappeared. :(

But you are continuing in the tradition of that series. :)

Thank you! 🙏🏻
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] Thanks for the positive comment!

Ned Carstairs lives on on Tumblr, his author's nick is scorp10n1 . This should help to find the new adventure Perils at Saint Vincent's. To your search engine, there are 32 chapters available as of now! Simon is Ned's contemporary, by the way. These 30's' guys!
privateandrews
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 171
Joined: 4 years ago

Post by privateandrews »

love this story so much. it just gets better and better.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

privateandrews wrote: 3 years ago love this story so much. it just gets better and better.
Thanks ! Glad to see people haven't seen the story in its previous postings. And you get the edited version, which (I think) reads better, thanks to Nicholas H.'s magic.

I post the link to the Ned Carstairs Tumblr page in the Tugs links. No one will be surprised that I'm a fan!
User avatar
george_bound
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 330
Joined: 3 years ago
Location: Ontario, Canada

Post by george_bound »

Bondwriter wrote: 3 years ago @KidnappedCowboy Thanks for the positive comment!

Ned Carstairs lives on on Tumblr, his author's nick is scorp10n1 . This should help to find the new adventure Perils at Saint Vincent's. To your search engine, there are 32 chapters available as of now! Simon is Ned's contemporary, by the way. These 30's' guys!
I love this story so much! And I love the Ned Carstaors serial, thanks so much for posting the link to the tumblr page :P
That kind of peril story is really what interests me a lot and I'm hoping to start up a PI series in that genre as soon as I get some free time :twisted:

Looking forward to seeing what fate our protagonist is headed towards!
FOR A LIST OF ALL MY STORIES, CLICK HERE:
https://tugstories.com/viewtopic.php?p=67283#p67283
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

Glad you found the new Ned Carstairs' story, [mention]george_bound[/mention]. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 5 – It’s a trap!


The two bulky men stood Zach up. Bill went to the other bedroom in the suite and came back pushing a wheelchair. Zach had never seen such a slick one before. The seat and the back were made of fine black leather. The frame was shiny steel chrome. As Bill brought the chair, Zach kept struggling in Ted’s strong embrace; the captive saw straps on the armrests, the frame, the footrest, and the back. Even a headrest featured dangling straps too.

The screen test went on: Shaun filmed the following four minutes it took Ted and Bill to sit Zach into the wheelchair. They restrained his legs at ankles, knees, and thighs first. Then they unchained his arms and strapped his forearms to the armrests and his arms to the frame above his elbow and just below his shoulders. They buckled the cuffs, tightening their grip over his body one by one until he became one with the chair.

Shaun yelled “Cut!” as Zach’s head was the only body part he could move.

“I think you’ve worn out your welcome, Prince Abooboo,” Shaun snarled as he leaned on Zach to check his henchmen had followed instructions properly. He tightened the strap binding Zach’s left wrist one notch; the rest was deemed adequate.

Ted and Bill went back to sit on the couch with a magazine in hands. They were used to Shaun’s ways, and the money was good. Their boss would even take care of what had to come next, which saved them efforts.

Zach grunted intermittently. He wondered if this was a prank. The kinky gear, the forceful taking … maybe Shaun was screen-testing for a kinky bondage video? Shaun’s words didn’t put him at rest.

“Now, Zach, you’re still too loud. I can’t afford to have you alert someone outside the room. ‘Pervert Hollywood Director Kidnaps Poor Wannabe Actor’ isn’t a headline I want to be a part of.”

Shaun removed Zach’s turban and laid it down over a big armchair. He pushed Zach’s head against the headrest and pulled a strap taut against his forehead. When Shaun untied the cleave-gagging scarf, Zach tried to spit out the ball of silk in his mouth, but Shaun pushed in the one he’d just untied and balled up quickly.

“Additional wadding is a must for silencing feisty young men.”

Fingers prodded and poked the soft and thin material so it would all fit in. Zach’s jaws opened wide as his mouth was fully invaded.

“Now, to make sure you don’t spit it out ...”

This was crazy. Zach couldn’t believe all the strain on his mouth. With his head kept immobile and the scarves packed inside his mouth, he didn’t even manage to get his tongue to budge before Shaun was back with some leather contraption.

It looked thin, supple, and polished too, judging from the gleaming reflections as it swung. When Shaun put his hands inside, the shapeless form was much easier to identify: a hood. He put a hand over Zach’s packed mouth.

“I’ve had this made just for you. It should make you look good.”

He removed the head strap and pushed Zach’s head forward. Shaun was behind the wheelchair, and he lowered the custom-made hood over his captive’s head. An opening for Zach’s nose and eyes enhanced his cheekbones and let his forehead show. The hood covered him down to the bottom of his neck.

Shaun adjusted the hood to align Zach’s beautiful face with the opening, its top just half an inch above his eyebrows, its bottom under his nose. Once the hood slid down over his head, Zach realized the looseness he was experiencing wasn’t supposed to last. The back of the hood, from the crown of the head down to the neck, featured two lines of grommets with a lace running between both edges.

Shaun started lacing the hood up. He took his time: he knew the contraption was made to measure and that it would line up perfectly in the back. Using the corset puller, he got this exact result despite Zach not being particularly cooperative. Ten minutes later, the boy’s face was encased in shiny kid leather, his jaws crushed around an insane amount of silk inside his mouth.

Shaun put the turban back on Zach and the strap restraining his head. He pushed the wheelchair towards the lounge area where Ted and Bill sat, oblivious to Zach’s ordeal. Picking up the remote, Shaun switched the TV on. He pushed a button, and the entertainment centre came to life.

The screen lit up with the Aladdin scene they had just re-enacted. Shaun focused more on Zach’s eyes than on the TV, the soundtrack enough to picture every single detail of this distress action. The video played in a loop every minute and twenty-four seconds, with Aladdin seized anew and threatened with drowning.

The TV produced the only noise in the room. Zach didn’t mumble, as even this was difficult and painful considering his thorough gag. After the sixth or seventh loop, someone knocked on the door.

“Room service!”

“Will you get it, Ted?”

The big man stood up and opened the door. The bellhop came in, pushing a cart full of fancy food and drinks. “This must be one of their accomplices,” Zach thought. “They can’t just let anyone see me like this if he isn’t.”

“Good morning, Mr. Wainworth. Here is the meal you ordered for three.”

The bellhop was a twenty-something blond, a surfer type who traded his swim shorts for the hotel’s formal and tight grey suit. He leered at Zach, whose eyes opened wide.

“It seems someone is going to skip a meal?”

“Mmmmm! Mmmphlp, mmmmbmmllmmm …”

Shaun’s lack of emotion as he spoke frustrated the prisoner further.

“Yes, Keith is being punished. He’s been a bad boy, so no lunch for him.”

Ted and Bill laughed; the bellhop joined them: Wainworth gave big tips. Over the past two months, the bellhop had met other guests in as tight bondage as this one. The men had come in with him and checked out together, so nothing to worry about.

The bellhop had a tingle in his briefs thinking about the handsome men all tightly bound and gagged so they made very little noise. This one was playing the part well, trying to speak despite his mouth being filled with whatever dirty rag these kinky gays used for their naughty games.

“Yes, Keith, you need to prepare for the next scene.”

Shaun went up to the bellhop and gave him five bills. Twenties.

“Not a word to anyone about my playmates, OK?”

The bellhop nodded and thanked Shaun. He didn’t leave right away, fascinated with the show Zach offered, notably this high-grade leather hood. Shaun had to get rid of him before he picked up on what was really going on, though.

“Hey, you want to make more money? If you like what you see, you can join Keith. He’s getting five grand for today’s session.”

Zach kept on pleading, warning the young man about the trap. However, his pinned-down head and the amazingly silencing setup muddled the message just like Shaun wanted.

“Plus, Keith seems eager to have a companion …”

“No, thank you,” the bellhop mumbled and pocketed the wad of bills. “Don’t worry, Sir, I’ve seen only three people in here.”

He closed the door behind him, only the faint drone of Zach’s muffled protests reaching his ears. Zach stopped after ten seconds, then the men burst out in laughter. Shaun went back in front of Zach.

“My kinks are well-known around here. In two years and over thirty visits with ‘guests,’ no one has ever ratted me out to gossip rags or websites. I tip well.”

He went to switch the video camera off. Zach realized he had been filmed in front of the TV in his wheelchair this entire time .

“So, gentlemen,” Shaun said, getting Ted and Bill’s attention, “it’s time to check out. We’ve got to get our young friend here ready for transportation in the van. Let’s start Operation Camouflage!”

Shaun got busy with Zach’s head; he had a latex mask made just for him by a friend who did prosthetics for the studio. It covered the hood and had holes for the eyes only. He released Zach’s forehead strap and meticulously laid the latex over his captive’s face. He then put a blond wig on Zach and put the headrest strap back on, concealed under the fake hairline.

While Shaun adjusted the wig, Ted was putting fake breasts on Zach’s chest, carefully buttoning the silk costume. Bill was busy putting blankets over Zach’s body that had D-rings on the hidden side. Small zip ties were used to make sure the blankets wouldn’t slide down and hid all the restraints. A satisfied grin appeared on the three men’s faces.

“Prince Abooboo will wait for us in the hall. Or should I say princess? Get lunch ready, gentlemen. I’ll be right back.”

Shaun then pushed the wheelchair into the small entry hall and put the brake on so Zach stared straight at a full-length mirror. The transformation was complete. The dark-haired young man had been turned into a buxom blonde, a stupid smile plastered over her passive face.

“Mmmmh! Mmmm!” Zach pleaded desperately.

The fake breasts. The cut of the outfit and its waist cincher. His manhood concealed by the blankets. Zach was a different person, and a woman for that matter.

“Don’t worry, Princess Abeebee, I like my boys to be boys. But if I need to answer questions about what the cameras will pick up, I prefer to tell about my disabled cousin Edna. She’s blonde and a looker. She also happens to use a wheelchair because of a neurological condition. I’ll put you in sexier clothes very soon, but first we have to whisk you away. Just be patient while we have lunch and don’t try anything stupid.”

Zach heard men speaking behind the closed door, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He realized the horror of his situation; these men were hell-bent on keeping him restrained, and there wasn’t much he could about Shaun’s treacherous charade.

He tried to move, fixating on the reflection in the mirror. No one who knew Zach would have identified him under this clever disguise. Eventually, the men returned. Ted put the flight cases with the equipment and accessories on a trolley. Zach heard Ted was to take the stuff to the van and go pick them up at the entrance.

Zach was part of the gear that needed hauling up. Ted turned left to the technical lift serving the parking lot; the other group turned right and headed to the main elevator. Bill pushed the wheelchair. The elevator was empty. As it opened on the reception, they crossed people. The ambient noise was loud enough to mask Zach’s cries for help. Many passersby felt embarrassed by someone in a wheelchair and looked away.

Shaun knew the hotel routine. The shift between the morning and afternoon crews had taken place half an hour before; they wouldn’t meet the bellhop, the only person who might have wondered about the young man turning into a blonde woman.

Bill and Zach stood ten feet away from the counter as Shaun took care of checking out. After a polite goodbye, he followed Bill, who was heading towards the exit.

TBC
User avatar
KidnappedCowboy
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 959
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: USA
Contact:

Post by KidnappedCowboy »

This is getting devilishly delicious, [mention]Bondwriter[/mention]! 🙌

It is worthy of a Ned Carstairs' story! 🔥

Zach in Peril! 😍
User avatar
blackbound
Millennial Club
Millennial Club
Posts: 1057
Joined: 5 years ago

Post by blackbound »

I'm loving this deception. Public bondage is such a thrill.
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] Thanks! You'll find out, 27 more chapters to come, then you'll tell me!
[mention]blackbound[/mention] I perused the chapter posting it, and thought it would please some, you included!
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

Chapter 6 – Distressful Journey to the Kidnappers’ Lair


Ted was parked in front already. He opened the back door as the group approached. The van was equipped to transport people in wheelchairs. Ted and Bill lifted Zach’s chair to put the wheels on rails and pushed it inside. Zach heard a click when the wheels triggered a locking mechanism, clamping them inside powerful metallic jaws. Bill jumped behind the captive as Ted closed the door and climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t worry, Abooboo,” Bill said. “You won’t need a seat belt. This is real medical equipment, designed and built for maximum safety.”

Zach started his journey with two flight cases and a sinister individual who didn’t speak much as companions. From the front seat, Shaun was eying him in the rearview mirror. Any attempt at motion was thwarted by the intricate restraints holding Zach in. This didn’t stop him from trying, draining his energy as the miles piled up.

Through the tinted windows, he saw the landscape unroll. He couldn’t read all the signs, but the van headed north. Ted drove for four hours on the freeway before taking an exit and following smaller country roads for twenty more minutes.

“We can’t make the trip in one stretch, Zach, not with you like this. We’re going to stop at a ranch I own; we’ll store you away for the night, and tomorrow morning we’ll drive the rest of the road to my house … which is about to become yours too!” Shaun laughed as Ted turned into a driveway.

He pressed a remote control and the van entered a garage. The driver turned the engine off and pressed on the button again; the door rolled down shut. Ted and Shaun got out and went to the back of the van to bring Zach down. From what Zach saw as they entered the hallway from the garage, the ordinary ranch was a classic four-bedroom. They led Zach to a large one split between a living room and a dining room. Bill put the brake on the chair.

The abducted boy was left on his own for five minutes while the others went to get bags from the van. They then threw themselves in the armchairs and couch. Zach had a view of all of them, but not being able to move his head, he missed much of what went on in the room. He heard Shaun addressing him.

“When I saw you at this audition, I knew I had to have you. You were the boy of my dreams come to life. One that I could keep forever. One that I would dress up in the morning, train, and discipline. Everything is going according to my plan. I checked your phone, and you didn’t talk to anyone after I called you with an untraceable prepaid card. It’s safe to say no one will ever find out where you disappeared. I can keep you for as long as I want. Gentlemen, could you rid Zach of his clothing and get him out of his chair? He probably needs some care and clean clothes. Then I can initiate him into ropes.”

The goons were enthusiastic.

“My pleasure. I need a little action after sitting all afternoon.”

Sadly for Zach, Bill and Ted were familiar with the following routine: removing all bonds and restraints while replacing them with others to get their victim in a different but still inescapable position.

Shaun gave a hand for the first steps, handling the removal of the mask himself. This required caution if he wanted to use it again. Zach was soon standing in his Prince Abooboo costume, all the way to the chains and cuffs they had used for the screen test. The cuffs were only temporary and had been shortened by two links, however.

Shaun got cotton rope from a bag in the kitchen’s closet. Then the three men discussed how to restrain him. There were three beams in the middle of the room allowing for pole ties, but Ted thought that Zach would benefit more from a hogtie after being pinned to his chair for so long.

“No reason to argue,” Shaun said. “There is a very simple solution: let’s do both!”

He knew the compromise was good for the morale of the troops. Ted and Bill would feel compelled to work together and avoid them being idle, which often led to unwanted behaviours like drinking or watching porn on the internet.

Action kept vice away from their minds. They tackled restraining poor Zach into a hogtie first. He discovered that having a rope net uniting his forearms with his arms put severe strain on him. They had woven a rope harness first, which spread the tension, as the rope coming across his shoulder blades was the anchoring point for another cord tugging on his knees.

Then Bill remarked the gag looked weak. Shaun, who’d documented the hogtie with a smaller digital camera, gave the go-ahead for an improvement., They used the opportunity of removing what was in Zach’s mouth to let him have a drink of water.

Bill loved scarves. He used only a silk one to pack Zach’s mouth, but the one cleave-gagging him next was tightened cruelly, compressing the ball of material inside Zach’s gob. Two more scarves were used to seal his lips and lock his jaws.

“It’s not like neighbours could hear: there aren’t any! But having a whiner as a guest is annoying.”

Zach was lying on his belly, squirming like a worm. Ropes had knots, and knots could be untied, he reasoned. Although he knew full well that his captors wouldn’t let him go even if he managed to pull a Houdini, he could practice for another time when they would leave him on his own. The three men had slipped their shoes off, so all he could see was socked feet and three pairs of pants. For a few minutes, they cheered on Zach’s struggles, but they soon lost interest. Falling back in their seats, they talked about previous tie-ups with other unwilling guests of Shaun’s.

Zach pricked up his ears when they started talking about dressing him up in different clothes. Three pairs of hands released him from the hogtie ten minutes later. His captors took him in front of a mirror as they stripped his body parts, though not all at the same time. His genitals weren’t uncovered, but he wore skimpy and shiny briefs. He ended up in tight black shorts that cupped his buttocks to perfection and enhanced his front. A white tee shirt, long socks, and he was ready to be bound to the beam.

The kidnappers once again showed expertise and effectiveness. They bound ropes to the beam first and then wrapped them around his body, weaving a harness featuring a crotch rope; its ends were knotted to the beam tight. The final crisscross coming from his ankles and threaded around him and the beam up to his chest finished the job.

The men’s looks—now he was no longer protected by ample clothing—were much more disturbing to Zach. He saw lust in their eyes. There was more talk about what makes a pole tie successful, but Zach felt their glances: he was the centre of attention.

Shaun inspected the young man dressed in more revealing garbs and strictly bound to the pole. He patted him here and there, assessing the flesh’s firmness or checking the smooth skin. The beam was narrow, so the satin-clad butt was on display and available to the director’s hands too. Shaun then went back to his camera.

“Smile pretty for me, Zach,” Shaun taunted.

“Mmmmm! Mmph!” a disgruntled Zach replied, shaking his head.

Bill picked up on this. He fetched a roll of duct tape and wrapped three turns across Zach’s lower face and the beam, immobilizing his head.

“It doesn’t pay to be feisty here, young man,” Bill laughed.

And so the evening passed by, Zach’s predicament remaining the same. The only highlight—or lowlight, rather—was having to pee in a bottle. Shaun retrieved the captive’s cock from his shorts pretending it was no big deal as the three men watched with interest. A drink of water followed. It got late, so the men decided they would sleep in turns to keep watch on the prisoner.

Zach never got any slack from the bonds as he squirmed and wiggled. On the contrary, he felt like the ropes tightened against his body. Eventually, he found out he could relax completely; the mass of ropes held him in a standing position no matter what.

Ted got the first watch. He soon fell asleep; his light, regular snoring eventually took its toll on Zach, who dozed off. He would wake up abruptly from a bad dream involving being trapped or being made a prisoner. He would get an adrenalin rush from the realization and get back to his uneasy slumber.

“I’m your master now.”

When Zach opened his eyes, Shaun was looking at him with a devious smile plastered over his face. It was daylight outside. He wasn’t dreaming: a new day of torments lay ahead.

“You’re speechless. Good. A fine quality in a Booboo.”

“Mmmmh! Mmgrmmbllm!”

“And well awake Ted and Bill are going to prepare you for today’s stretch of the trip.”

Zach didn’t intend to let them handle him without struggling. But two men with proper tools for subjugation are no match for an opponent barely half their weight. So Zach was untied from the pole to be hobbled with chains. They removed his gag briefly and fed and watered him; then a clean piece of material was packed in his mouth again before his lips were taped and the kid-leather hood was put back on. Bill worked more efficiently than Shaun, and the grip of the formidable muzzle soon had Zach reduced to silence.

The two cronies eventually brought him to the bathroom, where he was made to relieve himself before he got cleaned. Bill put a clean tee shirt on Zach and then got him into a big adult diaper that he topped with thick, rustling plastic pants.

“Just a precaution, boy. It’s a long trip,” Bill said.

Looking at his diapered middle in the bathroom mirror, Zach felt humiliated. It made his butt look bigger. He wondered how many hours he would remain like this. Yesterday had seemed long to him, but if they needed to prevent a bathroom incident it could be much longer today.

Ted and Bill brought him back to the living room; Shaun had rolled in a big flight case. It was twice as high as those they’d transported the day before. Bill opened the latch to the cover and lifted it. He fiddled with the front panel, which revolved around hinges too. The small seat and the various straps inside told Zach this would be where he would travel today.

Ted and Bill were methodical: his legs’ hobbles were replaced with straps at ankles, knees, and thighs. With his legs neutralized, they could release his arms and get him to sit inside the crate. They laid his diapered ass on the small seat screwed to the back panel. His arms were restrained to the side panels one after the other. His forearms were parallel to the ground, held at wrists and elbows; straps imprisoned his biceps, anchoring his arms. His legs were pushed back towards him, his knees touching his chest. Two straps were added to prevent him from unfolding them, tugging his shins and ankles towards the back of the case.

They lifted and locked front panel but kept the top lid open as they wheeled the flight case outside the room. Zach’s eyes were just above the edge, and he could see his surroundings. They were back in the garage where Shaun was getting busy loading bags into the van.

“Let’s have the guards extend him an invitation to the palace”

Zach had a faint memory of hearing this in Aladdin, but it was more Shaun’s tone that let Zach identify the reference.

“Don’t worry, Zach. It is cramped in there, but we’ll keep you entertained.”

“Mmmph?!”

Zach imagined the worst. Where they planning to suffocate him in an unvented and airtight crate?

“Make sure he’s never found,” Shaun sentenced.

The case’s top was brought down, plunging Zach into darkness. He felt the case being lifted into the van and locked to the floor like the wheelchair had been. The almost imperceptible rumble of the engine starting reached his ears.

At the same time, a small LCD screen lit up right in front of his eyes. It was embedded in the panel along with small speakers on each side of his head. The Disney logo appeared on a blue background. The oriental music confirmed he was watching Aladdin.



Zach was through the fourth run of the movie, which started over as soon as the credits rolled, when he felt his case being moved. The lid opened. He looked up at Shaun’s face. The man was sniffing the air coming out of the confined space.

“No accident, boys,” he said to Ted and Bill. “Our friend Zach is holding up.”

He looked down, meeting his captive’s angry eyes.

“It won’t be much longer, Abooboo.”

The lid shut off again and the screen flickered in front of Zach’s eyes. But it was no longer the full movie, just the scene of Aladdin being seized by the guards. The same one he’d been shown in the hotel room. He quickly lost count; he watched a at least one hundred times Aladdin being seized, bound, gagged, thrown from the cliff, and get close to drowning before he was saved by the genie.

TBC
User avatar
Killua
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 533
Joined: 4 years ago
Location: Germany

Post by Killua »

Great story, glad I found it.
Image
Banner by Bondagefreak

My F/m Story:
Not as planned F/m
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

I thought the story was gone, but it was on page 2. [mention]Killua[/mention] Thanks for the comment! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Chapter 7 – The palace of the One Thousand and One Delights

When the lid finally opened again, Shaun was smiling at Zach.
“Welcome to A-Grabber, city of mysterious disappearances, of entanglement, and the finest merchandise this side of the Pacific. Come on down!”
The movie’s dialogues would be twisted in all manners as long as he remained prisoner of these kooks, Zach thought. His minders took him out from the case.
“The merchandise hasn’t suffered,” Shaun said as he closely inspected the captive he’d snatched, “but he could do with a little cleaning. Ted, Bill, I’ll let you handle him. I’ll be waiting in this young man’s quarters. I need to ensure everything is ready.”
Shaun left and, a silk bag was pulled over Zach’s head. The men checked that his shackles around his wrists and elbows held fast and added some at his ankles. Zach was in no shape to fight, barely recovering from being balled up in the cramped space, but the goons took no chance.
Bill and Ted grabbed him under his armpits and led him out. They first stopped in a bathroom with marble and golden fixtures and lots of Arabian-style decorations. His blinding hood was removed as well as his unused diaper.
Zach had fewer inhibitions about being naked now; he wanted to pee real hard, though. They sat him on the toilet, and he relieved himself happily.
Bill removed Zach’s tee shirt and put him in the shower. The two men cleaned him up, careful not to wet themselves or, worse, Zach’s fancy leather hood. Although short, the washing did him good. The warm water infused some mobility into his legs and arms. He soon was pulled from the warm environment and dried in a fluffy towel by four strong hands.
His silk hood was pulled over his eyes again. They frog-marched him again through long halls. After climbing stairs and going down others, they entered a room. A couple of minutes later, Shaun’s voice informed him they’d reached their destination.
“Here you are! All clean and smelling good. Bring him to me, boys. And let me see his eyes.”
The hood slipped off Zach’s head, and he took in all. Shaun stood wrapped in a large silk cape, dressed as the sorcerer Jafar. He had a thin moustache and a goatee to complete the resemblance. Fake eyebrows, too. Shaun’s friends in the prosthetics department at the studio proved handy.
The lustful look he gave Zach made the poor captive blush. Zach realized he was naked.
“Isn’t it cute, boys? Our little Abooboo is blushing. He must be embarrassed displaying his wonderful body to us.”
“Don’t worry, Abooboo, we’re going to protect your modesty,” the two henchmen sniggered.
Shaun went to a four-poster bed where clothes were laid out. Bill freed Zach’s ankles. They’d brought him to another oriental set with pastel colours of various hues but with lots of orange and red and softer touches of blue and green.
A big satin-covered pouf lay besides the bed, where silky drapes hung from the canopy; Zach knew it was called an ottoman. Close to it were a large trunk, like in pirate films, a couple of chairs, and a cot. The walls sported oriental wood panels. High on the walls were the windows, their sill some eight or nine feet above the floor.
Shaun kneeled in front of Zach, an outfit in his hands.
“Let’s make sure you don’t wave your dick around trying to lure men,” Shaun said as he pulled some briefs up Zach’s legs.
Very soft fabric glided smoothly over his skin. Once pulled up, his cock and balls were sheathed in the stretchy material that snugly hugged his bottom. Zach tried to look down to see how he looked. Shaun noticed and spun Zach around to face a mirror. Zach got a good sight of his behind: his round and firm buttocks were swathed with shimmering fabric. In other circumstances, Zach would have found this hot.
Then came the pants: white and made of polyamide fabric, they came down under his knees and gripped his waist; the cut was designed to enhance his backside as well. A large silken red belt was wrapped around his waist.
To turn Zach into Aladdin, Shaun didn’t need to release his arms. The diminutive blue waistcoat had zips just above the shoulders, so it could be put on someone with bound hands. With the red hat, Zach was just Aladdin at the beginning of the cartoon—with a more visible butt and a tight kid leather hood wrapping his head. As he looked at his kidnapped victim, this detail seemed out of place to Shaun.
“Ted, could you get a glass of water and silk scarves? White ones would be better.”
He removed Zach’s hat and started unlacing the leather hood. The pressure around Zach’s head decreased, to his relief. The hood was pulled off; it clung to his matted hair and his sweaty skin. Shaun took his time, pulling it away in all directions. Eventually, he triumphed over the animal hide. He pulled the tape away and collected the wadding as Ted came back with a glass and a pitcher of water.
When Shaun gave him water to drink, Zach felt even better. He hoped this improvement in his condition would last. He got three glasses of fresh water but spotted with a worried eye Bill folding the silk scarves. The glass returned on the tray. His mouth was free for the first time since the morning: he had to try to at least be spared the gag.
“Please, Mr. Wainworth, don’t gag me … I won’t try to call out, I promise, I’ll mmmphmmmbllmm!”
Ted was close behind the young man and acted promptly with his large hand. “This is one feisty dude, boss,” he sniggered. “A polite one at that. ‘Please, Mr. Wainworth!’ He won’t be punished for being rude, at least.”
“You’re right, Ted. Still, such a favour is out of question. Gags are part of your costume now, Aladdin. Bill?”
The massive man stepped forward with a big ball of silk in his hand. Zach twisted and squirmed, forcing Ted to tighten his embrace. The duo was skilled and coordinated, so no shouting came out when Ted removed his hand and held on to Zach’s jaw as Bill slid the silk inside.
Ted’s handgag returned while Bill took another scarf. A tight cleave gag made it impossible for Zach to spit the massive ball of fabric out.
“You take care of the upper layer, boss?”
Shaun stood away watching his men handle the reluctant prisoner. He approached with a long folded white poplin scarf in his hand. The soft cotton clung tighter than silk to top the gag.
Zach was still struggling, but two pairs of hands held him, making it easy for the third pair to bind the white scarf around his lower face.
“This should tame you, Abooboo. A little taste of ropes will get it through your head that any resistance is futile.”
Bill got ropes from the trunk, and the rope binding started. The three men worked silently, each knowing what to do, gesturing if they had to move or if they spotted any slack. They tied his arms tightly behind his back at the wrists and elbows, using a harness to pin them against his back. His legs were equally trussed up with five coils of rope from his ankles to the top of his thighs.
They had him lie on his belly over the ottoman. Three pieces of rope turned Zach into a neat parcel: his captors pulled his ankles, the balls of his feet touching his satiny buttocks, and tied them against the back of his thighs.
“Welcome to your new quarters, Street Rat. As it’s your first day here, let this be a warning. If you display any bravado in the future, it won’t be a cosy hogtie in your luxurious room: you will be shackled to a wall in one of the castle cells, several floors under our feet, and they’re not as comfortable as this room.”
The three men gathered the things they had removed or used, tidying the place, and left the poor Zach to squirm. The sound of a key turning inside a lock resounded in the large room.
He tried to reach the knots making these ropes such a hopeless trap, to no avail. The size of the gag was distressing. He wondered if the previous one had been more bearable. The wadding wasn’t as big, but the hood spread the pressure over all of his head, and the knots on the nape of his neck were already uncomfortable.
Shaun’s obsession with Aladdin was on full display: he had turned the room into a set from the cartoon.
Zach went on squirming. Efforts paid off: he felt the rope around his ankles loosen. Slowly and methodically, he kept on struggling against his bonds, which worked better than thrashing around. By pulling on the ropes he eventually managed to loosen the rope binding his hands.
Zach started picturing how the ropes encircled him. He had made mental notes when they bound him; even though keeping track of the three men’s moves was hard, he had a good memory, a needed skill for an actor. He eventually reached a knot that could be undone. Other ones had threads terminally knotted off somewhere else. Once he’d untied it, Zach’s spirits rose. The hogtie was gone, and he could let his legs unfold.
Zach sat on the ottoman. He leaned forward, and with a quick push on his legs, he stood up. He looked for something to cut his bonds with. No blade in sight. Zach noticed that the trunk had nailed metal corners to protect it from shock. One of them was slightly off.
He hopped towards the trunk and sat on it; his fingers felt the piece of metal sticking out: it had sharp edges. He positioned his hands to rub the rope binding his wrists against the metal. He had to find the right angle, but it would work. He increased his pace and soon cut the rope. With his wrists free, he could tackle more knots; it took time, but he eventually freed himself. He undid the scarves gagging him and he guzzled down the rest of the water in the pitcher.
The door was still locked. Looking at the room, he thought that maybe there was another exit. Through the windows? He looked up; there were bars behind them, even if he managed to climb and open them. He felt a breeze running over the nape of his neck. A venting system perhaps?
Zach touched the wall with his nimble fingers. The tip of his digits discovered a gap inside the wall. He inspected light fixtures nearby. The general look of the mansion hinted at secret passages; twisting the first light fixture, he found it turned smoothly and clicked. A panel opened within the wall and slid sideways.
Zach stepped inside the passageway. Small bulbs provided a faint light. Zach was taking his fifth step, trying to see around the corner ten feet ahead of him, when the floor collapsed under him. The trapdoor’s hinges were three feet behind, and Zach didn’t have time to grasp on anything. He fell, immediately gliding over a well-polished metallic slide; he couldn’t stop with his legs, and his smooth clothing didn’t help. Before he gained too much speed, he landed on a thick rubber mat.
The young actor lifted his head and took in the surroundings, stunned. It was a large cave, which had to be somehow modelled after the Cave of Wonders in the cartoon he had to watch over and over during transportation. But he didn’t have time to explore, as his eyes almost immediately focused on what mattered most: the three men who’d kidnapped him were sneering at him. Ted and Bill held chains and cuffs, and Shaun waved a large leather bag around.
“Our Street Rat is better at escaping than I’d thought. We’ll have to show him what happens to those who try to escape from us. Ted, Bill …”
The two henchmen moved in closer. Zach crouched, ready to jump to a side and try to bypass the muscled pair. The cave was wide, and if he could make it past the wicked director, he could lose them in the maze.
Sadly for him, though, he didn’t get to test his skills at outrunning followers in a chase. As he jumped to the right, Bill’s big hand snatched his collar. Zach writhed and twisted to escape Bill’s grip around his waist.
“LET ME GMMMmmmmmbbl Mmmph!”
Ted had not left his friend without assistance long; he clamped his right hand over Zach’s mouth, grabbing one of his arms and leaving him completely unable to escape their formidable grip. Cuffs were added at his wrists and padlocked behind him. Bill took over the handgagging as Ted was busy shackling the unfortunate boy once again. Shaun, dressed in his black silk robe, stepped closer to enjoy the whole treatment, which he was recording with a small video camera.
“Mmm! Mmmbblmm! MMM!”
“You’re hopeless when it comes to escaping the just nature of your punishment, Abooboo. Yes, you’ve kidnapped the princess, and this can only be paid back by being kidnapped tenfold!”
Zach didn’t have time to wonder about multiplying kidnappings. His captors’ vindictiveness was all too real, as his limbs had been tightly restrained; they were ready to gag him, which seemed to be the highlight of a capture. Shaun took something out of his bag.
“If simple scarves are too nice for you, maybe we can use something, let’s say, more punishing.”
It was a rubber contraption with a bladder attached. As Shaun approached, Zach recognized the item from online bondage shops: a butterfly gag. Bill helped Shaun to put it on Zach; the henchman slid his hand down, uncovering Zach’s lips and cupping his chin. The actor didn’t try to call out this time, but Ted knew the drill too. He pressed Zach’s jaws with his thumbs, forcing the boy to loosen his muscles for a second, which Bill used to pry Zach’s mouth open.
The rubber bulb entered his mouth, and Shaun adjusted the small flap covering the boy’s lips. Shaun produced a pump he plugged between Zach’s teeth. The bulb started to expand with the first squeeze of the pump. It grew further, stretching Zach’s jaws and trapping his tongue. Luckily for him, it didn’t grow towards the back of his throat, but his tongue was crushed under a layer of rubber.
He grunted in protest, to no use. Shaun taped Zach’s lips and lower face and added a rubber swim cap. He adjusted it at length and then wrapped Zach’s head with more layers of the white silky material, alternating vertical and horizontal turns.
“You’ve proved we have to keep you under a close lid. Gentlemen, bring him back upstairs. I’ll let you make sure he won’t be pulling any tricks on us.”
Ted took a scarf out of his pocket and blindfolded his captive. They marched him through halls and up staircases until they finally were back inside the room he’d escaped from. The blindfold was removed. Zach didn’t like the way they looked at him.
“Our Street Rat has a formidable ass. Nice round buttocks. I’d say we give him a good spanking for being naughty,” Bill suggested.
Ted approved; he helped Bill change the cuffs so Zach’s forearms would be parallel to each other, wrist cuffs linked to elbow cuffs. Zach’s bottom was cleared off. The two men held him standing.
“Ten each, then?” Ted asked.
The hands fell over Zach’s bottom in turns. The blows were sharp. They stung, and Zach screamed behind his gag throughout the punishment. He counted in his head to twenty spanks. The captors weren’t done with his behind, though; they used the pretext of checking how warm it had gotten to caress the silk-covered bum.
“It did get hot, but nothing like what we can get with a paddle.”
“You’re right, Bill. At least he won’t have a bruised ass for a week, though.”
“Mmmh?!”
The dreadfully effective gag made Zach’s moans useless. He could do nothing as the two henchmen took him towards the canopy bed and got him spread-eagled on his back. Not only were his wrists and ankles held to the posts, but a leather harness imprisoned his chest and waist, and ropes were threaded through D-rings over the harness to be attached to the bed frame.
“I doubt you’ll get free from this one soon,” Bill sniggered.
The door to the room opened. Lifting his head, Zach saw Shaun as he’d expected. The kinky director wasn’t alone: he was followed by another bound creature.
“TJ kept our young Marty in good shape. I haven’t had time to change him into a more fitting costume, but he soon will be wearing stuff that matches our young Aladdin’s outfits.”
As Shaun came closer to the bed, Zach observed the fit young man dressed in grey without much surprise. Had he seen this prisoner a few days before, he would have been puzzled by the warped nature of his costume and bondage.
The skimpy shorts, the hairless legs, the silk stockings, the white shirt and blue tie, the blazer and the hat—he was a kinky version of a British schoolboy. The leather harness and the single glove that appeared when the boy was made to turn near the bed seemed very strict.
“Zach, this is Marty. Marty, meet Zach.”
No reaction from the captives.
“You’re quite rude. Cat got your tongue?”
“Mmm mmp.”
“Mmmblmmph.”
“Much better. Has Zach behaved, gentlemen?”
“He did, boss. We spanked his heinie so he knows who we were.”
“You did? Marty must have his own ass stimulated. Lately, TJ here seems to be into naughty schoolboy scenarios. Did he spank you, Mart?”
Zach saw—and heard—how heavily the boy was gagged. One of the mouth corsets had been laced over the boy’s lower face and neck, likely concealing lips sealed over fat wadding.
“Well, my boys,” Shaun said, looking at Marty and Zach, “it turns out you’re in for some adventures here. I intend to have lots of fun with both of you. But I’ll make you work hard too in a new feature I have in mind. This place is convenient both for shooting some scenes and having you rehearse and practice them. We believe in giving you first-hand experience on being bound and gagged so your performances will be acceptable. We have company once in a while, so we’ll have to keep you out of sight and hearing: my guests don’t like being disturbed. Ted and Bill are in charge of your welfare, so you’d better not cross them. Is it clear?”
Shaun raised an eyebrow, triggering grunts from his prisoners.
“Good. Ted and Bill will prepare you for the night. Get the rest you can. I have a busy schedule for you tomorrow.”
Zach’s grunts turned into sighs as he wondered how this insanity would end.
Boundcurious
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 155
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: Britain

Post by Boundcurious »

Each chapter is just as excellent as the previous ones. Thank you!
privateandrews
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 171
Joined: 4 years ago

Post by privateandrews »

A fantastic story .
Bondwriter
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 575
Joined: 6 years ago

Post by Bondwriter »

[mention]Boundcurious[/mention] [mention]privateandrews[/mention]
Thanks for the comments and making the story stay on page 1. A festive day and another chapter!

Chapter 8 – Ted and Bill’s Most Excellent Handling


After a night spent tied in a sixty-nine with Marty on top of him, his crotch close enough to benefit from the musky and manly smells, Zach was taken out of bed by Ted and Bill. The two henchmen enjoyed preparing an actor for a new scene. Shaun had things to do, so they were to keep the new recruit in his room for a few days. Marty joined them as an extra toy to play with and keep busy; Ted and Bill didn’t mind keeping two prisoners tightly bound and gagged.

Of course, with two hot bundles like Marty and Zach, the two hunks could enact many scenarios. Ted and Bill were into various fetishes and domination role-plays; from a young age they experienced restraining and kidnapping victims, starting with neighbourhood boys.

Time went fast for the duo as they tackled a favoured activity: dressing up the unblemished soft skin, round buttocks, and well-developed sausages of two young men and getting them in an uncomfortable yet sexy position.

Ted and Bill dressed the two boys in their respective costumes. With Zach as the street urchin and Marty the kinky schoolboy, the scene looked more like that of a Halloween parade than of an actual movie.

Zach’s bum wrapped in white satiny silk got Ted all woozy; when his eyes drifted away from the alluring sight, they fell on Marty’s grey satin-clad butt, which didn’t really help Ted go any softer in his own hugging briefs.

Shaun had told them to keep the two captives together. Considering the situation, Ted and Bill got the ropes out with the intention of having the schoolboy worship the Persian prince. They were about to start binding Zach to a stone pillar when Ted’s phone rang. He grunted. It was Shaun, which meant a possible change of plans.

“Ted? I just wanted to let you know I’ll be with the decorating crew all day. There’s this guy I wouldn’t mind luring into some sexy time, so you’d better make sure our two guests can’t make a peep. If my guest turns out not to be into kink, I’d rather keep him from hearing them at all.”

“Sure, Mr. Wain … uh, Shaun.”

Shaun had insisted on being on a first-name basis with his recruited staff. They were paid enough to try and please their employer. Ted turned to Bill.

“He doesn’t want his guests to hear these two at all.”

Bill smiled. He’d learned to do this from their very first adventures. One time they’d captured a neighbour, Bill had gotten into trouble for not gagging his prisoner. They then learned how useful a thick gag was to prevent someone in the vicinity from detecting a victim held against his will. The bulky thug didn’t turn down any occasion to silence a captive.

While Bill was preparing to take care of Marty’s mouth, Ted was trussing Zach up to the purple marble pillar in neat coils of white cotton ropes around his limbs and body. He tightened them little by little, first to pull his ankles back against the cool and hard surface. Zach’s shins came next, then his knees and thighs; Ted took particular delight in ending the length of ropes he’d used as a crotch rope, going along Zach’s groin and ending in a two-turn belt fastening his waist against the pillar.

Ted undid the leather cuffs imprisoning Zach’s hands at the small of his back to take care of his chest and torso.

Bill quickly decided how he would thwart Marty’s possible attempts to call out. Truth be told, this had happened often; Shaun kept the kidnapped young actor trussed up, muzzled, and stored away while he had visitors. This added to the thrill.

Shaun had made an impression on the young actor, who’d checked in with dreams of getting a break in Hollywood, only to be abducted; Marty had no acquaintances he’d informed about his weekend up north. He’d realized the serious mistake soon after arriving at the manor, when it was too late.

The young twink joining him brought some comfort. Marty found him one the most handsome fellows he’d seen in bondage. Shaun’s taste for tight shiny clothing and his brother-in-bondage’s amazing curves made for a nice improvement in Marty’s life. It was better than being in TJ’s hands all day. The brute liked nothing better than a glowing red bottom.

“You’ve heard Ted, Marty. You’re getting this cute little gob of yours stuffed.”

Bill had stashed the captive boys’ underwear in his pocket when he’d changed them. He removed Marty’s leather plug gag. The strap was tight and restraining, but the plug was of a moderate size compared to those Shaun liked using on Marty. It was quickly replaced by the two pieces of underwear, including Marty’s own, which he knew he’d worn for at least three days.

The skimpy briefs didn’t reach the volume of the jockey shorts that Shaun had sometimes used on him. Bill clamped his hand as he retrieved something from his pocket.

“See, Marty, I changed this morning too. I’m afraid I’ve leaked precum in these; actually, I also shot my juice in them last night …”

The fiend added the piece of nylon, smelling heavily of manly musk, to the already consequent mass in Marty’s mouth. Some tape, a rubber swim cap, and more tape, and Marty was properly gagged and silenced. His eyes were watering. Bill had a knack for getting close to the point where breathing for the victim would be difficult. Marty knew that with time, the bundle would compress and become a solid mass.

Bill left Marty standing, his hands and elbows bound behind him. He joined Ted, who had used three more coils of rope to make Zach part of the marble column.

“Have we told you you’ll never be found? Hum, Prince Ali?” Bill taunted.

The two devious goons chuckled.

“And to be sure of this, you will be muzzled. Shaun won’t take any chances. You’ll have to get used to being put aside once in a while. Marty is used to being left on his own for long periods of time as Shaun throws parties or has some of his business partners and associates come and visit. Not everybody knows about his peculiar leanings.”

Zach had witnessed Marty’s underwear stuffing ten feet in front of the pillar; he now had Marty’s watery eyes sinking into his. Despite the tears, Zach could read the comforting glance.

Zach’s mouth was crammed with tasty and smelly nylon stockings worn by the four men in the room: one sock from each of them, poked in slowly. The goons then fit Zach with a kid leather lower-face mask. This wasn’t as bad as the tape, but the straps pulled his jaws close together and had him bite over the ball of dirty footwear.

“We just need to fasten Abooboo’s head to the pillar and our little British schoolboy will be able to worship him in silence.”

The fine art of weaving a harness around a captive’s head was Ted’s specialty; he used two coils of thinner rope. On top of the gleaming leather welding his jaws, the rope harness made for a fancy decoration and facilitated binding the captive’s head to the pillar behind him.

“What a sight, Ted,” Bill said, standing a short distance away, bringing Marty closer to the trussed-up Persian cutie. “Look, Marty, I’d say Prince Ali is having the hots for you.”

Zach blushed; he was hard. True, seeing Marty was not foreign to his current enlarging emotion.

“You’ll have to see for yourself,” Bill said as he pushed the schoolboy towards the pole-tied prisoner; Marty’s legs were devoid of hair, and his hefty boner tented his shorts. He was made to kneel in front of Zach.

They fixed his waist to Zach’s knees with more white rope and bound the silk-stockinged ankles crossed together.

“Here you go, Marty. Don’t rub against Zach’s legs. If there’s a wet patch in front of your shorts, Shaun will be told. And you don’t want Shaun to be told, do you?”

“Mmmph!” Marty shook his head, which made his gagged lips brush against Zach’s silk-covered manhood.

“Let’s make it more fun. If you don’t manage to get Zach to flood his shorts with cum, it’s you who’ll be punished, Marty. If you do, or if you make him leak enough precum, he will have his buttocks warmed up by TJ this evening.”

Marty faced a dilemma: he didn’t want the newcomer to be in trouble. For all he knew, he felt like trying to impress him; such beauty had to be worshipped indeed, and he was afraid of displeasing the young man.

Marty didn’t move. This didn’t please the henchmen. Ted kneeled behind the schoolboy and grabbed his head, sticking a pinky inside Marty’s ears. He started shaking his head, unwillingly caressing Zach’s crotch. The boy at the pillar was about to cream his shorts when a loud knock at the door got everyone to freeze—well, Ted and Bill froze.

TBC
Boundcurious
Centennial Club
Centennial Club
Posts: 155
Joined: 5 years ago
Location: Britain

Post by Boundcurious »

Just as good as usual. I particularly enjoyed the pole tie :)
Post Reply Previous topicNext topic