Bound in Byzantine Bonds: A Simon DuWright Adventure (MMM/MMM) Updated with Chapter XVIII 12/31/22

[gag1195]

I feel really bad, because I started this story originally on Deviantart, and really enjoyed it, but definitely have not kept up. I plan to fix that issue soon! Just know, I love the level of detail, and the very creative predicaments you describe!

[DeeperThanRed]

I'm so happy that there's a new chapter and you did a terrific job at writing Hugh and Simon's captivity! The tying and gagging scenes were amazing and I enjoyed them a lot even though I feel bad for our heroes.

Poor Hugh can't even open up to Simon about the guilt he feels, even though things were hardly entirely his fault. Palaiologos's little story was also really interesting and shows just how much meaning he sees in his twisted plan.

There're a lot of interesting reveals in this chapter and I need to think about them a little before giving my thoughts but wow.

[kankuro10]

Yes!! At last! A new chapter! And it was worth the wait!

The details were so good. Really, this chapter was so exciting. Palaiologos's story was very interesting. Also, I liked so much how you wrote the heroes' predicament.

I have to read this chapter again now, because it's so incredible.

[Bradstick]

Chapter VIII: Pinched and Pinioned Policeman

I’ve read the first couple chapters and oh my gosh these chapters are amazing. I’m upset with myself that I never read them earlier because they are so good.

All the bondage techniques are so different but also so incredibly hot. I’m in love with gag paste idea, that so far has been the best part.

I think so far my favorite kidnapping is Danny. The idea of being in a Locker room and then the next minute being bound to a chair with no sight, hearing, or ability to talk is so hot. I do feel for bad for him though, poor guys has no idea what’s going on. Get wait till I get time to keep reading.

[KidnappedCowboy]

Thank you all for taking the time to comment on my story and the latest chapter.

[mention]gag1195[/mention]: I enjoy posting here more than Deviantart. Glad you’re catching up. And you pay me some very nice compliments!

[mention]Bradstick[/mention]: I must thank [mention]Muscle-Flex[/mention] for coming up with the summary. Glad you like Danny. I like keeping him in the dark!

[mention]kankuro10[/mention]: I hope not to keep you waiting for long with the next chapter!

[mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention]: There’s more in store for the heroes! And Hugh may have to end his guilt trip.

[mention]Guardianbound[/mention]: Don’t worry too much…the Mounties always get their men, but may have to untie some more knots to do so!

[Bradstick]

I just finished chapter XIII and I’m still absolutely enthralled by this story. It while being incredibly kinky also has some very well developed characters that I keep falling in love with.

The bondage scenes have all been so unique and not repretitive at all. I absolutely love the use of sensory deprivation you continue to use. Johnny being able to resist the paste was also surprising. I was expecting him to loose his love for Simon while the paste was applied but it seems his love won out in the end.

I’m absolutely loving this series!

[KidnappedCowboy]

I’m absolutely loving this series!

I'm chuffed, [mention]Bradstick[/mention]

There are a few kidnapped men (more than a few, really) who've been taken in this story, but who may not be liberated in this story. Those kidnapped at the behest of the French brothers or abducted by the Slobobians will reappear in sequels.

[privateandrews]

this story makes my blood pump in all the right places , keep up this wonderful world of kidnapped hunks and the bondage woes they find themselves in.

[Muscle-Flex]

And now we are at the heart of the dastardly enterprise! Lots of great details and character interaction here. All our heroes are now entrapped… and it’s going to be very enjoyable watching that play out! Simon’s hallucinatory state was really well done – conveyed a feeling for that state of being, along with giving us more information about him, while moving along his interaction with the doctor. Nice!

[KidnappedCowboy]

[mention]privateandrews[/mention], so glad I've gotten your blood pumping with the latest chapters. Hold on, I hope to bring you into overdrive with the remaining ones!!

[mention]Muscle-Flex[/mention], yes, all are in place. Now, all that remains is for the Order to brings its plans to fruition!

Thank you, guys, for taking the time to read this adventure. You inspire me!

[Bradstick]

I finally got caught up with this story. This story has some of the most creative types of bondage. The green goo that held that Olympic guy was incredibly hot.

I’m still in love with Danny, he is easily my favorite character so far in this story, next in line though would probably be Peter. I really like where his whole story arc is going with him falling in love. Can’t wait to see more of those two!

I’m also super excited for when Simon see Johnny there. Especially with that whole Egyptian story, it sounds like Johnny and Simon won’t be sharing a cell, but rather Simon and Hugh will. Either way can’t wait to see what you have planned for this story!

[stimle]

[mention]Bradstick[/mention] Right?! It’s almost as if [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] has done this before…

[KidnappedCowboy]

@Bradstick Right?! It’s almost as if @KidnappedCowboy has done this before…

You ain't seen nothin, yet!

[gag1195]

[mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] I finally had enough free time to catch up with this marvelous tale! And I mean fully! I restarted it and thoroughly enjoyed every moment of this story. All of the characters are so layered and complex, the relationships are amazingly intertwined and developed! Even the characters we only spend a chapter or two with- the captives and their respective captors and/or guards get such wonderful development!

The scope of this story is also amazing! You've really created a wonderfully deep world with this tale! Even tying in other stories like the unfortunate fate of poor Buck! I was in awe with every chapter! And don't get me started on the bondage! So inventive and creative! And the introduction of some light sci-fi elements blends perfectly into this mostly grounded, mostly plausible world! The mystery of the fountain of youth serum, the strange eel creature, the intense power of the Paste, the continuous mentions of the Order's growing army! So well done!

I continually flip-flopped on my favorite characters, too! I think Simon was consistently my favorite. Its hard not to love that Mountie! But at other parts, Hugh and his pining and eventual betrayal was so endearing! And of course, the saga of Peter and Eddie! I can't believe I found myself rooting for someone so despicable, but Peter's doubting and his character growth because of Eddie was phenomenal to watch unfold! I really want his plot against Penrith! I also have a soft spot for Buck and poor Tommy Neville- I guess cowboys and American football players in bondage is a weakness of mine!

And of course, where the story has ended up! I cannot fathom a guess as to where you plan to take our heroes and prisoners next! I certainly hope that Simon is successful and rescues all of the Order's prisoners! I desperately hope that Simon can be reunited with Johnny, and they can escape to their little farm together! And against my best judgement, I even hope Peter is successful in reconnecting with Eddie! Perhaps Peter will be the key to Simon's escape? What else does the Order have planned, what tricks are up their sleeves? Will this story ultimately have a happy ending for the heroes? Or will we all have to find a new happiness under the Order's goals? Keep up the fantastic work my friend! This is nothing short of a masterpiece!

[KidnappedCowboy]

[mention]gag1195[/mention]...Thank you so much for your comments. I have one or two favorite characters in this series, but I'm not telling. In Simon, I've projected all the qualities I would see in myself as a hero in a "Dudes in Distress" tale. They're a take on certain stereotypes: manly but sensitive, an expert in what he does but a tad naive. For the other characters, they're based on what I observe in people.

I'm working on an update and finishing the tale. You've lit a fire under me to get it done sooner rather than later! Thank you.

[gag1195]

@gag1195...Thank you so much for your comments. I have one or two favorite characters in this series, but I'm not telling. In Simon, I've projected all the qualities I would see in myself as a hero in a "Dudes in Distress" tale. They're a take on certain stereotypes: manly but sensitive, an expert in what he does but a tad naive. For the other characters, they're based on what I observe in people.

I'm working on an update and finishing the tale. You've lit a fire under me to get it done sooner rather than later! Thank you.

Well, it shines through wonderfully in Simon! He is textbook Dude in Distress- in the best way! I see those similar qualities in a certain foppish police commissioner and attorney! I also see great similarities between Peter and Raffles! Your characters are always so well written!

[KidnappedCowboy]

It has been close to a year that I updated this tale. I hope it was worth the wait! As always, please leave a comment. It means the world to me!

Happy New Year!

Chapter XVIII: Cocooned Cohorts, Batter’s Up, Dream Creams, and Protective Cups
Dr. Mazarin’s Laboratory
Far Below in the Depths of the Palaiologos Mansion
Jules Mazarin picked up the leather Devonshire gag and pushed its pecker protrusion into Simon DuWright’s mouth before securing the restraint behind Simon’s head, once again muffling the doped-up deputy of the law. Mazarin then looked down on Simon with a measure of satisfaction. He believed that Hugh Warwick had wreaked havoc on his fellow Mountie’s feelings for Johnny Trudeau. After all, he had heard Simon moaning “Hugh,” after the libidinous and hallucinatory drug worked its way through the system of the brawny man with help from the doctor’s own petting. Michael Palaiologos and The Order could now use this information against Inspector Simon DuWright, who had been such a thorn in their sides. With this revelation, they could now prick the Righteous Redcoat with a thorn to his conscience and make certain DuWright felt the prick of Warwick’s erect prick at his beefy booty for eternity!

Simon DuWright and the other kidnapped me were at the heart of the project that Drs. Richelieu and Mazarin had worked for years to develop. But Mazarin now worried that Michael Palaiologos was putting the project in jeopardy with his latest acquisitions. It was very risky kidnapping such a high-profile athlete like Price Archer. Archer was a too well-known MLB outfielder with a multi-million-dollar contract. He would be missed by a great many people – his team, the public – and especially his team’s owners who had recently signed him for a deal worth $360 million. There would be a full-scale inquiry. Staging a car accident with charred remains was not the clean operation the Order usually planned to explain the disappearances of abducted men. And even the Montreal cop and his chauffeur boyfriend – abducting men required months of planning. These two were spur-of-the-moment. There would be another police inquiry into their disappearance. Palaiologos assured Mazarin that suspicion would fall upon the Slobobians – still the doctor believed the Grand Prior was courting unnecessary attention to their operation. He was letting his personal rivalry with the Slobobians cloud his judgment. There was the danger that the missing cop and the chauffeur would be linked to Archer’s “accident.” Selling all three to the French brothers in New Zealand was a perilous venture. All this deeply troubled Jules Mazarin.

So, Mazarin decided a little insurance was necessary for the success of the project – and as personal insurance. If things went south for Michal Palaiologos – Mazarin could step into the breech and assume command himself. Yes – the prospect of heading operations for the Order in this sector had great appeal to the scheming scientist! All he needed was a ready supply of the Mountie’s man-seed in reserve. And to accomplish that feat the muscular, majestic, and manly Mountie would now encounter the hedonic essence that would captivate him in captivity forever!

The devilish doctor knew very well that Palaiologos had ordered him not to apply the pulchritudinous poultice to Simon. And Dr. Mazarin would keep to the intent of the Grand Prior’s directive – he would not spread the satyric spit all over Simon’s body. But as for allowing Simon DuWright a taste of the prurient prickling awaiting him, the doctor might bend the letter of the directive. Yes – Dr. Mazarin would only draw upon the substance of the musky mucilage to smear on a small part – well, not exactly small – but a portion to work its libidinous nature on the policeman’s prized prick and plums to extract the necessary load of his man nectar for the doctor to cover his indemnity.

Dr. Mazarin brought a device from a freezer on top of the sideboard to the examination table, and he nestled it between Simon’s bound legs near his nut-sack and his now hardening cock. The gadget was a medium-sized, temperature-controlled, metallic, centrifuge receptacle with a clear firm but malleable hose attached to it. An extremely tight, durable – but thin – neoprene-like, transparent sheath was at one end of the clear tube. The doctor deftly took the sheath in his hands and stretched it over Simon’s boning rod and loin-purse. The material clung to the entire length and girth of Simon’s man shaft and enveloped his hefty balls. Only the purple-helmeted head of Simon’s stiffening schlong stayed unsheathed. The menacing man of science then walked back to the freezer and extracted a twin – but colder – metallic, centrifuge receptacle – again with a clear hose attached to it. A glassy, ultra-thin sheath like the one now covering Simon’s shaft and nuts (but smaller) clung to the end of the hose. Mazarin placed it beside its twin between Simon’s finely hewn and muscular thighs. The coldness of the second metal container did nothing to stem the rising of Simon’s mast. Mazarin maneuvered the tight sheath over Simon’s cockhead, and it clung to his glans and formed a perfect, hermetic seal with the sheath covering his shaft. The doctor double-checked the connections to the receptacles, then he made sure the temperature of each was precisely correct – to the exact degree for arousal, mutation, extraction, and genesis to occur. He was satisfied that all systems – as it were – stood ready and were set to go. Dr. Mazarin merely needed to open the first vessel between the legs of the manacled Mountie mounted before him. The second container would switch on automatically when it came time to seize Simon’s sweet seed for storage.

And from such man-seed will come such specimens! The devilish doctor mulled over the diabolical designs of the Order of the Black Rope.

With the flick of a switch, Dr. Mazarin commenced his own test of Project Regeneration. He stepped back from the examination table where Simon DuWright lay bound and gagged to observe the essence of the Paste of Paliaologos come to life. After years of research and experimentation, Dr. Richelieu had perfected the secretion he first came to know during his sojourn with the Seqüestradores tribe deep in the Amazon. The tribe had learned the secrets of a rare black orchid that secreted a green resin life-like in form. When applied to the genitalia of men, the substance would produce an enticingly erotic infiltration of exhilaration and irritation on them. The Seqüestradores used the resin in ritual torture of warriors whom they had captured in battle. The resin stimulated and aroused the bound and gagged captives and at the same time tormented them. Most importantly, the green resin of the black orchid had the effect of increasing the quantity and quality of the ejaculate of the constrained captives.

As the green resin came to life in the container to begin its journey to Simon’s pride and joy, Jules Mazarin delved deeply into his own memories of his expedition with Armand Jean Richelieu so many years ago to the heart of the Amazon and his fateful encounter with the Seqüestradores and this erotic elixir …

Tribal Treachery
As the first rays of the sun peaked over the age-old buildings of the Latin Quarter in Paris, Jules Mazarin awoke in the embrace of his lover Armand Richelieu. They were in Jules’ apartment near the Jardin des Plantes, and they had spent the previous night making love. It was a very tiny apartment for one tall and muscular, young man, let alone two – but Jules did not care. The rent was cheap. It was in the heart of Paris. And he was in love.

Jules and Armand had finished their medical studies at the Université de Paris – the Sorbonne -- that spring. They had only known each other for a short time – meeting the final year of their studies – but from the moment Jules met him, Armand captivated him – so much so that Jules no longer spent much time with his friends and other classmates. They were both in their mid-twenties, very handsome, and possessed the energy of youth. Yet – Armand Richelieu seemed older to Jules. Armand had more experience of the world and had seen so much of it. In contrast, Jules came from a small farming community in Auvergne in southwestern France. His studies were his ticket away from that life. An only child – his parents recognized his aptitude for learning when he was still a young boy and encouraged their son to work hard in whatever was at hand from farming to the playing field to the classroom. Jules grew strong from farm work and excelling on the pitch at rugby, but it was his intellect that grew by leaps and bounds with schoolwork. Jules’ excellent grades earned him scholarship after scholarship all the way to Paris and the Sorbonne. Tragically, his parents did not live to see the fruit of their son’s labor. They were killed in a car accident shortly before he and Armand became lovers.

Armand provided Jules much needed comfort in the embrace of his strong arms since the death of his parents. He was an attentive and compassionate lover, when Jules needed it most. He feared that he was now all alone in the world, but Armand promised Jules that he would never feel unfettered with him. He would always be there to make Jules secure. Jules was so innocent to the ways of the world and vulnerable emotionally. He took Armand’s words at face value, never suspecting how literal his lover’s promises would turn out to be. Jules opened his heart to Armand. He was an idealistic, young man, who could hardly contain himself. His feelings for Armand grew deeper, and Jules confided in him about his desire to help the impoverished throughout the world, who had little if any access to physicians and modern medical facilities – “I want to help them and not just be a doctor to the well-off! We have enough of those in France. I want to make a difference to the less fortunate.” Armand promised Jules he would be bound to keep that promise.

One day during the academic year, as the medical students prepared for their careers after graduation, Armand told Jules of an organization that fit to a tee the type of group Jules sought to belong to. Jules was so excited to learn he could be part of consortium of physicians around the globe that addressed the need of access to medical professionals in underdeveloped countries. Armand told him the goal of the group – “Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir” – was to bind men together in a global network, whose goal was building a better world. Of course, Jules understood that better world would be one that saw the eradication of disease. Never did he suspect other motives.

“Yes, mon ami,” Armand told him, “Once secured by Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir, men need never worry again of earthly cares. I want you to experience the security our bonds bring with them. A symbol of my dedication to the group is the tattoo I wear.” Armand showed the small tattoo of the bound, crossed wrists on the inside of his left wrist to his lover.

Jules looked intently at the tattoo for a moment. He then took hold of Armand’s wrist and brought it to his lips, kissing Armand’s tattooed wrist gently.

“I want to be bound to you, Armand, in the same pursuit” He murmured.

“Oh, you shall, my love, you shall…” Armand vowed.

So, Armand persuaded Jules to travel with him to the Amazon. Two weeks later, Jules ended his lease on his flat. As for the family property left to him from his parents, Armand helped Jules to place it in a trust for Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir in case anything should happen to him. Jules was young, enthusiastic, and carefree to other concerns. Love for Armand and his desire to help humanity blinded Jules to all else. In less than a month from the time of their conversation in bed on that glorious, Parisian morning, Jules and Armand were on a flight from Paris to Sao Paolo where they boarded another flight to Ponta Pelada Airport – the closest landing field to the Amazon rainforest.

On their arrival at Ponta Pelada, men from the Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir met Armand and Jules and arranged for the four-hour drive to the rendezvous point where the two met up with the guides and bearers who led them deep into the Amazon to encounter the Seqüestradores. Before he knew it, Jules found himself part of an expedition which he thought would bring much needed medical supplies and knowledge to a tribe of indigenous people deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest. Little did he realize the true purpose of the journey, or how it would change his life forever!

The trek through the rainforest in the tropical heat was grueling, but – thanks to his superb level of fitness from having spent much of his young life working on his family’s farm, playing rugby at school, and keeping to a strict workout and diet regimen – Jules was well suited to keep up with the rest of their group – Armand, João Pflüger, and the crew. João was a young man of German ancestry from Brazil, who served as guide. Ten indigenous men – the Manipuladores – acted as scouts and bearers on the quest. João was a year or two older than Jules, and he was beautiful. His physical characteristics betrayed his German ancestry with high cheekbones, blondish hair, blue eyes, and fine features. His forename was the only Portuguese attribute about him. His parents were German anthropologists who lived in Brazil studying the indigenous tribes of the Amazon. His mother died when he was a small lad, and his father left him (when he went into the Amazon thereafter) in the care of the family of the Brazilian man who served as his guide. When he was thirteen, the guide came back without his father from one such expedition. He had a strange tale to tell, although the exact circumstances and many details were kept from the young João. A group of indigenous men attacked their party and carried his father off with them into the rainforest. He was presumed dead. With only very distant relatives left to João in Germany, the guide’s family raised him, and the man taught him the skills of his avocation. João decided also dedicate his life like his paretnts, and he had just completed his doctorate in anthropology at the University of Paris. Armand had met him there, and he persuaded him to meet up with him and Jules in Brazil. Jules learned about João’s background after Armand introduced the two. Armand later told Jules that João would learn much from the Seqüestradores. He claimed the tribe would keep João tied up for many years to come.

“I guess João will devote his research on the Seqüestradores.” Jules suggested, after learning he would accompany them to the Amazon.

“It will become his bounden duty!” Armand declared.

The Manipuladores decorated their bare chests and foreheads with red and white paint. The wore only what could be described as small thong-like pouches to cover their genitalia and simple leather huaraches. Jules marveled at the level of their physical fitness and endurance. The indigenous men were not tall, but they were powerfully muscled from living in the harsh conditions of the jungle their entire lives. They carried the heavy burdens of supplies and medicines with ease. Their muscles glistened in sweat from the heat, but they bore no notice of the intemperate clime. Two Manipuladores served as scouts, staying ahead of the group, while the other eight were bearers divided equally in front of and behind Armand, Jules, and João, as they trekked deeper into the tropical rain forest.

At the end of the third day of the safari, the group set up camp in a clearing about a mile from the river on which they had traveled in long, dugout canoes that day. Exhaustion was setting into Jules and João too, so Armand had the bearers set up a tent first to let them rest before they set up the rest of the camp.

“I want you both well rested for the festivities later tonight, mon ami!”

“What festivities, Armand?” Jules asked.

“You and João are new to Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir. I wish to welcome you into our special fold with a small celebration tonight.”

Once the tent was ready for them, Armand gave both men a small libation each to drink.

“To make your rest easier in this humid weather.” He assured them.

The drink was sweet and tingled as it went down their throats. As soon as Jules and João laid down on their open sleeping bags inside the tent, Morpheus took them into his arms and they fell into a deep slumber. While they slept, Armand supervised the scouts and bearers as they set up camp. Jules and João awoke to Armand calling them from outside their tent. Each felt alert, yet somewhat lightheaded.

The evening air was still warm but less humid. A Manipulador scout guided them to a nearby watering hole, where a few of the other trekkers awaited them with rough-hewn buckets and natural oils and aloe vera-like gels. The water of the pond glistened in the moonlight and firelight from torch tikis. The palms and branches of the rainforest surrounding them on all sides swirled and cast shadows about them. He couldn’t be sure, but Jules felt as if other eyes were watching them. Perhaps it was just the wind – or his mind – playing tricks on him. He didn’t know. Jules and João undressed and walked naked into the cool water. They swam about for a little while. When they emerged, Armand had arrived. He told them to let the trekkers cleanse them. The younger men hesitated, but Armand just smiled and explained it was part of the customary welcome into the fold of the Fraternité.

“You are giving your lives for the benefit of other men. Tonight – let other men bring you into our fold.”

Jules and João were wary. They looked to each other. Each saw only innocence and beauty in the other man and nothing but the same in Armand’s words. They agreed. The Manipuladores took them in hand and began to apply the salves to Jules and João. Whether it was the warm night air, the thrill of expectation, or the lingering effects of the sleeping draught, Jules gave into the hands massaging lotions all over his body. The Manipuladores pressed and kneaded his hard muscles stressed from the trek here. They gently rubbed aloe vera over the fine features of his face. He looked over at João. He, too, had given into the ministrations of the men about him. João caught Jules gazing at him and smiled back. They each looked down and saw the other’s arousal from the sensation of the hands of the Manipuladores stroking their bodies. Jules took in the splendor of João. He was like a classical statue come to life. João flexed the muscles of his thick thighs and sinewy arms, as the oils washed over his limbs. As João turned, Jules appreciated the sight of his high, bulbous buttocks – like two perky, ripe melons. Jules admired the curves of his taut torso, as the Manipuladores cascaded water from the buckets over him. Jules could see the tension lift from João’s pulsating veins as he relaxed from the ablution. He had fine, brownish-blond hair – a shade darker than the sun-bleached, curly hair of his heard – across his firmly toned chest and down his sculpted abdominal muscles in a trail leading to his soft, fluffy man-bush. When João looked up and saw Jules appreciative look, his deep blue eyes remained focused only on Jules. And he smiled. Jules grew braver and gazed upon João’s endowment. The gods were generous to him – but not exceedingly so. Jules’s own Jacques stirred to life. The Manipuladores paid little heed to the flirtations between Jules and João, as they finished washing them.

The scout guided them back to their tent. Once again, Jules had the distinct feeling that they were being watched from behind the fronds and other flora, but he brushed it off. Back at camp, Armand told them to dress only in shorts and huaraches like those worn by the trekkers. Jules and João soon joined Armand at a campfire by which the Manipuladores had prepared dishes native to their people. There were assorted vegetables and fish they had caught in a local tributary. Over the meal, Armand told Jules and João that they were joining a special fraternity of men dedicated to strengthening the bonds binding men together. Jules and João would never break free from those bonds. Naïve and innocent as they were then, both thought he meant that they would remain bound like other men of the fraternity to their common charitable and humanitarian efforts around the globe. And they would always find support for their philanthropy in Le Fraternité de la Corde Noir.

Armand gave them each small metal cups, which he then filled with cognac from a small flask behind him. He then put the flask away.

“I propose a toast…” Armand offered.

“Aren’t you drinking with us?” Jules asked.

“Oh! I forgot to pour one for myself.”

Armand reached behind himself again to pull a flask out and poured it into a third metal cup. Due to the darkness of the night, neither Jules nor João noticed the slight difference in color between the flask from which Armand poured cognac for them and the one from which he poured a drink for himself. He put the flask away once more.

Armand raised his cup.

Jules and João raised theirs.

“To unbroken bonds…May we be tied to one another for eternity!” Armand toasted and drank the contents of his cup.

Jules and João saluted Arman with their cups and swallowed the cognac.

The cognac was warm with a slight burn as it went down.

Armand rose and came to sit between Jules nor João.

“Tonight – we prepare for the final part of the journey.”

Armand placed his right hand on Jules’s left thigh and slowly started to caress him.

“You are so beautiful, Jules.”

Jules looked down at Armand’s hand stroking his thigh. As Armand’s hand moved back and forth, the movement mesmerized him. Then, everything slowly began to blur. Jules raised his head and looked at Armand who was smiling back at him.

“So beautiful…”

The words echoed in Jules’ head.

“Thank you, Armand…” His own words reverberated like a drumbeat.

Jules looked down once more as Armand’s hand drew inward to his crotch. Jules grew hard.

Regarding his lover once more, Jules saw Armand facing João now, and he was rubbing João’s thigh with his left hand.

“You’re so beautiful, João.”

The drumbeat grew louder in Jules’ head.

“Ahhmmaannnn…” Jules slurred his lover’s name.

Armand turned and pressed his lips against Jules’ own. Jules parted his lips and felt Armand’s tongue rush in. The kiss hardened his cock more.

Armand broke their kiss, turned to João, and began to kiss him.

Jules watched, but it was as if he were in a haze. The stroking of his thigh and now his cock continued. He was both confused and excited.

From one to the other, Armand continued to make out with Jules and João. The younger men grew dizzier – and more lustful! Fog began to cloud their minds and their vision. Armand put his arms around them and drew them into him – alternatingly kissing, pawing, petting, and arousing them. Their bodies soon entwined – it became difficult to tell who was kissing whom – who was cuddling whom – who was taking whom.

A dark cloud came over Jules and João and all went black…

Escape and Capture
João awoke just before daybreak to the distant cry of some wild animal and the sounds of birds. He lay naked on his stomach atop his sleeping bag in the tent where he and Jules rested the day before. His head throbbed. He slowly turned to see Jules asleep next to him, and like him, naked on his stomach atop his own sleeping bag. João shut his eyes…

The rustle of birds flying from their perches roused João moments later. Then – there was an eerie silence fell over the rainforest –

KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER

Loud squawks pierced the calm.

SWOOSH SWOOSH SWOOSH SWOOSH SWOOSH

The shrieks and whir of projectiles – arrows? – darts? – whistling through the camp roused Jules from his slumber.

“What’s going on?”

KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH

KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH SWOOSH KEEEEEEEEEER

“I don’t know.”

Both men leapt from their sleeping bags. Their clothes were nowhere…only huaraches. They quickly slipped them onto their feet and rushed out of the tent. Chaos and confusion ran rampant outside. The Manipuladores were running pell-mell through the camp. João saw other men chasing after them with nets and what looked like hollowed spears. The men were indigenous – taller and more powerfully built than the Manipuladores. The raiders wore nothing except for leather thongs and tougher huaraches than either Jules or João had. Black paint smeared their chests and faces in patterns.

KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH SWOOSH KEEEEEEEEEER

“Where’s Armand?” cried Jules.

KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH

KEEEEEEEEEER

João looked around him.

KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH KEEEEEEEEEER SWOOSH

“I can’t see him!!!” João yelled in answer.

“RUN!!!!!” It was Armand.

“GET OUT!!! RUN TO THE RIVER!” He screamed at them from somewhere.

“Come On!” João roared.

He and Jules took off in the direction of the river. As they ran out of the camp, they saw two Manipulador trekkers being hogtied by several attackers. One of the scouts was ahead of them – making a mad dash to escape. Just then…

SWOOSH

João felt a small barb whizz by him, and it struck the scout in his neck. He immediately fell to the ground.

João heard men running after them, but he dared not turn around to look. Fear – adrenaline – drove him and Jules forward.

“Omigod! We’ve got to get out of here!” Jules hollered beside him.

SWOOSH

Another dart flew by Jules – just narrowly missing him.

Their hunters were gaining ground. João and Jules furiously sped ahead.

Naked as they were, the ferns, branches, and palm leaves scratched their bodies all over, as they tore through the rainforest toward the river. The simple huaraches proved to be of little value to the two men, who were used to sturdier boots. But their superior level of fitness – and sheer fear – let João and Jules push through the pain and dread to race on to the river.

“KEEP RUNNING!!!”

Armand was behind them, but neither looked back – so focused were they now on escape. They kept running with sweat pouring down their bodies. Kept running…and running…

João could see the river ahead of them. He was panting hard. And he heard Jules wheezing close to him.

“The…ri…ver…ahe..ad! We…’re…almost…”

“Then…what?” Jules huffed.

“I…I…do…’nt…know!!!!” João gasped back.

As they got closer to the river, the sounds of the men chasing began to fade.

They burst through the jungle to the riverbank. They were too exhausted to go on. Jules collapsed to his knees, panting and gasping for air. João was bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. They were scratched, bruised, and sweat-soaked from bolting through the rainforest to get away from the raiders.

“Who…were…those…men…What’s…going…on?” Jules asked, as his panting eased off.

“I…don’t…know. We…need…to keep…going,” João took deeper breaths to ease off too. “We…need…to keep…moving!” He added.

“But where?” Jules shot back.

João looked back. He saw no sign of the raiders.

“Upriver – they’ll think we…will head…downriver.”

“Why don’t…we…swim across.” Jules nodded to the river.

“We would be…eaten alive…by caimans before…we reached…the other side.”

“Omigod, we’re fucked!!” Jules despaired.

“We have to try and escape…We have a chance – but only if we stick together, Jules.” João put his hand on Jules’ shoulder to reassure him.

“Okay.” Jules whispered.

“We’re out in the open here. We need to get back into the bush…we’ll follow the river but try to stay hidden…We’ve got to move.”

João and Jules slipped back behind the palms and started to move upriver at a steady trot. They had not gotten far when they heard the stamping of feet and rustling of branches not far off. They crouched down low. João put the palm of his hand face upward to his lips to signal Jules to remain silent. They listened for a moment. From the sounds of feet pounding, their pursuers were getting closer. João and Jules hid as best they could in the undergrowth and behind the fronds. The pursuers were close by. The two naked and frightened men held their breaths. João dared to cast his eyes in the direction from which the footfalls came. He saw pairs of sandaled feet, lower legs, and blowguns pointed down. From their ankles upward, the raiders had painted their skin black. João said a silent prayer. He dared not breathe. His prayer was answered. The feet turned, and their hunters hurried downriver.

João and Jules waited a moment before they moved. Seeing and hearing no one about they crept forward, keeping low to the ground. Satisfied that their hunters had gone downriver, the two young men increased their pace upriver under the cover of the forest. The only sound they heard was the flow of the river beside them. They didn’t risk stepping closer to the river just yet – out in the open would leave them too vulnerable. Sometime later, Jules whispered a hurried question to João.

“Who are they?”

“I don’t know. My mind is so messed up right now. I can’t even remember much of what happened last night…”

“I can’t either…And now this!! – Omigod…where’s Armand?”

“I have no idea…He may have run in a different direction or…”

“O God! No – if these men have caught him…” Jules started to panic.

João grabbed hold of him.

“Jules – we need to concentrate on getting out of here. Pull yourself together.”

Jules looked at João like a crazed animal. João – putting aside his own fears – stared straight at him with a calm face. Using all the strength he could muster, João gave Jules a small smile. After a beat or two, it worked. Jules pushed down on his anxiety. He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. And again. And again.

“Okay.”

João looked around. He saw and heard no one. He nodded to Jules that they should move on. The two started on through the forest by the riverbank but under the cover of the flora and trees beside it. Jules carefully followed João’s lead. Slowly but steadily, they began to put some distance between them and the point where they first reached the riverbank. Yet – they were hardly out of the woods and had little, if any, idea where they were headed.

Suddenly, João halted. Jules stopped dead in his track. They heard voices ahead. They came from the direction just beyond them from the forest along the riverbank. João again put the palm of his hand upward against his lips and tugged Jules behind a large tree. The men quickly got low to the ground and remained as quiet as possible. João placed a reassuring hand on Jules’s arm and carefully looked around the tree. He saw some of the men who had overrun the camp. They were by long dugout canoes, and they were standing over two captives. João recognized them as two bearers from their party. They were naked, hogtied, and had clumps of cloth in their mouths held there with cleave-gags. João looked over and saw that Jules had peered from behind the tree too. They looked at each other without speaking. Jules appeared to be searching for an answer as to what they should do. João could give him none.

The sounds of footsteps and voices from the deep recesses of the foliage gave them warning that others were approaching from within the rainforest. To their left and just ahead, João and Jules saw two more warriors trekking towards their companions. Each pushed one of the scouts ahead of them. The captives’ hands were bound at the wrists behind their backs. João and Jules watched silently as the captive scouts were led up to their hogtied companions. The warriors tore the thongs from the scouts’ bodies and forced the men to their knees. Then, the warriors took those thongs and wiped the sweat and musk from their own bodies before forcing the crumpled garments into the mouths of the men who had just worn them. Jules and João watched in horror as they saw the faces of the scouts turn from disgust at the heady taste of their own thongs to listless, when the warriors cleave-gagged them with rough strips of animal hide. They could not understand what was happening to those men. The scouts soon joined their compatriots -- hogtied and at the mercy of their captors.

SWOOSH

A dart flew by and embedded itself in the tree a millimeter above João’s right shoulder. He and Jules scrambled to their feet, alerting the party ahead to their presence. Two warriors began to rush towards them. Not daring to look behind them but aware that there must be men coming at them, João grabbed Jules, and they began to run back deeper into the rainforest

KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER KEEEEEEEEEER

João and Jules heard the warriors shriek in pursuit. With no path laid out for escape, the two leaped over fallen trees and dashed past fronds and vines, heaving and hurling themselves ahead to avoid capture. They were desperate. They saw a route between two trees in front of them just wide enough for two men to pass through alongside each other. They ran towards it.

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

João and Jules were suddenly thrown into the air and just as quickly fell backwards. Just feet above the ground, João and Jules jerked to a stop before crashing to the jungle’s floor. There, they dangled – one leg of each man had been caught in a trap. As they hung upside down, they swayed and swung to and fro in desperation to reach above for release. Try as they might, however, they could not reach the nooses that clung around their ankles.

Their pursuers surrounded them. Their war cries turned to laughter, as they watched their prey’s futile struggles to free themselves.

Jules screamed, “YOU BASTARDS!!!”

João saw the tears streaming down Jules’ face.

SWOOSH

A dart hit Jules in the neck below his right ear. Jules’ last tears fell to the ground, as he lost consciousness.

That same instant João spied the man who shot it lowering a primitive blowgun from his lips.

“Armand” João uttered before...

SWOOSH

Another dart knocked João out…


Mazarin’s Lab: Exam Room One
Jules Mazarin put his reminiscing aside to watch the green resin slowly make its way from the container through the tube to envelop Simon’s shaft and sack.

“UUUUuuu...” Simon mumbled under the muzzle.

“Enjoy your time with him, Inspector.” The doctor whispered.

“UUUUuuu…”

“Yes…Hugh Warwick – He has come to your rescue, Simon!” Mazarin murmured back and gently caressed Simon’s cheek. Satisfied that all proceeded according to his plans, Jules Mazarin left the examination room to attend to Hugh Warwick.

A Clanging and Captivating Cup

The kidnappers of the “All-American jock” Tommy Neville put him through a grueling routine of workouts, that matched and even exceeded the rigors of what he had heretofore experienced as a professional athlete in American football and baseball. Their drills included the obvious – weight-training and cardio, which kept the captive ballplayer in the superior shape of an elite athlete. But there was more to the usual regimen of keeping Tommy Neville primed for the playing field! Michael Palaiologos had directed Tommy’s guard-attendants to add new tests of endurance to his training – trials of strength of a very different nature. This training placed the hero of the Gridiron and Baseball Diamond – the young man who had played tight end and quarterback in football, and who now played third base in baseball – in every conceivable bondage position from the box-tie to the hog-tie, from Western to Japanese styles, and from the verily sensual to the truly sadistic. Tommy Neville himself never dreamed his athletic abilities would be pushed beyond what the finely hewn muscles of his body and the laser sharp precision of his mind could endure from the close contact sports he played at the collegiate and professional level. Now, his close contact sport comprised close constriction of his limbs, neck, and torso with all types of rope from natural to synthetic fibers knotted in an infinite number of ways he had ever conceived. As for Tommy’s head, the attractive archetype of Grade A, Prime American Beef was kept gagged or muffled in several ingenious ways all resulting in the same objective – reducing his speech to scarcely discernable murmuration!

At present Tommy Neville sat bound very securely to a solidly built ladderback chair with arms. His kidnappers used their renowned black rope to tie him up, as they had done so in every conceivable position since they had brought him to this den of devilish dilemma. At present, his handlers had tethered his arms to the armrests, spindles, and supports of the chair at his wrists, forearms, elbows, and upper arms. Rope crossed over Tommy’s well-developed pectoral muscles, around his grapefruit-sized biceps, and across his broad back to rein him to the back posts and slats of the chair. Rope around each of his muscular thighs secured them to each side of the chair. The hellish handlers wound those baleful bonds around his knees and ankles – lashing his legs to the chair’s upper and lower front legs. They then tightened the rope around his ankles and fastened the ends to the back rungs. In short order, Tommy’s craven captors made sure his bonds bonded him rigidly to the rigidly sturdy seat.

A gag savored with the Paste of Palaiologos usually sealed Tommy’s lips shut. Wrapped around his head, the gag also secured a sweat- and musk-scented cloth in his mouth. This bracer of brawn and beefcake put Tommy under the spell of his personal handler Martin Conyers and left Tommy in a carnally catatonic condition. Lust for the manly Martin stirred Tommy’s long-suppressed urges. He was powerless to prevent those feelings from bubbling to the surface and getting his slugger to boner up, whenever Conyers came close to him. For now, Conyers and Tommy’s other handlers had removed the testosterone-tinctured cloth and the putrid, pasted plaster from Tommy’s mouth and lips. He remained gagged – but only with a black, leather, panel gag whose leathery knob filled his mouth. And as the effects of the erotic narcotic dissipated, the brawny ballplayer regained most of his wits.

As his mind grew less muddled, Tommy Neville took in his predicament and surroundings. His captors had left him completely naked when they bound him to the chair. His nakedness heightened his sense of exposure and helplessness. His now flaccid cock and his balls were exposed between his lassoed thighs for all to see. And although he was a grown man who, as a college and now professional athlete, had grown used to being naked among other naked men in the locker-room and showers, his kidnapping had changed that. He had begun to feel the sting of shame – brought on by Tommy facing what he long knew were his demons.

Tommy had learned from his early teenage years to compartmentalize certain areas of his life. It served him well on the playing field, when he needed to concentrate on training, practice, and the game. There were other areas of his life, however, where compartmentalization really meant burying, not dealing with, and even denying certain facts. Tommy had only begun to scratch the surface of that well of feelings and emotions. He began to do so with the support and encouragement of Jim Anderson, his high school football coach, who had become more of a father to him than his own –the Reverend Thomas Neville – ever was. Tommy found a refuge in the home of Coach Anderson and his wife Adele. They and their children immediately accepted Tommy into their fold. Tommy spent more and more time with them throughout high school and on breaks from college than he did with his own family. Tommy’s parents loved him in their way, but it was on their terms. They wanted him to fit the mold of what they thought an All-American sports figure and son of an upright Christian minister should be – talented, tough, steadfast and – straight.

Tommy could fit most – but not all – those molds. He was talented on the playing field. And – boy, oh, boy – could he be tough. Steadfast – in training, playing ball, and studying hard – was his mantra. But as for the last – straight – well, that was another story. When Tommy began college, he began to realize feelings he had heretofore brushed off. Tommy discover his sexuality – and he realized he was anything but straight! He noticed the other guys his age, and something about them stirred him – the hardness of their muscles, the curves and tightness of their butts, and their junk. It was also their camaraderie, their laughter, and their way of seeing the world. But how could he ever live up to the expectations of his father – the Reverend Neville – if he ever learned the truth about his son? It seemed hopeless. So, Tommy escaped more and more into sports – sublimating his feelings in playing hard on the football and baseball fields. And Tommy delved into books – where he imagined other worlds beyond his own! Still, in striving to be the best young man in the world – working to be the best football and baseball player ever, exceling in school, and a gentleman to one and all – Tommy could not completely bury his feelings. Just when he thought he could be himself, an incident occurred that made Tommy retreat further into the closet and bury his feelings deeper and deeper. In his junior year, two guys on his football team were caught making out. They endured bullying and ostracization from their teammates. Tommy would not taunt them, but he shunned them. He felt so ashamed in doing so, but Tommy feared others would discover he was like those two fellows. So, he kept silent. Especially after he heard his father thunder – “Homosexuality is an abomination to the Lord!” Tommy was crestfallen. He dared not defy his father. So, Tommy turned to his old high school coach. He told him that he was gay. And Coach said everything would be okay. Coach Anderson told Tommy he loved him. He supported him, and he asked Tommy how he could help him. Tommy told him that he was not yet ready to come out of the closet. Coach Anderson responded by telling Tommy only he would know when he was ready, but Coach Anderson and his wife would always be there for him. After Coach Anderson retired, he made sure he and his wife attended every home game Tommy played in football and – now – baseball. They loved him unconditionally, as he did them in return.

Tommy felt such relief, knowing that he had the love and support of the Andersons, but he remained in the closet, wrestling with the decision of when the time would be right to step out of it. Finally – this year in fact – Tommy determined that no time would be the perfect time. So, he resolved to announce it at the end of spring training – right before the start of the baseball season. Then, he made that fateful decision. Tommy stopped to help a woman stranded along the side of the road. He could not simply drive past her without stopping to lend a hand. Helping others came instinctively to him. But Tommy had no way of knowing what that simple gesture would lead to…

No matter what nightmare I entered – I still would have stopped to help her… Tommy mused.

Tommy had now resolved that he could not change the past, but he would do everything in his power to shape his future. As the fog lifted slowly from his mind, Tommy realized his captors were bending him to their will. He knew he had to fight it, but they were breaking him down fast. Whenever his attendant – Martin Conyers. That’s the guy’s name – came near him, desire for the man pushed up against his fear of him. Tommy craved for the man’s touch, yet he still recoiled from the Conyers’ craven designs on him. Tommy knew he had to concentrate and compartmentalize those conflicts. So, he used what he learned as an athlete – focus on the task at hand and block all other thoughts out. And Tommy’s task at hand was to survive this hellhole and to find a way out of it!

Tommy – like the other hostages of these ghoulish gaolers – usually was soundly bound well inside his cell, so he could not see much beyond the entrance to his confines most of the time. But now Tommy had a clearer vision outside his cell. For some reason, the attendants had placed the chair to which he was bound just inside the access to his enclosure. Tommy could see the handlers and others hustling about the corridor, entering the cells of his fellow prisoners, and preparing for something – exactly what he had no idea – but – gauging from their activity – he guessed their kidnappers had prepared something special in store for him and his fellow captives.

From his new vantage point, Tommy could also see into the cell of the man opposite his own. The man was powerfully built – even more so than Tommy. Tommy gazed in awe at the man’s size and his well-hewn muscles. He was also unsettled at the sight of the crafty composition of the man’s confinement. Wearing only a jockstrap and protective cup that barely contained his manhood, this hefty Hercules had been inextricably tied up and crammed into an upright, narrow cage. The bars of the cage hardly held him in. His muscles and tendons squeezed against the iron barriers to his freedom. Like Tommy, he was gagged with a leather panel muzzle. Tommy assumed that, like him too, the man now chewed on a leathery knob attached to the other side of the gag. The man stared straight back at Tommy, and Tommy sensed that he was also free from the sensual stimulants which the handlers had heretofore used to baffle their brains and rouse their libidos.

As he looked closely at his confrere captive imprisoned in the cage across from him, Tommy Neville grew spellbound. Try as he might to focus on survival and escape, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off the caged man. It was as if hunters had seized and trapped a prized quarry, He was so beautiful – a demigod – Adonis himself. Tommy gaped in curiosity and awe at the black cords stretched across his muscular body and restricting his every movement. His wrists were bound behind him and secured to the bars of the cage. Rope corded around each bicep-bulging arm -- lashing them to his sides and pinioning them to the metal pins of his pen. Rope wound across his perfected pectoral muscles, down his lean and prominent abdominal muscles, and fastened to his stockade at his tapered waist. Tommy looked down at the man’s tree trunk thighs tied together with circles of cord around each thick muscle, then hitched together just below his jock-strapped package and above his knees and again to the bars. Still more black rope held his lower, legs fast and tight to the bars right below his knees and around his ankles. Tommy tried to focus on anything – but try as he might – he could not take his eyes off the man.

Tommy already had deduced his fellow captive’s identity. He was the famed Canadian hockey player, Eddie Marbot. Marbot was a legend. Tommy had seen him play. He skated with such speed, plowing through the defense to shoot the puck with such force into the net every time. Watching Eddie Marbot play was a master class in ice hockey. It thrilled Tommy to see him on the ice. Seeing him now filled Tommy with dread. Their kidnappers knew no bounds. But still – Tommy could not wrap his head around why he also found him so alluring in his present predicament. The purpose of their abductions should have been at the core of Tommy’s thoughts, but...

TAP TAP TAP

Tommy heard the sound – weak as it was – and he looked closely at Eddie Marbot. Eddie squirmed and struggled slightly as best he could within the tight borders of his iron crate.

TAP TAP TAP

Then – Tommy realized the source of the dim sound. He zeroed in on Eddie’s stick ‘n pucks barely contained in his jock-strapped cup. The cup hit the iron bars while Eddie twisted against his bonds. The iron bars clinked softly from the hard plastic of the protective, athletic cup each time Eddie Marbot struck a bar in his effort to find the key to free himself from the tight cords that held him in their cruel embrace. Eddie’s jockstrap and cup charmed Tommy. The broad band of Eddie’s jock set smoothly across and around his firm waist. And the band’s connection to its straps easily framed the bounteous beauty of his bulky buttocks. But it was the cup in the pouch of the jock that hooked Tommy. The protective tumbler protruded forward, barely holding in its bounty. Trim cockscombs of manscape bordered the pouched cup suggesting Eddie possessed a thick bush underneath it.

TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP

The tapping stirred something in Tommy. It was like the crescendo in a musical piece whose individual movements – struggles, squirms, twists, and turns – added to the entire brilliance of the sinewy-muscled Eddie in bondage inside the cramped confines of his cage. The pressure of the rope on Eddie’s body brought out the magnificence of his musculature. His sinews swelled under the intricately woven harness reining him in. And Eddie’s brute force strained and strove against the tethers holding him in their tight embrace. Tommy began to lose himself in the aesthetics of Eddie’s battle against his captivity. Eddie could barely move, but there was a rhythm to his grappling, writhing and slithering in his skirmish with the Gordian knots that locked the lassos around his body. And each tap of Eddie’s cup against the bars drew Tommy ever more to desire what that vessel enclosed within it.

“I see you’ve anticipated my return.”

Tommy looked over to see Martin Conyers leaning against the frame of his cell and leering down at the raging hard-on Tommy now sported.

“Our work is nearly complete, Tommy.” Conyers cooed, as he walked over to Tommy. “It’s wonderful to see you need no stimulant. Waiting for me to come is now enough to get you ready to cum.” He chuckled at his little pun. “But you will have to wait. You and the other guests of Mr. Palaiologos will shortly be brought together in a thrilling climax.” Conyers ran the fingers of his right hand up and down Tommy’s rigid staff. Tommy was close to coming – but not because of Martin Conyers. Conyers pulled his hand away.

“Tsk! Tsk! no climaxing for you now, Tommy. You and the others will soon be ready for the big finish.” Conyers stroked Tommy’s cheek above the strap to the Devonshire gag.

Tommy closed his eyes – fighting hard against the urge to lean into that caress. It felt so good, yet it revolted him too. Conyers’s touch tingled Tommy’s skin. He had been kept tied up and constrained for so long that Tommy wanted simple contact with another man. Despite his nakedness, it felt warm. But those fingers knotted the ropes that kept Tommy tied up. They manipulated him. The fingers could comfort, and they could be cruel. Conyers withdrew his touch. Tommy breathed in and let out his breath through his nostrils. When he opened them again, Conyers was walking away from the cell and soon disappeared down the corridor.

Tommy looked over once more at Eddie Marbot, and he saw that Eddie’s attendant had entered his cell. He was one of the top aides to Michael Palaiologos. He described my kidnapping – when I was first brought here – to that despicable man! Tommy knew that he – with another man – directed the other miscreants who manacled and muffled him and the other kidnapped men. Tommy watched as the man and Eddie interacted with each other. Eddie’s eyes flamed in anger, and his resistance to his bondage nearly shook that cage even though it was bolted to the floor of the cell. The man stood close to Eddie. Tommy saw him reach behind the cage. Was he placing his hand on Eddie’s bound wrists? He whispered something quickly to Eddie. Eddie stopped shaking. The flames in his eyes died down. A tear ran down his cheek and over the strap of the leather panel gag. Eddie grew calm, and Tommy saw him look at the man with warmth in his eyes. It was not the heat of anger – no – something else – Love?

And for the first time in this hellhole Tommy felt a glimmer of hope.


Exam Room Two of Mazarin’s Laboratory

Guard Attendants had positioned Hugh Warwick in the center of a room bathed in stark and clinically white brightness. It was the twin of the examination room where Simon lay strapped and under the influence of chimerical chemicals and sensuous stimulants. Rather than laying prone on a table, however, Hugh stood naked with his arms outstretched and bound in cruciform to crossbeams behind him. Firm, black leather restraints at his wrists and upper arms fastened him to the horizontal beam. Immovable leather shackles encircled his ankles and bolted them securely to the cement floor. Another beam ran vertical at the crossbeam’s center. Leather straps held Hugh’s head inflexibly to it at his neck and forehead, as well as at his waist and shins. Like his captured compatriot Simon, a Devonshire gag muzzled Hugh. And like Simon’s, the gag had a firm, silicone, penis-like protrusion filling the cavity of Hugh’s mouth, rendering him mute.

The Mountie from Manitoba was alone in the room and fully conscious when Dr. Mazarin entered. Hugh followed Mazarin with his eyes, while the doctor moved about the room, preparing various mixtures and syringes. As he went about his business, the pernicious physician paid not a spot of attention to the captive constable. Hugh observed the beguilingly good-looking doctor carefully check charts, making ready to examine him. When he had finished, Mazarin took out his mobile device and hit a pre-set code.

“Bring the Paste of Palaiologos and the restraints.”

Mazarin shut the device and turned his attention to Hugh. He smiled.

“And now, the fun begins.” The perfidious physician purred playfully to the pinioned policeman.

Hugh stared straight at him – careful not to betray the slightest emotion or movement.

“You’ll be happy to know, Inspector Warwick, that I left your hero moaning your name. Did you think that possible? After you betrayed him like you did – only such a short time ago?”

Hugh refused to take the bait. He looked intently at Dr. Mazarin, and although he could not utter a word behind the gag, Hugh kept his own counsel.

This cursed caitiff is toying with me. Don’t fall for it!!

“Oh, it’s true, Inspector Warwick. Simon DuWright moaned “Hugh” behind the twin of the gag you wear now. He kept muttering your name over – and over – and over again.”

Don’t fall for it for a minute. He’s playing me for a fool!

“’Hugh’ – Inspector – You, he cried out for.” Mazarin pointed to Hugh to emphasize his purpose.
“Hugh – Hugh – Hugh! He cried out for you, Inspector” He taunted Hugh.

Dr. Mazarin came close as possible to the manacled Mountie and whispered in his ear.

“He wants only you – He knows you did not betray him. You saved him, Inspector Warwick! And soon you’ll be moaning for him to come to you!”

Mazarin cupped Hugh’s thunder-bundle and began to fondle the Warwick jewels.

“These will soon be supplying the key ingredients for the Order’s recipe, but you and your fellow Mountie will discover that – all in good time! Although the two of you may have seen enough of our laboratories to have already surmised what we intend to do with the milky loads from your huevos.” Mazarin mused mischievously and squeezed Hugh’s balls subtly.

Saints Preserve Us from this godforsaken riffraff!!!

Hugh grimaced from the pressure on his balls. Bound as he was, he could not shake free from the miscreant medicine man’s manipulation of his manhood. So, Hugh dug down deep within himself to rediscover the doctrine of the RCMP – Uphold the Right! He could not undo his betrayal of that creed with Simon, but Hugh became determined to live by it once more.

So Help Me God, if I get out of this – I vow to make things right with Simon!

Several attendants came into the room with carts. One cart was laden with all types of restraints and gags. The other bore what looked like a cryogenic container for liquid nitrogen or some other precious substance. After placing the carts near Dr. Mazarin, two attendants proceeded to scrub up and then don latex gloves and surgical masks, as if they were about to perform a delicate operation. While they did this, Dr. Mazarin sorted through the restraints, black rope, and assorted gags on the one cart. He picked up black, leather, shoulder-to-wrist sleeve restraints and a leather front-buckle gag. The latter was like the Devonshire gag now muffling Hugh. It had a silicone pecker insert too, but the front buckle could be padlocked – thus driving a message home to the wearer that his liberty of speech was not his to possess. Dr. Mazarin thought it would do nicely for Hugh who had betrayed his fellow Mountie to the Order. The Order now owned him! He brought the restraints and gag over to Hugh, so that he could explain their significance.

“Once the attendants have applied the Paste of Palaiologos to you from your shoulders to your ankles, we will wrap your arms in these sleeves, before binding them behind your back. We will next spin you into a web with the black rope of our Order. By then, the paste will have leached onto you. It will arouse you – kindling such fire in your loins that you will burn with a desire ten times more powerful than you’ve ever felt. Just when you believe the fire will engulf you, other toxins in the paste will seep into the pores of your skin. Their venom produces a stinging sensation – a burning itch – if you will. You’ll be caught in a vice-like grip between passion and pain. And there will be nothing you can do to free yourself from it! The sleeves and the webbed bindings will render you unable to scratch those itches. The paired prickling will stimulate, tickle, and torment you until you are driven mad.”

Dr. Mazarin stood before Hugh with the leather panel gag under one arm. He looked deadly serious as he first unstrapped the leather restraints at Hugh’s forehead and neck, which allowed the doctor to then unbuckle the Devonshire gag and remove it from Hugh.

Hugh returned Mazarin’s stare with an even frostier glower. It was a relief for him to stretch his neck. He said nothing as he did so, but he also worked up some saliva in his mouth, which was parched from chomping down on the silicone protrusion of the Devonshire gag.

“Ptui…Puh!!!”

Hugh spit twice in Mazarin’s face.

“You Bastard!” He said hoarsely.

Mazarin remained silent, as he wiped the gobs of spit from his face with the back of his right hand.

“SMACK!!”

The sound of the slap reverberated in the room.

Mazarin had backhanded Hugh with the same hand.

“I will extract a very heavy price for your insolence, Inspector.”

“Fuc…”

Mazarin cut Hugh off from further expression by pushing the silicone protrusion of the new gag into his mouth. He tightened the straps to buckle the gag shut and then snapped a small but heavy metal lock to bolt the buckle in front.

Hugh grunted his fury and began to fight against the belts binding him to the crossbeams and affixing him to the floor. It was a futile effort.

Mazarin stood back and watched until Hugh had spent his rage. After a while, Hugh slumped back against the beams in defeat.

Mazarin then delivered his coup de grâce.

“If I have my way, Inspector – you will never see your brother Danny again!”

“NNNNNNOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Hugh screamed behind the padlocked, leather panel gag and began to cry.

Dr. Mazarin turned to the attendants who stood ready to apply the Paste of Palaiologos to Hugh.

“PASTE HIM!” He commanded and left the examination room to carry out his revenge.

Simon’s Wet Dream

“You can count on me, Simon.” – I’ll have to end this – I have no other choice – I cannot let this mountebank Penrith harm Danny, the Inspector, or any other man. Hugh and I will have to surrender – Our only hope now is Felix Bergeron. He’ll know where to find us – You were supposed to have my back, Hugh…


So many emotions and thoughts raced through Simon’s mind, as he lay naked and chained atop the cold examination table in the laboratory. His captors had addled his brain with toxins, and that venom raised so many specters – anger – disappointment – fear even. Simon was angry at himself for not anticipating events and formulating reactions to them ahead of time. His training as an elite inspector in the RCMP charged with bringing down the Order of the Black Rope prepared him to face scenarios for which contingencies needed to be in place. He knew Hugh was still a tenderfoot in this battle against this odious Order. And Hugh had far too much invested in the case, since one of the kidnapped men was his kid brother. Simon should have considered Hugh’s emotional state. Hugh – why did I not see that this wretched Order still had such hold on him. The poor wretch! Hugh is entirely devoted to Danny. He’d do anything to save Danny – even betray everything he stands for! Simon could not blame Hugh. His only faults were his desire to save his brother and underestimating the wiliness of this crafty company of abductors! No – Simon laid blame entirely on himself for falling into this trap.

Simon glanced over at the aloof and handsome Dr. Mazarin, who treated him as if he were a lab rat. The doctor methodically went about preparing Simon for some lewd experiment – checking his vitals – pulse, temperature, breathing – but then closely examining his genitalia and using rubbing alcohol swabs to sterilize his cock and balls. Out of it though he was, Simon was conscious enough to realize resistance was futile now – all he could do is let this man work his dark arts over him until an opportunity arose to resist. His eyes followed Mazarin as he attached clear, form-fitting tubes over his junk and fixed them to cold, metal receptacles. Simon’s eyes widened in – trepidation – No! – fear – No! – amazement and clarity, as the menacing man of science turned a switch and stood back to observe a green resin emerge from one receptacle and snake its way through the clear conduit to Simon’s c and b.

Simon stared in bewilderment as the green goo grew closer to the tip of his cock. Just as it reached that gloriously cut, purple-helmeted specimen of manhood, the resin paused – as if it were delighting in a delectable it was about to devour. Simon’s eyes widened, and his stomach knotted as he anticipated what was to come. He was now completely lucid, as the slime parted to create an opening over his cockhead before descending over it and slowly wind its way down his shaft to his bro globes. The perfidious pitch tingled and felt cool at first. When the full-bodied balm completely wrapped itself around Simon’s package, its grip tightened and Simon clenched his brawny buttocks, bucked upward as much as the buckles binding his body would allow, and boned up bigtime!

Euphoria swept over Simon, and he rode that wave. It floated him to calm waters. The harsh lights of the examination room became a warm sun, and the stark white walls turned a comforting azure. Simon soon forgot where he was, as he drifted off where he lay adrift on a boat on a tranquil, tropical sea. Simon was naked and lashed to a mast on that boat, but his bonds embraced rather than bound him. He looked up and saw Hugh naked and lashed to a mast opposite him. He appeared as content as Simon was. They could not speak to each other, since both men had large gags muffling them. Hugh looked up and locked eyes with Simon. Each began to squirm in their bonds – not to escape but to sway to an erotic rhythm in the hold of the fetters. Simon saw that Hugh was hard, and he became aware of his own hardness. Simon looked away in embarrassment, but he could not keep his eyes away – once more he looked over to watch Hugh cavort. Simon could not help himself – he enjoyed what he saw. Hugh shimmied and shook in the tight hold of the ropes holding him fast to the mast – his pelvis grinding lewdly towards Simon. Simon soon found himself gyrating in time with Hugh. Before long, Hugh’s eyes rolled upwards, and he began to shoot his load. With the last of his manjuice dripping from his cock, Hugh slumped into unconsciousness against the mast.

The green balm bent Simon’s attention back to his cock and balls as the goop began to pulsate harder and tighten its grip over them. Suddenly, Simon felt sharp pricks of pain. It was as if thousands upon thousands of bristles ran up and down his shaft and across his man-nuts, pinching and stinging him. The skies grew dark, and the sea became choppy. The boat started to rock then toss upwards and downwards as the sea turned wilder. The spray of the sea splashed Simon like burning lashes. Flashes of lightning brightened Simon’s surroundings before the roar of thunder echoed in the skies. In those moments of light Simon saw an island, and he heard muffled cries for help from there over the claps of thunder. The stormy sea pitched the boat closer to the island, and Simon could make out figures on its shoreline. Simon realized those were men bound to poles. Their muffled cries were like stifled screams of Sirens’ calls of sorts – except those cries were calls to him for deliverance and not to dash him to his doom!

The cries had roused Hugh from his slumber, and he now struggled to free himself. Simon witnessed his muscles straining and bulging as he fought against the bands. With an almost inhuman strength, Hugh tore through the bindings and pulled the gag from his mouth. Hugh started to work his way across the storm swept deck of the boat to free Simon, but he stopped suddenly when one muffled cry from ashore bellowed to him over the others. He looked to Simon, who pleaded as best he could under his gag for Hugh to free him. But that one muffled cry regained Hugh’s attention.

“DANNY!!!” Hugh shouted out and leapt overboard to make it to the island.

“UUUUUUUU!!!” Simon pleaded plaintively after him.

Simon sunk his head down against his chest and cried in despair. He soon lost consciousness.

When Simon awoke, the storm had passed, but fog had enveloped the boat and everything around it. All was very still as the fog grew thicker. Simon heard the muffled cries from the men faintly now, so the boat must have drifted further out to sea. He was still bound very securely to the mast and tightly gagged, and Simon did not fight against the bonds. His cock was still erect. The burning pricks had ceased, but the pressure on his manhood was still very strong. He heard a movement from the bow of the boat and a moment or two later, a familiar figure stepped out of the fog and into Simon’s view.

“UUUuuu…” Simon moaned in relief.

“I’ll always be by your side – Ruv Roo, Inspector.” Johnny Trudeau said as he caressed Simon’s face and spoke the silly words that still expressed the truth. He was dressed in his bobsled kit which accented every hard muscle and curve of his body. Simon leaned into Johnny’s hand. It radiated warmth and the depth of Johnny’s love for him. Simon needed to reciprocate that love. He strained to break free from the restraints holding him tight to the mast, but their grip on him was too strong. He cried in frustration. Johnny wrapped his arms around Simon and enveloped him in an embrace. Simon stopped struggling and nestled his head in the crook of Johnny’s neck – and Simon realized there was no other man he loved more than the man holding him now. Johnny stroked Simon’s hair and kept murmuring those silly words,

“Ruv Roo, Inspector… Ruv Roo, Inspector.”

“UUHHHVVV UUUU, KKHHUUUBBEEE BBHHAAHHRR” Love you, Cubby Bear

Simon was frustrated that he couldn’t tell Johnny he loved him too. He tried to nudge the gag off by rubbing it in the crook of Johnny’s neck, but it wouldn’t budge. The movement against his neck, however, nudged Johnny to another response. He hugged Simon closer and started grinding into him. Simon felt Johnny’s hardness under the skintight lycra of his kit. As best he could while bitterly bound to the mast, Simon ground his own rock-hard cock into Johnny in response. Once more, ecstasy inundated Simon. His cock was on fire for Johnny, and he tried with all his might to break free from the bonds that held him so fast to the mast. But they were far too strong, so he plunged his prick as best he could into his lover’s loins.

Simon lost himself in his love of Johnny. Memories flooded back to him of the first time he and Johnny made love to each other. The ordeal of Johnny’s kidnapping at the hands of those sinister Slobobians, Simon’s own capture in his attempt to rescue him, and their near escape from certain death on the razor-sharp teeth of the sawmill’s blade had bound the two men inextricably to each other. Afterwards, Simon and Johnny found that other bonds drew them closer – shared interests, worldviews, and the simple fact that they found each other so fracking hot!! That first night of lovemaking was tender, caring, and – yes – bonding! The first time he entered Johnny, Simon knew that this brawny man with a goofy smile and mop of curly, ginger hair atop his head was a warm and gentle soul. And when Johnny entered him, all Simon wanted was to give all of himself to Johnny and love him forever more.

Now, he showed that love with every thrust, prod, rub, and gyration of his pelvis. Johnny returned it with every twist and turn of his own body, as he enveloped Simon. Their erect cocks stroked each other in a duel of desire. Even though Johnny’s Johnson remained sheathed under his skin-tight uniform, Simon could see its dimensions – the near-perfect knob, the splendid shaft, and his beautiful balls. Simon imagined them cushioned within his neatly trimmed but full ginger man-cabbage patch – and those thoughts roused Simon to the heights of ecstasy. He would not be able to hold out much longer. Johnny’s quickened breaths and the accelerated thrusts of his pelvis signaled to Simon that he too was about to cum.

The sun’s rays burst through the clouds and soaked the boat in warm light. Simon and Johnny gazed at each other, and Simon saw everything so clearly. He loved Johnny. And Johnny loved him. Simon felt the buildup in his nuts. They cracked open and spewed forth the sweet nectar of his seed. At that moment, Simon felt the gush of Johnny’s load against him, its surge turning the snug material of his outfit soggy. Johnny held Simon tight. Their semen between them like a glue – but a seal stronger than any tether. Johnny – Simon knew – was the only man Simon desired.

The green goo loosened its grip on Simon’s cock, and he suddenly felt very cold. It grew dark and the sea became choppy once again. Suddenly, Simon spied a giant, black, octopus-like creature emerge from the stormy swells. Its long, slimy tentacles whipped over the port side of the boat, and it heaved itself up onto the deck. Johnny still embraced Simon and seemed in the midst of postcoital bliss – oblivious to the looming danger. Simon tried to warn him as best he could, but his words remained garbled gurgles behind the gag. The creature’s tentacles lashed forward and wrapped around Johnny’s arms, legs, and torso. They pulled him from Simon. Johnny screamed out to him,

“I love you…”

Before a tentacle slashed across his face – gagging him. The creature then held Johnny aloft and spewed forth a black fluid onto him. Within moments, it swathed Johnny into a tight cocoon from head to toe. All Simon could do was watch helplessly, as the sea creature lashed his encased lover onto its back and move to the bow of the boat. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the creature returned to the sea – taking its cocooned captive with it.

Simon awoke with a start, and the dream began to fade from his recall. He was in the examination room of the laboratory, stilled strapped down to the cold, metal table. The Devonshire gag remained firmly in place. As his eyes adjusted to the starkly bright lights, Simon watched two attendants hover over him. They worked silently and intently on Simon – yet paying him no attention. One detached the metal containers, carefully handling them both, while his colleague removed the tight, clear tubing from Simon’s now flaccid cock. There was no residue left from the gelatinous, green gunge that had so recent a stranglehold on him. Simon observed the attendant with the containers take one and place it back in a freezer. The other he placed within another metal receptacle. He sealed it shut and adjusted some valves atop. The attendant then left the room with the container. The man’s associate took antiseptic wipes and cleansed Simon’s genitals. When he was done, he, too, left the room.

Simon was too spent to test the bonds. Besides – he knew they were too strong, and he needed to build up his energy. So, Simon retreated to his thoughts. He began to review the plan he deduced Palaiologos and his minions were up to. The Order of the Black Rope kidnapped younger men who were topflight athletes from a variety of sports. As such, the men had abilities of a higher caliber than your average man. For one, they were well-disciplined. And because of this, Simon mused, they would be able to withstand the rigors of being bound and gagged for long periods of time. Simon had to admit, too, that each man was very good-looking. Tonight, at the reception, Simon saw a young man who was identical to the Norwegian Olympic speedskater who disappeared decades ago. It could have been his son, but Simon suspected something far more sinister. His suspicions were confirmed when he and Hugh stumbled on the man trapped in that heinous, human test-tube. He was Arvid Christian Olsen – the speedskater himself! But he should have been a man in middle-age by now. Instead, he still looked to be 25!!! The odious Order had somehow unlocked the secrets of eternal youth! And this infernal federation of fetterers intended to use the kidnapped men as specimens in a perverse experiment – some combination of cryonics and human cloning, Simon thought. They kept men youthful and alive in a kind of suspended animation – like Olsen. To what purpose, though…? Simon did not know, but he knew it must be for some degenerate design. And he had to stop them! Simon was sure of that. He needed to free himself and rescue the others – including Hugh Warwick who also needed rescuing from himself! Their mission needed to be accomplished. Simon began to steel himself for the task. In the present circumstances, there was little else he could do. So, Simon thought, and as he thought – bits and pieces of his dreams came back. Dark mist – bright sunshine – figures fading in and out – a storm at sea – a boat – men tied to stakes on the shore of an island – him bound to a mast – all these images flashed through his mind.

One image in Simon’s mind over the others grew in ever sharper relief.

And the knots tightened in Simon’s stomach, as he realized what it meant…

They have Johnny!!

[gag1195]

Well worth the wait! What a way to cap off the year- the slow emotional, mental, and arousing torture of our hapless, hunky Mounties! The layers to all these characters and plot is nothing short of magnificent! And even still, in this most dire situation for our heroes and protagonists, we are getting duplicity, treasonous plans, so many things to look forward to in this tale! I keep asking myself, "how is all this going to end? Who will emerge victorious? Will certain couples get their happy ending, and what will that happy ending look like?" I won't pretend to know the answers, but I'm eagerly awaiting finding them out in future chapters!

[Guardianbound]

Brilliant as always. The physical and mental torture and pure agony of these men is written so eloquently. Each character has a back story that drives them which adds so many layers of complexity to this tale.

Can't wait for the continuation whenever it comes. It still feels like we're scratching the surface of the Order's plans and our heroes are already captured! Eagerly awaiting to see how this resolves itself.

Some of these couples have been separated for so long that their reunion, whenever it comes, will be something to watch.

[DeeperThanRed]

What a great sight to wake up to first thing in the new year!

As grueling as their ordeal is, I can't help but love the bondage of Simon and Tommy's bondage. It's so elaborate and inspiring, all done better by their inner conflicts about how they can't help but feel excited about it - while also worrying about their loved ones. I wonder how things will turn out if Jimmy and Hugh meet under the hand of their captors.

Mazarin's flashback was a welcome insight into the past of the Brotherhood. I'm quite curious about where the loyalties of the bad guys will lead the story - as they all seem to have their own agendas.

Great update!

[mrjones2009]

[mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention]

Wow! Another great addition to this tale.

So well written and thought out. The characters are brilliant as well, both the good guys and the bad guys. Both have depth and levels.

Look forward to the next installment!

[Donbrown]

Congratulations [mention]KidnappedCowboy[/mention] for your newest chapter! It was a bit lengthy, but as always worth the wait!
To be honest, I've never thought about Mazarin's backstory. Turns out you have something special planned for him as well, and judging by the cliffhanger in the middle of the chapter, he is about to experience the Brotherhood's bonds along with his equally handsome German(ish?) companion. I have a soft spot for blonde muscular men getting bound and gagged, and this newest member of your Pantheon of Hotties caught my attention immediately .
Eddie is one of my favourite characters in this story. I just LOVE how romantic and soft he can be, in contrast with Peter, who in some cases can be quite a serious dom. Eitherway, I'm glad that Peter has finally found a man to love and protect, despite that fact that his lover is still trapped by the brotherhood's ropes. The clingling of the cup on the cage bars was a hot idea btw and I hope that Eddie's captivity will bring out his kinkier side. Even a small glimpse of the two lovebirds is enough to make my heart melt .
Lastly, our hunky protagonist seems to be in a rather tight spot . I'm always a sucker (no pun intended ) for Devonshirre gags. They do complement a man's handsome face! I really liked your description of his wet dream. Did you drew inspiration from Ulysses and the sirens? And Johnny in his tight uniform grinding on Simon's erect mast was enough to make me erupt

[privateandrews]

Always worth the wait, needs to be a graphic novel, the depth of character development and story telling is as always spot on.

[KidnappedCowboy]

Wow!

I am a very lucky man to have so many leave comments on my latest update!

Thank you!

[mention]gag1195[/mention], my friend, thank you for noting the "duplicitous, treasonous plans" of the various characters. Wait until you see how they pan out!

[mention]Guardianbound[/mention],I hope the reunion of the couples will be captivating for all!

[mention]DeeperThanRed[/mention], more of Mazarin's back story to come.

[mention]mrjones2009[/mention], yes, there are plenty of good guys and bad guys and some in between, too!

[mention]Donbrown[/mention], my friend, there will be more to come with the young, German anthropologist.

[mention]privateandrews[/mention], I truly hope this was well worth your wait. I hope not to keep you waiting as long for the ending!

Thank you all for leaving comments! And thanks to all for reading it!

[Muscle-Flex]

Wow! This was a heck of a chapter and well worth the wait. The back story (so far) of Mazarin and Richelieu was perfect, from their casual credentialing at the Sorbonne, and romantic life, of course, in the Latin Quarter, to the mysteries of the Amazon. The Seqüestradores and the Manipuladores – hahaha! Names worthy of a tale by Edgar Burroughs, had he set his adventures in South America. There is something about the jungle setting that adds depth to the broader story of the Brotherhood and those who get involved with it. There is definitely a ying/yang relationship between villains and heroes and having both sides rounded out really adds to the fun of their interactions. The perilously enticing predicaments of the heroes finds its mirror in the pleasure the villains take in their work.

Loved the introduction of Pflüger and can’t wait to see what happens to him – his bounden duty indeed! The chase through the jungle added adrenaline to the tale, and it’s conclusion with João and Jules dangling above the forest floor was exactly what I was hoping for – straight out of a classic tale of manly adventure!

On to Tommy Neville! The detailed description of he and Eddie’s tetherings and immobilization was great and hot! I had gotten very focused on the main characters. This was a great reminder of the larger game at play. It was also, frankly, very intriguing (and stimulating) to see the interweaving of physical and psychological attraction that Tommy and Eddie were experiencing. The captive men are in a more complex situation than simply being held against their will. They are getting turned on by what is happening to them! What part of that is a result of Palaiologos’s cunning manipulations and what part the release of what was buried for these men? Very nicely done here! Oh, and the tap, tap, tapping of the athletic cup – heh heh. I really like how you take a classic peril scene and undercut it with erotic humor. I’d say it’s a key element of the erotic adventure genre when done well.

And as for Hugh – the padlocked gag and the scene of the muscular Manitoban Mountie about to get pasted was hot! As was Simon watching the green goo travel slowly down the tube! It’s the little details that really add to your scenes. And Simon’s dream was a deft move, taking us to his realization of part of what is going on, while reintegrating Johnny to the story line.

Definitely one of your best chapters. You’ve definitely got your readers on edge as the climax approaches!